Tamlin stared at Vees for a long while. Cale noticed for the first time how much the gray in his hair had multiplied.
Cale said, "I like this not at all, my lord. From what I have heard of the Shadovar, they are not trustworthy."
"I have heard the same of priests of Mask," Vees said.
Cale rose, shadows bleeding from his skin. Tamlin laid his hand on Cale's forearm.
"Please, Mister Cale. We are all tense."
Cale glared into Vees's smug face, at his dull eyes and weak chin. Vees only smiled.
Tamlin said, "I fear we are in no position to be selective in our choice of allies."
"I have found them trustworthy, Deuce," Vees added, and looked at Cale. "For whatever my word is worth."
"It is worth much," Tamlin said.
"I will get us aid elsewhere," Cale said suddenly.
Vees scoffed. "From where? We stand alone. Only the Shadovar have stepped forward to offer aid. Tamlin, I can arrange a meeting as soon as tomorrow."
Cale did not like the eager undertone to Vees's words.
"The nobility around Saerb and near the High Dale," Cale said. "They will rally to Endren Corrinthal."
"Endren Corrinthal is rotting in the Hole of Yhaunn," Vees answered. "He is a murderer. And honestly, what are we talking about here? The northern nobility are little more than retired old men and their house guards."
Cale knew Talendar was at least partly correct. Merchants, not soldiers, retired upcountry. Still, it was a better course than an alliance with the Shadovar.
"I would wager Endren is no more a murderer than we are traitors," said Cale. "Mirabeta Selkirk arranged all of this, built one lie on another. I will get Endren out of the Hole. The northern nobility will answer his call."
Tamlin sat up in his chair. "You can do this?"
Shadows leaked from Cale's flesh. "I can do it."
He would need help, but he knew where he could get it.
"Then do it," Vees said, and turned to Tamlin. "But Deuce, do not let the possibility of aid from one quarter dissuade you from aid from another."
"You seem eager to put the Shadovar before the Hulorn," Cale said, and shadows swirled about him. "Too eager."
Vees glared unadulterated hate at Cale. He touched his throat as if something hung from it, though there was nothing. "I am eager to save our city, Erevis Cale."
Before Cale could respond, Tamlin said, "How soon can you arrange the meeting, Vees?"
Vees said, "As early as tomorrow."
"Do so," said Tamlin. "I want to hear what the Shadovar have to say. Mister Cale, it will take you days, perhaps tendays, to arrange a rescue of Endren Corrinthal. I need to-"
Cale shook his head. "No. I will have him back in Selgaunt within two days."
Tamlin stared at him, agog. So did Vees.
"You cannot," Tamlin said.
"I can and I will," Cale vowed.
"Good-bye, then, Mister Cale," said Vees.
Cale had had enough of the twit and his smug tone. He stood, took Talendar roughly by the shirt, lifted him from his chair, and steered him from the parlor over his protests.
"The hulorn is tired from the day's work, Lord Talendar. Begone from here."
Vees resisted but his strength was no match for Cale's. Cale deposited him in the hallway, said, "See yourself out," and shut the parlor door in his face.
"You are unnecessarily harsh with him," Tamlin said. "I do not approve."
"He is a fool and dissembler. I do not approve of that."
Tamlin, perhaps too tired to argue, merely took another gulp of wine. Cale stared at him, trying to frame in his mind what he wanted to say. Tamlin anticipated his words. "Do not bother to try to dissuade me, Mister Cale. My mind is made up."
Cale started to speak but Tamlin interrupted him.
"Do you not see what will happen here? If we do not get assistance, Mirabeta's forces will take the city. We are too few. We will die. Perhaps not you, since you can vanish into the shadows, but I, and the rest of the Old Chauncel. And all for what? So she can hold power? I did not ask to stand in her way."
Tamlin's words surprised Cale. They sounded as timid and self-absorbed as something he might have said years ago.
"We do not always get what we ask," Cale said. "And this is not about you, Tamlin. This is about the city, about Sembia."
About Magadon, he thought, but did not say.
"No!" Tamlin said, and slammed his hand on the table. Wine sloshed over the brim of his goblet and stained the tabletop crimson.
"This is about me, because I will hang if we are taken. Not you. Me. Do you understand?"
Cale stared at Tamlin. He could see the younger man was in deep water and unable to swim. "I understand too well. You are afraid."
The words caused Tamlin to redden but he nodded. "Yes, very well, I am afraid. I do not want to die." He looked at Cale, anger in his eyes. "But you are not afraid, are you? No, of course not. The fearless Mister Cale, the competent Mister Cale, the Mister Cale my father always respected and loved more than his own son, the Mister Cale who vows to pull a man out of the Hole of Yhaunn."
Cale heard years of resentment bubbling up in Tamlin's tone. He took a deep breath and spoke calmly. "You are fatigued, my lord. You should rest now. Things will appear different in the sun."
Tamlin rubbed his temples. "I am going to meet with the Shadovar, Mister Cale. If they offer military assistance, I will give them whatever trade concessions they wish."
"You should not. They are not to be trusted. Vees Talendar is not to be trusted."
"Why should I not trust the Shadovar?" Tamlin said, with rising anger in his voice. "Because some of them are shades? So are you. Because they use shadow magic? So do you."
Cale drew himself up and said, "The difference, Tamlin, is that I serve you and by extension, the city. They do not."
"Do you?" Tamlin snapped. "Do you, really?"
Cale held his anger in check but the shadows leaking from his skin betrayed him. "I will return with Endren Corrinthal. Do what you will with the Shadovar. If you need me in the meanwhile, reach me via magical sending, as you did before. And understand something, Lord Uskevren. I have been afraid, for myself, for my friends, for my family. But I do not let it overwhelm me or cloud my judgment."
Tamlin seethed and waved Cale out.
Cale turned and left the parlor, left Tamlin, and after gathering his gear, left Stormweather Towers.
My boat cracked on the rocks… how long ago? I do not know. It could have been months. It feels like months. I know only that I must keep moving toward the wall. The fears are behind me, hard on my heels. My use of the river has opened some distance but not enough. I can feel them behind me in the woods, stalking me.
Sweating, gasping, covered in dirt, I dash through the forest. Limbs slap my face. Welts cover my exposed skin. I trip repeatedly but rise each time and run onward. The smell of brimstone is so intense that I cannot escape it, but I have become inured to the stink. I notice it, but it no longer bothers my lungs.
Behind me, the fears howl, one, another, another. They are unrelenting.
I scramble up a tree-lined slope… and stop in my steps.
An open, grass-covered plain stretches before me for maybe a fifth of a league. If ends at the wall. I did not know I was so close.
The dark edifice rises from the plain and stretches to the sky.
Thin cracks line its face. Black smoke leaks from them. To my surprise, ice rimes the cracks.
Abutting the wall, at its base, is a small stone structure. It looks much as I imagine the cell in which I awakened must have looked. Like the wall, it is composed of dark stone. It features only a single, windowless door.