In the end, the two Matrell women had to ride on the cart, sitting on Lobra, who was pinned under a blanket beside the still-unconscious Grolo. Along with Edilus, they looked like some sort of traveling carnival, and a dirty one at that.
As they set off, Pilos suddenly remembered. "Em," he said, pulling a satchel out from under the seat of the cart. "I think these are yours."
Emriana eyed the bag in puzzlement for a heartbeat, then her expression brightened immeasurably and she grabbed at it. "Hetta!" she cried, digging into the satchel. Finding the ring, she slipped it onto her finger and turned all her attention to something unseen. Pilos smiled, happy to have cheered the girl. After a moment, she removed the ring and held it out to Xaphira, who stared at it with wariness. "Go on, take it," Emriana said. "She wants to speak with you."
Gingerly, Xaphira took the ring from her niece's hand and slipped it on. Her eyes glazed over and she stared at nothing, and Pilos knew she was in silent conversation.
Emriana leaned forward and gave the young priest a tight hug. "Thank you," she said. "Thank you for bringing her back to me."
Pilos smiled. "It was more like her bringing me back, but you're welcome."
The girl dug around in the satchel some more, then gasped in delight as she pulled out her opal pendant. "I can contact Vambran!" she exclaimed, slipping it over her head.
Emriana took hold of it to make use of its magic, but Xaphira reached out and stopped her. "Wait," she said. "Wait until after everyone has heard each other's stories. He'll want to know as much as we can tell him."
Emriana frowned for a moment, then nodded. "All right," she said, tucking the pendant away.
They rode on in silence for a time, partially because it seemed to Pilos that Emriana did not want to talk, but also because he was concerned that palace guards or the city watch might still be looking for them. At one point, Xaphira turned to Emriana and said, "Quill is dead." Pilos watched as her niece reached out and took Xaphira's hand, squeezing it in a comforting manner, but Pilos wasn't sure from the older woman's expression whether she was grieving or gratified. She remained silent for the rest of the ride.
The united group succeeded in reaching the Darowdryn estate without further trouble. As they rolled through the gates of the estate and word was sent ahead that they had arrived, Pilos felt himself finally relax. He could sense the others reacting the same way. At the front steps of the house, Ariskrit immediately took control of the situation, sending servants scattering in every direction and ordering every one of the new arrivals into baths and clean clothes. There were no complaints.
After everyone refreshed themselves, the entire group convened to discuss events. Pilos stifled a big yawn as he waited for everyone to gather in his family's sitting room. He had been one of the first to arrive.
Long night, he realized. When was the last time I slept? He realized it had been the night before the last, and fitfully at that. When Mikolos died, Pilos remembered, feeling his throat constricting in sorrow. Has it only been one day?
The Abreeant felt much better, though, even if he was tired. A hot bath and clean clothes could do wonders for a person who had been nearly stabbed, drowned, and shot at numerous times throughout the day and night. Everyone else who drifted into the room looked better, too, though Emriana still had that strange, haunted look on her face. It troubled Pilos, but he resolved to give her whatever time she needed and not press her about it. She'll tell me when she's ready, he told himself.
The sitting room quickly became crowded as everyone packed in. In addition to himself, Uncle Tharlgarl, and Ariskrit, Pilos counted Emriana and Xaphira, Horial, Adyan, Grolo-looking much better after substantial healing-and Edilus, and a pair of House guards sitting on either side of a still-confined Lobra.
Ariskrit cleared her throat and everyone grew silent. "Well, now," she said in a bemused tone. "It seems that a few of us have had a rather interesting evening. Lots of news to share and plans to be made. But before we begin, let me just say that House Darowdryn has always been and will continue to be staunch allies of the Matrells and their associates. Let that never be in doubt." She looked pointedly at Emriana and Xaphira, and the grand dame sent an icy stare toward Lobra, who sniffed. Pilos wasn't buying into the woman's airs, though. She looked beside herself with apprehension.
She knows she's in a pickle, the young priest thought.
In turn, everyone told their stories. Along the way, there were more than a few gasps and murmurs, and when Emriana described how she had come to be free of the mirror, she seemed to leave a large gap in the tale. At one point, she had to stop and clutch at her aunt's hand, but she got through her part of things without ever revealing what Pilos was beginning to suspect was the reason for her demeanor.
When everyone had explained their adventures, and after considerable back-and-forth questioning, the room fell silent.
"All right," Ariskrit said, turning to look at Lobra. "Let's see what you have to say." She gestured for the two guards to remove the woman's gag. Once she was free to speak, she looked around the room, her expression sullen. "You might as well go ahead," Ariskrit said. "We'll beat the truth out of you eventually, but you can spare yourself quite a bit of misery by just spilling it now. And don't think we won't know if you lie. We've got plenty of enchantments to reveal falsehoods. Well?" she demanded and tapped her toe.
Lobra, still looking sullen, finally began to speak. "My husband did most of it," she said. "I was too distraught with family deaths to participate much."
"And is it true that your husband has been conspiring with House Talricci and the newly appointed Grand Syndar to bring about all this chaos?"
"I suppose so," Lobra muttered.
"Speak up, girl," Ariskrit demanded, crossing over to where Lobra was restrained. "Your mother isn't here to see this, rest her soul, but if she were, I'm sure Anista Pharaboldi would be more than a little upset with your antics of late. Now then, did your husband conspire with Grand Syndar Lavant and Grozier Talricci to start a war?"
Lobra began sniffling then, all of her stoicism lost. "Yes!" she blurted. "Yes! They wanted to corner the lumber market! And they wanted House Matrell out of the way while they did it! I went along with it because I was so angry with the Matrells for what happened to my brother and mother! Falagh hates you all so much, and I just learned to hate you, too." At that point, she broke off speaking and sat there, looking miserable.
For a moment, Pilos started to feel sorry for the woman, for it seemed to him that she had been manipulated by others into her participation. Emriana stood up, walked over to Lobra, and glared at her. Then, out of nowhere, she smacked the sniveling woman. And it was no slap, but a full-on, hand-balled-into-fist punch in the mouth. The blow knocked Lobra backward with a grunt.
Everyone in the room gasped in surprise and began to talk at once. Xaphira jumped up and grabbed Emriana, pulling her back, while Lobra, chastened, stared at the floor, a trickle of blood running from the corner of her mouth. Whatever sympathy Pilos had felt for the woman before, it was gone with that outburst. Emriana didn't say anything as she was led back to her seat, but she continued to glare at Lobra for a long time.
Once calm had been restored, Ariskrit turned to Pilos. "Do you think the other priests of the temple would be interested in hearing what our dear Lobra has to say?" she asked.
The Abreeant nodded. "I don't think they'll be too happy with their new Grand Syndar," he said. "The Waukeenar are not in the business of starting wars for profit," he said firmly.