Part 23 (1/2)

”Maybe,” she said thoughtfully, ”I should go talk to someone who knows more about dead people.”

The wind was gusty as Aralorn took the path to the temple, but it didn't bother her as much today. Perhaps her lessons on centering helped her to block the voices more effectively, or else the ability was fading with time. She rather hoped for the latter.

The temple doors stood open, so she rode directly there, dismounted, and left Sheen standing outside.

”Tilda?” she called softly. The room appeared deserted, though by no means empty. In spite of the open door, it was warm inside, but there was no sign of a fire. She s.h.i.+vered and backed out of the temple, closing the doors carefully behind her.

Leading Sheen toward the little cottage, she told him, ”I don't know why that should unnerve me when I run around with wizards and shapechangers, but it does.”

There was a hitching post in front of the cottage, and Aralorn dropped Sheen's reins beside it.

”Be good,” she said, and patted him on the shoulder before taking the shoveled path to the door of the cottage.

”Enter,” bade a cheerful voice when she knocked. ”I'm in the kitchen, baking.”

Sure enough, when Aralorn opened the door, the smell of warm yeast billowed out.

”It's me, Aralorn.” She followed the smell to find Tilda up to her elbows in bread dough. ”I see I caught you working.”

Tilda laughed. ”Shh. Don't tell. A priestess is supposed to stand around and look mysterious.”

”That's all right, I generally get plenty of mysterious. Speaking of which, the temple door was opened. I shut it before I came here.”

Tilda smiled. ”Well then, we both welcome you here.”

”Thank you,” said Aralorn with what aplomb she'd managed to develop running around with Wolf. ”I came because I need to ask you a few questions.”

”Me or the priestess?”

Aralorn shrugged. ”Whichever one can answer my questions. Geoffrey ae'Magi is dead, right?”

”Yes,” Tilda answered without hesitation. ”Ridane sometimes tells me when significant people die.”

Aralorn let out a harsh breath of relief. She'd been pretty sure of it, but hearing it was better. She could deal with him dead-it was the living Geoffrey who had scared the courage out of her. ”A great many people, including the current ae'Magi, are convinced that his spirit is dreamwalking around Lambshold. Is that possible?”

”Dreamwalking?” Tilda stopped kneading her bread and looked thoughtful. ”I don't know.” She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath.

Something stirred in the air. It wasn't magic, but it was like enough to it that Aralorn could feel it drift through her and wrap itself about the priestess.

When Tilda opened her eyes, the pupil filled her iris, making her eyes appear almost black. ”No,” she said. ”There are a few ghosts in the area, old things for the most part. But nothing strong enough to influence the living.”

Aralorn nodded slowly. ”That's what I needed to know. Thank you.” She turned to go.

”Wait,” said the priestess. ”There is something ...”

”Yes?”

Tilda stared at her bread for a moment before looking up. She was pale as milk, and her pupils were contracted as if she stood in the noonday sun rather than in a cozy but rather dim cottage. ”If you are not very careful and very clever, there will be several more deaths soon.”

”I am always clever,” responded Aralorn, with more humor than she felt. ”Careful, we may have to work around.” Tilda still looked upset, so Aralorn added, ”I know that there is danger. It should not take me long to discover what has been happening these last few weeks. Once I know that-I'll know what can be done.”

”Ridane says that the web is spun, and one person at Lambshold will die no matter what you do.”

Aralorn had not dealt with G.o.ds much, but she was a firm believer in writing her own future. She was not about to let Ridane decide the fate of her family and friends. ”I'll do what I can. Thank you, Tilda. You've helped a great deal.”

Nevyn, she thought as she mounted Sheen. she thought as she mounted Sheen. It is Nevyn. It is Nevyn.

The stallion snorted and sidled and generally kept her attention until they were well on their way back to Lambshold. As she'd listened to Gerem's story, she had known it wasn't Geoffrey. If Geoffrey had known that there was a mage of Gerem's potential, untrained, at Lambshold, he would have moved mountains to get to him-untrained mages gave him so much more power than trained mages. So Geoffrey hadn't known about Gerem before he died. And, as a dead man seeking revenge, he would not have used Gerem to do his work-he'd have used Anasel. Surely a doddering old man who had been a great mage would have been a better target. But Nevyn avoided Anasel as he avoided most of the mageborn if he could. If he needed two other mages to help him, it would be Kisrah and Gerem. But Nevyn would never hurt her father.

One of Aralorn's greatest talents as a spy, other than being able to turn into a mouse, was her ability to take a few bits of knowledge and knit them into a whole story.

Kisrah told her that Nevyn was a dreamwalker.

Kisrah had long been a favorite of the ae'Magi's and spent a lot of time at the ae'Magi's castle.

Nevyn, who'd already suffered from being a mageborn Darranian, had been first apprenticed to a wizard who had abused him. That wizard, though powerful, had a bad enough reputation that the ae'Magi had never a.s.sociated with him willingly.

Those were the facts she had. It was enough for an experienced storyteller to work out the probabilities.

She saw in her head that boy, wary and nervous, taken by his new master to the ae'Magi's castle. Abused children try to protect themselves any way they can. They hide, they try to please their abuser, they use their magic. Santik had not been a dreamwalker; certainly his apprentice would have used his talent to spy upon him to try to stay safe. Perhaps dreamwalking to watch his master had already been a habit when he'd gone into Kisrah's care.

Kisrah would certainly have taken his new apprentice to the ae'Magi to see if Geoffrey had suggestions on how to handle the boy. Like Kisrah himself, Nevyn had had the promise of power, and Geoffrey would never have let such a wizard in his presence without ensuring that he, too, was caught up in the charisma spell. Maybe Nevyn had a ring like Kisrah's or some other bit of jewelry, given to him by the ae'Magi.

She wondered how long it had been before Nevyn, dreamwalking, had first spied upon the ae'Magi. Because once he had been abused, he certainly would have had trouble believing in the goodness of those a.s.signed to his care. Spying on Kisrah would have caused him no harm. But the ae'Magi . . . Even Kisrah, an adult, had been torn by the discrepancy between how he felt about Geoffrey because of the charisma spell and what he witnessed at the ae'Magi's castle. And Kisrah hadn't seen half of it. Wolf had-and Aralorn would have bet that Nevyn had as well.

Ah, G.o.ds, she thought. she thought. The poor boy. The poor boy.

Sheen guided himself for a bit while she dropped her reins to wipe at her eyes. He shook his head when she drew the reins taut again.

That first time, she thought, she thought, how old was Nevyn the first time? What did he see? how old was Nevyn the first time? What did he see?

She'd seen Geoffrey kill children, had seen a man she knew in the face of a shambling Uriah, had seen a woman who turned into a flesh-eating thing-and she'd only been around the last ae'Magi for weeks, not years. Wolf had experienced worse-and so, she was certain, had Nevyn. All the while he'd been defenseless, caught up by the ae'Magi's spell that bound him to think that the Archmage was the best, most wonderful of good men.

Each thread of the story flowed worse than the last.

Spying on the ae'Magi would have allowed Nevyn access to black magic. Geoffrey was a dreamwalker, too. Had he known that Nevyn was spying?

Of course he had, she thought. How could he not? Geoffrey had been as powerful as only a black mage who was also the Archmage could be. Had he compared them, Wolf and Nevyn, as he taught them both things children should never have to know? Nausea curled in her belly. It would have given him great pleasure to have them both, she thought, one boy who fought him and one who had already been taught to please an abusive master and now had one he was forced to love.

Nevyn would have been fully under the influence of the ae'Magi's magic. Knowing Knowing that the ae'Magi was wonderful and seeing the horrors he committed. What had that done to Nevyn? that the ae'Magi was wonderful and seeing the horrors he committed. What had that done to Nevyn?

”Aralorn!” bellowed Falhart from the stable door as she rode up. ”You missed our date.”

”Date?” she raised her eyebrows.

”Rematch, double or nothing-don't you remember?”