The Mountain called Bone to the parapet. “Bone, I have another journey for you. I’m asking because you’re the only man who can do this.”
The only man did not conceal his distress. “Chances are, I wouldn’t survive another journey.”
“You’ll outlive me by twenty years. This time you won’t go alone. Take a dozen men with you. Anybody but al-Azer.”
Bone awaited his sentence.
“I want you to go to al-Qarn.”
Bone asked no questions.
“Find our brethren and explore their attitudes toward the current situation. Find out how successful Indala has been at unifying the kaifates. Also, find out what became of Captain Tage’s family. And my wife.”
“The Captain’s wife explains why me, I suppose. We’ve looked before. We had no luck.”
“Men were told to look. They took no risks. They didn’t want to attract attention.”
“Things should be more relaxed, now. And I’ve actually met the woman, though that was a long time ago. Do you have something in mind?”
“Nothing so wicked as what you’re imagining. They’re owed. And their appearance in the Holy Lands might remind the Captain of his roots. He seems to have lost touch.”
“Oh, he has, General. If he’d taken us with him we all would have.”
Never having been part of an isolated and intimate company like Else Tage’s, Nassim did not fully understand the bonds those men had forged. But he did understand that war made families of men who became alloyed far more solidly than any conventional family.
That had begun to develop here at Tel Moussa several times. It never fully ripened because Indala did not leave his Lucidians in place long enough. Tel Moussa was a sorting house. Here the best men got blooded and the worst men got dead before they became liabilities in a larger arena.
“I can’t order you to go,” Alizarin said. “I have used you too hard.”
“Stop. Don’t pluck my guilt strings.”
Nassim stifled his protest. “No need to rush. And no need to take risks.”
Bone did not respond. There was nothing to say. This was the life he had chosen. Out of it, someday, would come the death that was implicit in his choice.
“Don’t put yourself in harm’s way if the family is still a touchy matter. Same thing with anything else of interest to us.”
“The Great Shake’s men could object to us sneaking around like we’re part of a conspiracy.”
“If they press, tell them the truth.”
“And that would be? For these purposes?”
“The truth is, though I won’t become Marshall if I’m beholden to Indala, I do want to encourage the Sha-lug to join Indala’s new Great Campaign to oust foreigners from the Holy Lands.”
Bone slipped into a sour, sarcastic mood. “Would that include Dreangereans, Lucidians, or tribal groups out of Peqaa?”
The Mountain snorted, mildly amused.
17. The Connec: Gifts
Brother Candle, Socia, and Bernardin Amberchelle gathered each evening to share what they learned about their remarkable visitor, always a great deal of nothing. No one had seen her, no one knew anything about her. Even Mistress Alecsinac, after studying the Perfect’s tattoos, Bernardin’s scars, and Socia’s massive crystal, which she now carried in a sheath like a dagger, could tell them nothing. Nor could she explain the forgotten necklace. She saw nothing special about it.
Mistress Alecsinac was younger than Brother Candle but still of considerable age. And she was frightened. “These are great potencies, Lady. No known Instrumentality answers your description. No Instrumentality takes such an avatar. Our significant Old Ones-the ones that started to come back-were all destroyed by the Captain-General. This will be something different. This will be something the Connec has never seen.”
Bernardin Amberchelle unleashed one of his occasional intellectual surprises. “Any chance she could be a new goddess?”
Mistress Alecsinac considered. “New to the Connec, certainly. But you said she spoke an old version of the language. She may belong to an elder generation of Instrumentalities.”
Brother Candle had spent as little time as he could with the witch during Socia’s pregnancy. Even Seekers After Light had no room in their faith for such people-except when her special knowledge might ease a birth or help the sick. Despite her bizarre connections, though, Mistress Alecsinac was reasonable, rational, and articulate where Brother Candle would prefer a raving madwoman.
The Perfect said, “We know a lot of old, dark entities were awakened by Rudenes Schneidel. The Captain-General dealt with those and Schneidel but maybe Schneidel wasn’t the only sorcerer stirring up revenants. The world was infested before the Old Empire culled them.”
Mistress Alecsinac asked, “Do any of you have any idea what she did to you?”
Brother Candle did not confess that he felt more alive than he had thought possible earlier, or than was seemly for a man of his years. The old woman cared only about tattoos and scars. “No,” he said. “And I’m starting to scare children.”
Socia said, “That’s what crazy old men do.”
“Socia?” the Perfect said. “Is there something you don’t want to reveal?”
* * *
Socia fell in love with her demonic crystal. She abused its power immediately and often. Denizens of the citadel began muttering about ghosts and demons. The Perfect heard of monster hounds seen from the corner of the eye, of great cats gone in a blink, of unfamiliar men and women stalking corridors by night and refusing to answer challenges. There was also talk of a huge bird, possibly an eagle, seen leaving a window up near the Countess’s chambers. Her people were worried about her safety.
The Perfect asked, “What don’t you want to share?”
Socia confessed, “I’ve been changing shape. A lot. More to do practical jokes than anything useful.”
“Useful?”
“I can go anywhere I want if I take the right shape.”
“Ah. I see.” Now that he knew he could worry about the trouble into which she could get. He imagined a dozen ways with no effort at all.
“I’ll bet. The demon said use the crystal sparingly. Probably to avoid attracting attention but, maybe, too, because it has limits. Maybe you only get twenty changes, then it dies.”
“We don’t know that.”
“My point exactly. We don’t know anything about any of the gifts she gave us. We have to figure them out for ourselves. She was, by any reckoning, a devil. And it’s a given that things of the Night aren’t always what they seem. Gifts especially.”
Socia could say nothing to change that. “I just got overwhelmed. But I did find out some useful stuff, Bernardin. I flew out to see Kedle. I did some scouting for her. That woman … Five minutes after I showed up she was already coming up with wicked things we could do to our enemies.”
Brother Candle had no trouble believing that. Kedle was quick, opportunistic, and brutal. Socia’s tone suggested that they had done something wicked already. “Wondrous as the practical applications may be, we really should know more before we assume what could be deadly risks.”
Reluctantly, Socia conceded his point, but then began telling Bernardin about a conspiracy she had unearthed while prowling.
“Ah. I did think that the Raisen brothers were tainted but they never gave me an excuse for bringing them in. Now I have one.”
“What will Kedle do if I stop going to see her?”
“Without you.”
“But…”
“She managed before. You probably gave her enough so she can work her wickedness for weeks.”
“But…”
“You just want to be off having adventures instead of governing. But you aren’t Raymone Garete. You can’t get away with leaving it to others. You have the assizes coming up.”
“There’s always assizes coming up. But you’re right. I just want to get away.” She sighed, resigned. “There is one thing, though. That demon might be following Kedle around.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Kedle says strange stuff happens whenever it looks like there might be a fight.”