The Dragon of Despair (80 page)

“But of what?” Elise said impatiently. “We don’t know enough to act. Edlin and Peace could be dead. Xarxius has sent a bread and butter note saying that he will take up the matter of Citrine with his ruler. Do we stay and try to confirm that Edlin and Peace are out of our reach? Do we risk ourselves again in those tunnels?”

Elise paled as she made this last suggestion, but Derian felt only admiration for her. It took a lot more courage to suggest doing something that scared you than to do as Firekeeper had done and charge in confident of your own strength and invulnerability.

Firekeeper, too, seemed to recognize this, for she said:

“Going again be stupid. It stupid to go first time. It lose us Edlin and Peace. The second time was purer stupid. I nearly lose us me.”

She didn’t look as if she expected either praise for admitting her own fault or reassurance. Nor was she wallowing in self-pity. This was just a blunt admission of fact.

“No. We not go there again. Still, I not leave without knowing what happen to Edlin and Peace. If they live, they live expecting us.”

Wendee spoke quickly. “I agree with Firekeeper. I just can’t believe in my heart of hearts that Edlin is dead. Selfishly,” she gave a self-deprecating smile, “I can’t bear the idea of going back to the North Woods and telling Duchess Kestrel that I don’t know whether her grandson and lineage heir is living or dead.”

“I agree with Wendee,” Doc said. “House Kestrel has been good to me. I owe them at least confirmation of Edlin’s status. The question is what do we do?”

Derian had been thinking about this and was about to outline a proposed plan of action when Elise spoke as authoritatively as if she were Grand Duchess Rosene.

“We concentrate on the problem that we can deal with,” she said. “Citrine. Xarxius may or may not successfully plead our cause to the Healed One. I am comforted that we know our advocate is a man with a sense of justice, but that does not mean his master is one as well.”

“Or,” Wendee added tremulously, “that if he is that Consolor Melina’s influence will permit him to be so.”

“Right,” Elise said, nodding crisply. “Doc, how long will Firekeeper be bedridden?”

“Several days, if I have my way,” the knight said in a tone that left no doubt that he would. “Blind Seer broke none of her bones when he dragged her, but those muscles he tore will mend better if she isn’t pulling at them.”

“Fine,” Elise said. “Do you have a problem with Firekeeper being outside as long as she isn’t walking?”

“No…”

Doc looked rather uncertain, and Elise hastened to explain.

“I want Firekeeper to coordinate some of her bird friends to pin down where Citrine spends her days. It will be easier to do so if Firekeeper isn’t inside.”

“That’s fine with me,” Doc said, “if Firekeeper promises to give her parole.”

Firekeeper clearly had no idea what the word meant, but she was still smarting from his earlier scolding and promptly replied:

“If I am not to walk I not walk, run, or even crawl.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Doc said with a slight smile.

“Firekeeper,” Elise said, “can you get the birds to work with you?”

“Bee Biter will,” Firekeeper said with that hesitancy she always showed when asked to turn her Royal allies to human cause. “I cannot promise other.”

“It’s a start,” Elise said. “I know you don’t like doing this, but the rest of us cannot poke around asking questions. It would have been hard at the best of times, but the last several days have not been the best. The embassy was attacked again—nothing more serious than a few broken windows, but Ambassador Redbriar is adamant that we take precautions.”

Wendee nodded.

“I’m already paying one of Hasamemorri’s maids to do most of our shopping,” she said, “and Oculios has said it is no longer safe for him to bring his goods here but insists that we send someone to fetch them.”

Firekeeper looked worried. Derian suspected that she was thinking of how some of the Beasts were already looking for any excuse to reopen their abandoned war with humanity. Such a use of the wingéd folk could be considered cause.

“I will do my best” was all she said.

Elise smiled briefly, then returned to explaining her plan.

“Meanwhile, I want Derian and Wendee to put together packs and things so that we can get out of Dragon’s Breath quickly.”

Derian grinned at her.

“My thought exactly,” he said, quite pleased. “We’re suspicious characters now. We can’t expect an easy escape.”

“Or any escape at all,” Doc added. “That’s what worries me. I wish we could relocate to outside the wall of the city. This last escapade of Firekeeper’s makes us even less secure than before.”

“I’m working on that,” Elise said, her grin nearly as bright as Derian’s had been. “I think we may ‘quarrel’ with our landlady. I want to make certain that we have somewhere relatively safe to go when we do. I’m going to put Ambassador Redbriar to work on the matter. This is one case where the unrest in the local population may work to our favor. It makes sense that we move.”

“It sounds good,” Doc said, speaking for them all. “A well thought-through plan. You reminded me of your father as you spoke.”

Elise acknowledged Doc’s praise without the faintest blush and Derian wondered a trace sadly if she had ceased to care for Doc. He hadn’t thought the end of that ill-omened romance would make him grieve, but the thought of it did.

“I had to do something,” Elise replied practically, “while you and Firekeeper slept out the day.”

“Night again now,” Firekeeper said, dropping a hand to scratch Blind Seer behind one ear. What she added next made Derian wonder if she had been injured more severely than even Doc could diagnose. “I wonder where the comet is and what it sees.”

“XARXIUS IS TRUSTWORTHY,”
said Columi the day after Toriovico had sent him on his mission, “at least as far as I can tell, that is. I’ve sounded him out and he loves Consolor Melina even less than I do.

“Of course,” the Lapidary went on, suddenly dubious, “Xarxius could be playing a very deep game. He could want to lead me on to my own destruction. Still, from what he said, he doesn’t think Consolor Melina’s ambitions are focused on what will bring the best for New Kelvin—rather for herself with New Kelvin as the horse she’ll ride to some other goal. New Kelvin’s good is her good—but only for as long as she needs it. Then she’ll let us founder.”

Toriovico nodded. He’d allowed Columi to run on, though he longed to get to the point. He could see that the emeritus Prime was still overcharged with the latent tension of his mission.

“I doubt,” Toriovico said a trace dryly, “that we can count on Xarxius making a more open declaration. Indeed, I’d trust him less if he did so, for such might be a trap. I will meet with him. Happily, he has already given me a good reason. Citrine Shield’s guardian has requested her return. Xarxius brought the matter to me rather than to Melina.”

“And have you mentioned this request to Consolor Melina?” Columi asked, his eyes round in apprehension.

“No,” Toriovico replied. “I have not. Therefore, I may act on the matter as I see fit without risking that the lady will think her hold on me weakening.”

Columi looked uncertain as to what Citrine’s fate might have to do with their larger problem. Toriovico chuckled.

“Come with me,” he suggested. “All your questions will be answered and it is time we took a risk or two.

“Besides,” he added darkly, “if something happens to me, it is better that there be those ready to carry out my plans.”

THAT XARXIUS FOUND BOTH TIME
and privacy to meet with them might simply have been an indication of his respect for the Healed One. Toriovico chose to be encouraged to think it rather more. After all, Xarxius was skilled in the intricate games of trade and politics. He was not likely to have missed Columi’s probing.

“The reason for this council,” Toriovico began after the necessary formalities and rituals that hobbled even the least meeting were concluded, “should any inquire, is bound within veils of secrecy. If pressed, you may hint that I sought your mutual advice on an appropriate Harvest Festival gift for my wife.

“Recently,” Toriovico went on, spinning the cover story as if it were a tale, “I have been consulting with Columi as to an appropriate gift for Consolor Melina. Knowing her fondness for gemstones, taking one of our greatest and most senior Lapidaries into my confidence was only reasonable. We examined several possibilities before Columi had a brilliant idea.”

“I did, Honored One?” Columi said amused.

“You did,” Toriovico said with solemnity. “You recalled the rumors that Waterland was offering potentially magical artifacts for trade. We then decided to consult Xarxius, who—other than Dimiria of the Stargazers—would have the best idea of what precisely is offered for sale and whether among those items is one which would delight my wife.”

Xarxius nodded slowly.

“And so here we are,” he said, “but from how you began this speech, I think you have more than gift shopping in mind.”

Toriovico nodded, running his hand through his hair, thinking with the incongruity that so often interrupted serious matters that soon it would be time for the hairdressers to highlight the rich green with yellow and orange.

“I do,” he said. “Several days ago, you brought to me a request from Lady Archer of Hawk Haven requesting assistance in assuring the return of her ward, Citrine Shield. I have reflected on that matter and have decided that Citrine should indeed be returned to those who have legal right to her.”

“You have, Honored One?” Xarxius said. “And have you spoken to Consolor Melina about the matter?”

“I have not,” Toriovico said, “nor will I. You see, Xarxius, there will be a price for the child’s return, and I do not think her mother will approve.”

Both Xarxius and Columi were listening with active interest, neither holding enough pieces of the puzzle to guess where Toriovico was headed. Still, neither was looking as if he had suddenly gone insane.

Torio was relieved. The Healed One took more interest in government than many who viewed his position from outside the system realized—indeed, more than many inside realized. They chose to see his attendance at meetings as largely ceremonial rather than functional.

This was how it should be, for such little deceptions permitted the Healed One to fulfill his inherited mission of keeping certain lines of research in check. Yet it had the drawback that when the Healed One must act as a ruler rather than a figure of awe and majesty, some found the transformation as shocking as if a trained dog had risen onto its back legs and started giving commands.

But neither Xarxius nor Columi seemed inclined to shock or confusion, and Toriovico permitted himself to marginally relax.

“I have reason to believe,” Toriovico said, “that Consolor Melina is involved in some complicated plot whose end result would not serve to the long-term benefit of New Kelvin.”

He went on then to brief Xarxius as to Melina’s disappearances, the inspection of her soiled robes, the research he had done in the Restorer’s writings and which Columi had supplemented. When Xarxius listened thoughtfully, asking no more questions than were absolutely necessary to clarify some point, Toriovico went on to explain why he had kept his suspicions secret.

“First,” he said, “I would know what my wife does, the better to prevent some future action along similar lines. Second, I cannot speak too publicly of my fears for I do not know who she has in her hold. Third, having been in her hold myself, I have no wish to be made her slave again. Too public speech would risk that. Sadly, Healed Ones have been known to go insane. Consolor Melina has read enough of our history to learn that. She would have ample allies to support her claim that I had merely suffered a lapse of my mental faculties—and I fear that as soon as she worked her charm on me I would be among those most heatedly supporting her claim.”

Xarxius nodded slowly.

“You have planned well and carefully, Honored One, and I am deeply grateful that you have taken me into your trust. May I ask what—other than Columi’s word—made you do so?”

Torio smiled, a grim and wistful expression.

“I recalled your daring to speak out against Melina’s wishes when others enthusiastically supported her. I recalled, too, how often you kept from her presence. Your role as Dragon’s Claw explained some of this, but when my mind cleared I was able to consider how much your travel away from the capital had increased of late. Most pointedly, I recalled—then confirmed from observation—how you avoided meeting the lady’s gaze, though normally you are fond of using your own forlorn visage to great advantage.”

Xarxius bowed his head in acknowledgment.

“I can only pray that the lady herself was not so observant. Past evidence shows that she can overextend her power over others and that her arrogance is such that she does not notice.”

Toriovico felt rather hurt, as if Xarxius was dismissing the usefulness of his own carefully maintained charade. Xarxius did not miss the change in the Healed One’s expression and hastened to explain.