"I guess," Kendall said unenthusiastically. She hadn’t been entirely convinced that silly woman was really involved at all until one of the Ferumguard – the Sentene’s outriders – had returned from Morebly with a blank scrap of paper. Lady Weston said the writing must have been conjured, so it couldn’t be used to trace her, even if she was close enough to trace. "I don’t see how we’re going to find her, though. She’s long gone. Are you going to collect all the black-haired girls in Tyrland for me to look at?"
"Not that improbable an idea," Danress replied. "All the black-haired mages, at least. We will certainly be combing the Register for anyone who fits the description you gave."
"What about the White Lady? You saw her up close, didn’t you? Lady Weston didn’t recognise her?"
"No. And she’s certainly distinctive. An outland mage, perhaps? It’s more than confusing, because the White Lady sightings have been occurring for centuries. The most recent was in Loise, almost sixty years ago, but there was no expansion in any of the previous cases. It’s a greatly confusing thing to discover this White Lady is related to the Grand Summoning – they’ve been occurring innocuously for so long that we have no explanation as yet."
Lieutenant Danress sighed, then moved back to watch Lady Weston doing nothing visible. It was almost full dark now, the moon not yet risen, and the night broken only by the lanterns held by the militia and Ferumguard. Kendall shook her head, tried not to think about Night Roamers, and went to sit in Lady Weston’s carriage.
She didn’t want any part of this, and maybe would have taken the chance of ditching the Sentene once they reached Sark if not for the memory of Ma Lippon’s face as she herded her brood down the road toward Morebly. Lippons had been living in Falk since forever, just like the Stocktons. Ma Lippon might’ve been bossier than anyone could care for, so sure she knew what was right. But Kendall would no more have seen her turned out of her home than she would have struck the sun from the sky. Ma Lippon belonged in Falk, and Falk wasn’t there any more.
Kendall made a practice of looking after herself, of not poking her nose into other people’s doings. This wasn’t her business. Not her job to fix wrongs or try and protect kingdoms. Not her problem if the Lippons no longer had a home to go to.
But if she had the chance she’d point out the woman who knew about the Grand Summoning, all the same.
Chapter Five
There was something more than strange about Captain Faille. Kendall hadn’t noticed anything except his weird voice during the fuss and turmoil of evacuating Falk, but this morning in Sark she’d seen that his hair was blond not grey; a pale, clear yellow like wine. Or so she’d thought, but inside the carriage it had looked grey again, transparent and faded. It was very fine, reminding Kendall a little of feathers: short, soft and following the shape of his skull. When they had the door closed and no handy magelight uncovered so that it was all gloom inside, it had been hard to see him at all. Unlike Danress with her bright hair, he faded most completely into his corner, till only the Montjuste Phoenix reminded Kendall anyone was there at all.
Kendall had been debating whether it was only imagination when one of the Ferumguard knocked on the outside of the carriage, and the driver drew them up. Both Sentene got out to see what was going on, and Captain Faille paused a moment just outside the door to say something to Lady Weston. Kendall could only stare, for his hair was most definitely blond now, sunshine gold, and his eyes were yellow disks, the pupil drowned. Lit from within, like there was a candle inside him.
That certainly wasn’t imagination, though Kendall rubbed at her own eyes as if that would change what she’d seen. She glanced surreptitiously at the Grand Magister, who had been busy making notes in a journal, but must surely have seen it as well.
"Lady Weston?"
"Yes, child?"
"Why does Captain Faille keep changing colours?"
The Grand Magister hesitated, though she didn’t seem surprised. "Faille has, quite a number of the Sentene have non-human ancestry. Have you heard of the Kellian?"
The word was vaguely familiar. "Wasn’t that the name of the Black Queen’s bodyguards?"
"Just so. They were a magical construct, a variation of a flesh golem. Their descendents are rather more human, but retain many of the properties of the Kellian. It makes them ideal for dealing with strays from the Eferum, for those creatures are difficult to find or combat without the ability to sense Efera in some form. Others among the Sentene are descended from higher Eferum-Get."
Kendall was incredulous. "Stalkers can have children? With people?"
"Not those particularly. Most Eferum-Get have little intelligence, and the Life Stealers don’t even have any substance. Stalkers are monstrous animals. But occasionally something different emerges into our world. These are not unlike humans. Travellers, they’re known as. They appear in our world for only a few days, and have a tendency to take an interest in, ah, willing females. Danress is a grandchild of one such as this."
"Really?" This was the last thing Kendall would have expected of the freckled and carrot-topped Danress.
Lady Weston laughed at her. "Truly. Indeed, some argue that all with mage talent could unearth Eferum-Get in their family tree, if only they looked back far enough. For Danress, it is merely fewer generations."
The carriage door opened again, and Lieutenant Danress climbed in, looking entirely human even in her impressive uniform. Captain Faille remained standing outside, his eyes small suns.
"A messenger sent to intercept us, M’Lady. There’s a sighting outside a town east of here. At least two Escaton-types."
"We’ll divert," Lady Weston said immediately.
Captain Faille nodded, and closed the door again. The carriage shook as he climbed up with the driver, and then they started off again.
"The first incursion brought on by the Summoning?" Lieutenant Danress asked.
"Very likely. Prepare yourself, Jolien. Escaton are not to be taken lightly."
The Lieutenant nodded, then drew a hinged book of slates out of her coat and opened it. She spent the rest of the journey drawing chalk symbols and making them glow. Lady Weston took another slate-book out of her bag and filled it with tiny, precise writing but not making it glow. Kendall sat taking up seat-space, wondering if Escatons were something other than Night Roamers, since Night Roamers just didn’t come out except at night, and trying to decide whether she could really herself be just a little bit not human. It would be interesting to be a person who messengers rode furiously to fetch. How good a mage would she have to be, to become a Sentene? And how silly would she look in that coat?
It had grown overcast by the time the carriage drew to a halt, and a fine misting rain was keeping everything in whatever town this was damp. A far bigger place than Falk, with a lot of dark stone crawled over with ivy. The carriage had drawn up in the centre of a cobbled, lichen-spattered square and when Kendall jumped down she could see the main part of the town to the right, and to the left a hedge-lined road. Straight ahead was a stone wall topped with a spiked fence, along which stood a row of musket-men with their guns trained on the fields. Guns, even magicked ones, were said to be not very effective against Night Roamers, but a whole row of them might be worth trying. A great heap of other people were confident enough to crowd to either side of them, peering through the fence.
"Thank you for coming," said a round, elderly woman, moving toward them among a group of town guard. "They were sighted several hours ago, and went to ground almost immediately. One we inadvertently flushed while putting up a cordon, but we did not pursue and have not seen it since, so we do not think it moved far."