Part 26 (1/2)
”Do you think the Shadowstorms behind the barriers and the storms that escaped into the fief are related?”
”Kaylin, it may come as a surprise to you, but my familiarity with the effects of storms is of necessity scant. I cannot answer the question, even to surmise. I will, however, say this: if she is recognized in some fas.h.i.+on as a Dragon by the Dragons, there will be difficulties.” He frowned. ”That sword.”
She glanced at the scabbard. ”Yes?”
”It is not your usual weaponry.”
”No. It's-it's new.”
”May I examine it?”
”No.” She really, really did not want to have to force the sword into the scabbard a second time.
”The scabbard?”
d.a.m.n it. ”The scabbard came from Evanton. The Keeper. The sword came from the heart of the fiefs. It was the weapon wielded by the man whose name I now hold.”
”Not even you could be foolish enough to take a weapon from the heart of the fiefs.” The words were flat and cold. They also contained a thread of very strong doubt.
”The sword didn't come from the heart of the fiefs originally; it was carried there by a man who was possessed by the Shadows. In his world.”
”Corporal, I believe the crystal can be deactivated,” the fieflord said as he took a seat and poured himself another gla.s.s of wine. This he drank as if it were water. ”Private, please explain what exactly you mean by the phrase *his world.'”
”I think-and there's some minor translational difficulty-that the man who carried this sword, the man whose name I now hold, originally came from the same world as the rest of the Norannir-which is what we're now calling the refugees. They either recognized him or recognized what he's supposed to be.”
”He traveled with them?”
”No. He was lost to Shadows during their war in their own lands.”
”Yet he is here now and this did not alarm you?”
”It didn't overly alarm anyone else.”
”By anyone, I a.s.sume you refer to the Dragons.”
She thought about this; it hadn't alarmed Severn or Morse, either, but she knew Nightshade wouldn't consider this significant. ”Yes, I mean the Dragons. And the Tower.”
”The Dragons may well be viscerally preoccupied with your investigation.”
”We know there are other worlds.”
”Yes.”
”We suspect that Ravellon is the place where those worlds overlap.”
”Yes, you suspect that.”
”...That seemed to explain his presence.”
”At this time? After the traveler found this particular world for his people? After the challenge issued by the Outcaste and answered in full fury by the Dragon Court?” All traces of the usual possessiveness that underlaid his communications with Kaylin had momentarily vanished. He turned to Severn and said, ”Corporal, if you would, I would hear your thoughts on this matter.”
Severn was silent. He intended to let Kaylin speak. Either that or he was disinclined to aid Nightshade; it was hard to tell. Kaylin, however, didn't speak. She was-and was surprised to be-angry. At herself, certainly, because Nightshade was right. At Nightshade because, well, he was right. She wondered if his eyes would ever be emerald again. It was a stray thought.
Wine was once again poured; Nightshade didn't bother to offer any of it to either of the Hawks because neither of them had touched theirs. ”Let me ask you an entirely different question, then. Where-and by whom-was the sword you now carry made?”
”I-I don't know.”
”I suggest, if possible, you attempt to find an answer to that question. It may be relevant to many of your investigations.” He lifted a hand to his eyes. ”While I have never been as...ambitious as Lord Tiamaris, there is work that my fief requires. I will ask you now to pay careful attention to two things. The Dragons and the sword.”
”The man who carried the sword?”
”Because he is a source of information, he, too, is to be watched.”
Kaylin rose. ”Lord Nightshade,” she said, matching his use of ”Private.” ”I wish to ask one question.”
”I am not inclined to either stop you or answer.”
She asked anyway. ”How do I release a name?”
”How do you forget speech? How do you forget how to breathe?” His brows had once again lifted, but only slightly. ”There is only one certain way that I am aware of, Private. It involves your death. Or his.”
So not the answer she wanted.
”We do not, however, always get what we desire-if indeed such a trivial impulse can truly be cla.s.sified as desire.” He set his empty gla.s.s down on the table. ”And yes, I am not being entirely truthful; I have no idea how you contain the name, but you do; there is therefore a possibility that you could release it. I could not. No more could the Dragons.
”In return for the information I have provided, I will ask one favor. I have information for your Sergeant Ka.s.san, which I will trouble myself to deliver in person. It is consequential in one of the investigations which you find so troubling-and in which you are not currently involved.”
”Which investigation, exactly?” Kaylin asked, although she had a sinking feeling that implied her subconscious, at least, already knew the answer.
”There is, if my information is correct, some difficulty with the Imperial Exchequer?”
d.a.m.n it.
”The information I provide, however, comes at a cost.”
”And that cost?”
”I wish you to travel to the West March.”
”P-pardon?”
”With me.”
”But you can't travel to the West March-you're Outcaste, or have you forgotten?”
”It will require a leave of absence on your part. The Sergeant, or perhaps the Lord of Hawks, will grant it, or I have nothing to offer them.”
Nightshade was annoyed enough that Kaylin was left to find her own way out of his Castle, which meant about twenty minutes of wobbling legs and intermittent nausea. Severn accommodated her by walking slowly until she'd fully recovered.
”I don't like it,” he said. Since that was pretty much a given, Kaylin nodded. ”Why the West March?”