Shadow of the Father (42 page)

“You did great,” Sinch said. “They hate foxes so much…”

“It was you,” Yilon said. “you came for me, and I came for you. That’s what convinced them.”

He stopped talking to climb up the rough brick of the wall, which was lucky because Sinch found himself blinking back tear. He wiped his eyes and took a deep breath. It was the tension vanishing, he told himself. No more than that. No more than that. He touched the hilt of the dagger in his belt, and for a moment he was standing again in the palace in Divalia, in front of the armory.

“Coming?” Yilon said. Sinch looked up at the white tip of Yilon’s tail, almost glowing in the dim light under a layer of dust and streaks of grime, and at the long vulpine smile above it. He squared his shoulders, the weight of the satchel feeling like nothing at all as he climbed.

“You were impressive too,” Yilon said, replacing the grate and looking around the deserted street. “Coming here all by yourself. You should’ve told me.”

“I guess it’s not just lords who have to keep promises.” Sinch couldn’t stop grinning.

A voice floated out from a small arched doorway, hidden in shadow. “I’ll be damned to Dark.” Sinch saw the ropy end of a mouse’s tail twitching along the pavement in front of it. He took a step closer and lifted his nose.

“Valix?”

“Did you at least leave a few corpses behind for that?”

“What are you doing out of bed?”

Her arm came out into the light, pointing at Yilon. “He carried me out here.”

“He what?”

Yilon had the grace to flatten his ears. “She was the only one who knew where you might have gone.”

“She shouldn’t be out of bed!” Sinch knew he should be acting more indignant, but the sacrifices that Yilon and now Valix had made warmed his chest and made his tail curl in on itself.

“It was boring in that bedroom anyway,” Valix said. “I feel fine. Long as I don’t move too much.”

“Let’s get you back there,” Yilon said. He walked to her and picked her up gently, while Sinch watched, shaking his head.

“Can’t believe you two,” he muttered, falling in behind them. “Rodenta must be working overtime.”

“
I
can’t believe us,” Valix said. “A fox walking around carrying a mouse, with another mouse behind him. You’ll be lucky if the guard doesn’t stop us.”

“Let them,” Yilon said.

They saw only two guards patrolling, two streets away. Yilon didn’t look in their direction as they crossed. Sinch saw the garbage-collectors stopping to gawk at them, so he walked taller and held his muzzle up in the face of their incredulity.

“So,” Valix said, “how did you get it away from them, anyway?”

Sinch told her of his argument with the Shadows, and Yilon’s dramatic entrance. “Lucky shot,” Yilon said, laughing, and then grinned down at Sinch. “But a definite win for me.”

Sinch’s sheath tingled. “I will not argue with that,” he said.

“And then I just negotiated with them,” Yilon said.

“I still can’t believe they didn’t just kill you outright.” Valix kept turning her head to look at them, though she winced every time she did.

“Stop moving,” Yilon said. “I looked for the sentry like you told me, but didn’t see him around. When I saw them threatening Sinch, I tried to figure out a way I could save him. Because if I killed one of them, they’d likely kill him.”

“But that helped convince them, I think,” Sinch said, “that he didn’t kill them right away. And he’d come to save a mouse.”

“They’d have a hard time believing that, all right,” Valix said. She fiddled with her wristlet, turning it around her wrist.

“And I think Whisper… lost someone close to him… in the recent raid,” Yilon said, panting as they climbed a hill toward the Heights. “Just the way he talked.”

“Oh,” Sinch said. “I didn’t pick up on that.”

“I might be wrong,” Yilon said. “But he’s certainly taking a chance, giving us the crown back.”

“I’ll say,” Valix said. “What did you promise in return?”

“Alliance,” Yilon said. “Peace.”

“Hmph.” Valix craned her neck to see Sinch. “You going to help with that? They like you.”

“Going to try,” Sinch said.

“You’d better come through, for all our sakes. That’s all I have to say,” Valix said, and indeed she stopped talking until they reached Dinah’s house and the second floor bed.

Colian, fuming, chased them out of the room as soon as they’d laid her down. “If she never walks again, the blame rests on your heads,” he called through the door. “She needs rest and peace and quiet, not being dragged around in the middle of the night to lie on filthy stones and Canis knows what else. Go save the world without her.”

Sinch stopped on the landing. “Never walk again?” he said softly to Yilon. “Really?”

Yilon patted his shoulder. “I bet right now he’s telling her he just said that to scare us.”

“I hope so.” Sinch trailed Yilon down the stairs, waiting while he went to wake Dinah. Sinch’s paw brushed the leather of the satchel, hoping Valix would be okay. They’d needed her help, no doubt about that, but what if she never did recover from the injury? What if she became a cripple? She’d been the only real friend he’d made here in Dewanne. He paced back and forth at the bottom of the stairs until Yilon and a sleepy Dinah emerged.

“Sinch, you stay here,” Yilon said. “The two of us are going to the governor’s mansion. Colian said Maxon went back there, and we need to fetch Lady Dewanne and Velkan anyway.”

“Can’t we just sleep another hour?” Dinah complained. “It’s still dark out.”

“By the time we get everyone together, it’ll be light.” Yilon padded over to Sinch and hugged him. “You should be safe here. Hide in the third floor room and wait for us.”

Sinch moved the satchel to his other shoulder and nodded.

“But…”

Yilon had already started to walk back to Dinah. “What? You want to come with us?”

Sinch shook his head. “Just… people know about this place. Shadows, Maxon… and it’d be just me guarding it.”

“They’re all on our side now,” Yilon said.

“I know, but still.” Sinch perked up. “Wait. I know the place. Are there services in the church today?”

“Only Caniday and Gaiaday,” Dinah said. “Why?”

“I found a hiding place there.” Sinch patted the satchel. “It’s closer to the palace, too.”

“Castle,” Yilon said. “They call it a castle here. It’s still risky for you to walk with it by yourself, in daylight. Why don’t you just wait in the church until we arrive?”

“They’ll like that anyway,” Dinah said. “The crown presented in the church and all. Although…” She looked at Sinch.

“They’re going to have to get used to Sinch being around me,” Yilon said firmly.

Dinah nodded. “Hopefully they’ll be so happy about the crown they won’t care, right? Still, maybe you don’t want to start with the church.”

Sinch was thinking the same thing, but he didn’t know where else the crown would be safe. Yilon narrowed his eyes and grinned. “I just walked into the lair of the Shadows and survived. They can survive my friend in their church.” He saw Sinch’s objection and answered it before Sinch even had a chance to open his mouth. “I made a promise to you, too,” he said.

And Sinch just nodded, because in that moment Yilon looked a foot taller, his ears straight up and brimming with confidence, and Sinch believed he could do anything he set his mind to, because he saw in his friend’s eyes that he believed it, too. “All right,” he said. “But if there’s any trouble…”

“They’ll deal with me.”

Dinah smiled, her own ears perking up. “And me,” she said. “You’re right. They’ll listen to us, for a change.”

Even the “us” from Dinah couldn’t dim Sinch’s pride in what Yilon had accomplished. He walked a little behind Yilon, trying to imitate his confident, upright bearing past the few foxes they encountered. Behind him, in the east, dawn crept over the slopes of the mountains, outlining them with soft light. The mice in the alleys were making their final rounds; he saw fewer and fewer of them as they drew closer to the church, and as the dawn crept further and further up the sky.

“Nice,” Yilon said, rounding a corner. He stopped for a moment to look down the street at the elegant building at the end of it. Sinch had been afraid he wouldn’t recognize the church, in the darkness, but there was no mistaking it. In each of the windows that ringed the lower level, candles burned, and although they weren’t facing the front of the church, Sinch could see now that the sign of Canis was glass, stained green, lit from inside and glowing, atop the warm windows below. Even to Sinch, about whom he was sure Canis cared nothing, the sign beckoned him in with the promise of safety.

“We’ll walk you to the door,” Yilon said, starting up the street.

Dinah followed him, and Sinch followed her.

The church was not empty, it turned out. A fox knelt on one of the benches, head bowed. At the creak of the door, a tall fox in white robes with green trim paced over to them. Sinch watched him between Yilon and Dinah, watched his ears go back and his smile waver when he looked between them too, and saw Sinch.

“Sir,” he said softly, approaching Yilon, “this is a church of Canis.”

“My father,” Yilon said, “I am, to be the lord of Dewanne, and this… and Sinch is under my protection.” He put a paw on Sinch’s shoulder and stepped aside so the Cantor could see Sinch clearly. Sinch straightened his shoulders and tried to appear as harmless as he felt. “He requires a safe, quiet place for an hour, perhaps two, until I return with Lady Dewanne.”

“Can’t… can’t I go with you?” Sinch didn’t feel threatened in the church, but he didn’t feel welcome.

Yilon glanced at the leather satchel. Sinch took his meaning immediately, that he didn’t want to leave the crown unguarded. “I don’t want to cause a scene at the castle. And I don’t know Velkan’s mansion. You’ll be safe here. Won’t he, my father?”

“Uh, well…” The Cantor looked from Sinch to Yilon. His ears had folded slightly back and Sinch could see the whites of his wide eyes.

“My father,” Yilon said, “I know it is hard for you. I ask you to trust me.”

“I’ll stay in that chapel,” Sinch said, pointing. “I just want some time alone. I won’t take anything.”

The Cantor looked pointedly at the leather satchel. His nose wrinkled. “It looks like you’ve already been busy,” he said.

“He’s holding something for me,” Yilon said, his voice colder. “I will be responsible for any damage he causes.”

“Shh!” The Cantor flicked his glance back to Yilon. “Don’t let him hear you say that.”

“I don’t care,” Yilon said, staring back. “I will also hold you responsible if he and his burden are not safely here when I return.”

“This is not a storage area,” the Cantor said. “And you are very young to be responsible for—”

“I am to be the lord of Dewanne.” Yilon’s voice was as icy as Sinch had ever heard it. “This mouse is under my protection, and I am asking you to entrust him to yours.”

As inspiring as it was to watch Yilon, Sinch couldn’t bear to meet the Cantor’s gaze. Looking around the church, he noticed that the praying fox’s ears were swept back, also probably embarrassed or annoyed. Sinch felt less comfortable now than he had when the church was empty; the Cantor’s musk was strong, reminding him that his goddess was nowhere around, and that the dim morning light was a carnivore’s time. Though the symbol of Gaia was displayed above the altar, all of the symbols lit with candles were the star of Canis. Around the upper tier of windows, he could no longer see the facing frescoes he’d seen the previous day. In deeper darkness or better light, he would feel better.

The Cantor drew himself up. “I will accompany him to the chapel, and he will wait inside there until you return.”

“That’s fine,” Sinch said hurriedly.

Yilon rested a paw on his shoulder. “I’ll be back soon.”

Sinch nodded and smiled, not wanting to display the affection he felt, here in front of the Cantor. He patted the leather satchel. “I’ll be here.”

He watched Yilon and Dinah leave, while the Cantor tapped his paw. When Sinch turned back, the Cantor swept away toward the chapel, the backward sweep of his ears the only indication that he cared whether Sinch was following him. Sinch did, at a distance, trying to soak up the calm of the church. Even in the carnivore’s hour, even with the Cantor’s attitude putting his nerves somewhat on edge, the idea that the church had been here for hundreds of years reassured him.

At the chapel, the Cantor waited without speaking while Sinch went inside, and then drew the curtain across. Here, in the smaller enclosed space, Sinch felt safer still. He took one step forward.

“Don’t touch the book,” the Cantor said curtly.

Sinch jumped at the words, then exhaled slowly. “Wasn’t going to,” he muttered, but now, perversely, he wanted to. Still, he refrained, though he did look to see if the page was till at the same place. The words were indistinct in the faint light, but he thought the illuminations were familiar. Something about the shadow of Canis on the cub. He didn’t intend to linger long enough in the chapel for the sun to brighten the page for him. As soon as he heard the Cantor move away, he padded quietly to the back and around the curtain. The stone, looser this time, made less noise as he moved it aside. He pushed the satchel through the opening and then squeezed through himself.

On the other side, in the darkness, he listened for any activity. The heavy curtain dulled most of the sounds from the church; probably it also dulled the sound of the stone being moved. Rather than make more noise, he left the stone ajar. The Cantor wouldn’t let anyone else into the chapel, and even if he did, they wouldn’t look behind the curtain. Sinch picked up the satchel and crept down into the blackness of the crypt.

He walked around the stairs, feeling with his paw for a place to put the satchel down. The floor felt too grimy, and there were spiderwebs around too. But the mensas, when he touched them, were dry. There was one, partway along the wall, that had enough space for the satchel. He brushed it as clear of dust as he could, stifling sneezes, and then paced the distance from it to the stairs and back away, until he was sure he could find it easily. Then he placed the satchel on the ledge and sat beneath it, closing his eyes, intending to nap for an hour.