“Contaminated?” suggested Hugh.
Iridal flushed and bit her lip. Then, raising her head, she faced him with pride.
“I know you say that with contempt, but, yes, that is true. Can you blame us?”
“But it didn’t work.”
“The journey was difficult, and many died. More succumbed before the magical dome that protects us against the bitter cold and gives us air to breathe could be stabilized. At last all seemed well and children were born to us, but not many, and most of those died.” Her pride drained from her, her head drooped. “Bane is the only child of his generation left alive. And now the dome is collapsing. That shimmer in the sky that you find so beautiful is, to us, deadly.
“The buildings are illusion, the people pretend to be a large population, so that you won’t guess the truth.”
“You have to return to the world below, but you’re afraid to go back and reveal how weak you’ve grown,” finished Hugh. “The changeling became the prince of Volkaran. And now he’s going back as king!”
“King? That’s impossible. They already have a king.”
“Not impossible, madam. Your husband’s planning to hire me to get rid of their king and queen, and then Bane—their son—will inherit the throne.”
“I don’t believe you! You’re lying!”
“Yes, you believe me. I see it in your face. It’s not your husband you’re defending, it’s yourself. You know what your husband’s capable of doing. You know what he’s done and what you haven’t! Maybe it wasn’t murder, but he would have caused two people down there in the Mid Realm less pain if he’d driven knives into them instead of taking their baby.”
The dark, colorless eyes tried to meet his, but they faltered and fell. “I grieved for them. I tried to save their child ... I would have given my life if their baby could have lived. And then there are the lives of so many others—”
“I’ve done evil. But it seems to me, Iridal, that there is equal evil in not doing. Sinistrad is returning to conclude his deal with me. Listen to what he has planned and judge for yourself.”
Iridal stared at him, started to speak. Then, shaking her head, she shut her eyes and, in an instant, was gone. Her chains were too heavy. She couldn’t break free.
Hugh sank back down, alone in his cell within a cell. Pulling out his pipe, he clamped it between his teeth and glared at the prison walls. Walk the dragon wing.
If Sinistrad intended to startle him by his sudden appearance, the mysteriarch must have been disappointed. Hugh glanced up at him, but neither moved nor spoke.
“Well, Hugh the Hand, have you decided?”
“It wasn’t much of a decision.” Rising stiffly to his feet, Hugh carefully wrapped the pipe in its cloth and tucked it away near his breast. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in this place. I’ll work for you. I’ve worked for worse. After all, I once took money to kill a child.”
54
Wandered the corridors of the castle, idly wasting time, or so it seemed when anyone paid any attention to him. When no one was around, he continued searching, keeping account of everyone, as best he could.
The dog was with Bane. Haplo had overheard every word of the conversation between father and son. The Patryn had been caught off-guard by Bane’s strange question about the sigil. Scratching the skin beneath his bandages, Haplo wondered if the child could have seen the runes. The Patryn tried to think back to a time when he might have slipped up, made a mistake. Finally, he decided he hadn’t. It would have been impossible. What, then, was the boy talking about? Surely not some mensch wizard trying his hand at runes. Even a mensch had more sense.
Well, there’s no use wasting brain power speculating. I’ll find out soon enough. Bane—dog faithfully trotting along at the boy’s side—had recently passed him in the hallway, searching for Alfred. Perhaps that conversation will give me a clue. Meanwhile, there’s Limbeck to check up on. Pausing before the door of the Geg’s room, Haplo glanced up and down the hall. No one was in sight. He traced a sigil upon the door and the wood disappeared—at least to his eyes. To the Geg, sitting disconsolately at a desk, the door seemed as solid as ever. Limbeck had asked his host for writing materials and seemed to be absorbed in his favorite pastime—speech-composing. But Haplo saw that very little composing was being accomplished. Spectacles pushed up on his forehead, the Geg sat, head in hand, staring into a tapestry-covered stone wall that for him was a multicolored blur.
“ ‘My fellow Workers United . . .’ No, that’s too restricting. ‘My fellow WUPP’s and Gegs . . .’ But the High Froman might be there. High Froman, Head Clark, fellow WUPP’s, brother Gegs . . . brother and sister Gegs, I have seen the world above and it is beautiful’ “—Limbeck’s voice softened—“ ‘more beautiful and wondrous than anything you can imagine. And I . . . I . . .’ No!” He tugged violently on his own beard. “There,” he said, wincing at the pain and blinking the tears from his eyes. “As Jarre would say, I’m a drugal. Now, maybe I can think better. ‘My dear WUPP’s . . .’ No, there I go again. I’ve left out the High Froman . . .”
Haplo removed the sigil, and the door took shape and form again. He could hear, as he continued down the corridor, Limbeck reciting to his crowd of one. The Geg knows what he has to say, thought Haplo. He just can’t bring himself to say it.
“Oh, Alfred, here you are!” It was Bane’s voice, coming to Haplo through the dog. “I’ve been searching all over for you.” The child sounded petulant, put-out.
“I’m sorry, Your Highness, I was looking for Sir Hugh . . .” He wasn’t the only one.
Stopping at the next door, Haplo glanced inside. The room was empty—Hugh was gone. Haplo was not particularly surprised. If Hugh was even still alive, it was only because Sinistrad intended to make him suffer. Or, better yet, use him to make Iridal suffer. This jealousy Sinistrad was exhibiting over his wife was strange, considering he obviously didn’t care for her.
“She’s his possession,” said Haplo to himself, turning back down the hallway and heading for Limbeck’s room. “If Hugh’d been discovered making off with the spoons, Sinistrad would probably have been just as mad. Well, I tried to protect him. Pity. He was a bold fellow. I could have used him. Now, however, while Sinistrad is preoccupied with Hugh, would be an excellent time for the rest of us to leave.”
“Alfred . . .” Bane was speaking in sugared tones. “I want to have a talk with you.”
“Certainly, Your Highness.”
The dog settled itself on the floor between them.
Time to leave, Haplo repeated. I’ll collect Limbeck, we’ll get back to the elf ship and take it, and leave this mensch wizard stranded on his realm. I don’t have to put up with his meddling.
I’ll transport the Geg back to Drevlin. Once that’s done, I will have accomplished my lord’s goals, except for bringing him back someone from this world to train as a disciple. I’d considered Hugh, but he’s out, apparently. Still, my lord should be satisfied. This world is wobbling about on the brink of disaster. If all goes well, I can nudge it over the edge. And I believe that I can safely say that there are no longer any Sartan.
“Alfred,” said Bane, “I know you’re a Sartan.” Haplo came to a dead stop.
It must be a mistake. He hadn’t heard right. He’d been thinking the word and therefore heard it when in reality the boy had said something else. Holding his breath, almost wishing impatiently he could still the pounding of his heart so that he could hear more clearly, Haplo listened.
Alfred felt the world slide out beneath his feet. Walls expanded, the ceiling seemed to be falling down on top of him, and he thought for an awful, blessed moment that he might faint. But this time his brain refused to shut down. This time he would have to face the peril and deal with it as best he could. He knew he should be saying something, denying the boy’s statement, of course, but he honestly didn’t know whether or not he could talk. His face muscles were paralyzed.