“Have one for me,” she said sleepily, voice muffled by her blanket.
When I drew closer to Shiv, I saw he was talking in a low voice with Tonin. The mentor had a small chest between his outstretched legs and I caught an unmistakable glint of gold in the magelight.
“Rysh.” Shiv looked up with a welcoming smile. “Can’t you sleep?”
“Not without my uninvited guest taking over my dreams,” I replied as lightly as I could.
“We’ve been discussing how to go about the scrying in the morning,” explained Shiv.
“Did you say you’d been dreaming of the colony again?” Tonin looked up, expression inquisitive, so I reached into his casket to forestall further questions.
“What are these?” I picked out a small brooch, dropping it instantly as a shock like the spark from cat’s fur stung my fingers.
“Some of the colony’s artifacts,” Tonin retrieved the ring with careful fingers and rolled it lovingly in a scrap of silk.
“What we need now is to find the people they belong to,” said Shiv, frustration lifting his voice loud enough to raise a few heads from their blankets.
“Do you think we could have a little less disturbance?” A waspish request came from a dark bundle and I identified it with some surprise as Viltred. I’d have thought the old wizard would have stayed on the ship, given a choice.
“Does anything strike a chord with you?” Tonin offered me the casket and I reached hesitantly for a plain gold ring, the kind that men at home still give their wives to mark their child’s first steps. Resting it in the palm of my hand, I tentatively loosened my hold on the bars that held Temar behind closed doors. Nothing resulted, leaving me feeling absurdly disappointed. I shook my head, more than a little mystified.
Tonin removed the ring and laid a chatelaine across my hand, the long chains jingling softly as the keys, knife and purse swung to and fro. Still feeling nothing, I handed it back and took the casket from Tonin. For the most part, it contained rings, some plain, others ornamented with enamel or engraving, a few heavy cabochons and more seals that must have been worn for generations before crossing the ocean in hopes of reaffirming their ownership. Faceted gems on rings and other jewelry shone soft and secretive in the fugitive moonlight. I reached down to find a slim dagger in an ivory sheath. A smear of brazing showed where the hilt had been repaired after that scuffle with Vahil, I noted, but otherwise the trifle that had betrayed Den Domesin’s noble birth was still an elegant piece. I smiled at the memory of Albarn’s chagrin when his pose as a yeoman’s son orphaned in the retreat from Dalasor had been so easily unmasked.
The fleeting moment was shattered as Viltred was seized with a paroxysm of coughing and Tonin turned to him hurriedly, helping him to sit upright.
“Viltred, are you all right?”
I looked around to see Tonin laying a concerned hand on the old wizard’s brow. Even in this dim light, his color struck me as unhealthy.
“What do you think?” The aged mage struck Tonin’s hand away crossly but was seized by a further fit of coughing that left him gasping, clutching his arms to himself.
“Take this.” Tonin ignored the old man’s irascible reply and held a small vial to his pallid lips. “Trust me, it was studying healing that first took me into investigating aetheric magic. I was to be initiated into the Daemarion conventual life until my father decided I should see a little more of the world before making such an important decision. I found I liked Vanam, you know, never seemed to find the right time to leave, got my silver ring, then the next project came along…”
The Mentor’s inconsequential chat made it impossible for Viltred to interrupt. Whatever was in the potion certainly eased the old wizard’s breathing and the knot of pain between his brows gradually loosened.
“I think we’d all better get some sleep,” said Tonin apologetically, repacking his casket with deft hands.
Shiv yawned and nodded. “I’ll see you in the morning, Rysh.”
I nodded and turned on my heel but did not return to my niche with Livak in the great hall. There was no way I could risk sleep again, not with every memory Temar had of this place awake and clamoring for my attention. I picked my way carefully through the sleeping figures and climbed up the wall to a ledge where I could rest my feet on an old and weathered corbel. Only I could also see it as it had been, a cheeky likeness of Den Rannion’s steward, his beak of a nose now reduced to a faint stump, hooded eyes mere blind hollows in the pitted stone. I drew a deep breath and settled myself to wait for morning. That would bring some surcease from all this, I swore to myself, else Planir would be facing questions on the point of my sword. Only it’s not your sword, I rebuked myself, it’s that lad Temar’s, and demanding answers with threats is his style, not yours. I hoped that was true, it was starting to become difficult to tell.
As the night wore on, I found some small measure of com-fort in the regular pacing of the sentries and their quiet exchanges as the duties were swapped. Eventually the sun came up with the rapidity Misaen had thought fit for this strange land and, from my vantage point, the daylight showed me our little troop gathered within the sheltering walls, surrounded on all sides by skeins of milky mist. Huddled shapes began to stir, crawling out of blankets to go to relieve themselves, to share a drink and low-voiced chat over a mouthful of flatbread. The last of the night watch rolled themselves gratefully in their cloaks, with hoods over eyes and genial curses for those talking too loudly nearby.
Jumping down from my perch, I headed for the Archmage as soon as he emerged from his tent, waving aside an offer of food from Halice as I passed her.
“How soon can you scry for these mines, Planir?” I asked without preamble.
“Just as soon as the necessary wizards have woken and broken their fast,” replied the Archmage with the faintest hint of surprise at my early appearance.
“Who do you need?” I was determined to get this masquerade on the stage as soon as all the fiddlers were together.
“Wake Viltred, somebody, please,” Planir commanded over his shoulder, his own eyes fixed on mine.
“I’m already awake, Archmage,” the old wizard said crossly, a steaming tisane in one hand as he rubbed the knotted fingers of the other against his arm as if they pained him. “What do you want me to do?”
“Scrying,” replied Planir tersely. “ ’Sar, where are you?”
“Here,” Usara yawned fit to crack his jaw and grimaced as he scrubbed at his eyes with a shaking hand. “Sorry, I rather overdid it yesterday, clearing that channel in the river bed.” He nodded a casual greeting to me but started visibly when I looked up to return it.
“What are you staring at?” I snapped.
“I think most of us find it rather disconcerting to watch the color of your eyes flickering like that,” Planir answered for Usara in level tones that nevertheless effectively silenced me.
“It is certainly an effect I’ve never come across in the written record, but then there was never any hint about this whole business with the dreams either.” Mentor Tonin arrived at my shoulder, busily lacing his ink-smeared jerkin before accepting an armful of parchments from an attentive pupil whom I identified as his protege, Parrail, a wiry-haired Ensaimin lad I’d have thought was scarcely old enough to be halfway through an apprenticeship, let alone wearing the silver seal ring that Vanam bestowed on its scholars. “Thank you for agreeing to undertake this scrying so early, Archmage. I very much appreciate the courtesy.”
“Where’s Naldeth?” Viltred looked around crossly and the brisk young mage pushed his way through the warriors with scant apology.
“Where do you want me?”
“I’ll need you to join the nexus.” Planir rolled up his sleeves as Shiv set a broad silver bowl nearly an arm’s length wide on a rough wooden table lashed from green timber. He poured plain river water from a skin and, with a snap of his fingers, the silver bowl was full of emerald light, the radiance illuminating a gathering circle of awed faces as the mercenaries looked on silently. I stifled an ill-tempered desire to tell them to lose themselves and take their ignorant curiosity elsewhere.