Part 49 (2/2)
She hesitated a moment, then blurted out, ”I saw something. When I took the kitchen sc.r.a.ps to the gate. For the poor. We do that during the festival. After the sezhta. We take food to all four gates-”
”Aye. And?”
”I was at the western gate. I saw the Zheron's guards coming up the path. Your father was with them.”
”That's impossible. My . . . the Spirit-Hunter's gone. He left the city.”
”It was him. He stood head and shoulders above the guards.” She refused to look at him, just stared at the stone flags while her fingers creased her gown and smoothed it again. ”They were headed toward the slave compound.”
All he could do was shake his head.
”I couldn't come before. I only just finished in the kitchen. I wasn't even sure if I should tell you. But . . . he's your father. And I thought you should know.”
Finally, he managed to move, but as he pushed past Hircha, she grabbed his arm. ”What are you going to do?”
”I have to go to him!”
”You'll only make things worse.”
”Then I'll find Malaq.”
”Only the queen can help him now.”
”Then I'll go to her!”
”Xevhan probably ran to her while the blood from this morning's sacrifice was still warm.” Hircha grimaced. ”Unless he waited until he was finished with the blind girl.”
The thought of what Xevhan might have done to the little singer only fueled his bloodl.u.s.t. His mouth filled with saliva and he swallowed hard, refusing to give in to the overwhelming urge to find Xevhan and kill him.
He shook off Hircha and began pacing Malaq's chamber. He had to do something. He couldn't just wait here while they tortured his father to get the truth from him. Then he saw the snake earring, lying on the table. He scooped it up and was heading toward the doorway when Hircha said, ”If you're looking for me, I can save you a hot, dusty trip.”
It took him a moment to realize it wasn't Hircha's voice, another to turn and discover the apparition, lounging in the doorway of the garden. Part of his mind registered her strange appearance; the other was trying to imagine how she had scaled the wall to Malaq's garden in her long robe.
”We can talk more privately outside.”
He exchanged a quick look with Hircha before following her.
They found her lolling on the bench at the far end of the garden. ”In a few moments, the queen's guards will arrive to take you to the adder pit, so I fear we must dispense with pleasantries. I am the Supplicant of the G.o.d with Two Faces. How I got here is unimportant. Your father will be sacrificed at dawn tomorrow on the altar of Zhe. And if you're going to faint, I suggest you put your head between your knees and breathe slowly.”
The scorn in her voice brought his head up. ”I'm not going to faint.”
”I'm relieved.”
”And I was was coming to you. You gave my father this. He gave it to me.” coming to you. You gave my father this. He gave it to me.”
”I'm aware of the chain of events.”
”Can you help him?”
”I've already given Darak the help he requires.”
Keirith stumbled toward her and went down on his knees.
”First your father, now you. It's obviously a day for begging. To save time-and your knees-let us consider your anguished pleas completed. I refuse.”
”But . . . he's going to die. You can't let that happen.”
”I can. But it would mean breaking a promise, which I am loath to do. Besides, I'm fond of Darak.”
”How do you-?”
”I have neither the time nor the inclination to enlighten you as to my relations.h.i.+p with your father. Nor do I have the patience to listen to you plead. It seems to me you do very little else. 'Supplicant, help my father.' 'Malaq, help my father.' When are you you going to help him?” going to help him?”
Keirith got to his feet, anger overcoming his shock. ”I tried to help him!”
”Oh, yes. Urkiat. That did show initiative. Now it's time to show a bit more. For years, you've complained about being in your father's shadow. Here's a marvelous opportunity to step out of it.” Her expression grew stern. ”You have power, Keirith. Far more than your father possessed when he destroyed Morgath. Why don't you use it?”
”How?”
”That, I'm afraid, you'll have to figure out for yourself.” She smiled brightly. ”It's been lovely meeting you. I hope we shall see each other again, but that's rather difficult to predict at the moment. Oh, and Hircha. You showed initiative in bringing Keirith the news of his father's arrest. That sort of behavior will serve you far better than limping about, nursing your resentment.”
The draperies billowed as she stepped into the chamber. In the time it took him to rip them aside, she had vanished; there was no possible way she could have reached the doorway so quickly.
Hircha flicked her forefinger against her thumb three times, then smacked her palms together four times in the Zherosi sign to banish evil.
Forget about how she comes and goes. Think about what she said.
He must use his power. But how? To convince the queen to be merciful? To kill Xevhan before he could sacrifice his father?
Think, Keirith, think.
He'd never be able to sway the queen. If he killed Xevhan, another priest would simply take his place as Zheron. Short of killing every guard in the slave compound, he wouldn't be able to free his father. And regardless of the Supplicant's mockery, he doubted his power alone could save him.
”Hircha? Will you help me?”
”I . . . what do you want me to do?”
”Go to the place Xevhan held the entertainment. If the players aren't there, see if you can find them.”
”They could be anywhere in the city!”
”I know!” Quickly, he lowered his voice. ”Just try. Find the little man. The fair-haired one who sang with my father. He might help.”
”Do what?”
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