Dagger's Edge (Shadow series) (3 page)

“Now,
that’s
imaginative,” Shadow laughed. “That explains the pointed ears, I guess, but could he explain why we don’t have tails?”

“It’s not funny,” Donya said impatiently. “Shadow, you haven’t
been
here, not enough to see what’s going on. The city hasn’t been the same since the Crimson Plague. You remember what happened then—humans blaming elves for the plague, riots, murders—”

“Oh, come now,” Shadow protested. “There’s always bound to be a fuss when something like that happens. After your wedding, when everybody was well again, things settled down again pretty quickly.”

“Yes, for the year before you turned the Guild over to Aubry and flew off to see the world,” Donya agreed, “it settled down. More than a third of the human population of Allanmere had died, Shady. But the resentment was still there, especially following so soon after your Guild—and consequently the elves—made such a comeback at the expense of the Council of Churches. People remembered that, Shady, especially the Council of Churches.”

Shadow grimaced.

“I’d have thought that lot would have gotten over it by that time,” she said. “Even old Vikram.”

“Vikram died in the Crimson Plague,” Donya told her. “And
that
wasn’t overlooked, either. Three years after that the elves discovered that new dye process and set the Dyers’ Guild back half its profits. Then five years later, when the elves discovered that gold up by North Heart and flooded the market with it so the value of the Sun dropped—”

“Oh, please,” Shadow chuckled. “Most of those forest elves had never held so much as a copper in their hands in their lives. Is it any wonder they threw their new wealth around foolishly?”

“Hmmm, seems I’ve seen a certain city elf do a bit of that herself, and she’d certainly had plenty of time to learn better,” Donya sniffed, but she had to chuckle at Shadow’s wide-eyed, innocent expression.

“Well, what’s this got to do with this Temple of Baaros?” Shadow asked. “And Jael, for that matter?”

“All I’m saying is that the seeds of anti-elven sentiment were planted before Jael was even born,” Donya said patiently, “and it just kept growing as one thing after the other seemed to—well, as if your Fortune had Her right hand on the elves and Her left on the humans. And then when Jaellyn was born alone, instead of twins, and the way she looks—”

“Oh, Fortune favor me,” Shadow groaned. “I thought
that
mess died down a few months after Jael was born.”

“Well, it did,” Donya admitted. “The general consensus was that the House of Sharl had been marrying into elven blood for so many generations that it really wasn’t the same anymore as an elf-human marriage. That caused a little consternation among the humans, but at least they stopped muttering about Jaellyn. But then when Mera and Markus were born, it all started up again, worse than ever, with the anti-elven faction shouting the loudest, of course. And of course it doesn’t help that disaster seems to follow Jaellyn around like a wolf on a trail, and that she can’t seem to master any useful skill.”

“How bad can it be?” Shadow shrugged. “I mean, Jael’s plainly got elven blood; that’s never been disputed. And there’s certainly no doubt in the world she’s your daughter, not when you went into labor in the middle of a Fortune-be-damned City Council meeting!”

“The city’s splitting apart, Shady, and Jael’s the wedge,” Donya sighed. “Argent and I have been fighting this ever since the wedding, but it just gets worse. The Temple of Baaros is growing every day. Do you know, there are shops and inns and taverns all over town that have ‘No elves admitted’ signs over their doors despite the laws and the fines, and twice as many that unofficially make elves unwelcome. The Dyers’ Guild has canceled every elven apprentice and won’t even deal with elven merchants. Elves are starting to retaliate in their own businesses, and the forest zone patrols are getting—well, even I would call it a little brutal in dealing with poachers and trespassers. The only reason trade between the forest and the city hasn’t been choked off altogether is because of Argent’s contacts and influence with the other merchants.”

“Jael,” Shadow prompted, and Jael leaned a little closer, eager to catch every word.

“It’s obvious that Jaellyn has some of the old wild blood,” Donya said wearily. “One look at her shows it. The elves see it as a sign from the Mother Forest that the elven influence in the city will grow with her as Heir. The humans see it as just another sign that their own influence is decreasing, and they want Jael bypassed as Heir and one of the twins—preferably Mera—chosen instead. It’s not without precedent; Sharl the Ninth passed over his two eldest.”

“Oh, please,” Shadow groaned. “He did that because he had no choice; Rulia was barren and crippled, too, and Romal the Black never took anybody but stableboys and the occasional goat to his bed. Everybody in the city knows that.”

“That’s not the point,” Donya told her. “Half the council wants Jael declared Heir immediately, and preferably betrothed even sooner, and the other half wants me to send her quietly off to some distant city to be fostered, wait a decent interval, and
then
choose one of the twins. Either way, somebody will be very, very upset. Every day I wait, they push a little harder. I was afraid to send Jael to the forest this summer, for fear either the elves or the humans would see it as significant.”

“Well, it sounds to me as if the Temple of Baaros is the bellows that fans the fire,” Shadow speculated. “Don’t forget that anti-elven preachings mean Argent, and you, too, Doe. It could grow into covert or even open rebellion against the ruling line because of your elven blood. Do something about them, first.”

“What should we do?” Donya asked helplessly. “We have no precedent for interfering with any temple’s doctrines when they aren’t actually breaking city law, and acting against the Temple of Baaros will be seen as taking the elves’ side against the humans. According to Ankaras, two days from now the Temple of Baaros will be holding their Lesser Summoning. That’s when Baaros himself will appear to instruct the faithful in the signs he’ll send prior to his manifestation at the Grand Summoning. It’s reaching a crisis point. I’ve sent messengers to other cities with elven and human populations to see if they’ve had any trouble with this particular temple, and how they’ve dealt with it. I still haven’t heard from a few, but most say the temple has caused no trouble. Our problem seems unique.”

“Well, I have to admit that Jael doesn’t seem to have much of Argent in her,” Shadow said slowly. “Doe, has it ever occurred to you that—”

“At least three times an hour,” Donya said miserably. “But how can I know? Argent has some Hidden Folk ancestry; so does my mother.”

“That’s not exactly what I meant,” Shadow said gently.

“I know.” Donya reached for a goblet of wine, and Jael saw, to her amazement, that her mother’s hands were shaking. “But it’s impossible, Shady. Just
look
at her. Her ears, her height—”

“Her coloring,” Shadow said softly. “Her foot.”

Jael leaned a little closer, careful not to rustle the ivy. This
was
getting interesting. What in the world were they talking about?

“I tell you, it’s not possible,” Donya insisted. “I took that goldenroot potion every single day until the day of my wedding.”

“But you had the plague,” Shadow persisted. “I’ve seen severe illness make the goldenroot ineffective. Not to mention all the healing potions Argent gave you, plus the potion that cured the plague, plus all the strange magic at that temple. Any of those things could have made a difference.”

“Damn all, Shady, one toe doesn’t prove anything,” Donya exclaimed angrily. “It could just as likely have happened at that elven festival just a few days before.”

“Have you talked to Jaellyn about any of this?” Shadow asked gently.

“No, I haven’t, and I don’t want you to, either,” Donya said adamantly.

“Don’t you think she’s got a right to know?” Shadow pressed. “Doe, she’s the one who’s being insulted—and she knows it, too, even if she doesn’t really understand.”

“I said no, and I meant it,” Donya said stonily. “Not a word, Shady, not a hint.”

“Well, what if it turns out that Argent isn’t really—”

Jael leaned a little closer, just a
little
—

—and her bracing foot slipped, and Jael teetered precariously for just a moment before she tumbled off her perch. One flailing hand barely caught the ivy, and for a few moments Jael hung there under the window, praying that just for once her luck would hold and that her mother hadn’t heard the noise.

Once more her luck failed her; she could hear Donya’s quick footsteps toward the window. Just in time, Jael found a toehold in the stone and slid under the projection of the window. Donya leaned out the window, but overlooked Jael’s small form under the ledge in the darkness.

“What’s the matter?” Shadow said, joining the High Lady at the window.

“I thought I heard something,” Donya said. She leaned a little farther out, and Jael ground her teeth, wishing she could melt into the comfortable solidity of the stone wall.

“You surely did,” Shadow said. “Look there. That’s a good storm building up to the north. I can already hear the thunder. I’d say no more than half an hour, maybe less, till it gets here.”

Donya let Shadow coax her back from the window, and Jael allowed herself a silent sigh of relief, then climbed back to her perch as quietly and carefully as she could.

“Have you asked Jael what
she
wants?” Shadow asked.

“Oh, be reasonable, Shady,” Donya said irritably. “In truth, it just doesn’t matter
what
the children of nobility want, does it? I wouldn’t be here if it did. Jaellyn can’t sit still for half an hour, she can’t seem to master any of her lessons, and everything she touches either breaks or falls on her. She’d be utterly miserable as High Lady, probably even more miserable than me. Mera or Markus would be a better choice, there’s no avoiding it.”

Jael barely stifled a huge sigh of relief. She’d been heartily dreading the day she would be declared Heir.

“But if I pass Jaellyn over,” Donya continued, “the elves will complain, and the humans who have objected to her will feel that they’ve forced me to choose in their favor, and where will
that
end once it starts?”

Shadow sighed exasperatedly.

“Donya, just what did you want
me
to do?”

“I don’t know,” Donya said, more softly. “I don’t know that there’s anything you can do. I just wanted your advice.”

“Well, you don’t want to listen when I give it,” Shadow said impatiently. “Are you listening to yourself? I’ve heard about the Temple of Baaros, I’ve heard about the humans, I’ve heard about the elves. The city’s falling apart, the world’s a mess. This was all supposed to be about Jael, but you’ve talked to me about everything
but
her. I think you’re looking at this whole thing tail end first.”

“What do you mean?” Donya asked suspiciously.

“Start with the smaller problems first. I think first of all we need to get Celene to pay a visit,” Shadow said. “Your mother once said she thought there was magery in Jael. Let’s find out just what Jael’s trouble is. With that much wild blood in her, she’s more than likely barren, and then you’ll
have
to pass her by; even the elves will understand that. At least it gives you a place to start.”

“Well, that’s sound enough,” Donya admitted cautiously.

Jael ground her teeth with frustration. This wasn’t what she’d been wanting to hear, not at all.

“And in the meantime,” Shadow said firmly, “let’s dig Argent out of council chambers, send for the children, and have supper.”

“And stop thinking about it in the meantime, right?” Donya said sarcastically. “Just like pinching out a candle.”

“Think about it all you like,” Shadow laughed. “Just don’t keep talking about it, or you’ll spoil our supper.”

The two women turned toward the door, and Jael scrambled quickly back to her room. It took a little longer than she liked, and she collided with the maid sent to summon her in the hall rather than meeting her at Jael’s room, but the servants were used to crashing into Jael in the halls anyway. Jael took only a moment to struggle into a clean tunic and rake a comb through her short, tangled bronze curls before she raced headlong down the halls and stairs to the dining hall.

She stopped outside the dining hall and hesitated outside the door, hoping to hear something more, but at that moment the twins appeared and swept her through the door in a wave of giggles. Jael disgustedly took her seat, glowering at Markus and Mera, who blithely kept up a nonstop racket until Argent silenced them with a stern glance.

Jael usually managed to dodge post-council family suppers. Mother and Father were invariably in a terrible mood, and Markus and Mera equally invariably filled the uncomfortable silence with irritating chatter. With Shadow present, however, supper became a game, Shadow’s lively stories of her adventures cheering Jael’s parents and keeping the twins silently enthralled. Jael ate ravenously, content to sit quietly and listen to Aunt Shadow spin stories of faraway lands, glad to see Mother lose her worried frown and Father his air of patient resignation. Even the servants lingered to hear the stories, refilling goblets a little more frequently than was really necessary; by the time supper was over, Mother and Father had had a little too much wine and were in a far more jovial mood.

Jael, however, was feeling anything but jovial. The wine only made her feel dizzy and queasy, unlike everyone else she knew. Once more she had failed to find out exactly
what
about her so concerned her mother and the City Council, and now here she was at the dining table feeling sick and head-spun while Aunt Shadow and the family enjoyed themselves.

Jael stared resolutely at the nearest light globe in its cup, the only object on the table that didn’t make her feel like spewing her supper. The light globes were simple magic but infinitely useful, and Allanmere had traded for the spell as soon as it had been developed in Northreach. They could be extinguished with a word and relit with another, and unlike candles, they didn’t drip wax into the food. She could feel their steady magic, quiet and unobtrusive, solid as stone. If Grandmother Celene was right and Jael had the makings of a mage, maybe one day she’d be able to create spells like the light globes. It would be pleasant to be around magic all day long; its presence started a rather pleasurable humming sensation somewhere under her breastbone—