Songreaver (18 page)

"You think Prex is the one sending those
things out after people?" Garrett asked.

Warren shrugged. "I guess," he said, "I mean
the guy's evil. Maybe if you do enough bad stuff, you get to have
really evil guy
powers?"

"And your Dad fought all the demons by
himself?"

Warren hung his head, scratching at his wound
again. "We tried to help," he said, "but... when we saw we couldn't
really hurt them..."

Warren's shaggy shoulders shook as he sucked
in a breath.

"Dad said the rest of us should run for it
while... I told Ymowyn to go on, but she wouldn't let go of my arm.
She kept yelling that we had to keep running. Then one of them got
her around the throat and started chokin' her... That kinda got
my
blood up... In case you ever get the urge,
don't
bite one of those things! They taste like bad cheese... and
fire."

"What happened then?" Garrett asked.

Warren sighed. "Well, lucky for all of us,
Uncle Raik showed up about then. Norris and some other White
Packers were with him, but Raik didn't really need their help. He
starts howlin' out all these weird spells, and he's kinda covered
in this blue light. The demons scream like singed rats and take off
runnin'... or
floatin'
, I guess, but really fast. Dad and
Ymowyn are out, but still breathin', Dad barely. We get Ymowyn
roused enough to walk again, but she keeps mutterin' about
dead
voices
and other cheerful stuff.

"Uncle Raik slings Dad over his shoulder, and
we set out for home. The rest of the White Pack heads back to
Astorra... don't know what they were doin' there, and I didn't
think to ask. The demons trailed us as far as the city, I think,
but they didn't dare come close with Raik there." Warren picked off
a chunk of grave mold from his face and flicked it into the
water.

"Well, I'm glad you guys are all right,"
Garrett said, "I guess the Inquisitor probably sent those things
after those Peacebringer people too. Lucky your uncle was there.
Miss Serepheni wasn't able to save the lady that was hurt like your
dad was."

"Yeah... I don't know what we're gonna do
next time we meet those things," Warren said.

"Maybe I could teach you some fairy magic,"
Garrett said.

Warren snorted with laughter.

"You wouldn't be laughing if you saw what it
did to one of those things," Garrett said.

Warren stopped laughing. "I'm sorry, Gar," he
said, "I'd try just about anything at this point. I don't ever want
to feel that helpless again."

"I'll bring you a can of essence tomorrow
after I get back from the temple," Garrett said.

"Temple?" Warren asked.

Garrett sighed. "I sorta agreed to do the
whole Templar thing that Miss Serepheni wanted me to do."

Warren gave him and incredulous look.

"I
know
," Garrett said, "but Max said
it's a great opportunity, and I shouldn't really have to do all
that much. It's just an
honorable
title or something."

"Does your uncle know about this?" Warren
asked.

Garrett winced. "Not really... I haven't had
a chance to tell him yet."

"Well, you'd better tell him quick," Warren
said, "Tomorrow you'll have already sold your soul to the Worm
Queen or something."

"Yeah," Garrett said, staring out at the
lake. Something large and scaly broke the surface and then
disappeared again beneath the water.

Warren reached out and laid his paw on
Garrett's back. "It's good to see you again, Gar," he said.

"You too, Warren."

****

Garrett rapped his knuckles softly against
the door of Uncle's study. It swung open a little on its creaking
hinges.

"Come in, Garrett," Uncle Tinjin said.

Garrett stepped into the warm little room to
find Uncle Tinjin seated at his table studying a large and garishly
illustrated book.

"What's that?" Garrett asked as he
approached.

A large illustration, spanning both open
pages, depicted a great, golden-scaled dragon curled around a white
obelisk, surrounded by smaller dragons of many different colors.
Around them, a great city of domes and spires rose up to meet a
clear, star-swept sky. Before the golden dragon, in an open
courtyard, stood what looked like the silhouette of a man, wreathed
in smoke. The man's shadowy arm pointed upward toward one of the
two moons hanging above them. His finger, drawn as sharp as a
dagger, pointed directly at the heart of what appeared to be a
great, faceted gem in the sky.

"Did the Crystal Moon really look like that?"
Garrett asked.

Uncle Tinjin laughed. "An artist's fancy, no
doubt," he said, "It probably looked much like any natural stone.
Of course there's no way of knowing now. No real records survived
the cataclysm that followed the moon's destruction, only stories
passed down by the survivors."

"Who's that guy?" Garrett asked, pointing at
the dark, smoking figure in the center of the courtyard.

"One of the Volgrem," Uncle said, "ancient
demons that came to this world to spread their own kind of
mischief."

Garrett felt a chill run through his body at
the memory of the things in the forest... the same things that had
attacked Warren and the others. "Where do they come from?" he
asked.

Tinjin shrugged. "Who knows?" he said, "and
who knows what they hope to accomplish. They've tried to destroy
this world at least once through their trickery. Perhaps they hope
to succeed this time in some more subtle fashion."

"By working with the Chadiri?" Garrett
said.

"That would seem to be the case," Uncle
sighed, "What is it you wanted?"

"I..." Garrett hesitated, "I have to do
something for Max tomorrow, and I wanted to tell you about it."

"Oh? What is it?"

"I have to go to the temple," Garrett
said.

Uncle's face darkened. "The temple? What
for?"

Garrett drew in a breath before speaking
again. "I'm supposed to learn how to be a Templar."

Uncle Tinjin stared back at him for a moment
and then coughed, his eyes bulging a bit. "What?" he demanded.

"It happened when we were up in the swamp,
fighting the Chadiri," Garrett said, "I helped figure out a trap
the Chadiri were laying for the army, and everyone was really
grateful... Miss Serepheni was so glad that she made me an
honorable Templar right on the spot."

"
Honorary
," Uncle corrected him.

"Yeah," Garrett said, "... I'm sure it
doesn't really mean anything, but I told Max I would do it, and I
don't want to go back on my word."

Uncle's lips tensed as though holding back
something he wished to say but didn't. "So, Max is pressuring you
into this?" Uncle Tinjin asked.

Garrett winced. "No, he said I could say
no
if I wanted to... I just..."

"You just want to earn his respect," Tinjin
said.

Garrett nodded.

Uncle Tinjin ran his hand over his face and
made an exasperated sound. He stared down at his book for a while.
He sighed. "Oh, to have been born into a quieter age," he
whispered.

Garrett waited. Part of him wished that Uncle
would forbid him to go, and that would be the end of it.

"You may go," Uncle said, "on two conditions.
First, you must report to me everything they ask you to do.
Secondly, you must make no oaths of secrecy with them... I doubt
that they would knowingly share any of the sisterhood's secrets
with you, but you must not pretend that you will be able to keep
any secrets for them."

Garrett nodded.

Uncle Tinjin placed his hand on Garrett's
shoulder. "You must understand that Mauravant was the Mother of
Worms, but her daughters have become a nest of vipers."

"What does that mean?" Garrett asked.

"It means to watch your step," Uncle
said.

"You look very handsome," Serepheni said as
she smoothed the front of Garrett's green silk doublet.

Garrett wished that he had worn a thinner
robe as the added layer of silk was already making him
uncomfortably warm in the incense-laden air of the Temple of
Mauravant. Serepheni had given him permission to wear the tabard of
a Novitiate over his usual necromancer garb. He had feigned a
professional attachment to the purple robes, primarily as an excuse
to keep his hood on. He would probably have to explain his scars to
the other young Templars at some point, but he'd rather it not be
their first impression of him.

"Can I wear my medallion outside the tabard?"
Garrett asked, running his gloved fingertips over the silken lump
just above his heart.

Serepheni smiled and shook her head. "You're
not even supposed to wear that in here," she whispered, "but I
think it will be all right, as long as you keep it out of
sight."

Garrett nodded.

Serepheni stepped back and straightened the
high collar of her own new vestments. She seemed slightly
uncomfortable in the bulky layers of silk of her Matron's habit.
Her promotion had been part of her reward for the successful
campaign in the North. Garrett's acceptance into the Templar
academy had been another.

Garrett's eyes went to the door of the
sacristy. The blood-red wood of the door had been carven in the
shapes of hundreds of writhing worms, intertwined together around
the central figure, a depiction of Mauravant herself. The Worm
Mother looked like a great, segmented worm that formed a serpentine
curve up the center of the door. Clusters of tendrils grew out from
the rim of her mouth to form a tangled halo around her eyeless
head. Garrett shivered to look at the carving of the monstrous
goddess, and hoped that Serepheni took no notice.

"Are you nervous?" she asked.

A distant, mournful chanting of many voices
drifted in from somewhere beyond the door.

"I'm all right," Garrett said.

"You'll be fine," Serepheni said.

"Oh, there was something I wanted to ask
you," Garrett said.

"Yes?"

"I was wondering if I could get another one
of those letters from you," Garrett asked, "I think I found out who
has my fairy, and I wanted to try to go get her back on my way home
today."

Serepheni nodded. "Of course," she said, "I'm
glad you found her. I'll write something particularly intimidating.
They've given me a very impressive seal to stamp things with now,
and I'll use a lot of red wax." She lowered her voice to a whisper,
"It reminds people of blood." She winked at him.

Garrett grinned. "Thanks!" he said.

A distant chime rang out, and Serepheni
steered Garrett toward the door. "You'd better get going," she
said, "You do
not
want to be late for your first day...
trust me."

Serepheni led him from the sacristy out into
the main hall of the outer temple. A group of young girls in green
silk robes stood in the choir lofts to either side of the long
hall. They sang a long, wavering note in a minor key, filled with a
sorrow that chilled Garrett's soul. None of the girls raised their
eyes from their hymnals as the two of them passed by.

Garrett followed Serepheni through the
narrow, serpentine hallway at the entrance of the temple until they
emerged, finally into the gray light of day.

A number of young men in green tabards were
milling aimlessly about the circular courtyard in front of the
temple doors. To either side of the courtyard, the library and
domicile rose, three stories high, each with six great columns of
green nephrite, carved into the shapes of many worms, braided
together. The temple itself, loomed above it all, its ancient
architecture of volcanic stone, inlaid with panels of carved
malachite. Thousands of stony green eyes looked down at Garrett
from above, watching him in silent disapproval.

"I'll meet you here when it's over,"
Serepheni said.

"Thanks," Garrett said, "and thanks for
writing the letter."

"My pleasure," Serepheni said, leaning close
to kiss him on the top of his hood, "Good luck."

Garrett nodded and gave her a worried
smile.

Serepheni walked back into the temple,
leaving Garrett alone with the other boys. A few of them stared
back at him, though most ignored him entirely as he cautiously
approached the center of the courtyard. All of them had their hair
cut short to the point of baldness. Most of them looked to be
slightly younger than Garrett. Even so, several of them were
actually taller and broader of chest than him. A couple of the
larger boys sized him up and sneered.

Garrett trusted the shadow of his hood to
hide his eyes and feigned indifference. Then he saw a familiar
face.

"Banden!" Garrett cried out, waving his
arm.

A sad-looking boy in the shadow of a stone
pillar looked up, his eyes brightening at the sound of Garrett's
voice. "Garrett?" he called back.

Garrett crossed the courtyard to take the
boy's hand in greeting. "It's good to see you again," Garrett said,
"I guess Miss Serepheni got you in here?"

"Yeah," Banden said, "She said that it would
be good for me to spend some time here... until I know what I want
to do next." His eyes fell as he released Garrett's hand.

"Well, I'm glad you're here," Garrett said,
"I don't know anybody else."

"Yeah, I'm glad you're here too," Banden
said.

"Go to the center of the yard and form one
line!" a woman's voice shouted.

Everyone jumped at the sound and then hurried
to comply as a short, athletic woman strode toward the front steps
of the temple. She wore brown leather leggings and a green,
sleeveless tunic and carried a bundle of short staves under one
arm. Her graying hair bounced behind her in a tight ponytail as she
walked, her boot heels clicking against the flagstones.

She turned to face them, her face lean and
hawkish, scowling at the disorganized shamble the boys had made of
their line.