'Meris, please,' he croaked. 'Lyetha… tell her I… I am sorry. I killed Tarm and little Rhyn… all those years ago. I alone! Tell her-I'm sorry.'
Meris laughed at him.
'Lies to the last, eh, Father?' he asked. 'I suppose it's close enough to true-true enough to keep me Quaervarr's hero.' He smiled.
Greyt choked. Then he tried to speak again. 'Talthaliel… you lied to me… you said you would fight… and defeat… my son… you lied…' With one shaking hand, he clutched the amber amulet that hung around his throat.
Then a boot fell upon his hand and Meris held him down.
The dusky youth grinned hideously. It was time for the final act of revenge.
'No, no he didn't, Father,' he laughed. 'He kept his promise. He has fought and defeated your son.' Then he pushed with his foot, pulling the sword out, and the Lord Singer fell over.
Awash in a sea of pain, Greyt's face was wracked with both agony and confusion. Then, understanding came upon him, and his eyes softened.
'Lyetha… why didn't… didn't you tell me?' He gasped one last time. 'Beloved… forgive me… for… what I did not see…'
As the room faded to black, he imagined that he saw a laughing face before his eyes. It was a young Rhyn- his Rhyn-and his dazzling blue eyes, so like those of his beautiful Lyetha, gleamed in the lamplight.
He heard Rhyn running toward him, but from so far away. He would never arrive in time, Greyt knew. Rhyn and Lyetha had never been his, and he had hurt them so much, he was almost glad they would never be his now.
'We will meet again,' he whispered, almost fondly. 'In a world free… of hate and pain.'
For the first and last time in his life, Greyt felt regret.
Then he felt nothing at all.
Talthaliel's mouth curled up at the edges. 'Ah,' was all he said. Then he vanished.
As he went, the shimmering sphere around Walker disappeared. Tarm, his father, was at his side, silent as always, urging him to stand.
And stand Walker did.
Walker ran for Greyt's manor. Lightning crashed overhead, threatening fierce rain as before, but nothing came down.
In the courtyard, the cherry trees-imported from far south-were just beginning to blossom, showing white and pink all around him. The cobblestone path running from the gate to the front door seemed impossibly long and Walker ran for all he was worth, his cape billowing behind him black against a sea of beauty.
Once through the front portal he slowed, watching every shadow for hidden attackers. He stalked through halls he did not know but remembered, somehow, as though he had walked them before-a memory washed away with his own blood that night fifteen years ago.
After his meeting with Lyetha, he found his memories creeping back, as though his shattered mind had pulled itself back together. Now he regretted turning her away, refusing to hear what she might tell him. His anger had blinded him, and now he wondered.
There were, after all, the mysterious memories of Greyt's manor that crept into his mind.
There was something eerily familiar about this building he had avoided studiously for the last fifteen years, lest his thirst for revenge get the better of him. That wall hanging there, that end table… The layout of the corridors, the design of the carpet… Walker could have sworn he could say where each and every door led, as though…
Even as he ran through the halls of his greatest enemy, Walker felt the cruel sensation of coming home.
'Empty as the darkness,' he said under his breath, washing his mind of the memories. With the words, Walker pushed the painful, bittersweet sensation out of his mind, much as one would ignore a moment of deja vu. It was difficult, but he did it.
Then he heard cruel laughter from ahead and knew his destination: Greyt's study.
After running a hand through his black curls, Meris took his time wiping the blade with a kerchief from his pocket. Then he slid the shatterspike back into its scabbard and dropped the bloody cloth on his father's corpse. Absently picking at the blood spatters on his white leather armor, he paused to consider the fallen man. Greyt's face knew an almost peaceful expression, but there was sadness there also-a duality of emotion.
By contrast, Meris felt nothing.
That only made him smile.
His smile faded as the lithe Talthaliel stepped out of the air next to Greyt's body. Meris dropped his hands to his weapons.
The black-robed diviner ignored him entirely. Talthaliel knelt over the Lord Singer's body.
'I am to assume that Walker has been dealt with, then?' snapped Meris. 'Did you kill the wretch? Where is Bilgren?'
'Yes, no, and dead,' Talthaliel replied absently.
'What? Make sense, elf!' shouted Meris. 'You were my father's slave, and he's dead, so you are mine now! Speak!'
Talthaliel looked at him with an expression Meris might have called amusement. He pulled an amber amulet from Greyt's dead hand and admired it.
'I serve no man,' said the seer, 'unless he holds this.'
Meris looked at the amber without comprehension. Then he thought he saw a tiny gleam. 'And what is that, your life-force? Your soul, or whatever you rat-faced elves have instead?'
'My daughter,' said Talthaliel. He stood, and Meris watched as the amulet vanished into his robes. 'But to answer your question, the Spirit of Vengeance has been defeated, once, but I have not slain him. He comes for you even now, and I do not have to see the future to know the violence he will bring.'
'You fish-skinned, tree-kissing, elf bastard,' growled Meris. 'You get back there and-'
Talthaliel vanished as though he had never been.
Meris's frown deepened. Walker? Coming here?
Then it seemed obvious. The fool was trying to rescue Arya. Meris could ambush Walker and rid himself of the ghost at last-the shatterspike should do the trick.
First things first, though.
'Guard!' he called.
The door opened and one of the Greyt family rangers looked in. From his face, he did not find the carnage surprising,
'Too many liabilities,' Meris said. 'See that that wench Venkyr and the others have accidents in their cells. Immediately. When they are dead, post six men there. I want anyone who comes looking for them killed just as quickly, no matter who it is.' The man nodded, then Meris continued. 'And gather all the other rangers in the courtyard. I am coming soon.'
'As you command, Lord Greyt-Wayfarer,' the scout said. Then he disappeared out the door. Out in the hallway, Meris could hear voices as the two guards left.
'Lord Greyt-Wayfarer,' murmured the scout. He enjoyed the sound of that.
After a moment, Meris bent over Greyt's body and seized the left hand. The gold wolf's head ring-the Greyt family crest-sparkled from the fourth finger. Meris wrenched it free, let Greyt's arm fall with a satisfying thump, and slid it on. It was too big.
'Once, I would have given anything to have your name,' said Meris. He cradled his father's head in his hands. 'I would have done anything to be worthy-anything to make you love me.'
Then he dropped the head and rose, drawing away from the corpse. When he had gained his feet again, he
