"Fortunate that we reached here before nightfall," Lady Weston commented, inclining her head to the townswoman. "If you will tell us the layout of the area infested, we will decide our approach."
While the old lady proceeded to use a lot of words to say there were a few fields criss-crossed by hedges and the occasional line of trees, Kendall watched Captain Faille do his own bit of preparation. First he took off the coat, revealing a uniform fashioned of heavy black cloth reinforced with dark leather. Much more practical for fighting. Then he slid a long, thin sword from beneath one of the seats and strapped it to his back. His hair and eyes had gone grey again, and the fine rain spun about him and turned him into an insubstantial thing, a man of mist wearing night.
It was the first time Kendall had even seen the whole of the Captain’s face. He was more fine-boned than she’d expected, the jaw almost delicate, but his mouth was a thin, harsh stroke bracketed by bitter lines. There was something about his proportions, a stretching that went beyond long-limbed. He was very tall, and whip-cord muscular and…wrong to look at. Best of all, he had claws. Or, at least, nails which projected past the fingertip and finished in a point which looked sharp enough to cut. He, far more than Lieutenant Danress, really did look like he’d been fathered by something out of the Hells.
Not wanting to be caught staring, Kendall looked away, and felt her jaw sag. A woman had walked up the hedge-lined road, and had that moment reached the point where it opened up into the square. She was dressed for riding. Her hair was long and black and she wore a hat with ribbons trailing off the back. She saw Kendall staring at her and went still, then turned her head to one side as if considering a sudden retreat.
Captain Faille had caught Kendall’s change of expression. He pivoted on his heel, gazed at the only person standing in that direction, and said "M’Lady" in a warning tone, so that the Grand Magister and Lieutenant Danress turned. Kendall was very surprised when, after another moment’s hesitation, the black-haired woman began walking toward them.
"Child, is this–?" Lady Weston began, and Kendall nodded. "No coincidence at all, then." Lady Weston sounded dangerously pleased. After staving off the townswoman with a word, she went to meet the person who’d saved them all the trouble of hunting her down, Kendall and the Sentene in train.
"It seems the adage about no good deed going unpunished is a true one," the woman said when they were in earshot. The quizzical look she added sent a sudden rush of heat over Kendall’s face and throat. She hadn’t thought about it properly, but this woman had saved her life. She hadn’t gained anything out of that, had just done it for no reason that Kendall could see. In return, Kendall had put the Sentene on her trail.
That’s what you got for not minding your own business.
Still, she didn’t look too terribly upset, and was eyeing Lady Weston without any sign of dismay. "You have something to say to me?"
"I have a great many things to ask you, young woman," Lady Weston said, and Kendall blinked at the ice in her voice. "You will not deny foreknowledge of these events, I presume?"
"No."
"I wonder that you can admit it so calmly." Lady Weston did not at all resemble the relaxed gentlewoman Kendall had spent a day watching. Instead, holding herself very erect, each word clear and clipped, she was truly the Grand Magister, commander of Tyrland’s magical defences, and very angry indeed. She lifted a hand and one of her bracelets began to glow. As the air filled with a scent like overheated metal, Kendall saw there were sigils etched around the circle of silver. A hot wind swirled around the black-haired woman, who frowned and held on to her hat, looking none too pleased herself.
"Now," Lady Weston said grimly. "You will tell me who it is who has cast this Grand Summoning, where they cast it from, and how they reconstructed the spell."
The woman didn’t respond immediately, her dark eyes narrowed and her mouth turned down. Kendall could see the faint mist of raindrops turning to a haze of steam as they came close to her, and tried to guess at what exactly the spell did. Then the stranger let out a little tuh of breath.
"Solace Ariendal Montjuste-Surclere cast it," she said, her voice underlaid with irritation. "She cast it from the Summoning Hall, at the palace in Asentyr. As for reconstruction–"
She looked at the ground, and Kendall gasped, rocked back on her heels by a boiling gale which blasted out from the woman all the way across the square. Suddenly the horses were snorting and backing, the crowd was gawping inward instead of outward, and Captain Faille had somehow drawn his sword and had it at the woman’s throat.
The stranger shifted her eyes to him briefly, but remained facing Lady Weston. "You are over-hasty," she said. "And are asking questions to which you should already know the answers. This is no recreation. It is the first, the only Grand Summoning."
"But Queen Solace was killed," Kendall protested, when it seemed no-one else would speak. "The Prince killed her."
"Tiandel pushed her deep into the Eferum. That could have killed her, but it seems not, since she keeps coming back."
"Keeps–?" Lady Weston began, then stopped, and gestured for Captain Faille to move away his sword. "The White Lady phenomenon has each time been an expression of Queen Solace’s Grand Summoning?"
"At the earliest stage."
"The Summoning starts over?" Lieutenant Danress asked. "But, then, why has it not gone further until now? What’s different about this time?"
"It’s more what was different about last time," the woman replied, then glanced toward the fascinated audience along the fence. "You do know there’s a Kentatsuki roaming around over there?"
Both Sentene stiffened, their attention shifting firmly to the fields beyond the town.
"The breach here was larger than I was expecting, though only a few Eferum-Get passed through it," continued the woman steadily. "The next major one will be in Asentyr, the Temple District near the Devourer’s Shrine. Close to midnight, the third night from now." She turned, obviously intending to just walk away.
"Wait." Lady Weston was no longer angry, but there remained a great deal of command in her voice. "You haven’t told us what your involvement in this is. How do you know these things? What are you planning?"
"I plan to stop her, of course." The woman gave the faintest smile, as if she knew how unlikely that sounded, then added: "I’d appreciate you not interfering."
"Inter–" Lady Weston’s head came up, a combination of affront and amusement. "Where is your sense? If you speak the truth, then the best course is for us to join forces."
The woman shook her head, and started off. "All that would achieve would be to expose myself to attack," she said over her shoulder. "I can’t risk being too easy to find."
"M’Lady?" asked Captain Faille softly.
"Let her be." Lady Weston looked down at her hand, and Kendall saw there was a fresh burn mark around her wrist. The bracelet was gone. "Set one of the Ferumguard to follow her, though I doubt that will serve much purpose. She spoke the truth before she broke my injunction, so we have the information we needed, for what little good it does us. Nor can we neglect a Kentatsuki for a moment longer than strictly necessary. Go."
The Sentene strode off, and Lady Weston returned to the townswoman, rattling off a string of orders. Kendall, well aware that she’d ceased to be important as soon as she’d identified the black-haired woman, returned to the coach.