"Name of Ils, Mother-the Stepsons' pet mage is trying to recruit him." Wedemir's black brows nearly met as he frowned. "What do you expect me to do?"
"Stay with him! Protect him!" Gilla said fiercely. She began sweeping again with long, hard strokes, as if she could thrash out all her fears.
"He's not going to like me tagging after him-"
"Neither of you will like it if he runs into danger alone...." There was a sudden heaviness in the air. Gilla heard a faint "pop" and turned, the rest of her words dying in her throat.
Above the kitchen table hovered a sphere of darkness, scintillating with flickers of cobalt blue. As she stared, it quivered and began to drift, still expanding, toward the studio. The floor shook as Gilla started toward it.
"Mother, no!" Wedemir's chair crashed behind him as he tried to get around the table, but Gilla was already standing between the Sphere and the studio door.
"Get out of my kitchen, you demon's fart!" She jabbed at the Darkness with her broom and it recoiled. "Think you'll get my Lalo, do you? I'll show you!" The Sphere stilled as she spoke Lalo's name, then suddenly enlarged. Gilla blinked as colors swirled dizzyingly across its slick surface.
"By Siveni's spear, get you gone!" Gilla recovered herself and struck the Sphere with her broom. The stiff straw faded as if she had shoved it into a murky pool, then the shaft started to disappear too. Her screech of outrage was swallowed as the Darkness engulfed her. She heard the second "pop" of displaced air, and all sense of direction and dimension disappeared.
"Papa, are we going to stay here long?" Latilla looked around the courtyard of the Palace, whose usual splendor was muted by the rain, and pressed closer to Lalo.
"I hope not, sweetheart," he answered, scanning the arches of the cloister anxiously.
"I don' like it," Alfi said decidedly. "I want Mama. I want to go home. Papa, will Mama be back soon?"
"I hope so...." whispered Lalo. His eyes blurred with something more than rain as he knelt to hug both children close against him, finding some deceptive comfort in the warmth of their young bodies. He and Gilla had made these children between them. She couldn't be gone!
"Father, Wedemir told me what happened! What are we going to do?"
Vanda was hurrying toward them with her older brother behind her, her bright hair coming undone from its Beysib coiffure.
"I'm going to get Gilla back," Lalo said harshly. "But you'll have to take care of the little ones."
"Here?" She looked around her dubiously.
Wedemir cleared his throat. "They may not be safe at home."
Vanda frowned. "Well, we already have some other children in quarters in the basement-that child of the Temple they call Gyskouras, and Illyra's boy-it's a regular nursery. Maybe I can work something out ... oh, of course I'll take them!" She scooped Alfi into her arms. "Just find Mother!" She stared at Lalo over Alfi's dark head, her grey eyes so much like Gilla's that something twisted in Lalo's chest.
"I will ..."he managed, and could say no more.
Vanda nodded, shifted Alfi onto her hip and reached out for Latilla's hand. "Come on, levies, and I'll show you some pretty things."
"Toys?" asked Alfi.
"Toys, and other children, and everything ..." Van-da's voice faded as she went under the archway. Then she turned a corner and was gone. --
"At least it was convenient to drop them here," said Wedemir dryly. "Exactly where in the Palace did that mage tell,you to go?"
"I'll have to ask at the wicket. It's like the Maze inside...." Lalo sighed and splashed across the courtyard.
Behind the wicket at the Gate was a little room where litigants had waited to be called to the Hall of Justice in the days when the Prince still pretended to govern Sanctuary. Lalo settled onto one of its inadequately padded benches and closed his eyes. Instinctively he reached out for that current of awareness that linked him to Gilla, but there was nothing there. He had never realized how essential her presence was to him.
Gilla-Gilla! his heart cried, and he did not realize that he had moaned aloud until he felt Wedemir patting his arm.
"You have decided to come to us after all! What is wrong?"
Lalo's eyes flew open. Randal the Mage with his clothes on was an altogether more impressive sight than the man who had borrowed his cloak in the tavern. In this setting, even his freckles seemed less visible.
"Something tried to get him and took my mother by mistake," said Wedemir accusingly. "A black globular sort of thing-it just materialized in the kitchen, and she was gone!"
"A kind of bubble shot with flashes of blue light?" asked Randal, and Wedemir nodded. The mage chewed his lip for a moment, then grimaced. "It sounds like Roxane. She has a habit of kidnaping people, and right now she's hellbent on revenge against anyone connected with Molin Torchholder or Niko...."
Randal's voice had softened as he spoke the mercenary's name, and Lalo sensed the complex of frustrated love, longing, and loyalty that explained why the mage had handled Niko's portrait so reverently. But Lalo could hardly worry about Randal's feelings now. He had heard too many tales about Roxane....
"But why take my mother if she wanted Lalo?" asked Wedemir.
Randal looked at the limner sympathetically. "The witch didn't expect you to give any trouble or she would have come herself. The Sphere was a Carrier, set to react to your identity. And your wife spoke your name-"
"But she must realize her mistake by now. Why hasn't she let Gilla go?"
"Roxane plays for points," said Randal gently. "As long as the woman's no trouble, she'll keep her, maybe use her as a hostage to compel you ..."
No one needed to detail what could happen if Roxane got tired of her captive. Lalo jerked to his feet and Randal pulled him back with surprising strength.
"No, Lalo-Roxane has no honor. You could not be sure of saving your wife even if you offered yourself in her place. To strike against the sorceress is the only way!"
Lalo sank back onto the bench and covered his eyes.
"Are you with us then. Limner?" asked Randal softly.
"I'm with you," interrupted Wedemir, "if you'll teach me how to fight!"
"That can be arranged," said Randal. He waited for Lalo's answer.
"Help me free Gilla and show me how to protect those who depend on me," the words were dragged from Lalo's lips, "and yes, I'll do what I can to help you."
Gilla sneezed, heaved herself upright, and sneezed again. Something round and hard was digging into her side. She looked down, saw a skull, and jerked away. So much for the comfortable conclusion that she had been having a nightmare. She still gripped her broom, but she was not at home; no one had cleaned this place for quite a while.
"Ah-fat lady wake now? Fat lady sleep hard; Snapper Jo was lonely!"
Gilla stared. The voice which had uttered these words of welcome was very deep, with a kind of curdled quality that made her think of the bottom of a vegetable bin that had been left alone too long. For a moment her eyes struggled to sort through a confusion of piled boxes and dusty hangings, then she focused on a shape that was tall, and gaunt, and gray. It made a gurgling sound that could have meant anything, and lit a lamp.
Gilla blinked. The creature's general grayness was more than compensated for by a pair of purple pantaloons and a shock of orange hair. He treated her to a sharp, snaggle-toothed smile.
"Fat lady talk to Snapper Jo now?"
Gilla cleared her throat. "Does this place belong to you?"
"Oh, noooo-" The warts on his gray skin seemed to crawl as Snapper Jo glanced fearfully over his shoulder. "Great Mistress rules here! Great Lady, very beautiful, very strong ..." He ducked his head with a kind of fearful reverence.