Hunting Page 23

  "Sun." Reverent disbelief.

  "Exactly." Ash let out her breath, then settled herself on the comfortable cushion of his shoulder and slid her hand across his stomach, contrasting her pink and tan skin against his brown and bronze. "My name was Daere Ridenalt," she said, very cool and clear. "My father was Visel of Sirule, but he died a few years ago, and my mother's since remarried. She stays away from the Landsmeet, having never quite recovered her social credit after selling her twelve year-old daughter to the former Decsel Carlyon."

  The muscles she rested against turned to stone, but all Thornaster did was cover her hand with his and say: "Tell me."

  She did, unsparingly, including the fact that she thought Genevieve had killed Eward Carlyon in order to protect Ash, which was something she was unlikely to ever admit to anyone else.

  "It's not that I can't return to being Daere Ridenalt," she said, coming to the end of it. "But, putting aside how it will impact other people, I don't want that. I think because people will start treating me first and foremost as the girl forced to marry Eward Carlyon, a little like Lauren can't escape being the Black Carlyon's son. Sometimes I wonder if that's running away from myself, but–"

  "No, it makes sense. Though I have to say 'Daere' suits you immensely. And 'Ash' becomes a very macabre choice for a replacement." The calm of the words didn't match the reactions his body had transmitted, and he sat up so he could squeeze her tightly. "I hate that there's nothing I can do to help the girl you once were, but I can at least offer the simple solution of giving you my family's name. Ah, my name being–"

  "Morrion Estarrel," Ash said.

  A morrion was a thorn bush. Aster and Estarrel both meant star. And he'd said his first name was Rion. Combined with a sister called Aria, an older brother, and the Estarrel bloodline, it had seemed inescapable. Still, Ash hadn't been absolutely sure until he squeezed her tighter.

  "Yes – I've been entertaining myself thoroughly not being treated first and foremost as the Aremish Rhoi's younger son."

  "And making such a big deal about not being called a liar."

  "Oh, I expect I could make an argument for having done no more than shaded the truth," he said easily. "I am most certainly the Visel of Pembury – it was my mother's property. And mother is my father's second cousin. Even the name is almost true."

  "What rot."

  They laughed, and pushed away thoughts of the past, hurrying to dress in time to meet the Rhoi in a spacious, sunny receiving room, which seemed to Ash to be full of different places to sit, and a suspiciously large number of flowers.

  Rhoi Arun took one look at them and said: "So I'm to congratulate you?"

  "I'd say shout it from the rooftops, if not for the multiple complications of identity," Thornaster said. "As it is, we'll remain our current selves in Montmoth, and Ash will become Daere on the journey home. Perhaps we'll officially meet in Nyreem, since Hawk at least knows most of the story. He can usefully serve as our witness as well."

  Ash hesitated, then added: "I'd like Kiri to be here, if that's possible."

  Rhoi Arun nodded without any change of expression, and left the room to make arrangements. Ash took the opportunity to give Thornaster a dismayed glance because the Rhoi looked worn to a nub: the bones of his skull standing out, and his skin papery. Thornaster grimaced in response, then made a delaying gesture, so when the Rhoi returned Ash was occupied teasing Thornaster about her unfortunate lack of tabards in which to get married. Hawkmarten and Kiri arrived in short order, both not quite able to hide the same momentary shock when they saw the Rhoi, though they just as quickly suppressed it.

  "You could at least have the decency to look nervous, Thorn," Hawkmarten complained. "If not at the prospect of an eventful married life, then at the thought of Aria's reaction to being left out of your wedding."

  "Aria will get over it," Thornaster said cheerfully, then held out a hand. "Ready?"

  Ash gave Kiri a quick squeeze, then pushed several hateful memories aside and firmly returned his clasp. It took more effort than she would care to admit, but Thornaster's surface good humour was accompanied by a quiet comprehension. Seeing that, Ash was able to smile when the Rhoi produced a silver marriage cord and bound their hands together. Keeping her gaze on Thornaster-who-was-Morrion allowed Ash-who-was-Daere to say her name and simply be glad.

  Then Thornaster's smile faded, eyes widening, and Ash looked down to discover that the silver cord knotted around their joined hands had begun to glow with a pale, white light.

  "What–?"

  The light increased in intensity, until Ash had to shield her eyes with her free hand, but there was no pain. Instead she felt only a pleasant warmth as the glare faded, along with the cord, disappearing as if it had never been there, though a ghost of sensation remained. She lifted her eyes to Thornaster's and found an expression of such intense, incredulous joy that she smiled at him in wonder.

  "Astenar has joined our souls," he explained, voice wobbling. "It happens very rarely, even among the Estarrels. We were meant, Daere."

  Someone made an incoherent noise and she turned to find Heran and Lauren both standing in the furthest doorway, their faces mirrors of horrified disbelief.

  And then, beside her, the Rhoi quietly collapsed.

  Chapter Thirty

  "Dramatic, but actually a positive development," Thornaster said. "The power of the binding pushed back some of the imbalance Arun's been suffering. He's resting comfortably for the first time in days."

  "But he's still ill, yes?" Heran looked from Thornaster to Guardsman Farpatten for confirmation. "He kept saying it was just a cold, nothing serious, but he's not getting better is he?"

  "He won't, no, not until this is over."

  Thornaster surveyed the informal Council of War that had assembled in the receiving room following the Rhoi's collapse – Ash, Kiri and Hawkmarten, Lauren and Heran, Farpatten and Investigator Verel. The sumptuous arrangement of spring flowers that filled the centre of the main table made an incongruous focal point for the discussion.

  "If Montmoth's Balance remains as it currently stands, Arun faces a continual decline, probably over several years. It's very unlikely, however, that those involved in Karaelsur's rise will give up simply because the Vicardies have been exposed.

  "I think the initial plan must have been to replace the Rhoi with Setsel Vicardie, who would be bound to Karaelsur instead of Astenar. Karaelsur then could use the bond as a conduit to Luin's own strength. After that Karaelsur would most likely try to move against Astenar. I–" Thornaster grimaced. "I have no idea what the attitude of the further gods would be to such an event. But even if they returned to again cast Karaelsur out, the effect on Luin – and us – would not likely be minor."

  "So what's their next move?" Hawkmarten asked. "Direct attack?"

  "It's likely there will be more disappearances, a sudden increase." Thornaster glanced at Captain Farpatten and Investigator Verel. "A human life is a candle compared to the strength they would have gained from Luin, but I don't believe they're simply...feeding lives to Karaelsur. That would not explain the level of imbalance Arun is experiencing. They have some secondary plan, based upon that imbalance, and will work to increase it. The two obvious ways to do that are to take more lives for whatever purpose they are being used, and to kill Arun. Even if they can no longer replace him with their own tool, it may be sufficient for their purposes to ensure Montmoth does not have the protections of a Rhoi."

  "Heran will also be in immediate danger."

  It was the first time Lauren had spoken since he'd walked in on a wedding. Although he'd managed to resurrect his first seruilis' mask, giving his complete focus to the danger Montmoth faced, his eyes were unreadably dark and the livid bruise on his temple seemed to Ash to be a proclamation of damage she'd inadvertently inflicted. He was doing a better job than Heran at pretending Ash didn't exist.

  "A quick transition to a new Rhoi would not be in their interests," Thornaster agreed. "And on tha
t point, Ash, I heard you say yesterday that you didn't see Vicardie. Yet there's only one way in and out of that well room, and no obstructions beside the well."

  "I still don't see how he managed it – I kept my back to the wall until I was sure the room was empty."

  "This relates to the still-unanswered question of how those thar-spiders were brought into Arun's heavily-guarded quarters," Thornaster said. "Something that has sewn a great deal of distrust and concern among his household."

  "You're suggesting a mage at work?" Farpatten said.

  "If they imported one foreign mage, why not two? Or simply some invested enchantment? Those don't last long, but would be more than useful for specific tasks. Montmoth has so few mages that the usual negatives to using magic would hardly apply."

  "Mages can 'hear' magic," Verel explained. "And secure rooms can be warded to sound an alarm if magic is used within them. Something that is beyond my abilities, unfortunately, though there are a few exising wards in the palace."

  Thornaster nodded. "It would be best if you were detailed to the Rhoi's immediate Guard for the moment, Investigator," he said. "And for Veirhoi Heran to be kept elsewhere in the city – close enough to produce at short notice, but somewhere not easily found by our opponents."

  "I'll arrange that," Farpatten said, carefully not noticing the Veirhoi in question's expression.

  Thornaster then suggested Lauren go with Heran, and Hawkmarten stay watching over the Rhoi, which Ash thought a neat demonstration that Montmoth's deep-held fears had been realised, and an Aremish Visel had taken control of the Rhoimarch. But none of those present seemed inclined to object, and Thornaster moved on to Kiri, asking for her assistance in reviewing the maps of the city and the locations of the disappearances in hopes that she might make some connection that they had not.

  "Will every death in this city feed Karaelsur?" Kiri asked. "Or do they need to perform some form of ritual?"

  "If we reach the point where every death is going to Karaelsur, Montmoth will have been lost."

  On that note, Lauren and Heran were sent to collect their belongings, and the Guards' conversation turned to a discussion of precautions. Kiri extracted Ash to the far end of the room, sitting them at a smaller table frothing with cornflowers and laceweed.

  Kiri touched a delicate white floret. "There's a remarkable dissonance between the discussion and the occasion... I haven't even congratulated you yet, Daere."

  "Ash," Ash said. "I'll never be Daere again in Montmoth. Besides, after so long I tend to think of myself as Ash. I'm trying not to let myself call Thornaster 'Morrion', either – or even 'Rion'. At least not 'til it doesn't matter if I'm overheard. I'm glad you could be here, Kiri. I hope it wasn't too awkward."

  "Old insults aren't a high concern just now." Kiri glanced in the direction Rhoi Arun had been taken, then said: "May I?" and examined Ash's hand.

  "I can sort of see it," Ash said. "When I'm not looking directly at it."

  "And you're not happy about it."

  Kiri had always been able to read her.

  "No. Well, yes, on one level. Who doesn't like the idea of their marriage being affirmed in such a way? But I've read the stories. Jacian and Halide were bound this way – and when Halide died, so did Jacian. The next time I get tipped down a well, it's Thornaster I'll be killing."

  "You weren't planning to avoid that anyway?"

  "I always plan to avoid being tipped down wells. But I – you know what I'm like, Kiri. I climb and I ride straight at fences and I hardly ever stay back and keep out of things. How do I be me if every time I do that, it's not just my life I'm risking?"

  "You were always too devoted to Rommy to set him at fences beyond what he could jump. Has that changed?"

  "Of course not. Have you seen my grey? I'm not going to...stop laughing, Kiri."

  Kiri, eyes brimming with amusement, said: "Somehow I don't think you'll treat your husband much worse than your horse, Daere – Ash." She smiled at Thornaster as he came to join them. "My congratulations to you both."

  "I'm glad Daere could have a friend here." He pulled up a third chair, and took Ash's hand, putting business aside to briefly exchange pleasantries, but then said: "Sera Arpesial–"

  "Kiri."

  "Kiri. It seemed to me that when you asked about the need for a ritual that you had some other question in mind."

  "In a way. It was what you said about a human life being little more than a candle." Kiri's heavy lashes swept down. "If you light enough candles at once, they'll still make a bonfire."

  ooOoo

  It said something for Ash's wedding day that while her new husband spent his afternoon trying to boil a well, she found herself stuck in a lumbering coach opposite a young man who might as well have edited her out of existence, and a boy who had given up on a similar attempt to instead outright glare at her.

  Heran, having stewed over the revelation of breasts ever since the banquet, was overdue an opportunity to shout at her, but Ash merely smiled at him vaguely and sat apparently lost in thought. Alone, she could probably have made some progress with an affronted Veirhoi, but she was reluctant to have that conversation in front of Lauren. His wounds were too deep, and freshly exposed.

  Her presence in the coach at all was due to Farpatten. When she'd mentioned an intention to check in with her Huntsmen, the Guard Captain had suggested she travel down with the Veirhoi, putting the coach at her disposal for the return journey. For a moment Ash had suspected Thornaster of becoming immediately and excessively protective, but then realised this was a different impact of her marriage. Farpatten had reclassified her.

  The unhappy prospect of being a matter of consideration for a Rhoimarch's security detail kept Ash occupied during the short trip to the Lower Commons. And in Montmoth she was merely married to a foreign personage. What would it be like in Aremal? Ash knew she loved Thornaster, and would be spending a great deal of her time happily thinking back to what they had done together that morning. But she hadn't been able to predict all the consequences of marrying him, and was finding them increasingly difficult to swallow.

  The coach rumbled to a stop as Ash told herself for the tenth time that Thornaster and the possibility of horse races would likely make up for a reasonable amount of being guarded. She rubbed her left hand, which was tingling uncomfortably, then shivered as a chill ran down her spine.

  "Did it just get colder?"

  Heran's startled words were followed by an exclamation from Lauren, and the first seruilis drew his feet up and snatched at Heran as patterns of frost raced across the coach's floor. Ash hastily followed suit, the soles of her second-best pair of boots making a cracking noise. Balancing on the coach's seat, she reached for the nearest door, but pulled her hand back at the last moment as a filigree of ice and a strong desire to keep her fingers warned her off.

  "Kick it out!" Lauren ordered, and shifted to make good his own words, only to hastily grab for a firmer hold of the seat as the coach lurched into motion. The driver was shouting, urging the horses to greater speed.

  "He's sprung 'em!" Ash gasped, her breath misting.

  Everything bounced, and Heran and Lauren both tumbled to the floor, Lauren's rapier whipping against Ash's legs as he tried to avoid the frost. But already the unnatural cold had faded, breath no longer marking itself with mist, and the pair merely slid on melting ice.

  Being away from the cold did not necessarily mean they were out of danger, particularly if the driver continued to corner at a speed to make the coach slew and skip. Ash clung to her seat, trying to make sense of the noise outside, and hoping the coach wouldn't overturn. Was that pursuit, or simply Farpatten and the other Guard who'd been accompanying the coach on horseback?

  "Stay down, Heran," Lauren said, as the Veirhoi tried to haul himself upright. "Brace yourself, but try to be ready to move."

  They rounded another corner, and then raced breakneck along a downward slope, a circumstance that had Ash certain they were going to crack up at any
moment. But as they bounded onto flatter ground the pace dropped, and the driver began to haul up.

  Ash slid open the nearest screened window and made a cautious survey, then relaxed when she saw Farpatten still mounted. He caught her eye and made a belaying gesture, so she simply double-checked her knives were in easy reach, and waited till the coach came to a stop. Lauren and Heran picked themselves up, and Lauren drew the rapier that had added to their tangle.

  "I'm going to put 'inconvenient in bouncing coaches' down on the negative side of learning swordplay," Ash said, and was not in the least surprised when he ignored her.

  The glossy flank of Farpatten's bay blocked the window, and the Guardsman leaned down to glance inside. "Any injuries?"

  "No. What happened?"

  "You know almost as much as we, Ser Carlyon. We arrived at the safe house and the coach started to freeze. If Vishen had hesitated at all before driving on, I don't doubt we'd still be there." Farpatten glanced in the direction they'd come, and then restively at a dung-gather and a pair of riders who'd paused to stare. "There's been no sign of pursuit, but then we didn't see the attacker in the first place. Hold fast – we'll head to the nearest Watch House."

  "They knew where we were going," Heran said, as the coach began to move again. "We only decided on this less than two decems ago and they had time to set up an ambush with a mage powerful enough to kill the lot of us. What's to stop them from coming to this Watch House and doing exactly the same thing?"

  "Nothing," Lauren said crisply. "But I doubt we'll stay there long. It may be that we'll head out of the city altogether."

  "If they're moving this openly against me, what are they doing to Arun?" Heran asked, but then closed his mouth on any further questions and said instead: "Can I have one of those knives of yours, Lenthard?"

  "No."

  Heran might possibly have anticipated a refusal, but nothing so tersely flat. Momentarily stymied, he wavered, then snapped: "Just sit here and be protected, is that it?"