Mika knelt to study the girl's face. The child continued to stare raptly. "Hello," Mika said. "What's your name?"
"Oh, she won't answer you," the old woman said sadly. "Kaila has never spoken a word in her life, I fear."
"Is that so?" A thought occurred to Mika. She stood and walked behind.the girl, then clapped her hands together loudly. The old woman jumped, but the girl did not shift her intense, blank gaze. This was not the first time Mika had seen a situation such as this. She turned to the old woman.
"Your granddaughter isn't simple. She's deaf."
"Deaf?"
"That's right. I'm afraid she cannot hear."
"Is it a curse?" the old woman asked fearfully.
"Of course not," Mika said emphatically. She knelt again, placing her hands gently on the girl's shoulders. "You aren't stupid at all, are you'Kaila? No, I imagine just the opposite."
Mika smiled warmly. Suddenly the girl smiled back, the expression lighting up her thin face. Carefully, Mika made a gesture with her hands, then motioned for Kaila to do likewise. The small girl hesitated. Then, slowly and deliberately, she copied Mika's gesture. Mika nodded reassuringly and formed the gesture again, then drew the child close in an embrace. For a second, she remembered what it had been like to hold her own golden-haired Lia.
"What was that you just taught her?" the old woman asked, distrustful. "Was it a spell?" A murmur ran through the onlookers.
Mika shook her head fiercely as she stood. "Not at all. It's a way of talking with the hands. Some say the hand-speak was devised by alchemists long ago, so they could trade their secret formulae without fear of being overheard. All I know is that those who cannot hear have found the hand-speak to be a great boon. I just showed Kaila how to say 'hello.' Would you like it if I taught you some of the hand-speak?"
The old woman gasped in wonder. "You mean I… I could learn to talk to Kaila?"
"Yes. I'll need to learn a bit more first, but I have a book that will help. We can start tomorrow, if you'd like."
"Aye, indeed!" the old woman replied. "Thank you, milady!" She bent down to hug the girl. "My, Kaila. Finally I shall be able to tell you that I love you."
As the old woman and child made their way back through the crowd Mika could not help but beam. Maybe this wasn't such a terrible place after all. "Well," she said, holding out her arms. "Who's next?"
Villagers stumbled over each other in the rush to be next.
With feline grace, Jadis strolled into the Grand Hall of Nartok Keep. The airy hall was filled with minor lords and petty nobles, all bedecked in frills, jewels, and gaudy finery, tittering and whispering among themselves like a flock of colorful, vain, and mindless birds. The baron was holding court today. The courtiers were waiting in the hall, hoping to be summoned into the baron's private antechamber to present him with a self-serving petition or ask some favor. A disarmingly absent smile coiled about Jadis's smoke-ruby lips, concealing her disdain. She despised them all. However, it was custom for a visiting lady to attend court affairs. She had to keep up her ruse.
Gasps rose from a group of courtiers clustered around a performing harlequin. A garish red smile was painted across the clown's blotchy white face. The harlequin was some sort of illusionist, for a trio of shimmering colored balls hovered above his outstretched hands. Suddenly each of the spheres of light flashed brilliantly, and in their place three similarly hued doves winged into the air before vanishing in puffs of mist. The onlookers applauded enthusiastically as the harlequin capered about, bowing.
Jadis watched contemptuously. "Simple entertainments for simple minds, love," she murmured softly to herself. She gazed down at her long fingernails and wondered what the courtiers would think if they witnessed a real transformation. It was tempting…
From their constant whispering and sideways glances, she knew the nobles of Baron Caidin's court considered her quite the enigma. As anywhere else, here the baron's supercilious nobles were constantly caught up in their petty intrigues and silly scheming, each trying to rise to the top of their meaningless pecking order. Now all were attempting to determine where Jadis fit in. Should they scorn her as an inferior attempting to gain stature at the expense of others? Or should they fawn at her feet to bolster their own position?
Of course, the truth of Jadis's nature went far beyond anything their little minds could possibly dream up. If she were only to whisper the word Kargat, half the courtiers would faint dead away and the others would soil their fancy garments. Not so Baron Caidin. Without doubt, the baron knew that she belonged to King Azalin's secret webwork of spies. It was she herself who had supplied the information to the baron's agent in II Aluk. As a result, Caidin would imagine he had the upper hand in this game. And in his overconfidence he was bound to make mistakes.
While she had more instinct than evidence, Jadis was certain Caidin's plot to usurp the throne from King Azalin was somehow linked to his inquisition. Through seemingly innocent questions and eavesdropped conversations, she had come to the conclusion that Caidin's inquisition was a complete fraud. Villagers were arrested, tortured, and executed haphazardly. No effort was made to uncover any ringleaders or to determine the scope of any overarching plots. That left Jadis with an intriguing question. If there was no treachery in Nartok, why go to such effort to fabricate the illusion that there was?
And what of the tower on the moor? The court was filled with whispers about the strange spire-how it had appeared one night without warning, as if it had sprung from the soil like some dark mushroom. Surely it was no coincidence that the foundation of the mysterious tower had appeared mere days before Azalin learned of Caidin's intent to usurp the throne of Darkon. Yet what was the connection between the tower and the inquisition? Jadis did not know the answer to that question-yet. She made a mental note to herself. The tower was definitely worth investigating. First, however, it was time to pay a visit to some of Caidin's "guests" in the inquisition chamber below the keep. Who better to answer questions about the baron's false inquisition than the victims imprisoned by it?
Deciding she had spent enough time in the Grand Hall to maintain her front, Jadis departed, ignoring the whispers and surreptitious glances that trailed her. She made her way through winding corridors and down twisting staircases until she reached the dim archway that led to the keep's dungeon. As always, a pair of armed guards stood to either side. She chewed a lip delicately with pearl-white teeth. She hadn't quite decided what to do about the guards. No doubt they would find it odd for a lady to express an interest in touring the dungeon.
So as not to arouse suspicion, she strolled casually past the guarded archway, though not before letting her eyes linger over the guards. Neither was particularly handsome, but both had youth and muscular physiques in their favor.
"Now, now, love." She whispered an admonishment to herself. "Let's not mix business with pleasure."
She smiled seductively at the two young guards, savoring the crimson rising in their cheeks, then continued on. Slipping into an antechamber, she paused to consider her options. She could dispose of the guards simply enough, but that would be a messy solution and would no doubt alert Caidin to her activities. She tapped a cheek thoughtfully.
Then she espied it. High in one wall of the dusty antechamber was a hidden opening. She approached the wall, running a finger over its rough-hewn surface. These stones were darker than those of the chamber's other three walls, and seemingly much older. Like any fortress, Nartok Keep had been built in dozens of stages over several centuries. It was clear this had once been an outside wall. That meant the opening concealed an outdated ventilation shaft. In which case it almost certainly connected with the sewers below the keep-and the dungeon.