"I think they're really ready to kill each other," Keya continued. She turned to Galaeron. "And you're not helping matters. I know you and Takari have a past, but do you have to rub Kuhl's nose in it?"
"That's not the real trouble," Vala said. Even she did not question Keya's leadership; she simply turned to include the young elf in the conversation. "Kuhl's darksword has a history."
"A history?" Galaeron asked. "They all have histories."
"Not like this," Vala said. "Most of our darkswords have passed through the hands of five or six warriors, eight at most. Twenty-two have carried Kuhl's sword."
"Twenty-two?" Keya gasped. "That's one every five years."
The bearers are lucky to carry it that long," Vala said. "The first was Yondalla, who took the weapon up to defend her child from a flight of saurians. After, her husband began to grow jealous of the power she wielded. One morning, we found her floating in the marsh, and Gromb had the sword. When it was determined that he had killed her in her sleep, he tried to escape Bodvar's justice and used the darksword to slay two more warriors. The weapon was given to their eldest son, but he died a year later when a rock fell on his head while he was playing with his brothers."
"And Bodvar let the family keep such a sword?" Keya gasped.
"It was not his to take, and it would have come back the instant some relative of Yondalla's stretched a hand out and called to it."
Nor would they have dared destroy the weapon, Galaeron realized. Even he could not say what would happen if one of the blades was broken-nor how Melegaunt would have reacted. He nodded to Vala.
"You're right, we can't have them together-especially not during the battle."
"Ill dismiss Takari from the Cold Hand," Keya said. "She can go back to the Hidden Caves to help Dexon guard the children."
"If you dismiss her from the Cold Hand, you can't tell her to do anything," Galaeron said. "Do you really think she'd stay away from the battle?"
"Not likely," Vala said. "One of them must go with you."
"That's almost a death sentence," Keya objected. "Galaeron will be lucky to survive with his shadow magic."
"We will all be lucky to survive, no matter where we are," Vala replied, "and one of them is sure to die if we do anything else."
Keya considered that, then nodded.
"Galaeron should choose." She turned to him and continued, "Whoever it is will be fighting at your side. You should choose the one who will help the most"
Galaeron knew that Keya's suggestion-no, her order- made sense, but it felt like she was asking him to choose between Takari and Vala. He had already done that once, during the battle with the second Wulgreth, when he had been forced to chose between saving Vala's life and protecting Takari. He had saved Vala, and Takari had been terribly injured, and he did not ever want to make a decision like that again.
If he took Takari, he stood a good chance of losing her forever. If he took Kuhl, Vala would know he was saving Takari's life at the expense of one of her followers. While Vala had already made clear she would consent to the decision, he doubted she would ever forgive him for it
Galaeron looked back to Keya and asked, "Who's doing was this situation? Did Takari pursue Kuhl, or Kuhl-"
"That has nothing to do with your decision," Keya said. "Choose the one who'll be the most use to you."
"Kuhl's wound is not serious," Vala said, "and he will have his darksword."
"But Takari has fought at your side for twenty years," Keya said. "She will know what you are going to do before you do it"
Keya's argument made clear which choice she believed he should make-and Galaeron knew she was right Even without Kuhl's darksword, Takari would be better at watching his back, and he would be better at watching hers.
"Keya, you've grown too wise for one so young." Galaeron closed his eyes, then said, "Takari."
Keya laid a hand on his arm. "She's the best choice, Galaeron."
"Well start the shadow walk from here," he said. "It will give us time to prepare."
"As you wish. Ill send her along."
Before leaving, Keya stretched up to kiss his cheek, but missed because of the phaerimm disguise and got his chin instead.
"Soft songs, my brother."
"And light laughter, my sister," Galaeron said. "Father would have been proud."
"Of both of us."
Her eyes grew glassy and wet. She turned away and wiped them, then disappeared over the rim of the hollow.
Vala grabbed hold of Galaeron's ears, no doubt misled by his magic disguise into thinking she had taken him by his hands.
"No need to worry about your sister, Galaeron. Dexon has Burlen and Kuhl looking after her. 111 be there, too."
Then she'll be fine, I have no doubt," Galaeron said. "As long as my plan works."
"It will-/ have no doubt"
Vala leaned in, finding Galaeron's lips the first time, and kissed him long and hard-Vaasan hard. He wrapped his real arms around her waist and held her there until he began to grow dizzy from lack of breath.
When he finally let go, she stepped back and studied Galaeron with a raised brow.
"Never thought I'd do that."
Galaeron frowned in confusion, then realized she could not see his expression and had to ask, "What?"
Vala made a sour face and said, "Kiss a phaerimm."
She started after Keya, but stopped atop the hollow to look back over her shoulder.
"But I'm glad I did-and I'd have done it anyway, even if you had chosen Kuhl."
"Would you have?"
The question slipped out before Galaeron realized he was truly asking it, but he did not try to attenuate the doubt it implied. When it came to offending others, even those he loved, his shadow had made him fearless.
Vala's tone grew serious, though not angry. "I understand about Takari-I truly do."
Galaeron felt as though a knot in his chest had come undone.
"I'm glad," he said. "Thank you."
"No reason to thank me. I'd never want you to do some-thing that cold for me. I know I wouldn't for you."
Vala drew her sword and turned toward the Company of the Cold Hand.
Soot-starred and smoke-shrouded though it was, Cloud-crown Palace was the finest example of Evereska's naturist architecture that Aris had yet seen. From the slope below, where he was hiding in the trees at the edge of what remained of the forest that had once covered all of Cloud-crown Hill, the palace resembled a stand of bluetops packed so closely together that the huge boles had grown into each other. The scaling on the bark was so expertly done that even his practiced sculptor's eye would not have known it was stone, save for the handful of places where an enemy spell had actually penetrated the defensive magic and cratered one of the ancient towers.
The antimagic shell the phaerimm had erected around the palace was functional but artless, a bell-shaped dome of shimmering translucence that soared up from beneath the ground and vanished from sight a thousand feet or more overhead. Aris knew it had to continue far higher and curve inward to cover the tower pinnacles, but even his eyes were not keen enough to see a variation so subtle at such a great distance.
The thornbacks themselves were standing watch on the slope above, hiding among the tangles of blast-toppled trees that covered the hillside. So far, Aris located only three on this side of Cloudcrown, spaced at even intervals in a semicircle just out of arrow range. Their mind-slaves-and more than a few of their fellow phaerimm-lay scattered over the killing zones beneath the palace's hidden arrow loops, a decomposing testament to the ferocity of the battle that had ended in stalemate.
The undulating speck of a tiny finch rounded the palace wall at what would have been treetop height, had there been any trees still standing, then disappeared in the direction of the statue of Hanali Celanil. Though Aris had not yet visited that particular work, he had been assured by everyone who had that it was among the city's finest. Rumor had it that it was also as old as Evereska itself, which would make it one of the few surviving examples of high elven religious art from the Pre-Netheril period.