Returning to the baron, Jorani pulled out the vial he'd brought. "How is your strength?" he asked.
Peto managed to close both hands into fists, to whisper a word: "Better."
"Good. I've brought the strongest stimulant I dare use. Your life belongs to the fates." He sat next to the baron and poured the contents of the bottle into his mouth, then tilted his head back to help him swallow.
The baron's body trembled. He opened his eyes and focused on Ilsabet, standing frozen beside his bed.
"What have you done?" she whispered to Jorani.
"What my conscience demanded," he replied.
While the prey had fought in the room below, the spider had found a narrow space beside the ceiling lamp and slowly worked its way through the crack. It moved carefully over the brass cap and down the heavy chain. The prey stood below the lamp, smelling sweet, a fragrance the spider recognized from its days in the glass globe. It would prefer to hunt at night, but it was hungry, and food was near. Nonetheless, it waited until the room was nearly silent before letting out a strand of webbing and beginning its descent.
Hsabet stared at her child-Peto's child-crawling across the floor, and in that moment she loved him and hated him. As with Marishka, as with Mihael, as with Peto… If there were only a way to kill him… and then she noticed the spider falling directly above her son. Jorani had said the fates should decide. They seemed to have done so.
But she was not the only one that saw. With all the strength left in him, Peto pushed himself up and pointed to the spider. "No!"
Shaul saw it, too, and lunged. He reached the child a moment too late and, striking the web, collapsed lifelessly atop the babe.
Tears, the first real tears Ilsabet had ever shed, came to her eyes. She rushed toward her son, arms outstretched. "Forgive me," she whispered. "For a moment I forgot how much I love you." Quickly, she pulled a vial from a chain around her neck. "I'll bring you back to me," she said, and began to uncork it.
"No!" Jorani bellowed, his denial an echo of Peto's. In one deft movement, he snatched his sword from the floor… but in that same moment, Sagra grabbed up the child, ran to the door, and unlatched it.
"You don't know what she'll do," Jorani cried, then saw Lekai's hand move. The child was not dead; not yet. "Strip him!" Jorani shouted, looking in wonder at the thick shirt the boy wore.
As he spoke, a current of air from the door blew a web into his mouth. His knees gave way, and with an expression of shock Ilsabet knew all too well, he joined the other corpse on the floor.
"I won't allow this," Ilsabet whispered, kneeling beside Jorani. Using Shaul's cape to sweep the web from Jorani's face, she poured half her potion into his mouth. "I'll be a gentle mistress."
And then, life returned to Jorani's body. The limbs shook, the eyes opened, and with an expression of love such as had never appeared on that dour face, he kissed Ilsabet's hand.
"Run!" Peto shouted to Sagra, who yet tottered indecisively at the door. "Run!"
She obeyed, disappearing into the fog that had filled the hall outside Peto's chamber.
Ilsabet began to follow, but halted, her eyes fixed on the swirling mists. Marishka had suddenly appeared there, floating in the center of it, her incorporeal body supported by the long thin arms of the Seer.
"You cannot change my course!" Ilsabet screamed, then slammed the door. She turned to Jorani, who trembled, weak and confused. "It's not done, my mentor, my lover. This vengeance will be finished."
Her eyes were drawn to Peto, who clumsily fumbled for Jorani's sword. She hissed, grabbing the hilt and drawing the sword away, slicing open his palm. "It is not done yet."
Jorani took an unsteady step toward the baron, staring thirstily at the blood that dripped from his master's hand. Ilsabet smiled. There was poison enough in this room to induce another coma in her husband, but she now knew that as long as he lived, she would never rule in her own name. And, finally, she admitted that this was what she'd wanted all along.
She would have her rightful place as ruler of Kislova-not Mihael, not her son-herself!
"Feed," she ordered Jorani. "Take the blood you need from Peto, then kill him."
Without hesitation, Jorani turned toward the baron.
Somewhere in the depths of Jorani's eyes, Peto saw conflict, confusion. He tried to push Jorani away, but he could not. The Kislovan gripped his wrists and pulled them over his head as easily as if
Peto were a child.
"Jorani," Peto whispered. "Friend, don't do this." Only a hint of regret showed on the Kislovan's face as he bent to feed. Then the door swung slowly open, and fog rolled into the room.
THIRTY-ONE
From the Diary of Baroness Ilsabet
I waited long enough to be certain Peto was dead, then turned toward the open door. The fog was rolling across the floor. It had already covered Shaul's body and was moving toward the bed. There, Jorani sat, looking down at my husband as if he weren't certain he'd caused the terrible wound in Peto's neck. A moment later, the fog covered them both.
I thought of Lekai and made my way through the thick cloud to the nursery. Since I could scarcely see a foot in front of me, I traveled on memory. More than once I shut my eyes against the horrors the miasma displayed. I will not detail them now, only say that every ghost I'd glimpsed before took on greater clarity in the swirling tendrils until it seemed that they were the living creatures, my castle and myself the ghosts. I even saw my father, whole and alive, his expression condemning me as the others did.
It was a trick of the Seer's; a revenge for her death. I let her play her useless games, for I'd moved beyond caring.
The nursery was empty. I ignored my fury and felt my way down the stairs and out the doors that some fool-some traitor most likely-had left open, letting in the cursed cloud.
Jorani's horse was tethered to a post near the castle gates. Nearby, a stableboy cowered beneath a blanket. I pulled it back and crouched beside him. "Did you see my servant and my son?" I asked.
He trembled so hard that I had to slap him to get him to respond. "The people in the fog," he whispered. I repeated my question with greater force. "Sagra went out in the fog," he replied. ttI told her not to go, but she wouldn't listen."
"On foot?"
He nodded, and I let him cover his head once more. Truthfully, if not for my need to find Lekai, I would have gladly joined him.
Jorani's horse shied at my touch. Perhaps it too saw things moving in the fog-mountain cats, or cave bears, or fantastic creatures from equine nightmares. Even if I'd ridden, I could hardly have gone faster than on foot, and might easily pass Sagra by. With that thought, I ran through the gates, then continued on at a quick but quiet pace, listening to the sounds of the world around me-for my servant's quick breaths, or hopefully, my child's muffled cry.
There was nothing but the low, dense clouds pressing against me. I went on, hurrying as quickly as I dared, wondering if the miasma had been this thick when Sagra abandoned the castle. She would no doubt head for the path that climbed toward Pirie then turn west toward Sundell. I followed, but at the place where the drop to the river was steepest, I saw a patch of color against the dull brown road and went to it.
Sagra's russet cloak lay on the ground, and just visible beneath it were the bright blue pants and sweater Lekai had been wearing. Sagra had stopped to undress him. Then I remembered Jorani's words-Strip him! He must have been alive, or she would not have bothered.
"Sagra!" I called, then held my breath and listened.
Nothing, save the sound of the river fifty feet or so below me. I knelt and studied the bank. There were signs that someone had stepped off the side of the road and down the steep drop to the river. I looked closer at the road, but many people use it. If someone had waylaid Sagra here, I'd have no way of knowing.