'So if Rhendish could track me down,he can also find Fox!'
'You gave Fox the amulet?' she saidsharply. 'When?'
'Not long ago. A few days, perhaps.The amulets are passed down when the child comes of age or acquiresmagic. The compulsion to keep the amulet is also passed down. Foxwon't be able to cast it away.'
This was dire news, but it explainedmany things. Rhendish's need for an herbalist was small reason tokeep the green witch close at hand. Knowing the amulet wouldeventually pass to Fox, however, gave Rhendish a sure means offinding the young thief. And if Rhendish believed that Fox came ofEldreath's bloodline, he would consider him a potentialthreat.
Honor rose and pulled Keefin to herfeet. 'Are there any stone floors in your cottage?
'No, but the stone wall surroundingthe hearth spans the kitchen.'
'Show me.'
The green witch led the way into aroom that was clearly intended to be a kitchen. No fire burned inthe open hearth and no cooking pot sat amid the lifeless coals, butbundles of herbs hung from lines strung across room and a vastcollection of pots and vials claimed every inch of table space. Nowonder Keefin was little more than braids and bone.
Honor ran her hands lightly over thestone wall, seeking a seam or gap. Finally she found a hairlinecrack separating one of the stones from the mortar surroundingit.
'I need a knife.'
Keefin handed her a small, thinblade. The elf slipped it into the gap and traced the opening. Shefelt the slight give of a metal clasp and threw her weight againstthe stone. A section of wall swung inward on silenthinges.
Honor climbed through and pausedbefore shutting the door behind her. 'It's best that you pretendnothing has changed. Keep to the house, speak as little as you canand as foolishly as possible. And if Rhendish comes-'
'He won't realize the binding hasbeen undone,' Keefin said confidently. 'I could tell even whenRhendish was a boy that his talent for magic was small. He'll neverbe the man his father was, all gods be praised.'
The elf had a very bad feeling aboutwhat was coming next. 'His father was a sorcerer?'
Keefin nodded. 'Rhendish had anamulet, too.'
Chapter 6: Round up the Reds
The lamp on Rhendish's work roomtable guttered. He reached for the cruet of oil and noted withsurprise that the light was no longer needed. Bright daylightspilled through the windows. He had worked through the night andthe morning as well, with nothing to show for his efforts but adull ache behind his eyes.
He rolled his shoulders to work someof the kinks from his muscles and returned his attention to thetangle of gears he'd removed from Honor's arm.
Like all of his clockwork creations,Honor's improvements contained bits of crystal hidden in a metalframework more delicate than elfin filigree. Crystal provided themeans of imposing his will upon the machines he created, and thecomplexity of the metal setting veiled its presence andpurpose.
This blending of metal and magic hadbeen a marvelous device, quite possibly his best creation. Had itnot been damaged during the attack on Muldonny's fortress, Honorwould never have bested him in a contest of wills.
The elfin skeleton shimmered in thebreeze, and the tinkle of crystal struck Rhendish's ears likemocking laughter.
He snatched up a small hammer andwhirled toward the laughing bones.
In the bright light, the pale pinkcrystal glowed like sunrise clouds. Rhendish lowered his weapon,defeated by the skeleton's strange beauty. Fascinating, how thebone fragments he'd removed from Honor's shattered arm had growninto this shining thing.
He should destroy it. He knew that.But he also knew that he could never bring himself to do it. He wasmeant to build, not destroy.
Even so, when Volgo had firstbrought Honor to Rhendish, burning with fever from a wound thatcould never heal, the adept's impulse had been to grant her aquick, merciful death. But the opportunity to explore elfinphysiology had been too tempting to ignore. Once he discovered thather bones were crystal, how could he
At some point, Rhendish had gottencaught up in the experiment and lost sight of the elf. He was notsure when he'd stopped being a healer and become her jailor. He wasnot sure that even mattered. What mattered was controlling theexperiment.
Control was important. Control overhis creations, his city, his island, the council that ruled Sevrin.Control over magic, so that no other Eldreath could rise. Controlover himself, so that the taint of sorcery in his blood did notdestroy everything he'd worked so hard to build.
Booted footsteps beat a swiftcrescendo in the hall beyond the work room. Volgo strode into theroom without knocking. Rhendish held up one finger to indicate thathis captain should wait in silence.
The man spoke anyway. 'The elfslipped away last night, just as I said she would.'
Rhendish's lips thinned inannoyance. 'We will discuss the matter when I've finished the taskat hand.'
He exchanged one delicate tool foranother, assuming that Volgo would leave and return when summoned.But the fighter paced the room, pausing to twitch at the curtain onone of the alcoves.
'I did not offer you a seat. Howvery rude of me,' the adept said in a dry, even tone.
Volgo dropped into a chair. He madeno sound, but tension rolled off him in waves. Rhendish grit histeeth and fortified the walls of concentration. He had not survivedyears in Eldreath's dungeon 'school' to see his trained willdefeated by an impatient sword-swinger.
Several moments of charged silencepassed before Rhendish gave up the effort. He leaned back in hischair and regarded the captain. To his surprise, Volgo wasclean-shaven. Unlike most men of Sevrin, Volgo favored a full beardand had for as long as Rhendish had known him. His hair, which he'dworn long and tied back, had been clipped as short as a cat'sfur.
Rhendish was more interested in thechange in Volgo's demeanor. One booted foot stretched out to oneside. Impatient fingers drummed against his knee, and his otherhand absently stroked the aurak-tusk hilt of his sword.
It occurred to Rhendish that Volgo'sattitude had taken a southbound road around the time he'd arrangedfor a servant to 'steal' the elfin dagger and sell it to Muldonny.Apparently the 'theft' had diminished Rhendish in his captain'seyes, but it had been a necessary fiction and he saw no reason totell anyone, not even his most trusted servant, that he hadcontrived the death of a fellow adept.
'She should have had a guard,' Volgosaid.
'Yes, you made that opinion known.'Rhendish folded his hands on the table and leaned over them.'Perhaps you recall the young dwarf who was a guest for a brieftime.'
'I do.'
'And you might also recall that nodwarf was sighted during the attack on Muldonny's fortress. Whatwould you deduce from this?'
Volgo's jaw worked as if he werechewing some unpleasant morsel. 'If the dwarf wasn't in that fight,he's probably still around somewhere. The elf might try to makecontact.'
'That is my hope, yes. Have you beenable to confirm the fate of the others? The thief, thefairy?'
The fighter shifted his big frameuneasily and raised his hand to his forehead. He tapped himselfbetween the eyes three times, a warding against the fey.
Rhendish suppressed a sigh. WhateverVolgo's accomplishments as a fighter and commander might be, he wasas unschooled and superstitious as any Kronhus goatherd.
'I have men out looking, peopletalking to the fisherfolk,' the captain said. 'No bodies havewashed ashore or been pulled from the sea. I'm fairly confident thefisherfolk are telling the truth on this score. But if the Fox andhis fairy survived, chances are no one will have much tosay.'
Rhendish nodded in reluctantagreement. For some inexplicable reason, the young thief had becomesomething of a folk hero. As for the fairy, the people of Sevrinwere hesitant to speak of the fey for fear of drawing
