Caught in Crystal: A Lyra Novel (31 page)

The woman who had spoken turned and glared at him. Beside her, one of her companions said pettishly, “It’s too bad Elder Sister Barthelmy couldn’t keep him upstairs. If he hadn’t come down babbling like that, none of this would have happened.”

Kayl looked around the table. Several heads were nodding, and there was agreement on many faces. Kayl’s temper gave way. “And if any of you had the good will you were born with, the situation would never have arisen. You all know what this expedition is trying to do, why Glyndon and Barthelmy and I are here, but all of you except Risper and Demma have done nothing but snipe at us since the day we left Kith Alunel. Do you think the people in this village didn’t notice your suspicions?”

“Kayl—”

“Shut up, Glyndon! I’ve been wanting to say this for a long time and I’m going to finish. All of you know what Glyndon’s visions are like; he’s had enough of them on this trip. Any one of you could have said something to keep the villagers from ever getting worked up—you could have passed it off as the fit you called it a minute ago. You didn’t even try, did you? You let Javieri and Corrana deal with Glyndon, and you sat watching like so many Frost Fair dolls.”

“We were ready to defend him,” said one of the warriors of the Star Clusters.

“So you were, Your Justice.” Kayl gave a sarcastic twist to the formal address. “You had to. It’s a pity that didn’t occur to you earlier, when you could have done something to avoid the problem. Instead you almost got yourselves attacked by a mob of half-drunk, unarmed villagers.”

“I don’t have to listen to this,” one of the sorceresses said, rising.

“Sit down, Holmi,” Elder Mother Javieri said. Her voice was low, and colder than the northern ice fields. “Or do you claim you need not listen to me?”

The woman dropped back into her seat as if someone had kicked her knees from behind.

“Kayl is right in her complaints,” Javieri went on, “and I am deeply disappointed in you.”

Kayl saw Corrana sit back a little, as if in satisfaction. Glyndon was listening with an abstracted expression, as though the conversation had nothing to do with him. Barthelmy looked worried; Risper was having trouble not grinning.

“This is not the first time I have heard complaints about the treatment some of you give Glyndon shal Morag,” Javieri went on. “Nor have all the complaints come from Kayl Larrinar. I have also watched and seen for myself. I should have spoken sooner, and perhaps this night’s work would have been avoided.”

“It wasn’t even a tavern brawl,” someone muttered.

Javieri’s eyes flashed. “It did not have to be. Some of you seem to have forgotten that this is no pleasure trip. The future of the Sisterhood depends on us. Furthermore, there are Magicseekers looking for us, and you have just allowed a scene that none of these villagers will forget. In three days it will be the talk of the countryside. You have been so busy with your dislike of Glyndon, Barthelmy, and Kayl that you have not thought about what we are doing. Where is your training?”

“We have seen no sign of Magicseekers since we left Kith Alunel,” Elder Mother Alessa pointed out.

“
They
aren’t making spectacles of themselves,” Kayl said, and paused. “Besides, there’s a good chance that they’re ahead of us already.”

“What!” said several voices at once.

“I ran into an old friend of mine, a Wyrd who’s heading north,” Kayl said. “A week ago, she saw a very suspicious-looking group of men at a village just south of here. She thinks they might have been Magicseekers, and I agree with her. They had horses; add up the travel time yourselves.”

There was a murmur of dismay from the Sisters. “Where is this friend of yours?” one of the Elder Sisters asked. “We should ask her a few questions.”

“Ask away,” said a voice from the direction of the doorway.

Heads turned. Bryn stood just inside the tavern, her dark-furred face unreadable. Beside her stood Alden and their eleven-year-old daughter, Xaya. There was a moment’s silence; then Mark and Dara cried, “Xaya! Bryn!” and ran forward, babbling excitedly.

Bryn’s eyes narrowed as she gazed indulgently at the three children, all of whom were talking at once. She waited a moment, until the first spate of excited chatter had passed, then said, “Xaya! Why don’t you take Mark and Dara somewhere and show them the Kulseth knot trick you learned in Salfirn?”

“Try the back room,” Kayl said. “I think it’s empty.”

The children left quickly, still chattering, and Alden and Bryn came forward. Kayl noticed that they had latched the door behind themselves.

“Bryn saMural and Alden toBrilan, these are my traveling companions,” Kayl said, waving at the company. She suppressed a temptation to leave it at that, and ran quickly through the list of names instead. “I think you’ve met Elder Sister Corrana,” she finished.

“I remember,” Bryn said, and looked at Corrana. “You have a way of making an entrance.”

“So have you,” Corrana replied dryly, and Bryn grinned.

“Kayl tells us you have seen men who may be Magicseekers,” Elder Mother Miracote said to Bryn. “Tell us of them.”

Bryn glanced at Kayl and cocked an ear questioningly. Kayl shook her head. “I didn’t have time to mention it. Things were a bit confused when I got here.”

“What are you talking about?” Miracote demanded.

“I agreed to talk to you if I could get some information in return,” Bryn said. “I want to know if you’ve heard of any Wyrd settlements near here.”

“If we knew, be sure we would tell you,” Javieri said. “I, for one, have not been told of any.” She glanced around the faces of her fellow Sisters, but all of them shook their heads.

“And in the north?” Bryn asked.

Again, Javieri shook her head. “I am sorry.”

Bryn shrugged. “You can’t tell me what you don’t know. It was worth trying, though.”

“Then you will answer our questions?” Miracote asked. The Wyrd woman nodded, and Miracote went on, “Tell us your tale.”

One of Bryn’s ears twitched forward at Miracote’s tone, and behind her Alden’s eyes widened to amber discs. Then Bryn gave a half shrug and repeated the story she had told Kayl. When she finished, Alden told his own version, adding more details about the people he had seen. One of them fit the description of the man who had questioned Dara, but a great many men could be described as “sort of tall and plain, with a mustache.”

“Not entirely convincing,” Miracote said when the two Wyrds had finished.

“Must it be so?” Javieri said. “Kayl is right; we have taken too many chances with this mission already.”

“Alden,” Kayl said suddenly, “did any of those men wear rings?”

“No,” the Wyrd replied. “Some had the habit of it, though. Fairly heavy rings, I’d say, on the left hand’s middle finger.”

“How many of the men?”

“At least three of them; the others I didn’t see closely enough to notice.”

“How can you know that?” Elder Mother Alessa asked curiously.

“I am a jewelsmith, lady,” the Wyrd replied.

“Even if these men were Magicseekers indeed, what would you have us do?” Miracote said to Javieri. “It is too late to prevent them from getting ahead of us.”

“We’ll have to give up or try to slip by them,” Kayl said promptly, before Javieri could answer. “There aren’t any other choices, unless you’re considering a full-fledged battle.”

“We could stay here awhile,” one of the Mothers said in a doubtful tone.

“After the fuss you let happen this evening?” Kayl said. “You can stay, if you like; I won’t.”

There was a brief silence. Then Javieri said with decision, “We cannot give up now, so we must try to avoid these men. Your suggestions, please.”

The Sisters all started talking at once, reminding Kayl vividly of the behavior of Mark, Dara, and Xaya a few minutes earlier. Kayl did not bother to listen closely. She had done as much as she could, for now, in persuading the Sisters to discuss the problem at all. In the end, the Elder Mothers would make the decision themselves. Kayl looked across at Glyndon and saw that he had regained most of his color. She caught his eye and nodded slightly in the direction of the kitchen.

Glyndon smiled, rose, and left. The Sisters did not comment on his departure, but when Kayl rose a moment later they looked questioningly at her.

“I’m going to check on the children,” she said to no one in particular. “Join me, Bryn?”

Bryn nodded. Only Kayl’s long acquaintance with her allowed her to see the amusement in Bryn’s inhuman eyes as the two Wyrds joined her in leaving the room.

T
HE TAVERN-KEEPER WAS
not in the kitchen, for which Kayl was grateful. The gray-haired man was sitting on a bench near an open hearth, telling a story to the three fascinated children. Glyndon was watching the group with a bemused expression; when Kayl and the Wyrds came in, he looked up and came quickly over.

“Where did he come from?” Glyndon asked in a low voice as he joined Kayl. “He seems familiar somehow.”

“He’s a villager, I think,” Kayl said dubiously. “Though he seems familiar to me, too.”

“Listen to that story he’s telling.”

Kayl listened. It was something about a group of magicians and an island and a white bird or a woman. “It’s the story of the founding of Varna,” Glyndon said. “I didn’t think anyone on the mainland knew it.”

Kayl blinked and studied the gray-haired man more closely. He was clean-shaven, gray-eyed, tall and lean. His voice was deep and smooth, flowing like wine beneath the words of his story. He had no trace of the Varnan accent that still flavored Glyndon’s speech, but then, Kevran had not had an accent either. The thought of Kevran lit a candle in Kayl’s mind, and she said in a low, urgent voice, “Glyndon! Remember the man who told us how to find the Twisted Tower, the one Kevran talked to in that little town just outside the mountains? He had dark hair then, but his voice is the same.”

“You’re right,” Glyndon said after a moment. “I wonder why he’s here now?”

Before Kayl could reply, the storyteller turned his head, as though aware that he was under scrutiny. “If you’re looking for Penshar, he’s gone out,” he called. “I told him I’d keep an eye on things for a few hours.”

“Oh?” Kayl frowned, thinking of Magicseekers. “Where’s he gone?”

“There’s a woman he visits whenever he gets upset,” the gray-haired man said with a smile. His voice held a wealth of amusement. “And he’s had a rather upsetting evening.”

Kayl’s opinion of Penshar’s innkeeping dropped another notch; after the confrontation between the villagers and the Sisters, she herself would not have left the main room unattended, much less the whole inn.

The man must have seen her expression change, for he added, “I’ve done this before. Is there anything I can get you?”

“All we need is a place to stand and talk awhile,” Kayl said. “The main room is a little busy.”

“Well, if you want something, just ask,” the man said, and returned to his storytelling. The children did no more than nod at Kayl and Bryn before returning to their absorption.

“Whoever he is, I wish I knew his secret,” Bryn commented. “I haven’t seen Xaya so quiet since before we left Copeham.”

Kayl turned back to Glyndon. “Glyndon, was there anything new in what you ‘saw’?”

Glyndon shook his head. “Nothing. And there should have been.”

“What do you mean?”

“The vision is always the same, but it still doesn’t feel certain. Yet normally I would have ‘seen’ an alternative by now, if there were one.”

“Perhaps it’s the outcome of the vision that changes,” Bryn suggested. “Or the significance it has.”

“It’s possible, I suppose,” Glyndon said, frowning. “I don’t think it’s ever happened before.”

“Have you ever had visions of the Tower before?” Kayl asked pointedly.

“I know, I know. It doesn’t make me any happier about going there, though.”

“You can still back out,” Kayl said. “All the Sisterhood is offering you is a chance. You might not be losing anything.”

“You’d still be going.”

“Yes,” Kayl said, meeting his eyes steadily.

Glyndon nodded. “Then there’s nothing more to be said.”

“This is fascinating,” Bryn said. “Or I’m sure it would be, if I knew what you were talking about. But aren’t you forgetting a little matter of some Magicseekers who may be ahead of you? What do you expect to do about them?”

“I don’t know,” Kayl said. She glanced toward the door and shook her head. “The Sisters in there will talk about it for hours; I only hope they come up with something good. It’ll have to be, to get a group this size past Magicseekers without being noticed.”

“Our woodcraft is at your disposal,” Alden said, bowing.

“Such as it is,” Bryn added.

“What?” Kayl said. “I thought you were going with Shav and his group.”

“When Shav heard there might be Magicseekers about, he decided we should split up,” Alden explained in a dry voice. “Bryn and I are of the opinion that we’d be safer joining you than traveling alone in this territory.”

Kayl stared. “Are you mad? We’re talking about going into the Windhome Mountains and trying to sneak past an unknown number of Magicseekers who are probably looking for us. Once we get past them, if we do, we have to get inside a tower with a death spell on the door and some kind of voracious black goo inside. And you think that’ll be safer than traveling alone?”

“Probably—for Wyrds,” Bryn said cheerfully.

“You
are
mad,” Kayl said.

“Excuse me,” said the deep voice of the gray-haired man, “but you come from the Sisterhood of Stars, do you not?”

Glyndon turned, frowning, and Kayl saw the gray-haired man behind him. Dara was standing beside the hearth, drawing a diagram on the stone with a half-burned twig to show Xaya where they had been; Mark was leaning over from the other side to correct any mistakes.

“Forgive me for startling you,” the gray-haired man said, addressing Kayl and Glyndon. “I couldn’t help overhearing some of your discussion, and then, of course, I recognized you.”

“Did you.” Kayl kept her voice flat. The man was too sure of himself; he made her uneasy.

“Yes. My name is Ferianek Trone. I doubt that you remember me, but we met some sixteen years ago in a village a little south of here.”