When consciousness returned, Deirdre found her eyes filled with tears. It was always like this after repossession. At least she'd learned not to sob.
She was lying on a thick carpet, her head resting on a pillow, her body covered by a blanket. Beside her a low hexagonal table held a kettle and a small metal cup of steaming mint tea. Other pillows lay around the table.
She rubbed the tear tracks from her cheeks and sat up. The wide room was bright and airy. Beyond the furniture stood ornate redwood screens. Late afternoon sunlight spilled through the screens in the shape of their geometric latticework. A cold breeze brought the scent of redwoods and the distant ocean.
The Savanna Walker had brought her to the top of the sanctuary, to what had been the canonist's quarters but now was Typhon's. Deirdre's last clear memory was of shoving Francesca from the kite. After that, everything was blurry sky and an ecstatic heat.
After catching her breath, Deirdre noticed a break in the screens that revealed a wide balcony and a view of Avel's winding avenues and the wind-tossed savanna. Gingerly, she stood and discovered that she now wore a blue silk blouse and a white longvest threaded with gold. Once again Typhon had dressed her up as a Spirish noble, an officer of the canonist's court.
At times Deirdre enjoyed this outfit; the white longvest contrasted nicely with her dark skin. More often she was vexed that Typhon insisted on costuming her like a doll. The demon had planted his worshipers within Cala's court and compelled her to help them play the nobility's political games ⦠games Deirdre had once played for Boann a lifetime ago, when she had been a Dralish noble in the city of Highland.
For the past decade, Typhon had compelled her to become his Regent of Spies, to help renew the network of demon worshipers that Fellwroth had devastated when he usurped the demon's control of the Disjunction. Presently, most of Avel's powerful citizensâmilitary commanders, merchants, bankers, even clergyâwere sworn to Typhon. Without their help, he would never have enslaved Cala. The demon made Deirdre use her political
savvy to manipulate Avel's pliable nobles and her strength to assassinate the resistant.
But after years of preparation, Deirdre had put a plan in motion to escape the demon. A bloom of hope made her smile until she wondered if she'd pushed her luck too far.
She'd convinced the demon that she had been converted, that she was devoted to the Disjunction. As such, the demon had ceased to search her memories, which he could only do when in her physical presence. The process also left her debilitated for two or three days and so interfered with her role as Regent of Spies. It had been two years since he had read her thoughts. But now that Deirdre was freed, could she continue to fool him? Could she keep him from reading her mind?
She paused and prayed for strength and a chance to see Boann again. When finished, she balled her hands into fists and walked out onto the balcony. To the west, clouds were rolling in from the ocean, darkening the air with giant columns of rain, but overhead the late afternoon sky shone a fresh blue.
Deirdre walked along the balcony and found Typhon in a white alabaster body, his usual seven feet of bulging muscle. His mane of silky red hair hung down his shoulders. From his back grew wings of checkered red and black feathers. He was facing away from Deirdre.
Near him stood a large cube of blindness. It was not a cube of blackness. Black was a shade. Deirdre's eye could have perceived and her mind could have experienced blackness. When she looked at the cube, she did not see blackness; she simply did not see.
The cube was how she perceived the Savanna Walker. She could resist most effects the beast had on a mind. This close, most anyone else would have been aphasic and delirious.
“Demon,” Deirdre announced, “I've returned.”
Typhon turned. His eyes were now black onyx, but his features were the same as ever: snub nose, thin lips, high cheekbones. His expression of supercilious amusement filled Deirdre with a hatred so hot it nearly made her jump. It took every ounce of her control to keep her face blank.
“My troublemaking daughter,” Typhon said in his rumbling tone.
“Was it worth it? I thought you were done with childish suicide. It's been years.”
She bowed. “This was not the same. This was for the Disjunction.”
It was hard to tell, his features being so white, but Deirdre thought the demon had raised his eyebrows. “Convince me, daughter. Why did you need to escape my possession to advance the Disjunction?”
“I had to protect our work from that reckless beast you've taken into
your confidence.” She glared at the Savanna Walker. It was difficult; her impulse was to look away from blindness.
“Daughter, you are under my compulsion not to opposeâ” Deirdre went momentarily deaf as the demon spoke the Savanna Walker's true name.
To better control the monster, Typhon had altered the Savanna Walker's mind so that the beast had less influence over someone speaking or even thinking his true name. As a result, the Walker deafened anyone hearing his name's sounds, blinded anyone seeing its letters.
Deirdre's hearing returned. “If you persist in defying me,” Typhon said, “I will reinvest more of my soul in you. Haven't I proven that you are no longer capable of resisting the Disjunction? You cannot help but advance our cause.”
“I am convinced, my lord. I will do anything to advance our cause and to convert my beloved Boann to the Disjunction. You must believeâ” Her voice stopped and she tottered to her left.
This had happened before. When the Savanna Walker moved, he caused the balcony tiles to vibrate as if in an earthquake. To prevent her from feeling this, the Walker had briefly paralyzed the nerves in her legs that sensed vibration. Those same nerves, she'd learned, also sensed the angle of her joints. Therefore, when they were disabled, it became hard for her to keep her balance when she wasn't looking at her feet.
When Deirdre steadied herself, she found she was deaf again. The Savanna Walker was speaking.
“Typhon,” Deirdre said, though she could not hear her own voice. “I must ⦠I have to tell you ⦔ She stumbled to her left again. Suddenly her hearing and balance returned.
Typhon was frowning at her. “What did you do when you were free?”
She smiled. “The beast isn't being open with you, is he?”
Typhon's frown deepened. “What did you do?”
She bowed. “When I explain, you will want to reward my dedication. And you will want to protect me from any reprisal from the Savanna Walker.”
The demon only stared.
Deirdre pressed on. “You know I have long desired to learn how the Silent Blight figures into your plans for the Disjunction. How can I serve our cause without knowing of what you have called our most powerful tool? Perhaps now that I've protected the Disjunction from that beast, you will reward me by telling me of the Silent Blight.”
This time Deirdre was ready for the Walker's reply; she spread her feet and waited until she could hear again. Then she looked up at Typhon as he spoke to her: “You've made”âagain the Walker deafened her as Typhon
spoke his true nameâ“defensive.” The demon stepped toward her. “Tell me now. What exactly did you do?”
She smiled. “I put Francesca into play.”
“I gave no such orders,” Typhon said coldly. “I've no intention of wounding Nicodemus yet.”
Deirdre's smile grew. “And I beg your forgiveness, but it was necessary to ⦠to ⦔ The Walker had made her deaf to her own voice. She kept talking. “I had to put her into play to protect her and everything we've worked for. As your Regent of Spies, I've learned that the Savanna Walker has been manipulating you. He's determined to remove her for himself.”
When she stopped, she was still deaf. Typhon pointed at the Savanna Walker and said something. Deirdre's hearing returned.
The demon studied her. “You put Francesca into play to protect her from the Savanna Walker?”
She nodded. “Francesca will soon find Nicodemus. She can still keep him alive after you wound him. I couldn't tell you what I was planning because the beast would have stolen or killed Francesca before my petition reached your ears.”
He studied her. “And so you planned to do this during Nicodemus's little raid?”
“Raid?”
“Nicodemus snuck his students into the sanctuary when the lycanthropes attacked North Gate. The boy and his kobolds fought their way up into my private library.”
“I'm sorry, my lord, but I don't understand. What happened?”
The demon snorted. “The shock on your face had better be genuine, or I'll never trust your expression again.”
“It is not only genuine but also profound. What are you talking about, my lord?”
Typhon explained how Nicodemus had broken into his private library, nearly reaching him when his mind was partially deconstructed. “I should thank you, daughter. By bringing”âdeafness as he said the Walker's true nameâ“to the sanctuary, you forced Nicodemus to abandon his attack. Though the boy would have discovered a surprise if he had reached me.”
As comprehension sank into Deirdre's mind, so did cold dread. Had she inadvertently stopped Nicodemus from freeing her? “My lord, I did not knowâ”
“Of course not, daughter. But that's not the issue; Francesca is. Tell me everything she said.”
Deirdre took a deep breath. Whether or not she had foiled Nicodemus's plan, she had to push on with her own. “My lord, I will humbly withhold
my obedience unless you tell me the Walker's true name so I can protect myself from his manipulation. I also humbly request an explanation of the Silent Blight so I might better know the Disjunction's plans.”
“Humbly?” The demon laughed and crossed his arms. “I could peel the memories from your mind.”
“That would take you a day and leave me incapacitated for longer. You can't afford that. My agents have found proof the Savanna Walker is stealing powerful objects from you again. Remember the Lornish necklace he swallowed two years ago? Or the Ixonian urn the year before that? Only this time the Walker's greed is focused on Francesca.” Though the Savanna Walker had stolen from the demon in the past, Deirdre was presently lying; she knew the beast had no designs on Francesca. To induce Typhon to believe her she would have to produce evidence.
She continued, “I have learned that the Walker removed the anklet you put on Francesca. He did so to take power from it, and to hide Francesca from you so he might consume her. I couldn't tell you of my suspicions, my lord, until I knew where the beast hid the anklet. I needed evidence. Now my agents have learned that the Walker is hiding the anklet in the body of one of his followers. One of the bodies that he ⦠forgive me, my lord, but I don't know how he consumes them. One of the bodies he swallows? that he magically preserves? Whatever the case, the anklet is in one of those.”
Typhon became still as the alabaster statue he resembled. Deirdre knew that the demon was now sending his mind in search of the magical anklet.
Suddenly, Deirdre tottered back a few steps. She was deaf again. When she looked up, she saw the cube of blindness advancing on her. “Don't you dare touch me,” she said without hearing her own voice. She might not have the Savanna Walker's ability to manipulate minds, but she was still Typhon's avatar. She could summon enough strength to crush a block of marble with her hands. “I swear on the Creator's name, I will break yourâ”
The cube stopped advancing. “Both of you will be silent!” It was Typhon, his alabaster body again animated. Moving with frightening speed, the demon marched into the cube of blindness.
For a moment Deirdre was left seemingly alone on the balcony. She took another step back, fought the urge to run.
Suddenly Typhon stepped back out of the cube of blindness. Both his arms up to the elbows were covered with dark, clotting blood. Between the giant thumb and forefinger of his right hand glinted a small silver chain.
Deirdre smiled.
Typhon turned his horrible white face to Deirdre. “Daughter,” he said, “you will explain everything you did to Francesca, or I will pluck it out of your mind.”
“My lord, you will not have my cooperation until I have the Savanna Walker's true name and knowledge of the Silent Blight. I am the Disjunction's true champion; he is not.”
“You are my Regent of Spies,” the demon repeated. “I have the right to know.”
“And because it is best for the Disjunction,” she said with a stiff bow, “I have the right to resist. If you steal the memories from my mind, you'll be cutting our cause when we can't afford to bleed.” She nodded at the Savanna Walker. “The beast is manipulating you toâ”
“Quiet,” the demon snapped and then turned on the Walker. Deirdre heard nothing of what followed but judged by Typhon's expression that he was demanding an explanation from the beast.