Part 37 (2/2)
Parno shrugged. ”When you tell someone how to catch fish, do you tell them what a fish is? What it looks like? Of course not, everyone knows what a fish is. But when we were in the deserts of Mondothir, we had to draw pictures of fish in the sands, for some of the tribes there had never seen one. These texts, they would be like that.”
”So Scholars try to understand fis.h.i.+ng, without ever having seen a fish?”
”Something like that, yes.”
”We must remember,” Gun said. ”What we have in our Libraries of the times of the Caids are mere sc.r.a.ps of their writings and knowledge. In his Commentaries, Commentaries, Holderon speculates that by the time the Shadow was finally defeated, so much of the land had been laid waste, blighted by its presence, that the rule of law collapsed. There followed a long period-no one knows how long, really, but it must have been generations, not years-before the books were gathered again, and learning reestablished. It was then that the first Jaldean Shrines, the Scholars' Libraries and the Mercenary Schools were founded, then that the Marked were first gathered into Guilds.” Holderon speculates that by the time the Shadow was finally defeated, so much of the land had been laid waste, blighted by its presence, that the rule of law collapsed. There followed a long period-no one knows how long, really, but it must have been generations, not years-before the books were gathered again, and learning reestablished. It was then that the first Jaldean Shrines, the Scholars' Libraries and the Mercenary Schools were founded, then that the Marked were first gathered into Guilds.”
”And if the method of calling the Sleeping G.o.d is in one of these lost texts?” A silence followed Zelianora's words.
”Excuse me,” Mar said, blus.h.i.+ng as everyone in the room turned their eyes to her. ”But surely calling the Sleeping G.o.d must have something to do with the Marked?” Her voice faltered as she took in the faces of those staring at her. ”Mustn't it? The Shadow has been gathering and destroying the Marked for months, maybe years. And Tek-aKet, when Dhulyn Wolfshead-I mean, the Shadow tried to destroy her as well.”
”Wonderful,” Parno growled. ”And the only trained Marks more than half a moon away.”
”Cullen?”
The Cloudman was already on his feet and heading for the door. ”Let me go to a rooftop. Sometimes I can reach over greater distances if I have greater height.”
”Dhulyn Wolfshead.” Zelianora Tarkina spoke into the silence that followed Cullen's departure. ”Before I return to Tek, I must ask. I have told myself time and again that I will not, but you have saved him twice now. Have you Seen anything?” The Tarkina rubbed her forehead with a hand that trembled. ”I'm sorry. I know you would have said.”
”I have Seen nothing new for days,” Dhulyn said. ”And what I have Seen-” she shook her head, frustration rising yet again. By force of will she kept herself from glancing down the table at Mar and Gundaron. ”Without a context, the things I have have Seen mean nothing. I do not even always recognize the people I See. Are my Sights important to our dilemma? How can I know?” Seen mean nothing. I do not even always recognize the people I See. Are my Sights important to our dilemma? How can I know?”
Zelianora bit her lip, then nodded her head. She patted her daughter's arm and stood.
”Send for me if there is any change,” Dhulyn said to her. ”And, Tarkina, don't release him, no matter what he says or does.”
The face that turned toward her at these words was not the face of the loving wife, but the face of a Queen's sister, and a future Tarkin's mother. ”No fear,” that regal face said. ”I will not.”
Dhulyn leaned back against the wall as the discussion went on among Dal-eDal, Gundaron, and Parno. Her Partner pulled out Zelianora's chair and sat down. She had nothing more to contribute, they were only rechewing the same mouthful of overcooked stew. She hadn't told the strict truth, but only Parno knew it. She hadn't hadn't Seen anything useful. She'd had several Visions more than once, but nothing that could help them. Mar-eMar in her silver gown. The unknown man-a mage? a king?-with his magic window. Was that a way to make the Shadow disperse? Would someone else call it into a different land? Gundaron sitting at a table, looking down on something. She repressed the urge to spit, mindful of Zelianora's clean parquet floor. Seen anything useful. She'd had several Visions more than once, but nothing that could help them. Mar-eMar in her silver gown. The unknown man-a mage? a king?-with his magic window. Was that a way to make the Shadow disperse? Would someone else call it into a different land? Gundaron sitting at a table, looking down on something. She repressed the urge to spit, mindful of Zelianora's clean parquet floor. Now Now there there was useful Sight was useful Sight. A Scholar, seated, looking down at a tabletop. If the Marks were a creation of the Caids, as some of the stories Gundaron had been talking about alleged, she wished she had a few of those old-timers with her now. She would give them the benefit of her thoughts on the subject of the Sight.
A movement at the far end of the table caught her eye, Gundaron fidgeting with his pen case. If her her Mark could not help them, and there was no Healer near enough to reach them quickly-would a different Mark be of more use? Mark could not help them, and there was no Healer near enough to reach them quickly-would a different Mark be of more use?
It was past time this meeting was ended.
Dhulyn Wolfshead sighed heavily, turned a chair around, and sat astride it, resting her cheek on her hands.
”Gundaron-Sun and Moon are my witness, if I were going to kill you, I should have done it long before. Will you look at me, and listen? Mar, can you help us?”
The touch of Mar's hand on his shoulder was like a rope to a drowning man, firm, stong, life-giving. ”Gun, I've I've told you Dhulyn Wolfshead wouldn't hurt you, and now told you Dhulyn Wolfshead wouldn't hurt you, and now she's she's told you. What more do you want than her own word?” told you. What more do you want than her own word?”
He looked from the Mercenary's face to Mar's and back again. Dhulyn Wolfshead raised one eyebrow and slowly blinked.
”What are you more afraid of,” she said. ”That I will will kill you, or that I won't?” kill you, or that I won't?”
Gundaron's lips parted, but no protest came out.
”Wolfshead!” It was Mar who spoke, a wrinkle forming between her deep blue eyes.
”Would you rather he wasn't wasn't bothered by what he's done?” the Wolfshead said, her voice calm as still water. bothered by what he's done?” the Wolfshead said, her voice calm as still water.
”But he's trying to help. The Tarkina and Bet-oTeb forgave him.” Mar spoke her next words to Dhulyn Wolfshead, but she looked at him when she spoke. ”I forgive him.”
”He hasn't forgiven himself.”
Heat burned through Gun's face and he lowered his eyes. Not that Dhulyn Wolfshead wasn't perfectly able to read him without looking into them. How did she do this? How did she know him so well?
”People are dead because of me,” he said. ”No amount of 'help' can bring them back.”
”Many have died at our hands also,” Parno Lionsmane's light voice fell softly into the air. ”And many are also alive because of us. You still live; you have time to make the second true for yourself as well.”
”You're not the first to do what he finds repulsive,” the Wolfshead said. ”And you won't be the last, blood knows, people being people. But you stopped the first chance you had, hold to that.” She shook her head, blood-red braids s.h.i.+vering. ”Words won't help you, at least not now. But I a.s.sure you, time will, if you let it.” She looked at Mar before turning her steel-gray gaze back to him. ”In the meantime, since you're sworn to help, I'd like to share a thought with you. I'm thinking that when something is lost, it's a Finder we need, not a Healer.”
”You might have thought of this before the Racha bird was sent,” Parno Lionsmane said, with just enough sarcasm in his tone to ease the tension in the air. ”We've no more a Finder than we have a Healer.”
”I think we do,” Dhulyn Wolfshead said. ”What do you think, Gundaron of Valdomar?”
”How-” Gun's throat closed. He would have said it was impossible, but he was sure he felt the blood drain from his face. He hadn't . . . How could could she know? Had she Seen? He shot a quick glance at Mar, but she was shaking her head. she know? Had she Seen? He shot a quick glance at Mar, but she was shaking her head.
”I didn't-” Mar subsided when the Wolfshead raised her hand.
”No one told me,” she said. ”Except you, yourself, when I thought about what you have done. Found doc.u.ments left carelessly aside for centuries. Found the secrets of tribes and cities lost for generations. When Marked were wanted, you Found them.” Dhulyn Wolfshead paused, tapped herself on the breastbone, causing tiny bells tied into the laces of her vest to chime. ”When a Seer was wanted, you Found her. You told Parno where to find the Green Shadow when it was in Lok-iKol-ah, you thought we'd forgotten that. Even now, you know where to Find the information that we need.”
”But that's research . . .” Gun let his protest trail away. He could not use that lie again-not even to himself.
The Mercenary was shaking her head. ”You forget, I've been trained as a Scholar myself, though it was not the life for me. I know how research is done, and the kinds of answers it produces. And how swiftly. And how many important answers in one person's lifetime. What you do is not research. Your books may have told you what what to look for, they couldn't have told you to look for, they couldn't have told you where where. You are Finding.” When Gun still hesitated, the Wolfshead went on, her voice rough but warm. ”Come now. The time for secrets is past.”
”I've never . . .” Gun took a deep breath. He'd never convince anyone unless he could speak clearly. ”I meant to tell you, after Lok-iKol, it's just . . . I've always kept it secret. I'm a Scholar. It's all I ever wanted. Even before the Jaldeans turned against the Marked, I never wanted to be . . .”
”Do you think I wanted it?” The Wolfshead was quiet but firm. ”Untrained and half useless as it is? The world is not what we want, but what we make make.” She paused, as if that word had some special significance for her, before continuing. ”I wish your world was was the Library carrels, the shelves of books, and the under-Scholars fetching ink and pens. Once I wished that for myself . . . I know how precious it is. But you are needed for more than that now. Wish for it or no, you will have to come out of your Library now and join the rest of us out here on the edge of the knife. the Library carrels, the shelves of books, and the under-Scholars fetching ink and pens. Once I wished that for myself . . . I know how precious it is. But you are needed for more than that now. Wish for it or no, you will have to come out of your Library now and join the rest of us out here on the edge of the knife.
”You are a Finder, Scholar Gundaron. I am a Seer. Neither of us wants this. But we are what we are.”
Gundaron hung his head, aware as if from a distance that he was shaking it ever so slightly, wanting to deny her words. But Dhulyn Wolfshead was right. He lifted his head and found the Mercenary's cool gray eyes ready to meet his. Next to her, leaning his hip against the table's edge stood her Partner, Parno Lionsmane, the left corner of his mouth lifted. Beside them sat Mar, her blue eyes darker than usual with concern. When his eyes found hers, she smiled, her face lighting as if from within, and for an instant his heart stopped beating as the breath caught in his throat.
He would have to come out into the world. But he wouldn't be alone.
”What do you want me to do?” he said. He'd thought his voice would shake, but it rang out firm and true.
”The Tarkin's mind is lost. I would like you to Find it.”
Gun's heart sank like a stone into a lake turning to ice. ”The Tarkin Tarkin? But how? I'm not trained trained. To Find something like that . . .”
”How did you Find the Green Shadow?”
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