Part 43 (1/2)

The gryphon's croon became a scream, drawn-out and deafening. She reared back and beat her wings, then dropped again.

Prospero scowled. ”There's nothing for't but to find her myself,” he said, covering concern with ill-humor.

Trixie squalled again and stamped all four feet impa-tiently. Prospero nodded. ”Eat thou and rest,” he said. ”We'll go later.”

He left the anima! there, telling two soldiers to see that the gryphon was not disturbed. ”And do you shoo another pig to her, if she hungers still.”

Freia was in trouble after all, and Prospero felt a sinking misgiving. He hoped it was something as painless to repair as a broken leg.

Ottaviano had come to respect his stubbornly silent hos-tage. He questioned her diligently under all the compulsions he knew which would not damage her permanently, and she resisted him with all her will. Shaking under the strain of holding silence, she would bite her lips b.l.o.o.d.y or grind her 358.

”EfizaBeth teeth, her face contorted, muscles locked, keeping herself from answering any questions. Golias favored breaking her, forcing her further than she would be able to resist, and Otto opposed him saying that their primary concern was to turn her over to the Emperor in good condition, else he might well dispute any concessions they wrung from him. Golias conceded grudgingly.

They had heard from the Emperor only that he weighed their offer, and Golias was impatient for results.

”He's had it for ten days,” he said.

”That's not very long to consider a major rearrangement of the real estate in the contiguous realm,” Otto replied.

”He's dragging his feet,” Golias said. ”Probably planning an attack: that's what I'd do.”

”We're ready for it.”

”It's been long enough for him to say something,” Golias insisted. ”We have to put the pressure on him.” He sat on the edge of the table where Otto was eating lunch, playing with a dagger, throwing it and catching it.

Otto ignored the dagger flying up and down beside his head. ”What did you have in mind?”

”You have a fast tongue. Go to Landuc and start d.i.c.kering. Take some of the Lys and Ascolet guys with you. A so-called honor guard. Let him know you're serious.”

Otto shook his head. ”If Prospero shows up here, you'll be defenseless.”

”Neyphile can handle him.”

Ottaviano set down his knife and spoon and stared at Golias. ”I don't want her in on this.”

”She's reliable, unlike your last sorcerer. And she's easy to deal with. Don't worry, it'd be on my tab,” Golias said. He pared his left thumbnail with the knife. ”If he shows up, anyway, and she takes him on, there may not be a tab to pay.”

”Probably not. Prospero's got a lot of power at his fingertips.” Otto thought. The girl was a hot property, unquestionably. Getting her out of their hands quickly was only to their advantage. Going to Landuc to negotiate the business Sorcerer and a (jentieman 359.

in person would force the Emperor to step one way or another, move things along.

He had to admit that Golias had the right of it: putting a little pressure on the Emperor now would work for them.

”If you're confident that you won't have any trouble you can't handle, I'll go,” Otto said.

Golias grinned. ”Don't sell me out.”

”Of course not. Let's go through the list of fallbacks tonight.”

”How many men will you take?”

”One company of Ascolet. No need for more: that's enough to show I mean business and to deal with any . . . difficulty there may be.”

”I'm going to rearrange security a little,” Golias said, tossing the knife and catching it by the point. He swung it back and forth, pendulum-like. ”Just in case.”

”Ariel!”

”Yes, Master!”

”My daughter's gone astray. Find her.”

Ariel thought about it. ”Where is she missing, Lord?”

”From here, my wisp-witted friend,” Prospero said.

”My Lord, I mean-know you in which of the spheres she was last to be found?”

”Ah. That I know not. 'Tis likely to be the Fire's realm of Pheyarcet.”

”Oh,” said Ariel, and hesitated further.

”Begone, Ariel. This is no light matter. She may be wounded, ill, or lost.”

Ariel rustled through the leaves of a book on the table. ”I go, Master, but it will take some time . . .”

”I understand,” Prospero said. ”As thou understandest it had best not take too much.” He gestured.

Ariel made a popping noise. ”Yes, Master,” he squeaked, ”I fly, I fly . . .”

”Good Ariel. When hast found her, return here at once with such tidings of her state and place as canst a.s.semble.”

360.

'EGzaBetfi ”Yes, Master,” sighed Ariel, and swished through the open cas.e.m.e.nt.

Prospero tapped at the open pages of his book with his wand.

It was the fastest way he knew of to find anything: send a Sylph. Ariel was thorough and trustworthy, if a little distractable. There was nothing more to be done, now. He couldn't Summon her back, which was the simplest way of dealing with it; he could not Summon beyond the area dominated by the cool, liquid flow of the Spring-even as he could not Summon from Landuc's Pheyarcet to Phesao-tois-and he had performed a Summoning within his Spring's realm. There had been nothing. She did not know how to s.h.i.+eld herself, so therefore she was dead or not in range.

He preferred to think her not in range. Moreover, were she dead, Trixie would not have returned alive. The gryphon would have done anything to kill Freia's killer.

Prospero paced. Light-minded wench, he thought. He'd settle her somehow. Flouting his most plainly patent command! He muttered, ”d.a.m.nation, Freia, I'll pack thee off to-nay, in sooth Pd not do that; I'd liever keep ttiee here where I can ward thee. Nay, no idle threat for thee. Should marry thee off. Give thee fitting matter to engage thee, hah. Scudamor's fond of thee; so's Utrachet, but I cannot quite see wedding thee, apple-daughter, to a man I know full well was a long-clawed burrowing eskor or a wildcat.”

He snorted at the joke.

”Nay, 'twouldn't do,” he tutted to himself, and stopped pacing to stare out the ungtazed window at the stars. He must ground her, but not basely. For Freia, the mate must be a peer, and strong-minded. Had Avril found out about Ottaviano yet, or vice-versa? Twould be a handsome touch. Foolish Cecilie. Pull a bag over Avril's head and tie it at his neck. Twas ill wind that blew no good, though. Prospero would have to track Ottaviano down. See what sort of fellow he was, what use might be made of him: friendly with Dewar, could be a recommendation-apprenticed with Neyphile, though he seemed not to have surpa.s.sed her Sorcerer and a Qentteman 361.

teaching or ability, nor to have learned anything from Dewar. A procedural, not an original, sorcerer.

Prospero stopped pacing and stood over his golden scrying-bowl. Dewar, he thought, and s.h.i.+vered. Odile's son crackled with power and anger. Yes, he had better settle Freia ere he settled with the boy.