“Tell me, if you please, why it is you have come to see Mistress Kayl today.”
Bryn glanced at Kayl in surprise. Kayl shrugged. “Don’t ask me what he’s hunting for.”
“I came to fix one of the benches,” Bryn said, looking back at Utrilo. “If you’re that interested, you can watch me work. It’ll be a change; usually it’s only the children who enjoy watching a carpenter.”
“A bench?” Utrilo said in an unpleasantly oily tone. “Not, not to visit a new arrival at the inn?”
Bryn studied him. The short fur covering her face made it unreadable. “I think you’ve been standing too long in the sun,” she said at last. “I understand you humans have to be careful about such things. Why should I want to visit one of Kayl’s guests?”
“Ah! But if the guest were a Shee?” Utrilo said. “What have you to say to that?”
“I say you haven’t just been standing in the sun, you’ve been chewing efron leaves as well. There haven’t been Shee in Copeham in years.”
“Prefect Islorran is not unskilled in magic,” Utrilo said. Something in his tone made Kayl look at him sharply. “Not at all unskilled. And he detected someone’s arrival yesterday, a sorcerer of great power. And—”
“You mean a sorceress of great power,” said Corrana from the doorway of the inn.
Kayl turned, and felt the blood drain from her face. Corrana stood regally on the step of the inn, clad in the silver robe of an Elder Sister of the Sisterhood of Stars. The heavy folds hung straight from her shoulders, leaving her arms bare. The cloth rippled over the silver-twined linen belt, hiding all but the dangling ends, and fell in long folds to her ankles. Her black hair was bound back by a net of silver set with diamonds. On her left shoulder the star-shaped badge of the Sisterhood shimmered and gleamed in the sunlight. And the years rolled backward in Kayl’s mind.
She was a frightened six-year-old again, one of a handful of Thar left behind when the raid on the village went so suddenly wrong. Her hands worried at the coarse, prickly rope that bound them while the villagers debated angrily what to do with her. Their accent was barely intelligible to her; the sense of their conversation kept slipping away as she lost her concentration in twisting at the rope.
Suddenly the harsh voices fell silent. Kayl looked up. A woman had come out of one of the houses and started toward the knot of angry people in front of Kayl. She wore a garment of shimmering silver that glittered and gleamed in the sunlight, surrounding her with a corona of light. Kayl gaped at her, full of wonder and fear. Even the Thar had heard of the Silver Sisters, the strange sorceresses who wore the color of magic.
The woman frowned at the villagers and said something too rapidly for Kayl to follow. Then she looked down at Kayl. “I am Dalessi, of the Sisterhood of Stars. Would you come with me, child, and be raised by my sisters and me?”
The threats of the villagers were forgotten. Kayl tried to speak and found she could only nod.
The silver-clothed woman smiled like the mother Kayl had never known, and reached down to untie her hands.
Utrilo cleared his throat uncertainly, and the memory vanished. It left behind a bittersweet tang and a feeling of precariousness. Kayl took a deep breath and forced her mind back to the present. She would have to deal with her private demons later; there was no time now.
“I, um,” Utrilo said, and stopped. His eyes were fixed on Corrana. For an instant, Kayl thought she saw hatred in his expression; then his face settled into an almost comical dismay. Kayl could understand his reaction. The Silver Sisters were powerful, as well as respected, even in Mindaria. Utrilo must know that Islorran would have his hands if he antagonized one of the Sisters. He rocked backward slightly, and his sandals made a crunching noise against the ground.
“I do not believe I know you,” Corrana said coldly. She turned her head to look at Kayl.
“Forgive me, Your Virtue; my mind was elsewhere,” Kayl said. “This is Mistress Bryn saMural, Copeham’s carpenter, and this is Utrilo Levoil, one of Prefect Islorran’s secretaries.”
“Thank you, innkeeper.” Corrana turned to Bryn. “May the Tree guard your way, Mistress.”
“And may the stars look kindly on your own,” Bryn returned.
Corrana inclined her head, then straightened and looked at Utrilo. She studied him with a dispassionate gaze and an expression of mild distaste, as she might have viewed a slug crawling on one of the plants in her garden. “You have some interest in my presence here?”
“Ah, yes, my lady. I mean, no, my lady. That is, Prefect Islorran—”
“The proper form of address for an Elder Sister is ‘Your Virtue,’” Corrana said coldly. “Has Mindaria lost all knowledge of manners?”
Kayl saw hatred flash in Utrilo’s eyes again; then he was the unctuous servant once more. “No, my— Your Virtue. Would Your Virtue condescend to tell me when you arrived in Copeham?”
“No.”
Utrilo blinked. “Your Virtue?”
“I said no. Is your hearing as bad as your manners?”
“But, Your Virtue, Prefect Islorran charged me with the duty of bringing him information about the arrival of the sorcerer—ah, sorceress staying at Mistress Kayl’s inn.”
“That is your problem, not mine,” Corrana said indifferently.
“But Prefect Islorran will—” Utrilo said in a desperate whine.
“I am on the business of the Sisterhood of Stars, and your Prefect has no authority over me. That is all you need to know.”
“Of course, Your Virtue.” Utrilo’s forehead was shiny with perspiration. “But Prefect Islorran is most interested in magic. I am sure he would give you a most gracious welcome, should you wish to visit his villa.”
Utrilo rocked forward hopefully as Corrana paused, considering. “Perhaps that can be arranged,” she said magnanimously. “I cannot say for certain until my business is concluded.”
“If there is any way we can be of service—”
“The affairs of the Sisterhood are no concern of yours,” Corrana snapped.
“Yes, Your Virtue. I mean, no, Your Virtue.”
“Bear it in mind,” Corrana said, and swept back into the inn before Utrilo recovered enough to respond.
Utrilo stared after her. Then he closed his mouth and glared at Kayl, as though attempting to make up for the deference he had shown Corrana. “Wait until Prefect Islorran hears about this!” he hissed. “You’ll regret this day’s work, innkeeper Kayl!”
Before Kayl could respond, Utrilo whirled and stalked off. Kayl stared after him, wondering at his unsettled behavior. Was it just the effect of Corrana’s unexpected appearance? The Silver Sister had humbled Utrilo in front of both Kayl and Bryn; he would find some way of taking it out on them after Corrana left. Kayl shook her head and went inside.
To her surprise, Corrana had not left the serving room. She was sitting on a bench beside the empty hearth, watching Bryn inspect the broken bench-leg. Kayl joined them, nodding a greeting to the Wyrd. Corrana looked up. “Welcome, innkeeper.”
“Your Virtue,” Kayl responded warily. Corrana did not answer immediately, so Kayl turned to Bryn. “How bad is it?”
“Well, the one leg will have to be replaced, but you knew that already,” Bryn said. “The other one is showing the strain, too. It hasn’t cracked yet, so I could just brace it, but you’d be better off in the long run if I replaced it as well.”
Kayl nodded. She had noticed nothing when she had inspected the damage earlier, but Wyrd senses could learn far more about wood than human eyes. “Replace them both,” she told Bryn. The Wyrd twitched an ear in surprise and Kayl gave a twisted smile. “I’d rather have it fixed now, while I can still pay you for it, than wait for it to break after Islorran raises the taxes again.”
Bryn nodded understanding. She sat down on the floor and began pulling tools from her leather pouch. Corrana raised an eyebrow. “May I assume from that that your Prefect’s man has left, and not altogether happily?”
&nbs
p; “Exactly,” Kayl said. “Though it might have been much worse without Your Virtue’s assistance. I thank you for your timely help.”
“My presence here gave rise to the incident,” Corrana said. “The least I could do was aid you.”
“Your Virtue is too kind.”
“There is no need to use the formal title. I insist on proper address only when it seems… necessary.”
Kayl thought of Utrilo and smiled in spite of herself. Bryn looked up from her carpentry and said, “If that’s your rule, you’ll have to resign yourself to being ‘Your Virtued’ for as long as you’re in Mindaria.”
“Perhaps you are right,” Corrana said. “I must admit that I had not expected such a scene as that. Why is this Prefect Islorran so obsessed with Shee?”
Bryn sniffed. “It’s not the Shee he’s interested in, it’s magic. He’ll do anything to get his hands on a little more of it.”
“He expects the Shee to give him knowledge for the asking?” Corrana said skeptically. “He could not be such a fool!”
Kayl and Bryn exchanged glances. “I don’t think you understand,” Kayl said. “Since Mindaria left the Estarren Alliance, the nonhuman races have not been kindly looked on. Islorran doesn’t have to ask politely.”
Corrana’s lips tightened. “I see. I had not thought the taint would have reached here so soon.”
“It’s been eight or ten years since Mindaria recalled its representative to the Senate, and things weren’t exactly good then,” Bryn said.
“And since?”
“It’s gotten worse.” Bryn shrugged. “Travel restrictions, taxes, all sorts of things. That’s why there are so few of us left in Mindaria.”
“What?” Corrana looked startled and dismayed.
“They’ve gone elsewhere,” Kayl said in a matter-of-fact tone. “No Shee has passed through Copeham for at least five years, and this used to be a regular stop for them. It’s not as bad for Wyrds; the King of Mindaria values their woodworking too highly to allow more than minor harassments.”
“You mean, it wasn’t as bad,” Bryn corrected. “Islorran’s father, the old Prefect, was a decent man, for a human. Islorran’s another matter.”
“So it has reached even here,” Corrana said softly. She looked at Bryn. “Why do you stay?”
Bryn gave her a long, unblinking stare. “I don’t plan to,” she said, and turned back to the bench-leg.
“What do you mean?” Kayl said.
“I mean that Alden, Xaya, and I will be leaving Copeham within a month,” Bryn said. “For good.”
“Why now?”
“Because I can see what’s coming, and so can every other Shee and Wyrd and Neira with eyes. Ever since Darkwater, none of us have had any illusions about what this sort of thing leads to.”
Kayl shuddered. The memory of the Darkwater Massacre was over forty years old, but its horror still lingered. Nearly a thousand Wyrds, Shee, and Neira had been killed by Prince Fazendin, tortured to death in a desperate attempt to extract magical secrets they did not possess. The Estarren Alliance, led by Kith Alunel, had retaliated, razing Fazendin’s home, sowing his fields with salt, and leaving the Prince himself stretched on his own rack for the crows to feast on. “Even Islorran wouldn’t condone a slaughter!” Kayl objected.
“He won’t get the chance,” Bryn replied, calmly measuring the disassembled bench-legs and marking the results down on a small wax tablet. “By the time he thinks of it, we’ll all be gone. I’d have left long ago, but Xaya wasn’t old enough to travel.”
“Where will you go?” Corrana asked. “Bridden?”
“No, not Bridden, or even Kith Alunel. Not that Kith Alunel isn’t well disposed toward Wyrds now, but who can say how long that will last? North of the Thar lands, maybe. I hear the ice is moving back.”
“Is there anything you’ll need?” Kayl said.
“Prompt payment on this job,” Bryn said, flashing pointed teeth in a grin. “The rest we’ll manage ourselves. We’ve been preparing for a long time.”
Kayl nodded. “Good luck to you, then, whenever you go.” There was nothing else to say. She would miss the furry little Wyrd, and Copeham would miss her fine touch with carpentry, but she could not deny the wisdom in Bryn’s choice. Mindaria was going the way of most of the non-Alliance countries, and nonhumans were better off elsewhere. Kayl felt a sudden, fierce anger; these were her friends being driven from their homes!
The anger faded into grim frustration. There was nothing she could do about it, nothing at all. Islorran was not the only nobleman more interested in sorcery than in justice; half the Mindaran court was greedy for knowledge of magic. Remembrance of the punishment inflicted on Prince Fazendin might keep them from overt measures, so long as the Estarran Alliance remained strong. It would not keep them from whatever threats they thought they could get away with. And the more Shee and Wyrds withdrew from Mindaria, the worse the situation grew for those who remained behind.
Kayl felt like smashing something, preferably Islorran’s head. Even that would do no good; Islorran’s son was as bad or worse than his father. With difficulty, Kayl reined in her anger and frustration and bent to help Bryn pick up her tools.
CHAPTER
FIVE
BRYN LEFT WITH HER measurements and the pieces of the bench, promising to return and finish the repairs before evening. Kayl was grateful; if the crowd was as large as it had been the previous night, she would need every bench and chair in the inn. Kayl shut the door behind the Wyrd and turned to find Corrana still watching from her seat beside the hearth. “Is there anything I can do for you, Your Virtue?”
“We must talk,” Corrana said. She was frowning into the distance as she spoke.
What now, Kayl wondered. She crossed back to the hearth-side and seated herself. “I am at your service.”
“I hope so,” Corrana murmured. Her eyes came back to Kayl’s face. “I shall not be staying the full week, as we arranged.”
“It is kind of you to tell me, but—”
“Word that an Elder Sister is in Copeham will spread, and I wish to be gone before the Magicseekers hear of my presence.” Corrana paused. “I fear they will do so soon.”
Kayl nodded. The members of the Circle of Silence, more commonly known as the Magicseekers, were known to be devious and unscrupulous; some even thought that they had been the true instigators of the Darkwater Massacre. The Sisterhood of Stars opposed them openly, and had been instrumental in forcing them out of Kith Alunel entirely some twenty years ago. The Magicseekers could do little to harm the Sisterhood itself, but they could make things extremely unpleasant for any individual Sister who happened to fall into their hands. Suddenly Kayl understood the presence of the warding spell she had found guarding Corrana’s door the night before.
“What does this have to do with me and my inn?” Kayl asked uneasily.
“Have I said it has to do with you?”
“People normally don’t bother to tell innkeepers the reasons for their comings and goings,” Kayl pointed out. “So I ask again—what has this to do with me? And no more games, lady.”
Corrana’s head dipped in assent. “Very well. I apologize. I had hoped to give you more time, but your Prefect’s man forced my hand.”
“Did he?” Kayl said skeptically. “Your help was welcome, but hardly necessary. I have managed Utrilo before.”
“Not under such circumstances as these. And I had reasons of my own for wishing you to remain.”
“What do you mean?” Kayl demanded.
“I think you must already know,” Corrana said. “I seek a woman, born among the Thar and raised from early childhood by the Sisterhood. She left our order some fifteen years ago, after a disagreement with the Elder Mothers. We have need of her knowledge and her skill. Her name was Kayl Larrinar, and I think you are she.”
Kayl closed her eyes briefly, then opened them again. “I am.”
Corrana let out her breath in a long, quiet sigh of relief. “We have
need of you, Sister.”
“Why?” Kayl was startled by the cold hardness of her own voice.
“I think you can guess.”
“No games, lady!” Kayl slammed a hand down on the tabletop with enough force to numb her fingers. “What do you want of me?”
“Your help. The Elder Mothers think someone is tampering with the Twisted Tower.”
Kayl’s face stiffened. “Impossible!”
“So the Elder Mothers thought. But there is a shadow on the stars, and they believe the Tower is its origin.”
“And you want me to help you find out who is doing things, what they’re doing, and how to stop them, because I was one of the ones who went to the Tower in the first place.”
“I think that is a fair summary, though it is not as I would have put it.”
The calm in Corrana’s voice angered Kayl, and she said sharply, “You’re forgetting something, Corrana. I’m not one of the Sisters anymore. I’m not even a warrior anymore. I’m an innkeeper and a mother with two children to raise.”
“And if you refuse me, and our efforts fail, what then? Whatever is happening at the Tower, it can be nothing good.”
“It’s no concern of mine.”
“Is it not? The rot that is creeping through the lands of the Alliance is spreading. Will you go to your grave knowing that you could have tried to stop it, and did not?” Corrana’s voice tolled like a death knell, and her eyes were darker than a moonless sky at midnight. “Is that the example you would give your children? Is that the world you would bequeath them?”
Kayl stiffened. “The decision isn’t that straightforward.”
“We are asking for very little.”
“You’re asking for my life! It would take months for me to get to the Windhome Mountains and back. By then there’d be nothing here to return to. Utrilo Levoil would be knocking at the door with a writ of confiscation before I was gone two days. And what would happen to Mark and Dara then?”