Hunting Page 26

  "I think it's the cold air. Though I'm glad for the excuse to not stand grimly watching any more." She summoned a smile, apologised to Lauren and Telat for interrupting the lesson, and then led her Huntsmen to a small bedroom at the back of the house.

  Once the door was firmly closed she began with: "There's something I've been meaning to let you three know," but then she trailed off. Last night, and most especially that morning, had left Ash keenly aware of important things which needed doing, but it was harder to make this particular shift than she'd anticipated.

  "Are you going to finally tell us you're really a girl?" Bitty asked, interestedly.

  "What?" Larkin sputtered.

  "And that you're having some kind of thing with this Thornaster person?" Melar added.

  "What?!" Larkin gaped around at them all, and then threw up his hands. "Why am I always the last to know?"

  "I had no idea you two had guessed," Ash said, immensely cheered.

  "Ash, if you were really a boy, I'd have made a play for you years ago," Melar said.

  "Same," Bitty added. "Don't tell Arras, though. She wouldn't take it well."

  "I won't! I'm staying Ash Lenthard while I'm in Montmoth – I just wanted to square this with you three. Though I'm obviously going to have to control my expressions if it took you less than a morning to spot the thing with Thornaster, Melar."

  She explained her future, though not her past, and accepted congratulations, then sat on the bed smiling as Melar and Bitty teased Larkin for failing to be observant. Her friends. She had underestimated them: after so many years they would never fail to support or cheer her. Nor were they afraid to boss her around, ordering her to get some rest, and threatening to tuck her in when she protested.

  And then she was being strangled. Frog knelt over her, his hands around her throat, and she struggled for breath enough to ask him why, how, and then, inevitably, he turned into Eward Carlyon, and she was trying to pull her hand away from him, desperately, but the marriage cord glowed icy black and sank beneath the skin of her hand.

  "Ash. Beloved. Wake up."

  The hand she was trying to pull away was simply tangled in the blanket. Thornaster, sitting on the side of the bed, gently smoothed the hair back from her forehead, and smiled when she finally focused on him.

  "You're very prone to nightmares, stripling."

  "I know. Look forward to years of being kicked to death."

  He seemed to find this an immensely romantic thing for her to say, but eventually drew back from kisses. "The timing involved in this is excessively frustrating. I came up to tell you they've finished with the roof, and are starting on the floor – using hooks and chains pulled by horses because it's not safe to work any closer to it."

  "What happens if the Cold Man escapes, or finding him doesn't change anything? A stalemate, with Karaelsur unable to gain more souls, but us not able to get rid of that thing?"

  "No." Thornaster curled his fingers through hers, and then held up their joined hands, staring at the glowing lines beneath the skin. "The people all around here are sick because it's feeding on them. It's growing stronger, and I have no idea how to stop it, and, Sun!, I wish I could run to my father."

  "So your father could stop it?"

  "I think so. The combination of Astenar's blood and the Rhoi's bond gives him a great deal of strength. And this is most certainly a matter of such importance that it would warrant him going outside Aremal's borders. But by the time he arrived it would most likely be beyond him, and all Montmoth frozen corpses."

  Ash shuddered because she kept seeing Frog, freshly taken out of the ground. Dirt griming all the small crevices of his face, and his mouth turned down.

  "I'm not liking myself because part of why I'm upset is I feel cheated," she said. "I suppose he would have been executed if we'd captured him, but at least we could have found out if there were mitigating circumstances. Could kismollen be involved? With the bodies frozen I couldn't check for any telltale blue. Or perhaps he was led by his father's ambition. I hate the idea that Frog might have done this because he thought Kiri was some sort of prize which came with the Rhoimarch."

  Thornaster squeezed her hand. "Arun asked your Kiri if she would be willing to spend the next few months acting as Setsel Ormsley's seruilis."

  "Truly? She agreed?"

  "She did. I promptly offered her sword lessons, for most obscure motives."

  Ash gasped, and tried to swallow laughter, which made her throat hurt rather more.

  "You don't give up, do you? I'd far rather watch you fight than learn a new weapon. They're not a sport to me, and anyway, right now I think I'd end up second-guessing myself more." She gestured at her throat. "I took Telat away from two boys, and I don't know if I was slower than usual, or one of the boys unusually fast, but there was a bad moment. Would having a sword instead of a staff have made a difference? Or would I have hesitated either way, because of this?"

  Ash held up their joined hands, turning it so that she could better see the knotted marriage cord, and decided that, again, this was not a conversation to put off.

  "Telat saved your life last night. And I'm...hanging back. I'm not used to that. Healthy caution, yes, but – I'm sorry, I know you feel this is a great blessing, but I can't help but wish Astenar hadn't done it. It's pulling me off-balance. Usually the only life I risk is my own."

  He had listened wordlessly, brows lifted in surprise. "You've never worried about leading your Huntsmen to their deaths?"

  "Of course. But I don't let them take undue risks. While I sometimes – when it's necessary – push further than I'd let them go. But it's not even that, it's ordinary things, things I shouldn't hesitate from. Knowing I could kill you is paralysing."

  "You're looking at it backward." He lifted their joined hands a little higher. "This isn't a sword at my throat, it's a safety rope. If I'm mortally injured, your life force will sustain me, giving me a much greater chance to recover. We'll both be less likely get ill – you'll benefit from my bloodline there, since Estarrels rarely sicken. The bond won't do much for a beheading, though, so try to avoid that."

  "Are you sure?"

  "About the beheading? Absolutely. The rest – it's been decades since the last known bonding, but the records are fairly clear on the subject. It's a little like a Rhoi's bond to the land, but the benefit is to each other."

  "Is that why I felt warmer when I held your hand back in that cellar?"

  "Possibly. I –" He stopped, staring at nothing, then said: "I'm an idiot."

  "Are you expecting me to agree with you? We've only been married a day. My opinion of you hasn't had a chance to drop that low."

  "Gratifying as the bond might be, Astenar doesn't do this as an affirmation of our choice. It's usually been in response to some larger danger. I thought it a means to keep those doing Astenar's will alive long enough to carry it out. But this is a bond like a Rhoi's. In its way, it's a conduit to Astenar. And Astenar's strength."

  Remembering the light that had accompanied the bonding, Ash looked at him unenthusiastically. "You're suggesting we should, what, try putting our hands in the soul-stealing goo?"

  He grimaced, then shrugged, and kissed her forehead lightly. "It's something we'll need to think about. But not yet – they must have found something about that building by now."

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Downstairs they found Hawkmarten talking to Farpatten.

  "Have you located the owner yet?" Thornaster asked.

  "Bringing her in now, Ser Visel." Farpatten replied. "There's been several layers of identity to sift through, but we think this is the last one."

  A murmur at the door warned of the arrival and they all turned as several tall Watchmen crowded in, bracketing a woman, holding herself very upright, her hair carefully coiled, but her skin waxen. Charity Dunn.

  Without Morton standing at her back she seemed small, and older somehow, and when she looked around the room she passed over Ash without any apparent recog
nition before she focused on Farpatten.

  "Are you in charge?" she asked, with an attempt at her usual honey-sweet condescension. "Truly, the Guard has abandoned courtesy altogether. What do you mean by dragging me here?"

  "I've been informed that you are Landhold of the house at sixteen Porter's Way. Is this true?"

  "Why, I could not say. I am a very wealthy woman. You cannot expect me to keep track of all my properties."

  "You had best remember quickly," Farpatten said. "We have unearthed over a dozen bodies there, and expect more. Do you have any knowledge of this?"

  Charity Dunn blinked rapidly, lost what little colour she had, then sagged. The Guardsman nearest her exclaimed and caught at her arm, managing to divert her into one of the sturdy kitchen chairs.

  "Landholder." Farpatten was unrelenting. "What do you know of these deaths?"

  "Nothing!" Charity Dunn shook her head over and again, as if that would prove her denial. "No. I am...I have...I am merely a name on paper. A favour for another."

  "Who?"

  "Decsel Pelandis."

  Farpatten grunted, then said to Thornaster. "The Firuvari girl's description was of white hair and white eyes. The Decsel, Tranor, is bedridden, but both his brothers and his son share his colouring – glass-pale blue eyes and platinum blonde hair. The lad's unlikely, but either Ryle or Keskedin are possibilities."

  "I've met both Ryle and Keskedin Pelandis," Thornaster said. "They showed no hint of the taint this would produce. How certain is it that Tranor Pelandis is as injured as is claimed? I was told he was unable to walk."

  "That's so, Ser Visel," Farpatten confirmed. "Though the family arranged for every form of care, including importing a healing mage, he had suffered so many crushing injuries that there was no hope of walking. Even living without constant pain is difficult. He is rarely in the city, but both his brothers are at the family residence in the Deirhoi District."

  "We'll start with them, then," Thornaster said.

  Ash was trying not to stare at Charity Dunn. This was a woman who had had no hesitation using her position to gain the most she possibly could from those who rented her properties. But the way she sat shrunken into herself felt somehow indecent.

  Since Ash lacked any means – or true desire – to ease Landhold Dunn's distress, she did her the simple courtesy of not gawping at her further. That was something Genevieve would have expected: to not gloat, or make a bad situation worse, but to do only the necessary things.

  Right now, the necessary thing was Decsel Pelandis. With him, perhaps this long hunt of false trails and innocent blood would come to an end.

  ooOoo

  Farpatten demonstrated his efficiency, reorganising his forces to leave the deconstruction adequately guarded, and arranging for others to meet him in the Deirhoi District and sweep down on the Pelandis estate. He was taking no chances.

  Ash, keyed up for battle, found herself instead standing with Lauren Carlyon, listening to a highly confused family trying to satisfy the small army which had come knocking at their door. No, they knew nothing of any property in the Rockways, or of a Landhold Dunn. The Decsel was at Rimmary, the Pelandis' Decselry, and had been since the previous autumn. No, they had no objection to the Guard questioning other members of the household, if that's what it took to clear them of whatever accusation had been laid.

  "If this is just another false trail, I think I might start shouting," Ash murmured, drifting back into the entry hall with Lauren.

  "This Dunn woman may have lied. Or been lied to. If Ryle and Keskedin are lying, then questioning the household will expose the truth." He glanced back to where the extensive Pelandis family stood clustered protectively together before the mass of Guard and Watch. "They do appear very convincingly confused."

  "Though you notice a lot of them also seem to be ill? And look at Thornaster."

  Her Aremish Visel stood to one side, brows drawn together as he listened, as if he were trying to hear something over the conversation before him. While the Guard began rounding up all the occupants of the sprawling manor estate – not a small task given the multiple outbuildings and several towers – he joined Ash and Lauren and said, "Let's look around."

  "You can feel him?"

  "I feel something. But I've been sporadically feeling taint all over the city. If he's here, getting closer should be enough."

  They toured the manor's lowest floor, and then decided on a quick walk among the outbuildings before tackling the convoluted upper floors.

  "No, I don't want to go in! I just want to talk to whoever's in charge."

  "That's Garet Pelandis," Lauren said, and they crossed quickly to the estate's gate.

  "Carlyon! Thank the Sun." The jittery boy in the black and white tabard of Decsel Donderry pulled free of the restraining grip of a Watchman. "Come out here where we can't be seen."

  "My orders–" the Watchman began, but accepted a belaying gesture, instead sending his partner off with a message for Farpatten.

  Lauren followed the younger boy out onto the street, despite the crowds of highly interested onlookers. "Garet, are you – do you know where your father is?"

  "Dead, I think. I can't be sure. I haven't seen him in months." The boy's words were soft and rapid, and he glanced constantly at the estate's gate. "So it wasn't me, after all. I knew it. I knew it."

  "Start from the beginning, Garet," Carlyon ordered crisply. "What's been happening here?"

  "I can't be sure. They said I was wrong. I've been serving Decsel Donderry as seruilis for two years, and I'd check in on my free days, and for family things, but everything seemed normal. It was only when I was given leave to winter at Rimmary and...I'm sure my father wasn't there. Usually, though it's difficult for him, he will host the midwinter feast. I thought he must be worse, and I wanted to see him, but they'd turn me around every time and it was never 'no', it was always 'not right now' and then winter was over and I still hadn't seen him and they all just go on as if everything's normal, and–"

  "Take a breath, Garet." Carlyon rested his hand on the boy's back and waited until he'd obeyed. "Is it simply that you haven't seen your father, or have you noticed anything specific?"

  "Count the towers," the boy said. "Then ask one of them how many towers the house has. They locked the door and put a tapestry over it, and act like I'm mad for asking why. The whole lot of them, there's something wrong with them."

  The main building sported four towers. Or three, according to every member of the Pelandis household asked, even when brought to a newly-detapestried door and asked for the key.

  "There was a lot of kismollen growing in that garden," Ash said, watching Farpatten's face as yet another Pelandis failed to acknowledge the door even when he pointed directly at it. "If someone's been dosing this entire household since before last winter, then I'm not surprised they're sick. I'm more surprised they're alive."

  "Can they be treated?" Lauren asked.

  "Genevieve's Herbal only mentions a fatal level of toxicity." Ash brushed her hand against Thornaster's. "But it wasn't kismollen he used on Telat, so maybe he's able to control them without it. He's up there, isn't he?"

  "Yes." Thornaster stopped staring at the ceiling. "It may be wise to avoid meeting his eyes. Let's do this, Captain."

  While the door was broken down, they discussed the ground ahead, and the merits of speed over caution. Garet, though he'd refused to come into the building, had described a wide, square tower topped by a comfortable bedroom. Thornaster, with the partial protection of his blood, would take lead, bracketed by Guardsmen furnished with crossbows and strict orders to fire at the first sign of sudden frosts. And to keep their eyes on the Cold Man's feet. Farpatten, Ash and Lauren would follow the initial rush.

  The need to better understand the cellar in the Rockways – and some consideration for the process of law – meant they would try talking first. Remembering all too well the filigree of frost spreading over the coach's interior, Ash shut down how she felt about this
confrontation, and concentrated on keeping herself alert for any sign of danger.

  No traps, no resistance, just terse words from those ahead of her. The door at the top of the stair was closed but not locked, and Ash was close enough behind to be able to see inside when Thornaster opened it.

  Her first impression was of light, pouring through windows formed from many panes of glass. A small bed and a desk were the main items of furniture, and the only occupant of the room sat in a high-backed chair by one of the windows. Unmistakably of the Pelandis family, he looked completely relaxed, one foot neatly crossed over the other, and a glass in his hand.

  "No need to stand on ceremony. Come right in."

  Something about the amused voice struck Ash in a way she didn't expect, and she had to stop herself from backing a step. Light and pleasant, it wasn't familiar, but it set her heart racing.

  "How may I help you Sers?"

  "Decsel Pelandis?" Farpatten asked.

  "So it would seem. And let me see, you three are obviously part of the Rhoi's collection of babysitters, and the rangy fellow in the dress would be his Aremish nanny. Who's that behind you? Lauren, lad! What are you doing running around with this collection of jackanapes?"

  Lauren, rather naturally startled, paused then said firmly: "A young girl asked me to make certain that the one she calls the Cold Man could never capture her again."

  "Skirt-chasing, are you? Well, I suppose you're an age for it. So that's what happened to that little piece. A waste. She would have done a great deal for my cause; the power simply roiled off her."

  Attempting to regain some control of the conversation, Farpatten said: "You do not deny, then, that you have committed treason against the Rhoi, and heretical acts which have cost the lives of Montmothian citizens?"

  "Heretical acts? For that I would need to concede that Astenar has some right to dictate how we live. All life on Luin owes its existence to Karaelsur. I'm not afraid to serve the true Sun."

  "You've broken Luin's laws, as well," Thornaster said. "And whatever you thought to gain from Karaelsur, it is Astenar and Luin you will face."