Path of the Sun: A Novel of Dhulyn and Parno (39 page)

WINTER-ASH SHAKES HER HEAD, LOWER LIP BETWEEN HER TEETH. “WE DO NOT KNOW THE LANDS OF FIELDS AND TOWNS,” SHE SAYS. “THEY WOULD KILL US THERE. COME, HERE IS A PATH .” ...

THIS PATH LEADS THEM DOWN AND AROUND AN OUTCROPPING OF BOULDERS AND THROUGH ANOTHER FIELD, WITH THE SUN SHINING OVERHEAD. THIS IS HAY, WITH ITS CLEAN GRASS SMELL, BUT IT IS FOUR OR MORE SEASONS OLD, GROWN WEEDY, WITH SMALL TREES ALREADY THRUSTING UP TALLER THAN THE GRASS. SOMETHING WHITE CATCHES DHULYN’S EYE, AND SHE STOPS, CROUCHING ON HER HEELS TO EXAMINEIT MORE CLOSELY.

“BONES,” WINTER-ASH SAYS FROM ABOVE HER. “WHAT MAKES THEM SO WHITE?”

“HUMAN BONES,” DHULYN AGREES. “THE SUN AND TIME HAVE BLEACHED THEM. THEY’VE LAIN HERE MORE THAN ONE SEASON, THAT’S CERTAIN.”

“LOOK.” THE SHORTER WOMAN HOLDS UP WHAT LOOKS LIKE A STRAND OF SILK, THE COLOR OF OLD BLOOD. DHULYN HOLDS OUT HER HAND FOR IT AND SEES THAT IT IS A LONG TRESS OF UNBRAIDED HAIR.

“IT MIGHT ALMOST BE FROM ONE OF US,” WINTER-ASH SAYS, AND THERE IS A NOTE IN HER VOICE THATDHULYN DOES NOT EXPECT. “IS THERE ANYTHING OTHER THAN EMPTINESS AND ABANDONMENT FOR US TO SEE IN THIS WORLD THAT IS TO COME?” ...

THE THIN, SANDY-HAIRED MAN IS STILL WEARING THE GOLD RINGS IN HIS EARS, BUT HIS FACE IS LINED NOW, AND HIS FOREHEAD HIGHER. HE IS SITTING AT A SQUARE TABLE, ITS TOP INLAID WITH LIGHTER WOODS, READING BY THE LIGHT OF TWO LAMPS. A PLATE TO HIS LEFT CONTAINS THE REMNANTS OF A MEAL—CHICKEN OR SOME OTHER FOWL, JUDGING BY THE BONES. HE LOOKS TOWARD THE ROOM’S SINGLE WINDOW AND RISES TO LOOK OUT. HE MUST HAVE STEPPED IN SOMETHING WET FOR HIS FEET, CLAD IN THE EMBROIDERED FELT OF HOUSE SLIPPERS, LEAVE DARK MARKS ON THE FLOOR. IT IS DARK OUTSIDE, AND THERE MUST BE NO MOON, FOR DHULYN CAN SEE NOTHING OUTSIDE THE WINDOW. THE MAN TURNS TOWARD THE TABLE AGAIN AND, SMILING, SAYS “HOW CAN I HELP?” ...

GUNDARON AND MAR ARE SITTING ON THE GROUND, LEANING ON ONE ANOTHER. MAR HAS HER ARM AROUND GUN, AND SHE IS WHISPERING TO HIM, THOUGH EVEN WITH THE HEIGHTENED EXPERIENCE OF BEING HERE WITH OTHERSEERS, DHULYN CANNOT MAKE OUT THE WORDS. WHAT IS WRONG WITHGUN? WHY DOESMAR LOOK SO WORRIED? DHULYN TAKES A STEP CLOSER AND SITS DOWN ON HER HEELS TO GET A BETTER ANGLE ON GUN’S FACE. HE TURNS TOWARD HER, BUT HE DOESN’T SEE HER. NOT ONLY BECAUSE HE IS NOT HIMSELF USING HIS MARK AT THIS MOMENT, BUT BECAUSE HIS EYES ARE COVERED WITH A STRIP OF CLOTH. DHULYN REACHES OUT A HAND BUT STOPS WELL SHORT OF TOUCHING HIM—EVEN IF SHE COULD. DOES A BLINDFINDER STILL HAVE HISMARK?

“WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE?” WINTER-ASH ASKS.

“FRIENDS OF MINE.”

“YOU HAVE FRIENDS?”

THIS TIMEDHULYN RECOGNIZES THE NOTE OF LONGINGIN THE OTHER WOMAN’S VOICE, AND SHE TURNS TO LOOK AT THEM MORE CLOSELY.

“THESE VISIONS ARE FOR YOU, TO HELP YOU FIND YOUR KILLER. DO THEY TELL YOU ANYTHING USEFUL?”

“YOU ARE SURE IT IS THE FUTURE WE SEE?” DHULYN TURNS, AND SHE IS STANDING ON A ROCKY OUTCROP, THE THREE ESPADRYNI WOMAN ARRANGED AROUND HER. SHE FEELS HER HEART LIFT, AND SHE LOOKS AROUND, SMILING. THIS IS WHAT SHE HAS SEEN AND FELT BEFORE, WHEN SHE WAS WITH THE WHITE SISTERS OF MORTAXA. COLORS ARE SHARPER, SCENTS CRISPER, AND SHE CAN FEEL THE COOLNESS OF THE AIR ON HER SKIN, ASIF SHE EXPERIENCES THEM HERSELF, NOT MERELY AS A WATCHER. AS IF THEVISION HAS NOW A REALITY IT CANNOT HAVE WHEN SHESEES ALONE.

SHE LOOKS OVER AND SEES THE ESPADRYNI WOMEN DIRECTLY, STANDING BEHIND HER, ARMS AROUND EACH OTHER’ S WAISTS IN THE FIRST FREELY AFFECTIONATE GESTURE SHE HAS EVER SEEN FROM THEM. SHE LOOKS INTO THEIR FACES. AT FIRST SHE ISN’T SURE, BUT THEN SHE SEES THEIR SMILES ARE DIFFERENT, AND THERE IS LIGHT, WARMTH, HUMOR, AND EVEN HOPE IN THEIR EYES. DHULYN SWALLOWS AND BLINKS BACK THE MOISTURE THAT FORMS IN HER OWN EYES. THIS IS THE SAME PHENOMENON THAT HAD GOVERNED THEVISIONS OF THE WHITE SISTERS OF THE MORTAXA. THOSE WOMEN, SUFFERERS FROM THE WHITE DISEASE AND WITH THE MINDS OF CHILDREN, HAD BEEN THEIR ADULT SELVES WHILE IN THE WORLD OF VISIONS. HERE THE ESPADRYNI WOMEN, ALSO, ARE WHOLE AND UNBROKEN.

“SO, YOU SEE HOW IT IS FOR US. THOUGH THE WORLD OFVISIONS IS NO REFUGE,” WINTER-ASH SAYS. “WE CANNOT STAY HERE, WHERE THERE IS NEITHER FOOD NOR DRINK. THE OTHERS WOULD NOT FEED OUR BODIES.”

“ANYMORE THAN WE WOULD FEED THEIRS, WERE OUR POSITIONS REVERSED,” SAYS THE SHORTER WOMAN. WINTER-ASH HUGS HER.

“HERE ARE NIGHT-SKY,” SHE SAYS. “AND FEATHER-FLIGHT. OUR HEARTS ARE FULL TO MEET YOU FINALLY, DHULYN WOLFSHEAD.”

“WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU? TO ALL THE MARKED,” DHULYN ASKS. “HAVE YOU EVER SEEN?”

“LOOK, WE WILL SHOW YOU.” WINTER-ASH GESTURES, ANDDHULYN FOLLOWS THE SWEEP OF THE YOUNG WOMAN’S HAND UNTIL SHE IS STANDING ONCE MORE IN THE ROOM SHE HAS SEEN SO MANY TIMES. HERE IS THE MAGE WITH HIS PALE, CLOSE-CROPPED HAIR. HE IS ON HIS KNEES; HE BOWS HIS HEAD, HIS HANDS COVERING HIS FACE WITH THEIR JADE GREEN EYES. DHULYN, EXCEPT IT ISN’T DHULYN HERE, IT IS SOMEONE ELSE IN THE PART SHE USUALLY PLAYS. THIS SOMEONE ELSE LIFTS HIS SWORD HIGH AND STRIKES. AS THE BLADE ENTERS THEMAGE’S FLESH, THE FLESH TURNS TO STONE AND SHATTERS, EXPLODING INTO A PALE GREEN DUST THAT BLANKS THE VISION OUT . . .

“THERE, YOU SEE? THAT IS WHAT WE ARE SHOWN, OVER AND OVER, WHEN WE ASK TO SEE WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO US. ALWAYS THE ROOM, THE MIRROR, AND OURCHAMPION DEFEATING THEGREEN SHADOW. THE FINE DUST THAT OBSCURES ALL AND PREVENTS US FROM SEEING WHY, HOW, WEMARKED BECAME WHAT WE BECAME.”

DHULYN SHAKES HER HEAD. “THAT IS NOT WHAT HAPPENED IN OUR WORLD.”

“YOUSAW IT? HOW WAS IT DIFFERENT?”

“I DIDSEE IT, YES, BUTI WAS ALSO THERE, AT THE END.”

“HOW CAN THAT BE? THE GREEN SHADOW IS WHAT CAUSED THE FALL OF THE CAIDS, AND YOU ARE NOT SO OLD AS THAT, SURELY.”THE THREE WOMEN SMILE AT HER, SHAKING THEIR HEADS.

“IN MY WORLD THE GREEN SHADOW WAS NOT DEFEATED QUICKLY, BUT APPEARED AND REAPPEARED. WHEN IT WAS FINALLY DEFEATED,” SHE WAVES HER HAND AT WHERE THE VISION REPLAYS AROUND THEM, “THIS IS NOT WHAT HAPPENED.”

“IN WHAT MANNER WAS IT DIFFERENT?”

“HAVE YOU SEEN THE MAGE WHEN HIS EYES ARE THE BLUE OF OLD ICE?” THEY NOD. “THAT IS THE REAL MAGE, THE ONE WHO CAN READ THE BOOK—”

“WHAT BOOK?”

DHULYNLOOKS AROUND, BUT AT THAT MOMENT THEGREEN DUST HAS EXPLODED, AND THERE IS NOTHING OF THE ROOM TO BE SEEN. “THERE IS A SPELL BOOK ON THE MAGE’S TABLE,” SHE SAYS. “IT IS HOW THE SHADOW WAS CALLED. AND THE MAGE CAN READ THE BOOK, AND ...” DHULYN’S VOICE DIES AWAY. THE VISION IS REPEATING ONCE MORE AND SHE CAN SEE THE DESK, BUT IT IS BARE, THERE IS NO BOOK UPON IT. ONCE AGAIN THE SWORD FALLS, AND THEGREEN SHADOW SHATTERS INTO DUST.

“WHERE DOES THE DUST GO?” SHE ASKS.

WINTER-ASH BRUSHES AT HERSELF AND THEN AT THE AIR, BUT THE DUST DOES NOT DISPERSE. SHE CANNOT TOUCH IT; IT IS AS IF THEY WERE NOT THERE. “WE CANNOTSEE BEYOND THIS MOMENT .”

“HAVE YOU EVER ASKED HOW YOU MAY BE MADE WHOLE AGAIN?” DHULYN SEES FROM THEIR PATIENT LOOKS THAT OF COURSE THEY HAVE. “AND WHAT WERE YOU SHOWN THEN?”

“YOU .”

“PARDON?” DHULYN WANTS TO SHAKE HER HEAD, SHAKE AWAY THE IDEA THAT CREEPS ITS WAY INTO HER BRAIN.

“WE SEE YOU, DHULYN WOLFSHEAD. THAT IS WHY WE ARE HERE. SOMEHOW, YOU WILL HELP US FIND WHAT WE SEEK.”

I WISH WE HADA FINDER WITH US
, DHULYN THINKS.
I NEED GUN.
“PERHAPS YOU ARE NOT ASKING THE RIGHT QUESTIONS,” DHULYN SAYS. SHE TAPS HER TEETH WITH THE TIP OF HER TONGUE. “IN OUR WORLD, THE GREEN SHADOW WAS SHATTERED OVER AND OVER AGAIN, AND ITS PIECES CAUSED MUCH MISCHIEF BEFORE THE END FINALLY CAME.” SHE WAVES HER HAND AT THE ROOM AROUND THEM. “YOU ASK HOW YOU CAME TO BE BROKEN, AND YOU ARE SHOWN THISVISION. IN MY WORLD THEGREENSHADOW WAS A NOTHINGNESS, AN UNPLACE, A FORMLESS NOWHERE THAT UNMADE.” DHULYN TAKES WINTER-ASH’S LEFT HAND IN HER RIGHT AND HOLDS OUT HER LEFT FORNIGHT-SKY. THE WOMEN QUICKLY UNDERSTAND AND FORM A CIRCLE. “WHERE IS THIS DUST NOW?” DHULYN ASKS.

THE VISION BEGINS TO CHANGE, THE ROOM FADING AWAY, AS IF IN ANSWER TO HER QUESTION. SHAPES BEGIN TO FORM, BUT THEY FADE AGAIN. “WHERE IS THE DUST?” DHULYN ASKS AGAIN, AND THIS TIME THE SHADOWS AROUND THEM ALMOST CLEAR. DHULYN THINKS SHE SEES HORSES WALKING IN THE FOG, TWO WITH RIDERS. THEN THAT IMAGE FADES ALSO, THE SHADOWS DISAPPEAR, AND NOW THERE ARE TWO WOMEN BEFORE THEM, TWO WOMEN WITH WHITE SKIN, BONE-PALE HAIR, RED EYES. “SISTER,” THE ONE ON THE LEFT SAYS, THE ONE WITH THE GOLD FLECK IN HER EYE. “SISTER, WAKE UP. YOU HAVE BEEN TOO LONG IN VISION PLACE. YOU MUST RETURN .”

“NO,” CRIES WINTER-ASH. “WE ARE SO CLOSE, WE ALMOSTSAW, WE MUST NOT STOP NOW.”

“SISTER, DHULYN,” SAYS THE SECOND WHITE TWIN. “YOU MUST GO BACK NOW. THE TIME TO DESTROY THE SHADOW IS NOT YET.”

“WHAT DOES SHE MEAN,” NIGHT-SKY SAYS. “THE SHADOW WAS DEFEATED LONG AGO.”

“DHULYN KNOWS. SHE HAS THE ANSWER, BUT YOU MUST RETURN NOW.”

“NO,” WINTER-ASH IS CRYING. “WE ARE SO CLOSE, WE MAY NOT WANT TO TRY AGAIN, ONCE WE RETURN TO OUR WORLDLY SELVES. THEY ONLY DID THIS OUT OF CURIOSITY, AND NOW THEY WILL NOT CARE. WE CANNOT GO BACK NOW.” SHE CATCHES UP DHULYN’S LEFT HAND IN HER RIGHT AND GESTURES AT FEATHER-FLIGHT AND NIGHT-SKY, WHO QUICKLY JOIN HER IN CREATING THE CIRCLE.

DHULYN LOOKS TO THE WHITE TWINS, BUT THEY ARE GONE.

E
PION PULLED AT his lower lip. The corridor outside the Tarkina’s apartments was not wide enough to allow for a ram—had in fact been designed that way—but neither was the door designed to withstand two men with battle axes for more than a short period. Only enough time as would be needed, in fact, to access the secret passage—that is, if anyone but Epion still knew about the things. He sighed and dropped his hand. He knew he should have insisted on sending in one of his own people, Julen was known to be fiercely loyal to Falcos. But preventing the guard from performing what was, after all, her actual duty in protecting the princess would have raised too many questions.

It was a simple plan, and a good one. It was a shame, really, that it had not played out. The first steps had gone beautifully. The guards he had spoken to had been shocked, but in the face of all that had happened in the last two years, and the rumors about Falcos he’d had circulating since the old Tarkin’s death, they were ready at least to listen and to follow his orders. After all, he wasn’t asking them to do anything more than hold Falcos safe. And if he had anticipated events slightly, if he had not actually consulted the council as yet, well, no one knew it but him.

If Alaria and those blooded Scholars had only come out of the rooms, this would all be over now and the council faced with the fact of Falcos’ apparent suicide. Epion straightened up. He could only hope that when the assassin realized the rooms were still occupied he would go back to the library entrance.

With luck, this was only a small hitch in the plan. Once they were through the door Falcos could still be isolated—perhaps in his own rooms—and the assassin could pay him a visit then. Let Alaria and the Scholars think whatever they liked for the moment. Falcos’ “suicide” would answer all questions.

“My lord.” Gabe-Leggett was signaling to him. They had breached the door, finally, and the guard with the ax was reaching through, trying to get leverage on the bars to lift them away.

Epion gestured him aside and stooped to peer through the opening. The room within was empty, doors to the balcony open, curtains blowing in. Epion stifled a smile. Not even Falcos was stupid enough to try that route of escape. The tide was out, and there was nothing outside that balcony now but rocks. No, they would be hiding in one of the other rooms, that was all.

He stepped back from the opening. “Continue,” he directed. “But take care, there were weapons in the princess’ baggage, and the Tarkin may have forced her to supply them. Do your best not to hurt anyone, especially the princess and the Scholars, but do not put yourselves at risk either. I have called for the Healer, but he has not yet arrived.”

Another lie that would not matter if all else went well. A lie, moreover, that should convince them he was on the side of the Caids. Concerned for their safety, worried about the precious princess, but reluctantly doing the right thing when it came to his poor mad nephew. And if they thought he’d called for the Healer to help Falcos, well, so much the better.

It would not take much longer to open the door, Epion decided. He signaled to the Leggett brothers.

“With luck he will fight,” he told them in low tones. “Try to make it so. Engage with him yourselves.”

“Finish with him?” Jo-Leggett said in the same quiet voice. His brother, Gabe-Leggett, remained impassive, his eyes steady on Epion’s face.

“Not if you can avoid it. Knocking him senseless would be preferable at the moment.” The two men nodded.

“My lord.”

This time the door was open, and at Epion’s signal the men went through, the Leggetts in front. In a moment, Gabe-Leggett was back, his mouth set in a grim line.

“The rooms are empty, my lord.”

Epion’s hands closed into fists. He had been certain,
certain
that only he knew of the existence of the secret passages. His brother, the old Tarkin, had not told Falcos—he had only admitted their existence when Epion had asked about them, refusing to give any more details and demanding to know how Epion had learned of them. Epion had passed off his knowledge as a story he’d heard in childhood, but in truth he had found the map of the passages in the same old book in which he’d found the key to the Path.

Though thus far only the diagram to the passages had been of any use, and that somewhat limited. The locations of the exits and entrances had been indicated, but not always how they had been hidden, and Epion had only had time to find how the library entrance worked. With help, he would have found more, but anyone who helped him had to be fed to the man from the Path.

Still, the passages were complicated, and there was time to use what he
did
know. He signaled to his own men.

“Jo-Leggett, send men you can trust to the Tarkin’s rooms, the throne room, and the stables.” Those seemed the three likeliest places for Falcos to go. “Also the library and the kitchens.” The latter was so public it was probably safe, but he could take no chances. “Send half a squad at least to each place. And then come to me in the stables.” There
was
one more exit, the most likely one, now that he thought of it. Best the Leggett boys go themselves. “The same instructions apply, mind you,” he said. “Detain him only.”