Hunter and Fox (14 page)

Circling the room, Finn gathered several versions of the event, most obviously embellished. He doubted very much that Talyn had killed fifty men on her way down the street, nor did he believe that she had been dressed in nothing but boots and sword. Talespinner that he was, he admired the effort and could imagine that by nightfall there would be a hundred different accounts leaving Perilous for new life in outlying districts. The pamphleteers would be hard at work all evening.

He was sure that the Hunter had no idea what she had unleashed. Despite her great age Talyn had little contact with ordinary folk, but the talespinner had seen the power of story before.

Three years before, Finn had been wintering in a small coastal village to the north. A hapless fisherman, who thought himself a spinner of a yarn or two, bragged about a fish of gold that he had hauled in just off the bay. Now, told to his neighbor over the back fence, the story would have gotten no farther than the village; but, by broadcasting it to a heaving public house with many well into their cups, he'd brought himself nothing but misery. Scarcely a week later and the villagers were inundated with people searching for this shoal of gold-filled fish. Some got rather angry when told there was no such thing. The fisherman who had started it all ended up with his boat holed and was forced to move to another village altogether.

Telling a story wasn't as simple as it first seemed. Finn knew there was power in words that most didn't really understand. Within hours after she made her offer, the rumor had spread to practically everyone in the city—within days, it would have reached even the farthest corners of Conhaero. It would not just be a bag of gold Talyn was offering, it would be a chest, and more besides. Soon Perilous would be full of conmen, desperados, and the mentally unstable. They would be dragging every father, son, and husband they thought might pass as her brother to her doorstep. As Finn thought about it, he realized it would also make Vaerli valuable property, and it wouldn't matter to them that getting two in a room was always fatal.

It was almost comforting that Talyn had made such a mistake. It did, however, mean that his performance of last night was not the most interesting news of the day.

“Know any Vaerli hereabouts, talespinner?” A tall fellow with beefy shoulders stood very close to Finn.

Finn paused on a reply and looked around. Yes, he was right; they were all staring at him. He tried to sidle away from the gathering crowd. Though he was used to attention, this was not the kind he wanted. The gleam in their eye spoke of gold madness.

They pressed closer, blocking his way to the door. The people were being absorbed into a crowd, losing their identity and becoming bold with it. They poked him, beginning to yell, and Finn tried his best not to panic at their odor and aggressiveness. He'd seen men torn apart in a mob by normal everyday people. He heard the publican yelling for order, but no one was listening. It seemed strangely funny that a talespinner might be dismembered by a crowd so desperately wanting a story.

He was saved when Equo's spare shape interposed itself between the talespinner and the crowd.

Spreading his hands and smiling charmingly, the new arrival said jovially to the crowd, “He really isn't that good.”

“Half-rate talespinner if you ask me.” The top of an enormous green hat was just visible near the back. The voice was unmistakably Varlesh's.

The crowd rippled with laughter.

“He wouldn't know a Vaerli from any other beggar,” Equo went on.

Finn could feel himself getting a little red.

“Much more likely to find a Vaerli out in the market,” Varlesh boomed, sounding suspiciously as if he was nearing the bar.

Miraculously, the near-mob dissipated, and they became people again. Some made for the door to investigate Varlesh's claim, but the rest settled down to their seats.

Equo took a firm grip of Finn's elbow and guided him back to his compatriots. The dark-eyed Si nodded at Finn. Varlesh appeared, beer mug in hand, sat down quickly, and ordered some meat pies from the relieved barmaid.

Draining his mug with relish, the older man grinned at Finn. “You're so predictable, boyo—always in a pickle and never knowing how to get out of it. You'd think a man of words would find a way out of such messes.”

“I give performances, not debates,” the talespinner grumbled before taking one of the trio's hot pies, “but you seem to know how to handle a crowd.”

“Experience,” Equo replied affably.

Varlesh wiggled his fingers. “That and a little bit of magic.”

Finn stared at him for a moment, not quite sure if they were joking or not. Something about Si's fixed look suggested more.

“Still, it's nice to see you've survived,” Equo said in a lowered tone. “We really didn't expect you to. But maybe you were right. There are rumors more powerful than even the appearance of Talyn the Dark in the Singing Fish.”

“Wasn't so much the story,” Varlesh went on, “more the amazement that someone had the bare-faced cheek to speak the words in the Caisah's Citadel.”

“You've caused a stir, Finn, and now we have to get you out!”

“Unless you really do have some fool death wish…”

Finn traced the rough surface of the table. Truthfully, he hadn't been thinking that far ahead. “I guess I have done what I came here to do…”

That admission was enough, and before he knew it the trio had him upstairs packing his meager possessions and getting out of the inn. He did resist being taken down the back stairs. “I'm not a fugitive!”

“You should be.” Si touched his shoulder. “The Caisah will make a puzzle of you.”

“What does he mean by that?”

The other two shared a glance.

“Don't know for sure, lad,” Varlesh replied, “but the Caisah has set some mighty puny bounties recently, and from last night's performance you could well be on the list. The Pure Maid knows how we are going to get you out of the City!”

“It's possible you got your wish, Finn,” Equo said. “You might just have got the attention from the Caisah you wanted.”

So Finn allowed himself to be hustled out the back way and tried not to wonder if that was a surge of fear or excitement in his chest.

Everything was waiting, for Talyn the Dark: waiting to end the Harrowing, waiting for news of her brother, waiting for the Caisah to command her. She was indeed, as he called her, a hawk—pinned to his wrist, a hood over her eyes, totally unable to take action for herself. She might not be one of his mistresses, but he had her just where he wanted her.

Talyn had sweated away the day in the confines of the Citadel, unable to settle anywhere. With nothing to do but wait for her next bounty, Talyn found time weighing on her. As the day stole away, she lingered by the Great Hall and found in the air a feeling of expectancy she had never felt in the Citadel. So she buckled on her mother's blade and the Caisah's pistol and went out to see if V'nae Rae would tell her what was happening.

The night had just opened, and the air was wonderfully chill. It was a magic time. Looking down from the Southern Terrace, Talyn had to admit the beauty had not left with her people. Under the silver-blue light of the moons, the carved walls glowed. Despite herself she sighed, eyes roaming over the courtyards and towers, recalling with deep melancholy the past.

Nostalgia might be a pleasant sensation for shorter-lived races, but for every Vaerli, even those practicing
nemohira
, it was nothing but pain. There was just too much of it. The ghosts of her people were conjured up on each corner, and everywhere Talyn looked she felt nothing but the weight of time.

She'd been born here, like her mother, but now it only caused her distress. It was only in the night she would allow herself such thoughts and never while on a hunt. Memories rushed from all about to plague her: whispers of children's voices, the brazen recollection of events, and the faces she somehow still expected to see.

A'shenn
, her brother had called her, after the smallest letter in their alphabet—a mocking of her size in the manner of children. Never had there been time for her to choose an adult name. The Harrowing had intervened, cutting her away from the Kindred.

The Kindred. Why was she suddenly thinking of them? Something familiar stirred in her.

Because in the quiet you feel me, Vaerli'meroth.

A thrill of fear passed through Talyn the like of which she could not remember having felt for a very long time. All she had learnt of the Kindred came rushing back.

“I feel you indeed, but walking within a Vaerli shadow is forbidden by the Pact.”

The Pact is broken. Your people scattered. We have nothing between our kind anymore.

The Kindred were not to be treated idly. Even before the Pact they had been deadly and fickle, just as that foolish talespinner had said. Who knew what they had become since the Harrowing.

Talyn was frozen with sudden fear.

I feel your thoughts, Talyn called the Dark. You have forgotten that your ancestor made the alliance possible. Do you think one of my kind would hurt one of Ellyria's children?

“The line of Ellyria is broken like the Pact. How do I know what you may do?” she snapped. “Why are you in my shadow?”

The world is moving, Talyn. If your kind were whole they would feel it as we do. The balance has been disturbed and changes are coming if the Caisah wills it or not. His time of domination is ending.

She found she was holding her breath. It was too soon. The Vaerli were still crippled by the Harrowing, and if another Conflagration erupted they would be helpless.

It will not wait. We will not wait. Already others are reacting, if the Vaerli cannot. The world is beginning to ring to the sound of uprising. Will you not join them, Talyn the Dark? Shake off the bonds you have made for yourself and cast down the Caisah!

Oh, there was a moment of temptation in that—a brief second of imagining, where she could see herself attacking their ancient enemy. Then reality found her. No hope existed for the Vaerli if she died. Only the Caisah's promise and the Golden Puzzle held any hope.

Foolish child-Vaerli. You are making your own prison. The Caisah plays with you like a toy, and you only have yester-thoughts not future-thoughts. He uses this against you and laughs.

“We made the strongest of blood pacts. He cannot break it without breaking himself. Now get out of my shadow!” she yelled, making the walls of V'nae Rae ring with Vaerli anger.

You and your kind have no power to command me, Talyn the Darkest, so I will stay and watch and wait.

She slammed her fists into the unforgiving stone wall, hoping the pain would reach the Kindred, but it did not come out and she could not Name it.

“I will not let you. I will not!”

Despite herself, Talyn jumped when the pale face of the young guardsman from the Caisah's door appeared around the corner she'd been leaning against. She recognized the young man who had challenged her.

Gulping down her frustration, Talyn tried to recapture her icy mask. “Yes?”

“Forgive me,” he made an unconscious half-bow. “The Caisah has a bounty for you, so your presence is required.”

Thankfully the Kindred within made no comment. Talyn made her way to her room and replaced the sword lovingly in its box. Dropping the pistol, she followed the impatient heels of the guard. They passed Kelanim in the presence chamber. She was reclining on a low sofa and smiled prettily at Talyn as she passed. The Vaerli could smell sex on her, and she supposed this was why the mistress looked so very pleased with herself.

The interior of the Puzzle Room was different, seen by torch. The light flickered and bounced over the pieces, lending a liquid amber glow to the ceiling and illuminating the Caisah waiting near the window in a sinister cast.

He was dressed only in light trousers of pale linen, and his chest gleamed with sweat. Talyn didn't need an explanation as to why. It was indeed the only reason the Caisah went to bed. He never slept, but he did like to maintain the impression of something akin to humanity. The population already lived in terrible fear of him. How much more afraid would they be if they knew his eyes never shut, and he spent his nights in dark contemplation of his work?

“My Hunter, I see you are as restless as I tonight.” He beckoned her closer through the red-gold reflections. “I thought I would have the pleasure of your company for many days yet, but needs must. I will avenge all insults against me.”

She drew up within arm's reach of him and waited, holding her tongue for him to say the name. The world narrowed down to that.

“His name is Finnbarr the Fox.” The sum of her last remaining Vaerli magic flared. Talyn was momentarily blind. Her skin prickled and her muscles twitched as the name buried itself within her. She saw the face and was not surprised to recognize it. The talespinner had been a fool to push the Caisah.

“He is not far,” she whispered under her breath. “Within the city.”