"Jassion, what…?" Even at a whisper, her fury and her confusion-and yes, her fear-were palpable.
"I do not," he said harshly, "appreciate being used, Mavere."
"I don't know what you've done to him," she began, eyes flickering to the man at her side, "what spells you've cast on him, but-"
"No spells, Salia. No tricks, no sorcery. You said that you had knowledge of magic when we last spoke. Take a good look at him."
She shrugged, wincing as the movement scraped the skin of her throat across the blade. "Wouldn't help. Illusions I can detect; they're visible. If I could sense spells of the mind, I'd have discovered all your puppets in Guild ranks long ago." Her voice seemed almost wistful at that.
Corvis frowned, but it made sense.
"And I cannot," she added, "think of anything other than the most potent magics that would inspire Lord Jassion to cooperate with you."
"You should have thought harder then," Irrial interjected, sliding the latch home on the door and stepping into the center of the room, "before starting all this."
The Guildmistress looked from one to the other, saw no pity anywhere. Corvis could see in her expression that she was weighing the odds if she called for the guards.
"You'd be dead before your voice reached them," he warned. Her shoulders slumped.
"Where's Kaleb?" she demanded.
Jassion smiled shallowly. "I'm sorry, I don't know who you-oh. Perhaps you mean Khanda?"
So stiffly did Salia tense that Corvis had to yank Sunder back a hair to avoid cutting her. "How did-?"
"What were you thinking, you stupid bitch?" Irrial and Corvis exchanged worried glances, concerned that Jassion's own temper might alert the guards, but so far the baron was managing-albeit barely-to keep his voice low. "How could you use me that way? How could you unleash something like that creature on your own people?"
"I assure you, Khanda is completely under control."
"Not for long," Corvis told her. Then, at her expression, "You asked what could inspire Jassion and me to work together? That'd do it, wouldn't you think?"
"It's not possible. Jassion, whatever Rebaine's told you, it's a lie. He-"
"Is more convincing than you. Especially given what I've seen recently." Then, though it clearly cost him, he forced his voice, his expression, to calm. "Mavere, I only saw the aftermath of the Twins' rampage through Mecepheum, but you were present for all of it. You've seen what creatures of such power can do-and you've seen how little we can do to stop them. We know some of what Khanda plans, and I assure you, if he succeeds you'll wish you'd died back then."
"It's a lie," she insisted stubbornly.
"Perhaps you'll want to ask Nenavar about that?" Corvis suggested. Again, standing so close, he couldn't possibly miss the tension that ran across Salia's body like a cold shiver. She knew the name, all right.
"It's he who assured me that the bonds on the summoning were unbreakable. And I've seen him put Kaleb-Khanda-in his place. Besides, even if I wanted to, I've no means of just calling him here. I'd have to send a messenger, and I doubt you're willing to sit in this office for the hours it would take for a reply."
"I can be surprisingly patient," Corvis told her. "So can Irrial. Jassion might be a problem, I imagine." He ignored the bandage-wrapped glare. "But that's all moot, since you're not sending a messenger. You're going to take us to him."
Her laugh was a forced and feeble thing. "And why would I do that?"
"Because even walking through the halls or the streets, we can kill you before any help arrives," Jassion snarled at her. "And if you won't help us, there's no reason not to kill you right now for what you've done!"
"More to the point," Corvis said, shaking his head in exasperation, "no matter how certain you think you are that we're lying to you, you can see Jassion and me standing here, working together, telling you the same thing. And you're worried that we just might be telling you the truth. Tell me, Salia, would Verelian be served by his own priestess unleashing a demon in the mortal world? Are you willing to go down in history as the next Audriss-assuming there even is a history after Khanda gets through with us?
"I don't know what you're trying to accomplish with all of this," he continued more softly, "though I think I can guess a good chunk of it. But what I'm certain of is that all your plans won't be worth a gnome's chamber pot if Khanda breaks loose. So you tell us, Salia. Which way do you want it?" THEY'D NEEDED HER COMPLIANCE, prayed for it, even counted on it-but that didn't mean they were remotely ready to trust it. Throughout the nerve-racking trek through the corridors and stairs of the Hall of Meeting, one or the other of them remained at Mavere's back, ready to act if she even looked askance at a passing guard, the others equally alert in case any of the passing guards looked askance at them. Even after they'd gathered their horses, and hers, they walked the beasts through Mecepheum's streets, the better to ensure the Guildmistress remained within easy reach. Only once they'd passed through the main gates did they mount up and ride, and even then they took steps to ensure Salia remained in their midst.
The faint but steady autumn breezes and overcast skies had brought a certain chill to the roads. Thus, though she'd claimed that the ride was only a few hours, they'd taken the opportunity-always with careful eyes on Salia, of course-to acquire some traveling cloaks and coats before leaving the city. It was partly for the sake of their own comfort, but mostly as an excuse, under the guise of "friendly assistance" while shopping, for Irrial to search their unwilling guest for concealed weapons. More than once, Corvis sensed the priestess's gaze upon him and had looked around to see not merely the anger and the fear that he'd anticipated-even, he had to admit, reveled in-but also a peculiar puzzlement.
He wasn't about to ask her what was wrong, of course. But he did wonder.
As they traversed a minor highway that was festively garbed in fallen leaves of red and gold, Corvis watched Jassion with idly hostile curiosity. The baron fiddled with the ties around his throat, trying to keep the knot of his bandage from getting caught in the folds of his new midnight-hued cloak. He fidgeted, craned his neck-and somehow, even from the rear, Corvis could tell that he frowned.
Perhaps sensing the older man's questioning gaze, Jassion tugged on the reins, dropping back a few paces. "I'm no great believer in omens," the nobleman told him, "but I have to admit, I'm not pleased at that."
Corvis glanced up and noted, despite their growing distance from Mecepheum, a number of crows circling high above. He thought back to the birds perched atop the roof of the Hall of Meeting, and he, too, frowned thoughtfully.
"Keep on going with the others," he said suddenly, wheeling his own horse about. "I'll catch up."
"What? Where are you-?"
"Probably nowhere. You've just got me paranoid now. I want to make sure nobody's following-that Mavere didn't somehow manage to signal anyone."
"Paranoid indeed," Jassion said. "But probably wise," he acknowledged, riding on ahead. CORVIS DID INDEED CATCH BACK UP a few moments later and fell into step behind the others.
"Anything?" Jassion called over his shoulder.
"No danger," Corvis replied, wrapping his own crimson cloak more tightly against the autumn chill. "As you said, just paranoid."
Irrial might have detected the odd tenor in his voice, or that he sat somewhat straighter in the saddle than before. But Irrial rode at the front, with Salia between her and the others, and Jassion didn't know his hated ally well enough to notice. He simply nodded, and the four rode on.
Above, the crows continued to circle for a few moments more, and then, one by one, they departed for more worthwhile surroundings. MECEPHEUM, AS BOTH IMPHALLION'S CAPITAL and its richest community, was one of those cities that doesn't seem to know when to stop. Like a noblewoman's skirts, neighborhoods and estates spread from the main walls.