“I don’t believe you!” Iridal clasped her hand over the feather amulet. The Kenkari stood by, exchanging eloquent glances among themselves, but doing nothing, saying nothing.
“Of course, the amulet,” said Haplo grimly. “Just like the one he used to wear when he communicated with Sinistrad. That’s how Bane found out you were coming. You told him. You told him you were bringing Hugh the Hand. Bane arranged the capture, set the trap. Right now, he and the assassin are on their way to murder King Stephen and his queen. Hugh’s been coerced into going along with the plot because he thinks they’ll kill you if he doesn’t.” Iridal held onto the feather amulet tightly.
“Bane, my child,” she called. She would prove Haplo lied. “Can you hear me? Are you safe? Have they hurt you?”
“Mother? No, I’m fine, Mother. Truly.”
“Are they holding you prisoner? I’ll free you. How can I find you?”
“I’m not a prisoner. Don’t worry about me, Mother. I’m with Hugh the Hand. We’re riding on a dragon. The dog, too! Though I had quite a bit of trouble getting the dog to jump on. I don’t think he likes dragons. But I love them. I’m going to have one of my very own someday.” A moment’s pause, then the childish voice, slightly altered. “What did you mean about finding me, Mother? Where are you?”
Haplo was watching her. He couldn’t possibly hear what Bane was saying; her child’s words came to her mind magically through the amulet. But the Patryn knew.
“Don’t tell him you’re coming!” Haplo said to her softly. If Haplo is right, then this is all my fault, Iridal realized. Again, my fault. She shut her eyes, blotting out Haplo, blotting out the sympathetic faces of the Kenkari. But she took Haplo’s advice, though she loathed herself for doing so.
“I’m... I’m in a prison cell, Bane. The elves have locked me in here and... they’re... giving me a drug...”
“Don’t worry, Mother.” Bane sounded cheerful again. “They won’t hurt you. No one will. We’ll be together soon. It’s all right if I keep the dog, isn’t it, Mother?”
Iridal removed her hand from the feather amulet, smoothed it out with her fingers. Then she glanced around, took in her surroundings, saw herself, standing in a prison cell.
Her hand began to tremble; tears shimmered, dimmed the defiance in her eyes. Slowly, her fingers released the feather.
“What is it you want me to do?” she said in a low voice, not looking at Haplo, staring at her cell door.
“Go after them. Stop Hugh. If he knows you’re free, knows you’re safe, he won’t murder the king.”
“I’ll find Hugh and my son,” she said, her voice shaking, “but only to prove you wrong! Bane has been deceived. Evil men, men like you—”
“I don’t care why you go, Lady,” Haplo interrupted, exasperated. “Just go. Maybe these elves”—he glanced at the Kenkari—“can help you.” Iridal glared at him, hating him. She turned to the Kenkari, regarded them with equal bitterness. “You’ll help me. Of course you’ll help me. You want Hugh’s soul. If I save him, he’ll come back to you!”
“That will be his decision,” said the Keeper. “Yes, we can help you. We can help both of you.”
Haplo shook his head. “I don’t need help from—” He paused.
“Mensch?” finished the Soul, smiling. “You will need a means of reaching the dragonship that is carrying the dwarf to her death. Can your magic provide it?”
Haplo looked grim. “Can yours?” he countered.
“I believe so. But first, we must return to the cathedral. Door, you will lead.”
Haplo hesitated. “What about the guards?”
“They will not trouble us. We hold their souls in thrall, you see. Come with us. Listen to our plan. You must at least take time to heal yourself completely. Then, if you choose to go on your own, you will be strong enough to face your enemies.”
“All right, all right!” snapped Haplo. “I’ll go. Stop wasting time.” They entered a dark tunnel, lit only by the iridescent glow of the strange robes worn by the Kenkari. Iridal paid little attention to her surroundings, allowed herself to be led along, neither seeing nor caring. She didn’t want to believe Haplo, couldn’t believe him. There must be some other explanation. There had to be.
Haplo kept close watch on Iridal. She did not speak a word to him when they arrived at the cathedral. She did not look at him or acknowledge his presence. She was cold, withdrawn into herself. She answered the Kenkari when they spoke to her, but only in polite monosyllables, saying as little as possible. Has she learned the truth? Was Bane smug enough to tell her or is the child continuing the deception? Is Iridal continuing to deceive herself? Haplo eyed her, couldn’t guess the answers.
She hated him, that much was obvious. Hated him for taking her child from her, hated him for making her doubt her son.
And she’ll hate me far more if I’m right, Haplo thought. Not that I blame her. Who knows how Bane would have turned out, if I’d left him with her? Who knows what he would have been like without the influence of his “Grandfather”? But then, we would have never found out about the Kicksey-winsey, discovered the automaton. Funny how things work out.
And it might not have mattered anyway. Bane will always be Sinistrad’s son. And Iridal’s son, too. Yes, you had a hand in his upbringing, Lady, if only by withholding your hand. You could have stopped your husband. You could have taken the baby back. But you know that now, don’t you. And, maybe, after all, there wasn’t anything you could have done. Maybe you were too scared. Scared like I’m scared, scared of going back into the Labyrinth, too frightened to help my own child...
“I guess we’re not much different, you and I, Lady Iridal,” he told her silently. “Go ahead and hate me, if it makes you feel better. Hating me is a hell of a lot easier than hating yourself.”
“What is this place?” he asked aloud. “Where are we?”
“We are in the Cathedral of the Albedo,” answered the Keeper. They had emerged from the tunnel, entered what looked to be a library. Haplo cast a curious glance at several volumes bearing what he recognized as Sartan runes. That made him think of Alfred and he recalled another question he wanted to ask Lady Iridal. But it would have to wait until later, if and when they were ever alone. If and when she would speak to him.
“The Cathedral of the Albedo,” Haplo repeated, musing, trying to recall where he’d heard that before. Then he remembered. The taking of the elven ship on Drevlin; the dying captain; a wizard holding a box to the captain’s lips. The trapping of a soul. Now more of what the Kenkari had said was making sense. Or maybe it was the fact that the pain in his head was subsiding.
“This is where you elves keep the souls of your dead,” Haplo said. “You believe it strengthens your magic.”
“Yes, that is what we believe.”
They had passed through the lower parts of the cathedral, come to the crystal walls that faced out over the sunlit courtyard. All was peaceful, serene, quiet. Other Kenkari padded by on slippered feet, making graceful reverences to the three Keepers as they passed.
“Speaking of souls,” said the Keeper. “Where is yours?”
“Where’s my what?” Haplo couldn’t believe he’d heard right.
“Your soul. We know you have one,” the Keeper added, mistaking Haplo’s incredulous look for one of indignation. “But it is not with you.”
“Yeah? Well, you know more than I do,” Haplo muttered. He massaged his aching head. Nothing at all was making sense. The strange mensch—and these were undoubtedly the strangest mensch he’d ever come across—were right. He was definitely going to have to take time to heal himself.
Then, somehow or other, he’d steal a ship...
“Here, you may rest.”
The Kenkari led the way into a quiet room that appeared to be a small chapel. A window opened onto a beautiful, lush garden. Haplo glanced at it without interest, impatient to complete his healing and be gone.