“The rivalry between Habadra and Shakiri has escalated in the past year,” Viyelle said. “It's gone beyond who can throw the best party to duels in the streets. And it's spilling over into other Lines. They're beginning to take sides. There are still quite a few neutrals, but I gather that they're beginning to have trouble maintaining their neutrality."
“How did you learn all that at a party?” Stone demanded.
“I listen. I ask questions. People talk."
“I listened. I was listening to you ask questions,” Stone said. “All I learned was that these women have a fascination with blond hair."
“Red hair too.” Torchay shifted. “And they like to pinch."
“I talked to the Habadra,” Aisse said. “Fox and I."
“And?” Kallista leaned forward, as did Stone.
“She was curious. She wanted to know which was Merinda's husband, and seemed very interested when we pointed Stone out."
“When she realized I was blind,” Fox said, “she pretended I wasn't there.” They had decided to conceal Fox's magical
knowing
sense, to let him play blind man until the moment came when they could gain advantage by revealing it.
“The flawed are hidden away,” Obed said. “The blind and the lamed, the simple-minded."
“All of that fits you, Fox,” Stone said. Fox merely clouted him again. Everyone else ignored him. They'd learned by now that Stone used the jokes and teasing to ease his worries.
“That way,” Obed went on, “the rest of Daryath can pretend they do not exist. Things
appear
to be perfect."
Obed paused, and blinked as if struck by a thought. “In Daryath,” he said slowly, “appearance is more important than truth. What a thing
is
does not matter so much as what a thing can be made to
seem
. They give voice to the ideals, but in reality, they do as they please, as long as they
seem
to be obeying the Law. Even the ambassador has said so, just now. Do not trust, but seem to trust."
“Which makes me wonder about demons,” Joh said. “Much of the Barbs’ philosophy involved seeming to be one thing in order to conceal the truth."
“Fox?” Kallista looked down the table at her blind Tibran.
His bright gold curls were pulled back into a tight queue falling between his shoulder blades. It would take years before it reached the length of Joh's glossy, waist-length braid, but he seemed determined to grow it that long.
“I didn't see anyone who looked wrong in that way,” Fox said. “But I can't tell if anyone is demon-ridden
now
. Only if they have been in the past."
“So if the demon is here, it's not changing horses—so to speak.” Kallista drummed her fingers on the table.
“Do you have any doubt that it's here?” Joh asked.
“Actually, no. I agree with you, Joh. Too much here
feels
like demons.” She snagged another meat bun off the tray. “Speaking of which, is Gweric still out?"
“He's just come in,” Leyja said from near the door. “Do you want to see him?"
“Yes. Send for more drinks. He'll be thirsty."
Gweric entered the large airy room, his bodyguard joining the others atthe room's perimeter. Gweric's hair—blond like the rest ofthe Tibrans—stood on end, sticking out in all directions due to the sweat that matted it. He collapsed onto the chair Namida Ambassador had abandoned. He drained the cup of water Kallista handed him, poured another, drank it and poured a third cup of fruit-flavored liquid to sip at.
“Saints, it's hot out there.” He blew out a gusting breath.
“You should have come back sooner,” Viyelle scolded.
Before Viyelle had been marked and married into the ilian, she and Gweric had had a brief “fling.” After some adjustment—Gweric had been more upset over not being marked by the One than losing a lover—they had settled into a sedili sort of relationship, with Viyelle as the overprotective older sedil.
“I meant to,” Gweric was saying. “But I didn't realize how far I'd walked or how far it was to get back.” He stole a bun off Kallista's tray and bit in.
Kallista slid the tray closer to him. “What did you find?"
Gweric's magic involved sight. An odd thing since his eyes had been taken by the demon-ruled Tibran Rulers when they'd made him one of their Witch Hounds, a magic-user forced to use his magic to spy out others with forbidden magic gifts. Without his eyes, all Gweric could see was magic, demons and—sometimes—the future. His bodyguard had a small gift of magic, of striking true with weapons, which enabled him to serve as Gweric's guide when necessary, since the young man could see him.
“There is demon taint all across the city,” Gweric said. Everyone sat up straight at this news. “The shadows and stink are everywhere."
“Is it stronger in any quarter than another?” Kallista asked. “Can you track it to its source?"
Gweric shook his head. “Not where I was today. It's too pervasive. Still, I barely covered a tenth of the city. If that much. Maybe it'll be different in another quadrant.
You
might be able to track it, but—I just don't know. There's so much of it."
“Damn.” Kallista rubbed her hand across her mouth, trying to think.
“Kallista. Reinine.” Gweric's use of her title had Kallista's head jerking up. Her attention arrowed in.
“I think there is more than one of them,” he said.
Chapter Six
Kallista stifled her oath. “How many?” “I don't know,” Gweric said. “More than one.” “Seven?” Joh asked. Seven demons had stirred up the rebellion that had ended with Kallista being selected as Reinine.
"I don't know,"
Gweric repeated. “There is enough demonshadow for seven. Or perhaps just one or two very powerful, very evil demons. I can't tell more than that.” “One or two
more,
” Kallista said to clarify. “More than Khoriseth.” Gweric nodded. He shoved the tray of buns away. “Suddenly I'm not hungry.” “I'll send the magic out tonight,” Kallista decided. “At the regular time, so it—so
they
don't suspect anything out of the ordinary. I hope. I'll see if I can count them.” The door leading to the nursery opened and Niona peeped through, a mischievous grin on her face. Kallista grinned back and gestured her in. “Looks like quiet time is over,” she said. “Playtime now. Magic practice after dinner.” Children flowed into the room, every one of them finding a lap. Only Stone somehow sat alone, too far around the table for the impatient little ones to reach. Kallista met his eyes over Viyelle and Joh's little Sharra in her lap, and her heart nearly broke at his wistful smile. Then Rozite gave up her attempts to wheedle Leyja in favor of pouncing on her Papi, and his attention turned to his daughter. The One willing, they would have their lost son home soon.
* * * *
Night fell quickly in Daryath, a blanket of darkness floating gently down over the city to offer respite from the fierce sun. Kallista sent everyone off in their designated pairs not long after dinner because she wanted to practice calling magic at a distance and to practice the dark veil. She'd even insisted that Torchay, Obed and Leyja retreat to other rooms, though she had to accept Keldrey's presence beside her army-assigned bodyguards when they all threw fits about her being insufficiently guarded.
The demon-destroying magic came to her hand as easily as if they had all been standing next to her. But once she had called it, she didn't quite know what to do with it, given that they didn't know where or how many the demons were. So there she stood, in the middle of the embassy's private garden courtyard with her hands full of magic and nowhere to send it.
She certainly didn't want to kill anything but demons with it, not even grass, as she'd once done while practicing on the Adaran plains. Daryath didn't have enough vegetation to be able to spare any. Nor did she want to put anyone to sleep, which the dark magic could also do. She needed everyone alert and aware.
In addition to all the other considerations, Kallista did not want to alert the demons to her intent, if they did not already fear that she had come to destroy them. She twisted the magic into multi-flavored strands and amused herself by braiding and weaving it into pretty designs while she tried to think what to do with it. She'd tried once to use the magic to
teach,
but in the confusion of the Barbs’ rebellion, had no way to discover whether it worked as intended. She could put the magic back, but that defeated the purpose, didn't it?
Shouts in the street came over the walls of the courtyard.
“What is that?” Kallista found Keldrey in the shadows.
He passed a hand signal to a guard near the gate who trotted off, returning a few moments later. The young soldier snapped to attention. “Fighting, my Reinine. In the street outside. The captain stationed with the embassy says it's likely duels between competing Lines. Might be a few Sameric clerics as well. They don't like Adarans on principle, the captain says."
“Thank you.” Kallista smiled and the soldier blushed. Goddess, they got younger every year. She sent him back to his post.
But his report gave her an idea. “Peace,” she whispered to the magic. “Calm. Good sense."
She willed those things into the magic and drew a bit more of Stone's joy to add ... because. A little calm good sense would benefit everyone, even those standing watch. Could she do this? She'd never tried it before, had no idea what might happen. Surely nothing bad, not with peace and good sense willed into it. She gave the magic a metaphysical kiss and threw her hands wide, setting it free.
It burst in all directions at once, no dark veil this, though it carried the same power. The Godstruck magic was pure magic, its purpose willed into it by the naitan who called it. It glowed, a pearlescent shine of all colors and none. And as it flashed from her, so quickly it seemed a trick of the moonlight,
through
the walls and into the streets, the shouting faded and then ceased.
A long moment after the magic passed them by, the guards around the walls protecting the embassy let out a breath, or perhaps took one in, a sort of gasping sigh. Keldrey blinked at her, as if dazed.
“Are you all right?” Kallista reached him in three paces, took his arm.
Keldrey put his other arm around her, bringing her into a close, casual-seeming embrace. “Better than all right.” He shook his head. “I feel ... blessed. Like the One just stooped down and gave me a kiss. The magic?"
Now Kallista blinked. She hadn't known the magic could do such a thing. “It must have been. Why didn't I feel it?"
“Maybe because that's what you feel every time you call it?” Keldrey gave her a brief, tight squeeze, but didn't let go.
Kallista slid her arm around his solid, stocky body, wishing she could give him a kiss of her own. She had come to love this rough and steady man, and she didn't like pretending otherwise. And she felt even more guilty for failing to practice the magic over the past years, to experiment with what it might do. To use it as she could have. As she should have. She could have—blessed—all of Adara with the good things of the One.
And given Keldrey a taste of what the godmarked had.
She stretched up and pressed a kiss to his temple, catching the barest stubbled edge of his shaved head. “I miss you."
Keldrey chuckled and moved aside. “Yeah. Me too. You done tonight?"
“For now, I suppose.” Kallista let him go, trying not to show the reluctance she felt.
“The little ones'll be wanting their kisses and stories."
Kallista smiled. “Trust you to remind me of what's important."
“We're all important.” He grinned and winked. “But right now, it's their turn."
When the younger set were finally quieted—the magic seemed to have energized rather than calmed them—Kallista was as ready for sleep as they were. It had been a long day. But she had yet to send her magic out hunting demons.
Yawning, she headed back toward the courtyard with Obed and Torchay trailing behind her. At the wide doorway leading out, she paused and caught hold of the gauzy, breeze-blown draperies. Someone already occupied the courtyard.
“What's wrong?” Torchay stepped up beside her, nostrils flaring as if he sniffed for trouble.
“Nothing. Stone.” Kallista touched Torchay's hand, caught Obed's eye. “Wait here. Please."
Torchay nodded, acquiesced. Obed frowned, opened his mouth as if to speak, then nodded without speaking. Kallista smiled and squeezed his hand in apology, though she didn't know what she apologized for, and went out into the flower-scented night.
Stone stood, one foot propped on the fountain's basin, breaking bits of twig into tinier bits and tossing them into the water. Kallista put her arms around him from behind and leaned her head on his shoulder. He wasn't much taller than she, so it was a comfortable fit.
“Should you be doing that?” He laid a hand over hers where she'd clasped them at his waist, tossing the rest of his twigs away all at once in a faint patter on the paving.
“Probably not, but I don't care. It's dark.” She kissed the rose-mark on the nape of his neck beneath the soft gold hair he kept cropped when he remembered to do it. Just now, it curled almost to his collar.
His laugh was bitter. “We're standing in the light of a full moon. Not so very dark at all, with Daryathi servants around to see us.” Stone peeled himself out of her embrace.
He kept his hold on her hands, as if afraid of what she might do with them, and turned to face her, gazing solemnly down at her. “I don't want to care either,” he said. “But we have to. I want my son back. We can't give them any excuse."
“We all want him.” Kallista led him by the hand to a wood-andiron bench that sat beneath a delicate, multi-trunked tree exploding with hot pink flower clusters. They had no scent to mingle with the honeysuckle, their color dimmed in the night. As she sat with him, crinkled petals drifted down to settle in their hair. “Are you so sure he's
your
son?” She had to say it.
“Does it matter?” Stone brushed the petals off his head.
“I don't know. Does it?” She hid their joined hands in the shadows between them, reluctant to let him go.