The Ursuper

The mage's agent studied Orrade, who had stripped off his disguise and bathed, and was now dressed in borrowed clothes that were too short for him. His clothing might be slightly absurd but his expression was intense.

Tyro glanced to Fyn. 'But can he be trusted?'

'I would die for Byren.' Orrade took a step forwards, his voice rich with repressed emotion.

Tyro was not impressed. 'So you say, but Fyn is asking me to make you privy to secrets that could be the death of us all.'

Orrade made an impatient gesture. 'What can I say to convince you?'

'Nothing you say could convince me. Normally the mage would have me test his tools, but…' Tyro studied him. 'I sense you have Affinity, so I can use a shortcut. Lower your walls and let me taste your essence. If it is pure, I'll trust you.'

Orrade swallowed audibly.

Fyn shifted. Since when had Orrade had Affinity? But he kept his mouth shut.

'Very well.' Orrade dropped his arms. 'Do it.'

Tyro gestured to a chair. 'Sit, otherwise you may fall. Fyn, come hold him.'

'No one needs to hold me.' Orrade went to the chair and sat down. 'I won't resist.'

Tyro ignored this and caught Fyn's eye. Following his unspoken instructions, Fyn came around to stand behind the chair, hands resting on Orrade's shoulders.

He felt the tension in Orrade's muscles and the force of his repressed Affinity. As Tyro approached, Orrade's body tightened further.

'Who says I can trust you?' Orrade asked, his voice light. At odds, Fyn could tell, with how he really felt.

The agent hesitated.

'I jest. Just do it.'

Tyro placed his fingers on Orrade's temples, much as a monk might do when he searched for Affinity. Fyn felt a rush of awareness. His mouth watered, his eyes stung, his breath felt sharp as winter air in his nostrils. And he recognised Orrade's essence. Byren's friend would die for him because he loved him.

Naturally, they all loved Byren.

Tyro stepped back.

'Satisfied?' Orrade asked, voice bitter.

'You've chosen a hard path.'

'We don't choose our paths, they choose us.'

'Too true.'

Fyn didn't understand. 'What — '

The agent turned away. 'Isolt is to be married to Palatyne the day after tomorrow.'

Fyn cursed. 'Couldn't you… couldn't Lord Dunstany stop it?'

Tyro glanced to Orrade, then back to Fyn. 'With the king near death, Dunstany has lost power. He tried to delay the wedding but the Utlander stepped in and took over.' Tyro smiled grimly. 'He should have encouraged a quick marriage and then the Utlander would have delayed it just to spite him.'

Fyn stepped in front of him. 'We must contact the mage to ask his advice. Send one of your Pica birds.'

'By the time the bird reached him, Isolt would be married,' Tyro said. 'We are on our own.'

Fyn stared at him.

'I am the mage's agent and apprentice. He trusts me. You should too.'

Fyn nodded. But Tyro was not much older than Byren.

He went to run his hand through his hair and discovered he had none. That's right, he'd had to assume a monk's disguise, at Tyro's suggestion.

What could he do to save Isolt? Knees weak, Fyn sank into a carved cedar-wood chair beside Orrade. Everything was richly decorated, from the mosaic floor to the gilt and plaster ceiling. But what good was wealth if they did not have the mage to guide them? 'What about King Merofyn? Couldn't Lord Dunstany warn him about Palatyne's plans?'

'The king barely knew his own daughter. I fear the Utlander has weakened his mind to such an extent that Merofyn will never recover his wits.'

'Then we have no choice.' Fyn sprang up and prowled the length of the room. He came to the window, which looked up at the palace far above. The wyvern padded after him, her claws scraping on the mosaic floor. She rested her chin on the window sill and whimpered, almost as if she knew Isolt was at the palace. Fyn empathised with the Affinity beast and rubbed behind her horn knobs. The wyvern had nearly died to save Isolt. He would do no less.

A rush of conviction filled him. 'We can't let the marriage go through.'

'We can't let Palatyne execute Byren, and he will if we make a move against him,' Orrade said. 'That cage — '

'I already have a copy of the key. That's not the problem.' Tyro crossed to take a chair at the table, opposite Orrade.

Fyn joined them. 'Freeing Byren isn't enough, Orrie. Palatyne has been feeding the Merofynians a pack of lies. They believe he is their saviour and Byren is a threat.'

Orrade bristled. 'It's Palatyne who's the ambitious coward, not Byren.'

Tyro lifted his hands. 'The mage says what is written in history books is only the victor's version of the truth.'

Orrade laughed. 'I like this mage, already.'

Tyro looked away.

The foenix flew over to settle next to Tyro's chair.

'He misses Piro,' Fyn said.

The Affinity beast turned his head inquisitively to one side, much as Piro often did.

Tyro stroked the foenix's neck.

'Can't you foresee a way to reveal Palatyne's real nature?' Orrade asked Tyro.

'The past is like a road unfolding behind us, but the future is unwritten. The day of the wedding has solidified as a nexus point, the focus of many possible paths. Piro's Affinity gives her visions at nexus points.' Tyro's fists closed in frustration. 'Palatyne made sure Lord Dunstany can't get near her.'

Orrade cleared his throat. 'Ah… I get Affinity visions. Mostly they are just flashes of danger that seem to make no sense. They make my head ache so badly I can hardly think.'

'Any headaches now?' Tyro asked with a half-smile.

'None.'

'Then we are lost,' Fyn whispered.

'Not at all,' Tyro corrected. 'We must force Palatyne to reveal his true self. Fyn, I'll give you the key to Byren's cage. Dress as a player, so you can get close enough to free him. Tell him not to move, until he gets the sign. We'll have sea-hounds throughout the crowd, ready to act.

'Fyn, your part is crucial. After Palatyne marries Isolt, there will be speeches. Lord Dunstany will speak. When he rises, throw off your disguise to reveal yourself as one of Halcyon's monks, eager for revenge. Attack King Merofyn, but don't kill him. Palatyne will be right beside the king. We need to give people the time to see what Palatyne does. He'll make no attempt to defend Merofyn, because I know for a fact that Palatyne means to kill him. Isolt will spring to her father's defence. Take her captive, Fyn. Threaten, but don't hurt her. Byren can save her from you.

'This will give Byren a chance to win the people's love, while revealing Palatyne's true nature.'

Fyn nodded to himself. It seemed like a good plan.

Orrade cleared his throat. 'In my experience, plans never go the way you expect. There are too many factors beyond our control.'

'I know,' Tyro conceded. 'We'll have to adapt as things happen. But we must reveal Palatyne's true nature and give Byren a chance to clear his name.'

'Agreed.' Orrade glanced to Fyn, then back to Tyro. 'What of Fyn? You say his part is crucial. He could be killed.'

'Lord Dunstany will be there. He'll protect Fyn.'

'I don't mind taking a risk for Byren,' Fyn insisted. As long as Isolt was safe. He licked his lips. 'But what of the Utland Power-worker and the mystics from Cyena and Mulcibar Abbeys?'

'They are the factors we have no control over,' Tyro admitted. 'It could get interesting.'

Orrade laughed. 'That's one way of putting it.'

Fyn smiled. He'd missed Orrie.

'Right.' Orrade sat forwards. 'I'll watch Byren's back. Lord Dunstany will watch Fyn's. Who will make sure Piro is safe?'

'As far as Palatyne knows, Piro is a lowly slave girl,' Tyro said. 'If she keeps her head down, she's safe.'

Fyn said nothing. Since when could you rely on Piro's discretion?