The Office of Shadow (49 page)

"I can petition to have the lordship nullified," says Silverdun. "Yield
everything to the Crown. You'd end up with nothing."

"And you'd be a commoner, with no money, no skills, and no friends. Do
you think your companions at court will so much as look your way if you do
such a thing?"

Bresun leans forward at his desk, looks Silverdun in the eye. "Don't try
to bluff me, brat. I will destroy you."

"This isn't over," says Silverdun.

Back in the City Emerald, Silverdun sits in his sumptuous townhouse
and weighs his options. Is everything Bresun told him true? He imagines it
was. Bresun is a clever, careful man.

Is he truly willing to yield his title? One look around the townhouse
answers that question.

He sends a message sprite to Gleia canceling the wedding, and avoids her
usual haunts, and in a few months the whole thing is all but forgotten.

Honestly? He's relieved. He never wanted to get married in the first
place.

The next day dawned foggy and wet. The mountains were no longer visible.
It was chilly and breezy, and the fire had gone out during the night. Everything was damp, and Silverdun was forced to conjure up witchfire because
there was no dry wood. Witchfire was hot and gave off light, but food cooked
on it always had a strange taste, and spending too much time in its warmth
became unpleasant.

There was no good humor in camp that morning. Je Wen, who seemed
unflappable, gave them all a wide berth, packing up camp on his own while
the others stamped around in their boots trying to fend off the chill.

"It will grow warmer during the day," he said.

Silverdun tried to catch Sela's eye, but she studiously avoided him,
making idle conversation with Ironfoot whenever he came near her. Timha
said nothing at all. Only pulled on his elegant, impractical boots with a grimace and stood waiting.

The second day was slow going. In places it became necessary to climb,
and neither Timha nor Sela was an expert climber. Silverdun thanked whatever gods had provided him and Ironfoot with their newfound strength. He'd
never felt better. At least, not physically.

As Je Wen had promised, the day grew warm, and the fog was entirely
gone by midday. They walked and climbed, falling into a rhythm that lulled
Silverdun into the mirage that this was the whole world. That life was just
this. Everything else seemed far, far away.

After the sun went down, they found a comfortable, dry cave to sleep in.
It turned out that Ironfoot and Je Wen knew some of the same tunes, though
with vastly different words. They sang anyway, Je Wen in Arami and Ironfoot in Common. The bawdy words of the Seelie versions made Je Wen laugh,
and his laughter was contagious. Even Timha was persuaded to join the
chorus of one that he knew as well. Silverdun had no aptitude for singing,
but listened contentedly, happy to have something to take his mind off of
things. When they reached Elenth tomorrow, they would be rejoining the
world, and all the troubles that came along with it. The call to war would
still be resounding in Corpus. The Einswrath would still be a threat.

And there was the matter of their near capture in Preyia. It was too reminiscent of what had happened in Annwn. They'd been expected; in both circumstances, someone had alerted the local constabulary of the Shadows' presence.

The singing continued into the night. He watched Sela watch Ironfoot
and Je Wen, studiously avoiding his gaze. She smiled, but he could still feel
an echo of their connection, and he knew that there was no mirth behind that
smile. Whatever contentment he'd felt earlier in the evening had been
drowned out by worry, and when Silverdun finally slept, it was against the
protestations of a troubled mind.

The next morning was cold again, and the fog had become a light rain.
A few minutes after they stepped out of the cave they were drenched, and all of the previous evening's bonhomie was washed away. They continued to
climb.

Just when Silverdun was certain that Timha was about to give out
entirely, Je Wen stopped at the top of a steep embankment. It was midday,
and the light rain had given way to a flat, glaring sunlight that warmed them
somewhat but didn't entirely remove the chill.

"There," said Je Wen. "Elenth."

Silverdun looked down and saw a wide valley. At the base of the mountain upon which they stood, tilled fields reached out toward a small city nestled against the hills on the other side of the valley. The valley glowed in the
sunlight. In the distance Silverdun could see farmers dotting the fields, tiny
wagons and horses coming in and out of Elenth. He realized that they hadn't
seen anyone other than the Arami in three days.

"Civilization at last," said Silverdun. Part of him wished there were
another three days still to go.

"Quiet!" snapped Je Wen. It was the first time Silverdun had ever seen
him not looking placid. He had his head cocked to the side, listening
intently.

"What's happening-?" started Timha.

"I said quiet!" snapped Je Wen.

Everyone stood still. Silverdun looked at Ironfoot, who shrugged.

"We must move," said Je Wen. "Quickly. We must get down from here."

"What's going on?" asked Ironfoot.

"A quake is coming," said Je Wen. "A big one."

Silverdun looked around him. They were in a narrow pass between two
thick boulders on a wide, uneven ridge. Loose rocks were everywhere. The
slope downward in front of them was steep and rocky. It would require them
to pick their way with care.

"Come!" shouted Je Wen. He started down the slope without looking
back.

For a minute it seemed as if Je Wen had been wrong. They picked their
way down the mountainside with no hint of anything awry.

Then Silverdun pitched into the air as if he'd been thrown. He heard
shouting. There was dust all around him. Sela screamed.

Something roared beneath him, bellowed, rattled the air. Silverdun
landed hard, smashing his hip and shoulder against solid rock. The pain was
numbing, vibrating through him, matching the vibration of the earth below.

Another ear-splitting bellow, and now the ground fell away beneath him
only to let him crash onto it a second time.

"Silverdun!" came a voice through the roar. He felt a hand on his
shoulder, saw a face. Je Wen was reaching across to him. "Jump to me!"

Silverdun looked down and saw the dirt at his feet shake and disintegrate, pouring downward into darkness. He leapt toward Je Wen and landed
on a narrow ledge that swayed but didn't topple.

"Where are we?" shouted Silverdun. "We have to find the others!"

"This way!" Je Wen called back.

It was nearly impossible for Silverdun to find his footing; every time he
found a place to step, it jumped away from him. Je Wen didn't seem to have
this problem; he stepped where the ground was heading, not where it was.

Sela screamed again, and Silverdun lurched forward. He saw her hair
before he saw the rest of her, a gold swirl in a maelstrom of dust. She was
hunched beneath an overhanging boulder as rock and dirt poured down
around her.

"Come with me!" shouted Je Wen. He reached for Sela and pulled her
toward them. He thrust her into Silverdun's arms and pointed. "Go that
way! "

Je Wen stepped forward. The ground lurched beneath his feet, and he
dropped to his knees. A thick slab of a boulder slid down on top of him with
an ugly thud. Sela screamed; Silverdun wanted to.

Je Wen was dead, his chest crushed.

"Run!" shouted Silverdun.

They carefully crawled past Je Wen's body onto a solid, level place. With
a final crash, the ridge rumbled and then fell still. Dirt and rocks cascaded
around them from higher up the peak, but the ground had stopped moving.
The quake was over.

Silverdun and Sela sat down hard on solid rock, both gasping for air.
Dust had settled in Sela's face and hair, and tears streamed down her cheeks.
They sat that way, staring at each other, for a long moment.

"Help!" came Ironfoot's voice, cutting through the dust. "Silverdun!
Sela! Je Wen!"

Silverdun was up and running, leaping across the new landscape of the
ridge toward the sound of Ironfoot's voice. Dust was still thick in the air.
"Slow down!" shouted Sela, but Silverdun kept running, the panic that had
only just begun to settle now rising up in him again. He tried Ironfoot's trick
of reaching in, found his panic and quelled it, but not by much.

"Ironfoot!" he shouted, now unsure where to go. The ridgeline here
broke in two, split by a steep cleft.

"Over here!" came Ironfoot's voice, strained. "Hurry, dammit!"

Silverdun ran toward Ironfoot's voice. The dust parted, and he stopped
just before falling over a ragged cliff. A thick stream of rocks and dust was
spilling down over the edge. Silverdun looked down and saw Ironfoot clinging
to the barest of handholds on the cliff face with four fingers, the open air
beneath him. The ground was at least a hundred feet below. Ironfoot held
Timha slumped in his other arm, and the leather satchel hung on his wrist.

"Get me the hell out of here!" shouted Ironfoot.

"Is Timha alive?" Silverdun asked, getting down on his stomach.

"He's breathing," said Ironfoot. "But neither of us will be if you don't get
us up!"

Silverdun reached down. His fingertips went down just far enough to
graze Ironfoot's handhold.

"Careful!" shouted Ironfoot.

"What now?" asked Silverdun, the panic again rising. He reached in and
damped it down again; this time it was easier. In a few seconds, he was calm
again.

"You could let Timha drop," said Silverdun soberly. "Better him than
both of you."

"I didn't go to all this trouble to collect him only let him go now," Ironfoot grunted. It was taking all of his Shadow strength to hold on. He put his
mouth to Timha's ear. "Wake up, you son of a whore!"

Timha lifted his head and opened his eyes. "Do not move," hissed Ironfoot. "What I want you to do is-"

Timha screamed and jerked, kicking out with his feet. Ironfoot swayed out from the cliff face, digging in with his fingers. Blood began to ooze out
from beneath his fingertips where the sharp edge of the handhold cut them.

"Dammit, I said don't move!"

Timha froze. He shut his eyes.

"Now listen," said Silverdun. "Timha, I want you to reach up, ever so
delicately, with your left hand, and take mine. And when I say delicately, I
mean as delicately as the wooing of a swordsmith's daughter."

Shaking, Timha slowly, slowly reached his arm up. Ironfoot growled in
pain, his face red with exertion.

Silverdun reached out and grasped Timha's wrist, and pulled as hard as
he could. He grunted and dug in-Timha was heavier than he was. For a few
harrowing seconds he believed that Timha was actually going to pull him
over the edge. Then Timha's arms were both up on the cliff top and Timha
was scrambling up and away.

Silverdun reached down once more. Ironfoot's fingers were slipping, the
blood making the handhold impossible to maintain.

"Take my hand!" shouted Silverdun.

"I don't think I can," Ironfoot whispered. "I'm almost empty, Silverdun."
His free arm dangled at his side.

"Reach in and strengthen your muscles," said Silverdun. "You know
how; you taught me."

"I don't have any re left."

"Then take mine," said Silverdun.

"How?"

"When we were at Whitemount, Jedron did it to me," said Silverdun. "It
must be possible." Silverdun pushed out toward Ironfoot, not really knowing
what he was doing, just pushing raw essence. Something grabbed at him,
began to suck at him, just as Ilian/Jedron had. Without the cold iron bars
repelling the re, it was slower, but just as certain.

"I can feel it," Ironfoot muttered. He lifted his free arm, wincing at the
pain, and raised it, inch by inch, over his head. Silverdun grabbed him and
pulled, and that was when Silverdun realized his mistake. He'd given all of
his strength to Ironfoot and had none left for himself. Ironfoot was far heavier
than Timha was.

"Pull!" said Ironfoot, his eyes wide.

"I'm working on that," said Silverdun. "Just a moment."

"Silverdun, you bastard!" shouted Ironfoot. His hold began to slip.

Silverdun felt something moving over him. A hand reached down and
clasped over his. Sela's hand.

"Together now," she said.

A minute later, the four of them-Silverdun, Ironfoot, Sela, and
Timha-lay on their backs on the flattest part of the ridge they could find,
all breathing heavily.

"Where's Je Wen?" asked Ironfoot.

Silverdun allowed his silence to answer the question.

"He had a pregnant wife," said Ironfoot.

"That he did."

Ironfoot let out his breath and closed his eyes. Blood dripped from his
fingertips onto the dusty rock.