As Aimee drew Paulo out of the room once again, whispering of a light supper for later in the evening, Gerick sat on a footstool beside my chair and took my hand. Callused with his work in the Bounded, scarred by his years in Zhev'Na, his strong hand unraveled the knots inside me. After a while he closed his eyes. Frown lines about his eyes told me he was not asleep.
More than an hour later, a pale T'Laven, his narrow face glazed with a sheen of sweat and his skin showing the transparent aspect of a Dar'Nethi Healer who has expended every scrap of his gathered power, untied the strip of linen that bound his scarred arm to Karon's. I knew better than to question him right away. He had lived with Karon's disease for every moment of their link, delving deep into nerve and muscle and tissue seeking out the cause of the illness and the possible remedies for it. Dar'Nethi healing was a formidable calling.
After a short while, the slim Dar'Nethi sighed and raised his head. "It is as he has surmised. To heal such disease is beyond my skill and beyond my judgment. I do most sincerely wish I could say otherwise. With Master Karon's consent, I have temporarily severed the sensory pathways that cause him such distress, so that for the moment he may rest in comfort. He sleeps even now, and will do so for another hour or two. But you must know, my lady and good sir, that as long as I maintain this remedy, he will remain paralyzed, unable to move, unable to speak save with his mind. Only heavy enchantment keeps him breathing. He has no wish to sustain his life in this fashion, as I am sure you understand better than I, and so, at his sign, I will undo what I have done."
"And then?" I said, knowing what I would hear, and yet required to ask it in case the universe had taken a left turn and changed its villainous workings.
"He will die, my lady. Not in an hour or a day, but neither will it be so long as a week. Though I will offer what remedies I can, his death will not be easy, but it will be the way of his choosing."
T'Laven started to add something else, but seemed to think better of it. "If another alternative is available," he said, "Prince Ven'Dar must inform you of it. I will return tomorrow morning unless you summon me sooner." He bowed and left the room.
I told myself that I had expected nothing else, but, of course, I had. Gondai was a world of sorcerers. Avonar was a city of power and magic. Anything was possible.
Well, no more of that.
We ate Aimee's supper of cold roast duck, herb-buttered bread, and sugared oranges at Karon's bedside, I in the chair, Gerick and Paulo on floor cushions, and Aimee sitting on the footstool when she was not serving us with her own hands. Our attempts at whispered conversation flagged early on. No one wanted to risk disturbing Karon's sleep, and yet to leave his side was unthinkable. As Paulo followed Aimee out of the room, carrying our still half-filled plates, Ven'Dar returned.
"What news?" asked the prince, beckoning me from the doorway of an adjoining room.
I stood up and then hesitated. "Gerick, perhaps you should come—"
"I'll stay here," said Gerick, who had not spoken a word since T'Laven's verdict. "He oughtn't be alone when he wakes."
I followed the prince into the tidy, efficient study adjacent to the bedchamber.
"So what did T'Laven find?" asked Ven'Dar.
"Nothing more than we expected …" I told him all the Healer had said, including his enigmatic conclusion.
"Perdition!" Ven'Dar slammed his hand against the window frame and pressed his forehead to the glass. I had never seen him in such a temper.
"What is it, Ven'Dar? What remedy could you or T'Laven know that Karon himself would not? If you can make it any easier for him, we can ask no more."
"You could ask if I have done everything remotely possible. You so blithely assume such to be true. You think that because he is my friend, I would not allow him to suffer without offering every remedy."
"And would not my assumption be true?"
"No."
Ven'Dar turned his back to the window. In the dark glass gleamed the reflection of two tulip-shaped lamps of amber glass that hung from the high ceiling. They looked like the eyes of a great cat peering around the prince's back. I felt suddenly uneasy, my past experience of the conspiratorial Dar'Nethi undermining my trust.
"Then there must be some good reason for your withholding."
"I cannot see the Way."
"I don't believe that. If anyone among the Dar'Nethi can—"
"I've failed to mention certain alternatives for the same reason I came early to Windham. I need Karon's advice as to whether I should give up the throne of Avonar."
Chapter 3
"Her name is D'Sanya, and though she appears no older than Mistress Aimee, there are not five Dar'Nethi in all of Avonar who fail to believe she has lived more than a thousand years. And in five months' time, on the day appointed by the Preceptorate, I must yield the—"
"He's awake." Gerick appeared in the doorway from the other room.
"Go to him," said Ven'Dar, offering me a hand up from the couch where I had just settled. "The world will wait."
I hurried into the softly lit bedchamber, a thousand words of comfort ready. Yet once I'd knelt beside his bed, I couldn't think where to begin.
It's all right, love . He lay so pale and still, his eyes closed, a trace of a smile on his lips. One might think him already dead but for his words that shimmered in my mind and body, bearing everything of him. Comforting me. You know it's all right. I've been ready a long I time .
Unable to answer, I lifted his cold hand, so limp and I lifeless, kissed it, and pressed it to my brow. His chest I rose and fell almost imperceptibly.
I can't stay this way, you know.
"I know."
I miss not feeling things. Not the disease, of course. But I a lady's kiss . . . to do without for very long would be I dreadfully boring .
"Your imagination has always been excellent," I said, I smiling through my tears. Paulo came in and joined Gerick, who stood on the opposite side of the bed. "We'll just have to keep your mind occupied . . . until you're ready."
Not too long, I think. I'm not much use. . . .
"As a matter of fact, Ven'Dar came to Windham to ask your advice." I grasped at anything to stay the future. "Perhaps … He was just beginning to tell me about something astonishing. Would you like to hear?"
As someone very wise once said, "Nothing better to be at."
I laughed at hearing Paulo's favorite phrase so dryly echoed. Karon had clearly directed his reply to the other two as well, for a trace of a smile lightened Gerick's somber expression, and Paulo ducked his head and grinned, his cheeks blazing.
"I'll fetch Ven'Dar, and we'll make him restart his story."
When I stepped into the study, I discovered that Je'Reint had returned. Though I urged them to come in, the prince hung back. "Ah, no. To burden him in these last days . .'"
"He told me not two days ago that life was not done with him yet," I said. "Perhaps it is for exactly this. Let him help you if he can. He'll tell us when he can do no more."
And so we gathered at Karon's bedside—I in the chair, Gerick and Paulo close beside us on cushions, Ven'Dar on a backless stool, Aimee on a settle beside the door with Je'Reint standing beside her—and listened as Ven'Dar outlined his dilemma.
Gerick's face grew stony as the prince described D'Sanya's claim that she had been kidnapped as a girl and held in a prison of enchantment by the Lords of Zhev'Na, the three sorcerers who had rebelled against King D'Arnath and laid waste to nine-tenths of the lands of Gondai.