The Office of Shadow (27 page)

"The events of the past year, however," Pact said, tapping his cane against
the edge of the table, "have demonstrated to the Crown just how crucial our
efforts are. And despite the objections of some members of Corpus, who believe
that what we do is unsavory at best and morally reprehensible at worst, Lord
Everess has convinced the queen that our work ought to continue."

Everess beamed. There was a time when Sela might have thought him a
fool for being so easily flattered, but she realized now that there was nothing
that Everess said or did that was not calculated. He was a fascinating man.

"I realize," continued Pact, "that the three of you have been kept mostly
in the dark as to what it is the Shadows actually do. There are two reasons for
that. The first is that we have strict rules about secrecy, and we do not discuss our missions, tactics, or strategy anywhere outside this building. There
are no exceptions to this rule. Thus, we could provide only the vaguest of
notions about what it was that you've gotten yourselves into.

"And the other reason," he said, not smiling, "is that if we had told you the
extent of our work, there's a chance that you wouldn't have agreed to join us."

Silverdun and Ironfoot chuckled, as did Everess. Sela, however, did not.
"That wasn't a joke," said Pact. The chuckles stopped.

"I will not equivocate," said Pact. "You will be asked to lie. To cheat. To
steal. To kill, when necessary. You will be sent to the most dangerous places
in the known worlds. If you are caught, we cannot in most cases admit publicly that we are aware of your existence. You will routinely be asked to perform duties that would be, to even the hardiest Fae soldier, impossible. And
in return you will receive a bit of money, but almost nothing in the way of
prestige, or honor. Quite the contrary, in fact; you may over time lose whatever sense of honor you once had."

"Somehow I don't see that being much of a problem for Silverdun over
there," quipped Everess.

Silverdun made an extremely rude gesture toward Everess. "Pray, continue," he said to Paet.

"In short," said Paet, clearly annoyed at the interruption, "you have been
conscripted into the most difficult career in all of Faerie."

"And after all this," said Ironfoot, "what if we decide it's not for us?"

"That is not an option," said Paet.

"You can't be serious," said Ironfoot.

"I am serious. I do not recommend that you test me on this. As a result
of your ... training at Whitemount, you are no longer permitted a life outside the Shadows."

"This is madness," said Silverdun.

"You've spent time at Crete Sulace, Silverdun," said Paet. "If you
decide life as a Shadow isn't for you, perhaps you could renew some old
acquaintances. I'm sure Everess told you when he approached you that
once you agreed to enlist with us, there was absolutely no turning back.
Did he not?"

Everess smiled a cold smile. "You wanted the best," he said to Paet. "I
got you the best. Sometimes certain allowances must be made in the
recruiting process."

There was silence in the room for a moment. Sela could feel Paet's fury,
and Ironfoot's astonishment. Everess was so good at masking his emotions
that very little trickled out into the extraordinarily thin thread between him
and Sela. Silverdun she still could not read at all. His mood, however, was not
difficult to fathom.

"Son of a whore," he muttered. "It's Mauritane all over again."

"For the time being," said Sela, "perhaps we ought to let Chief Paet continue. Whatever the future may be, we're all here now, and there is work to
be done. Is that not so, Chief?" As she spoke, she pushed hard against the thin
threads connecting her with Chief Paet and Ironfoot. She barely knew either
of them, so she had little to work with, but she wove as much trust and
acceptance into the skeins of those threads as she was able. It seemed to help
a bit. Ironfoot calmed perceptibly, and Paet appeared to relax as well. Silverdun was glaring at her. Did he suspect what she was doing?

Surely not. There wasn't anyone else in all of Faerie that could do what she did, as far as she knew. Empathy was only supposed to work in one direction: toward the Empath. But Lord Tanen had ensured that she was unique.

"We are," said Everess, trying to take control of the situation, "at a
watershed moment in the history of the Seelie Kingdom, and indeed of the
entire world of Faerie, if not the rest of the worlds to boot.

"Now is the time for boldness and decisive action," he said. "This is no
mere philosophical exercise. This is the future of the land. We are gathered
here to contend against the very destruction of our way of life. It may be that
we in this room are the ones who prevent that destruction."

Everess turned to Ironfoot. "Tell them what you saw at Selafae, Master
Falores."

"`Ironfoot' will be just fine, thanks," said Ironfoot. "And Everess has a
point. I've been at the center of what was once Selafae. If we can prevent
another attack like that one, it's worth all of our lives."

"It's difficult to sit in this cozy house and seriously ponder the fate of the
whole world," observed Silverdun. "And hardly a comfort."

"It is indeed difficult," said Paet. "You're absolutely right, Silverdun.
There is no comfort now. But there will be."

Paet looked at Silverdun. "What we do is difficult, and it is painful, and
it is deadly. But it gives us the power and the opportunity to make the
greatest difference that a single Fae can make in the world. To me, that's
worth it."

Paet stood, leaning on his cane. "So I ask you. No, I beg you. Join me in
this endeavor."

There was another silence. "Oh, why not? What the hell else have I got
to do?" said Silverdun. Everess laughed out loud, and Sela joined him. Ironfoot looked at Sela. His look said, What the hell have we gotten ourselves into?

Sela wished she knew.

"There's one more thing we must do tonight," said Paet. "The final step
in your initiation. Once it is complete, then I will personally complete your
training until I believe you are ready to be sent out on assignment."

"What's the final step?" asked Everess.

"That's between me and my Shadows," said Paet. "I'm going to have to
ask you to leave, Lord Everess."

Everess seemed about to say something unkind to Paet, but he
restrained himself. "I suppose it's good for you to have your little rituals,"
he muttered.

He walked to the stairs and saluted to Sela, Ironfoot, and Silverdun. "I
salute you, good Shadows. I bid you serve your kingdom well."

He nodded to Sela. "Have Paet call you a cab when you're finished with
whatever it is you're about. He'll pay." He went up the stairs, and his footsteps faded away above.

"Come into my office," Paet said.

Once everyone was inside, Paet closed the door behind them and locked
it. He took a small wooden box from his desk drawer and opened it, revealing
a simple metal ring lying on the box's velvet lining.

"Do any of you know what this is?" he asked. No one did.

"What does it do?" asked Sela.

"No one outside of this room knows of its existence," said Paet, "except
perhaps for Regina Titania herself; the claims of her omniscience are, in my
experience, not unfounded. This ring is part of what sets us apart from others,
and a part of our strength."

He held up the box to let everyone see it. There was nothing remarkable
about the ring at all. It was just a band of iron.

"This," he said, "is a binding ring."

Sela had no idea what this meant, but Ironfoot apparently did, because
his eyes widened. "Astonishing," he said. "I've read about these, but I never
knew they truly existed."

"The existence of things believed to be fictional is our stock-in-trade,
Ironfoot."

"What does it do?" repeated Sela.

"What its name implies," said Paet. "It binds us to one another, makes
it impossible for any of us to betray the others."

"But it's made of iron," said Ironfoot. "Are we supposed to wear one
everywhere we go?"

"No. You only need put it on once and say the incantation.

"Does it hurt?" asked Sela.

"Oh yes," said Paet. "Quite a lot."

"Well," said Silverdun. "We've come this far. What's one more bit of
madness?"

Paet took a pair of bronze tongs from his desk drawer and lifted the ring
out of its box. Beneath the velvet lining was a small slip of parchment, with
the Elvish incantation sounded out in Common. Silverdun read over the incantation, practiced it a few times, then held out the forefinger of his left hand.

"I'll go first," he said.

Using the tongs, Paet raised the ring over Silverdun's outstretched finger
and let go. The ring fell into place and Silverdun screamed. He jerked backward, stumbling against the wall, wringing his hand in pain.

"Say the incantation!" said Paet.

Silverdun rasped out the words; as soon as he finished, his body jerked
again. The witchlamps in the room dimmed briefly, and then Silverdun flung
the ring onto the floor.

"That was extraordinarily unpleasant," he said once his breathing slowed
enough for him to speak.

Ironfoot was clearly none too interested to go next, but a quick glance in
Sela's direction showed that some chivalrous instinct demanded that he precede her. Paet retrieved the ring from the floor with the tongs and repeated
the procedure on him. Sela instinctively dropped the thread joining Ironfoot
to her.

Ironfoot didn't scream; rather he growled low, like an animal, his face
red, and he hissed the words of the spell through gritted teeth. Again the
lights dimmed, and Ironfoot too flung the thing across the office, this time
directly at Paet, who quickly dodged it.

Silverdun clapped Ironfoot on the back. "Feels nice, doesn't it?"

Ironfoot grimaced. "The really painful part will come when he admits
that the bloody thing doesn't actually do anything."

"My turn," said Sela. Paet looked at her and hesitated. Then he offered
her the ring. After seeing what her two comrades had just suffered, the anticipation was growing unbearable, and she simply wanted to get it over with.

She held out her finger, and Paet dropped the ring on it.

It hurt. Very much. She did what was required, and hurled the ring as
far from her as possible.

"Are you all right?" asked Silverdun. She wanted to tell him that no,
everything was not all right, and would he please put his arms around her?

"I'll be just fine," she said.

Paet put the ring back in the box, and the box back in the drawer. He
regarded them with satisfaction.

"Forget what Everess said. Now you are Shadows. Now we are brothers
and sisters. We share a bond unlike any other.

"Now the work can truly begin."

"What about you?" said Silverdun. "Aren't you going to put it on?"

"I put it on a long time ago," said Paet.

Sela had hoped she'd get a chance to speak with Silverdun after the meeting,
but he seemed preoccupied, and Sela was so torn by her own confusion that
by the time she got up the courage to speak with him, she discovered that
he'd already gone home.

As promised, Paet hired her a cab and she went home alone, confused,
elated, worried. All of these emotions clung to her like one of the formal
dresses that Everess liked for her to wear: awkward, ill fitting, oppressive.

Everess was in his study when she arrived at Boulevard Laurwelana.

"Quite an evening, eh?" he said, looking up from his work.

"It was, at that," she answered.

"Well, go on up to bed," he said. "It's late, and I'm sure Paet has all sorts
of things to hurl at you tomorrow. Both literally and figuratively, if I know
him."

"Of course, Lord Everess."

After a moment Everess looked up and found her still there. "Yes," he
said, annoyed, "what is it?"

"You didn't tell us the whole truth," she said.

Everess leaned back in his chair. "You're right," he said. "I didn't. I'm
sorry."

"Apology accepted," said Sela.

She went upstairs to her room and lay on the bed, fully clothed. Ecara came to undress her, but Sela sent her away. She tossed and turned but
couldn't sleep.

About an hour later, there was a loud knock on the door downstairs. A
few seconds passed, and then another. Sela heard footsteps, the opening door.
She heard muffled voices. Quiet at first and then louder.

Sela crept out of her room and down the hallway. She stood on the
landing and peered over the banister that overlooked Everess's parlor. Paet
was here, pacing, while Everess sat in a wingback chair with a large goblet of
wine, watching him.

"Angry?" said Paet. "I'm furious!"

"Calm down, man," said Everess. "Have a seat. I'd offer you a drink, but
you've clearly had some on your own."

"You asked me for recommendations," said Paet. "I gave you a list.
Twenty-five names. Excellent candidates, chosen from within the Ministry,
the army, the Royal Guard. Any of those would have been perfect. But do I
get any of those?"