Raven's Shadow (25 page)

“Now,” he said with a deliberately engaging grin. “Come join me for the feast and drink or two—and I'll do my best to be entertaining.” Lute in hand, he jumped off the high stage, away from the wizards, and led the horde to an invasion of the bar in the back of the room.

It was almost dark when Jes got back to the farm.

Gura greeted him from the porch and Jes ruffled his fingers through the wiry hair. The Guardian had been demanding today; Jes was tired and his head hurt. He tried not noticing that there was something wrong because he didn't know if he could keep the Guardian under control this time if there was.

Rinnie hadn't come out when Gura barked.

The Guardian also knew he was tired, and he was willing to wait until they knew for certain. So it was Jes who walked to the back of the cabin and saw that Rinnie had done a few hours' worth of work before putting her tools away where they belonged.

Had Rinnie grown impatient and set out after Mother and Lehr? He didn't think so, especially since she'd left Gura here. He followed Mother and Lehr's tracks to the woods, but he couldn't see anything that indicated Rinnie had come here today. The ground around the cabin was too packed-down for him to follow a trail there.

Reluctantly he gave way to the Guardian.

He shouldn't have stayed so long watching the new temple, thought the Guardian unhappily. But he'd never seen anything like the taint that spread from the temple through Redern.
He'd been worried about Hennea; the forest king had made him responsible for her safety, and there was nothing safe about the temple. The
geas
that bound her made it impossible for him to stop her from going in, but he'd stayed and fretted over it until Jes had convinced him that Mother would know what to do about it.

In wolf form, the Guardian looked for Rinnie's scent along the edge of the forest, but Jes had been right. She hadn't followed Mother.

He went back to the cabin. Gura flattened himself submissively, but the Guardian ignored him. Gura shouldn't have let Rinnie go off alone. Dogs did not make good guards—they were taught to obey the commands of the people they guarded.

Rinnie's scent was here, but it was difficult to pick out one trail from another. He needed Lehr for this kind of job. He lifted his head from the porch step and cast an irritated glance toward the forest; judging by the time Hennea had taken to get from the village to the place where something had happened to Papa, Mother and Lehr should have been back by now. As he turned his head he caught a whiff of an odd scent.

What had Bandor been doing at the farm?

He seldom visited his aunt—both the Guardian and Jes found the village distressful. There were too many people for Jes, and he got confused by their unguarded emotions. To the Guardian, there were too many possible threats. Even so, he knew Bandor's scent of yeast, salt, and soap.

The sound of rapid footsteps made him blend into the side of the porch so that he remained unseen. The wind was coming from the wrong direction, so he couldn't tell who it was until Hennea came out in the open.

One sleeve was burned away and blisters started at her fingertips and trailed up fire-blackened flesh to her shoulder. She slowed to a walk, staggering slightly as she came in sight of the cabin.

“Seraph,” she said. “Jes, are you here?”

The Guardian shook with the implied violence of her condition, even though Jes tried to soothe him with the observation that she might have done the damage to herself because the hurt was concentrated on the wrist the
geas
band had been
on. Hennea smelled of anger, fear, and pain, and Jes was tired. The beast snarled silently.

Hennea gasped slightly, and the Guardian knew that she felt the dread of his anger.

“Jes,” she said, closing in on the cabin. “Jes, I need to talk to you. There's none here to harm anyone. Please. I need to talk to you.”

A tear slid down her face, and she wiped it away impatiently. “Please. I need your help.”

If the forest king hadn't given her to him, the Guardian could have ignored her; but she was one of his now. So he slunk away from the porch and let her see him clearly, though Jes would rather have resumed his usual form because he didn't want to frighten her anymore than she already was. Jes liked Hennea.

“Jes,” she said, unfazed by the monstrous wolf that stalked toward her. “Guardian. I'm so sorry. I've betrayed you all. I don't know what he's planned, but it's my fault.”

It was difficult to get human speech out of his wolf throat, but the Guardian managed. “Who?”

“He planned it,” she said, holding her burnt arm awkwardly away from her body. “I thought I was so clever, figuring out that he was playing a game with your family—but his game was more subtle than I expected. He set me up, all but sent me out to find Seraph and tell her that I thought your father hadn't been killed. He
knew
that she'd go and take Lehr. He knew Rinnie would be left here unprotected. He didn't care about you, he doesn't know what you are. But he wants Rinnie.”

Jes helped the Guardian cool his rage, and the beast welcomed the calm that would allow him to accomplish what was necessary.

“He has her?” he asked.

“Not when I left—I thought I might beat him here—but she's gone, isn't she? That's why you're here and not Jes.”

“My uncle was here,” the Guardian said. “Bandor, the village baker.”

“Lark take them all,” she whispered. “Bandor is one of Volis's favorites. Would he turn your sister over to Volis?”

“He wouldn't hurt her knowingly,” said the Guardian after
a moment. “But his intentions are not important.” Since Jes controlled his savagery, the Guardian was able to think clearly again and focus his purpose. “We need to find them. Can you run?”

 

Lehr was right, it was late when they reached Redern, and Seraph was exhausted, both emotionally and physically. Only her obsessive need to force answers out of the
solsenti
priest gave her the fortitude to start up the steep street of Redern.

She almost walked right past the bakery. If there hadn't been a light in Alinath's room, she might have been able to do it. Alinath loved Tier, too. Seraph hesitated outside the door.

“She won't believe you, Mother,” offered Lehr.

“Yes,” said Seraph, “she will—because she needs to believe it as much as I did.” She gave Lehr a tired smile. “She'll still think it is my fault—but at least she won't think he's dead. She has the right to know.”

Seraph knocked briskly at the door. “Alinath, it's Seraph, open up.” She waited, and then knocked again. “Alinath? Bandor?”

Lehr tested the air, “I smell blood. Is the door locked?”

Seraph tried the latch and the door swung open easily. There was no light in the front room, nor the bakery, but Lehr didn't need light and she followed him to Alinath's room. The door was ajar and Lehr opened it cautiously.

“Aunt Alinath?” he said, and the concern in his voice sent Seraph ducking under the arm he held the door open with.

Alinath was gagged and bound hand and foot on her bed. Her face was bruised; someone had hit her cheek and split the skin, which had bled copiously all over the bedding. When she saw them she began struggling furiously.

“Shh,” said Seraph, sitting beside Alinath. She took out her knife and carefully slid it around swollen flesh to cut the ropes. “I'll have you free in a moment.”

“Rinnie,” said Alinath as soon as the gag dropped from her mouth.

“What?” asked Seraph.

But Alinath had begun to shake and Seraph couldn't understand what she was saying.

“Slow down,” she said, keeping her voice calm so she didn't
upset Alinath further. “What about Bandor and Rinnie? Did Bandor do this to you?”

Alinath tried to sit up, but it was obviously painful and Seraph hurried to help support her.

“It was Bandor,” Alinath said, breathing shallowly around sore ribs. “He's gotten so strange lately—I don't know what's wrong with him. This afternoon, after the priest came, he started muttering about Rinnie and you.”

She stopped and swallowed. “You and I have never seen eye to eye, Seraph—but you'd die to protect your children. I know that. So when he started saying dangerous things . . . things that would get the whole village riled up if they heard . . . Well, I told him he was a fool. That there was nothing evil about you, and he had no call to accuse you of being shadowed.”

Seraph's stomach clenched.

Alinath turned her head away. “He hit me. He's done that a couple of times in the past month. I'm not saying I'm the easiest person to live with, but . . .
you
know Bandor; he was never like that.”

“Go on,” said Seraph.

“This time, it was more than a casual slap. I didn't know if he was going to stop. Ellevanal help me, I don't think he did either. Then he muttered a bit more and said something about not needing my interference. He tied me up and left. Seraph, I don't know what he's gone to do.”

“He started after the priest left? Volis, not Karadoc?” asked Seraph.

Alinath nodded. “I don't like that man. Did Bandor go out to the farm?”

“Did he say that was what he was going to do?” asked Seraph.

“He said that he was going to save Rinnie.”

“We haven't been there since early this afternoon,” said Seraph. “I left her with Gura, but Gura knows Bandor. I have to go find her. Will you be all right here?”

Alinath nodded. “Find him before he hurts her,” she said.

“Where would he take Rinnie,” said Lehr, “if he didn't come back here?”

“The priest,” said Seraph. “If he thought she was shadowed
he'd take her to the priest. We'll find them,” she told Alinath.

“Be careful,” said Tier's sister. “Be careful, Seraph. Bandor's not the man you know.”

 

Outside the bakery, Seraph frowned in indecision; go to the temple or all the way out to the farm?

“Can you tell if Bandor and Rinnie came by here?” she asked Lehr.

He shook his head. “Not even if it were full noon—there's too much . . .” He stiffened and looked around.

Seraph felt it, too, a cold chill fluttering down her spine and a lump in her throat that made it hard to swallow.

“Jes,” she called. “Are you here?”

“Listen,” said Lehr. “Someone's riding a horse up the road.”

She saw Skew first, his white spots clearly visible in the starlight as he leapfrogged up the steep corner, hooves slipping and sliding. As soon as he was on the more level part of the road he broke into a smooth trot and stopped in front of her.

“The priest,” said Hennea tightly, sliding off the horse. “I was a fool. He sent me to get you to leave your daughter unprotected.”

Seraph nodded. “I've come to that conclusion myself. Do you think they'd take her to the temple?”

“Yes.”

“We'll leave Skew here,” said Seraph. “He'll lose his footing on the cobbles in the steep parts. Lehr, can you find some place to secure him?”

“There'll be space by the woodshed,” he said and took the horse.

Hennea stood a little crookedly, as if she were in pain. Seraph called a magelight and took a good look at Hennea's burnt arm.

“There are easier ways to break a
geas,
” she said dryly.

“I was in a hurry,” replied Hennea, her lips curving in a pale smile. “And I was angry.”

“That's going to hurt,” observed Seraph.

“It already does. I'm not going to be much help in any kind of fight; my concentration is gone. I can feed your magic, though.”

“Good enough,” Seraph said.

Lehr came back and Seraph turned and started up the road at a rapid walk. Jes and Lehr could probably run all the way to the temple, but she and Hennea would have to take it slower or they wouldn't be any good when they got there. She knew that Jes was with them by the clenching of her stomach, but she only caught a glimpse of him now and again out of the corner of her eye.

“Tell me about Volis,” said Seraph. “Whatever you think will be useful.”

“He's smarter than I thought he was, obviously. The other mages in the Secret Path respected his power—but he's young by
solsenti
standards and complex spells frustrate him. Because of that, he tends to use the Raven ring more than his own magic unless he's weaving an illusion.”

They came to a steep bend in the road, and Hennea quit speaking until they were on flatter ground. “I told you that the wizards steal Orders and wear them. Usually as rings, but there are some stones set in earrings and necklaces. He told me that some of the rings are painful to use, and some of them don't work all the time. Most of the wizards can only use one ring at a time, but Volis has two he uses. The first one bears the Order of the Raven. With it he usually has an Owl, though I've seen him with a Hunter's ring a time or two as well. You'll know which one he wears when you see him, just
look.
”

“How well does he bear the Orders?”

“About as you'd think,” she said. “He seems to believe the Raven Order is just like his magic, except that he doesn't have to use rituals.”

Seraph smiled in satisfaction. “Tell me, does he have a bad temper?”

 

As they got closer to the temple, Lehr stopped and bent down as if to touch the ground, but he pulled his hand back before it touched.

“What's this, Mother?” he asked.

“What?” Seraph stopped, too, but she didn't see anything.

“A taint,” said Jes. He must have been close to Hennea because she gave a nervous squeak.

“What does it look like?”

“It looks as if a foul substance was spilled over the ground,” said Lehr. “It smells bad, too.”

“Shadowed,” said Hennea in a small voice. “I'd wondered.”

“It comes from the temple,” said Jes. “It's darker there.”

“It's really there?” asked Lehr. “Why can't you see it, Mother?”