A Thread in the Tangle (63 page)

A form materialized from nothing, joining him in nowhere.
 
The man who stood before him wore robes of luminescent white.
 
The form pushed back his deep cowl, revealing dark skin, an aquiline nose, and bright, silver eyes that were as distant and reassuring as the stars.

“Marsais!”
 
The other man in this non-place smiled with delight.
 
When his majestic features relaxed, he resembled a boy with a mop of unruly white hair.
 
However, his smile faded when he noticed the grim visage of his companion, and the boy vanished, looking neither young nor old, like his companion.
 
“You don’t look well.”
 
His voice was deep, and as compassionate as the earth.

“I’m not well,” Marsais admitted, “but then that is part of the reason I requested this meeting.
 
Thank you for seeing me, Chaim.”

“There is little that I would not abandon for you, my old friend.”
 
The Guardian of Life crossed his arms, slipping his hands inside the voluminous sleeves of his robe in a perfect vision of serenity.
 
Marsais envied his calm control, but then as the god had pointed out in the past, he did not have the curse of foresight.
 
“More visions?”

“In part,” Marsais sighed.
 
“I have questions of matters which are wisely not penned, let alone answered.
 
Hmm, I was hoping to pick your brain.”
 
The god nodded for him to continue.
 
“What do you know of Soisskeli’s Stave?”

“I know I don’t like hearing mention of it.”

“So the legends are true?
 
It has the power to bind virtually anything?”

“Anything not born of this realm, yes.
 
Soisskeli wanted to make sure no one used it against him.”

“Ah, well then, what if I told you that an ambitious Wise One has possession of the haft?”

The god took a deep breath.
 
“Only the haft?”

“I think he knows the location of at least one segment, the end caps, perhaps both.
 
Am I correct in thinking it was separated and scattered to the distant parts of the land?
 
The haft was placed somewhere near Vaylin.
 
One of the end caps was hidden in the South along the Spotted coast.
 
And the other?”

“The other is hidden,” Chaim answered gravely.
 
“And although I don’t question your motives, I hesitate to tell you for obvious reasons.”

“Allow me to paint a suggestive picture for you.
 
This Wise One has been pushing for the Order to support a new Thane who has arisen in the South.
 
Tharios has persuaded the Circle to support this Thane—against my recommendation.”

“I heard the Thane united the fragmented kingdom.”

“Yes, but I have had visions of war.
 
I believe the Thane, Lachlan, was in possession of one of the end caps, or had knowledge of its location, and in exchange for it Tharios peddled our Order like a whoremonger.
 
Regardless, a flame will rise from the South and the West will burn.
 
Death howls in the sky, Chaim, which leads me to believe that Tharios may know where the third piece is.”

Chaim shook his head.
 
“The stave can be used with only one of the end caps.”

“Then what’s the second one for?”

“One end has the power to bind anything not of this realm, and the other can open a Runic Gateway.
 
What good is a binding enchantment if you have nothing to bind?”
 
Marsais inhaled sharply.
 
“Do I dare ask?”

“What do you know of the passages beneath this tower?”

“You can’t tell me he knows about the tomb?
 
Only Archlords are supposed to know.”

“And apparently the Guardians,” he quipped.
 
“Tharios is ambitious, Chaim.
 
Capable of wearing any mask he chooses.
 
I have reason to suspect that he is more aware of—memories beyond the River than he has a right to.
 
Tharios will be Archlord, I have foreseen it, and everyone else has for that matter.
 
I’m very unpopular at the moment.”

“Then make yourself agreeable.”

“It would not change matters.
 
He will be Archlord.”

“Then I suggest you kill him, or this realm will surely be lost.”

“Hmm.”
 
Marsais stroked his braid.
 
“You forget the Tapestry of Time, my friend.
 
A path begins at one spot and it will end at the next.
 
It’s too late to turn back.
 
The sands have already begun to slide, and the rocks will follow, one way or another.
 
Perhaps in my attempt to kill him I will only expedite the end.”

“I didn’t say attempt, and you’re confusing me again.”

“No more than I confuse myself,” Marsais chuckled.
 
“We must wait for a Crossroad to reveal itself, Chaim, and choose a direction when the time comes.”

“In that case, I might as well tell you of the third piece.
 
The end cap in the South is the Gateway enchantment—by far, the more dangerous of the two considering what lies beneath the Spine.
 
The binding part was hidden right under their noses in Fomorri.
 
Have you ever heard of the Finnow Spire?”

“The Unicorn’s Horn?” he asked, and the Guardian nodded.

“It’s very well protected.”

“That’s always relative.”

“I’ll see who I have nearby to help,” Chaim offered with a heavy sigh.
 
“We’ve had our hands full with other matters of late.
 
If this new threat erupts, I fear it will stretch this realm to its limit.”

“Hmm, and here I thought you’ve been lounging around Iilenshar bedding Zahra’s Valkryies.”

“It’s the other way around,” Chaim grinned.
 
“I don’t have much choice where they’re concerned.”

“O, you poor bastard.”

“I’m not sure how I’ve survived all these years,” Chaim agreed, but then the god turned serious again.
 
“Keep me informed, will you?”

“Of course.”
 
Marsais hesitated.
 
“I had a few questions of a more personal nature.”

“Your wound?”

“No, not that.”
 
Marsais dismissed it with a wave of his hand before continuing, “My apprentice was raped—”

“The giant Nuthaanian?” Chaim choked in surprise.

“No, oh by the gods, no!”
 
Marsais pushed the thought from his mind.
 
“I’ve had a new apprentice for the last two years who happens to be the Nuthaanian’s daughter, and as it turns out, is also a nymph.”

“You have a nymph for an apprentice?”
 
Chaim asked, carefully, silver eyes narrowing on the other ancient, searching for any sign of escalating lunacy.

“Has your hearing gone?
 
Didn’t I just say that?”

Chaim shook his head in disbelief.
 
“Your choice of apprentices never cease to surprise me, Marsais.
 
I thought you were insane when you dragged that crazed berserker from the gutters.
 
To say nothing of the dragon, or Nereus’ daughter, and I try to forget the fiend all together—what was her name?”

“Saavedra.”

“Didn’t she try to kill you in the end?”

“They all generally try to at some point in their apprenticeship,” Marsais shrugged.

“Has the nymph?”

“Not intentionally.”

“How much have you taught her in two years?” Chaim asked, incredulously.
 
“Can she weave the Gift?”

“Depends if she feels like it.”
 
At the thought of Isiilde, a smile spread across his long lips.
 
“And when she does—it is flawless.
 
She’s as hot-headed as her father, and possesses a strange affinity with fire.”
 
Marsais quickly skimmed over the events surrounding Isiilde, the complications of her ties with Kambe, and her impending sell.

“I’ve never heard of a nymph like her,” the Guardian admitted when Marsais had finished his tale.
 
“There have been nymphs of power as they are known, but their affinity was for water or earth.
 
Their powers subtle and unobtrusive.
 
There was nothing destructive about them.”

“Have you ever heard of a nymph fighting her attacker?”

The Guardian shook his head.
 
“They are usually docile creatures, even when harmed, though they generally attempt to flee.”

“There’s nothing docile about this one,” Marsais grinned in spite of himself.
 
“You should see her when she’s angry.
 
I question the time I have left in this realm when her eyes flash.
 
That’s why it’s paramount we keep her spirit intact.”

“If that was the only reason then you would have taken her yourself, my friend.
 
Before any of this happened.”
 
Chaim smiled with knowing eyes.

Marsais cleared his throat.
 
“What I wanted to ask, before you leave, is if you know how the Eldritch took their Bond?
 
I can’t seem to recall.”

“I wasn’t an Eldritch,” replied Chaim.
 
“I was too young, but from what I understand, it had to be given freely, from the nymph to the Druid.
 
But in this case, the Bond is no longer hers to give, so Stievin would have to freely pass it to someone else and that doesn’t sound like an option.”

“No,” Marsais admitted, feeling his heart sink.

“You’re right about the Law though.
 
Why do you think I didn’t fight it?
 
It serves its purpose.
 
Not only did the Law stop the wars, but it also leaves an opening for the nymph, which few realize.

“Kambe may hold her attacker responsible, but if someone else takes her Bond from Stievin then the Emperor has no further claim—she is no longer his stolen property.
 
The Laws of Challenge will be observed.
 
The paladins will interpret the Law as you have, and if they don’t, send word to me immediately.
 
You will have Iilenshar’s full support and I doubt the Emperor would be fool enough to defy us.”

There was that, at least.
 
Marsais nodded in gratitude.

“You know,” Chaim began slowly, pulling up his gleaming cowl to conceal his features.
 
“If she is as willful as you claim then your answer is quite obvious.”

“It is?”
 
Marsais tilted his head in puzzlement.

“Let her
choose
a man, and hope he is quick with a blade.”

The mists parted, understanding came into focus, and Marsais slowly closed his eyes with a whisper of regret—
What a fool I am.

“You can’t tell me a nymph who has been Awakened for three months hasn’t had her eye on at least one man.”
 
The Guardian smiled beneath his hood and faded, leaving the Seer with a spark of hope in the middle of nowhere.

Thirty-nine