The Crow King's Wife (54 page)

“He wanted me to be distracted you mean.”
Zoelyn corrected gently and raised an eyebrow at her mother. “From
what I wonder?”

“Such a suspicious mind.” Cora chided but the
teasing seemed just as forced as her smile had been.

“Are you going to open a scry of the
council?” Zoelyn asked sweetly never taking her gaze from her
mother.

“Of course.” Cora answered and shook her head
slightly. “I didn’t think you would want one so soon. The council
isn’t due to start for over an hour yet.”

“None the less I’d rather not miss out on
anything that is said just in case.” Zoelyn returned in the same
sweet tones. She could see her mother’s unease growing, but she was
doing a remarkable job of trying to hide it.

With a slight nod Cora brought her hands
before her and spread her fingers. She mumbled under her breath and
the air above the table shifted subtly. For a long moment it looked
like nothing more than heated air resting inches above the wood,
and then it solidified into colors that slowly coalesced to form
the figures of the council seated in the massive hall of the Palace
in Sanctuary.

Zoelyn’s eyes scanned hungrily over the
assembled High Lords and lingered on Neph’s drawn face. His mouth
was a tight line and he was staring pointedly at the empty chairs
across the room from him. She saw him glance toward Jala who was
seated several feet away under the banner of House Merrodin and his
expression darkened. Her gaze moved back to the empty chairs and
she studied the banner above the seats. “Morcaillo.” She whispered
as she recognized the blue and silver banner with the twining
snakes. Her attention moved past the sigil to sweep over the rest
of the room and her unease grew as she noticed the empty spaces
below the banners of Rivasa and Nerathane as well.

“It’s early yet.” Cora offered in a hesitant
voice.

Frowning Zoelyn leaned toward the scry. She
could see unease written clearly on the faces of several of the
assembled High Lords, but not all of them seemed to be fixated on
the empty chairs. Lord Arovan in particular had his gaze focused on
the silent row of figures seated just behind the Empress’s dais.
Zoelyn’s eyes narrowed as she studied the priestly robes. “Death,
Love, Fortune, Elusion, and Healing. What a very odd assembly of
priests.” She observed dryly as she noticed the Priest of Fortune
tapping his leg. There was a definite rhythm to the motion of his
fingers and she could almost hear the song in her head as she
lifted her gaze to meet Cora’s face once more. “Why is my father
masquerading as a priest of his own order?” she asked sternly. Cora
shifted uncomfortably and Zoelyn’s expression darkened. “More
importantly why is Finn seated there as well? Those are warrior’s
boots peeking out from under the Priest of Death’s robes and I
recognize them all too well.”

“What is coming must happen, Zoelyn. I told
Fortune we should warn you, but he forbade it. Finn has commanded
absolute silence on this matter.” Cora explained with heavy sigh
that was laced with frustration.

“What is coming Mother?” Zoelyn demanded, but
a soft rap at the door interrupted before Cora could answer. With a
glare that warned her mother the discussion was not over Zoelyn
rose from her seat. Anger warred with concern in her mind as she
crossed to the door and pulled it open.

Syrah stood in the hall beyond with pursed
lips and worry filling her grey eyes. The child had made a rough
attempt at making herself presentable. Her long dark hair pulled
back in a crooked braid with strands poking out in several places
and her clothes were clean ones even if they didn’t match. Every
inch of the child screamed of neglect in her father’s absence and
Zoelyn silently scolded herself for not making sure Syrah had
better care. Shifting nervously from foot to foot Syrah stared up
at her and swallowed heavily.

All anger faded from Zoelyn as she considered
the child’s expression and realized how she must have looked as she
pulled the door open. “I’m sorry, Syrah. I must have looked like
quite the ogre when you first saw me. I was having a disagreement
with my mother, Sweety. It wasn’t your knock that was making me
glower.” She explained gently as she dropped to a knee to tie the
child’s boot lace.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you.” Syrah offered
in apology and shifted once more before meeting Zoelyn’s eyes. “I
heard them say you would be watching the council today before they
left the Great Hall.” She admitted softly. “Lord Valor seemed
confused by your absence and Lady Jala said you couldn’t come, but
you would be watching.” The girl’s voice was filled with
nervousness and Zoelyn silently wondered how much Grim had warned
her of the Undrae to create so much unease in his daughter.

“I will be.” Zoelyn agreed keeping her voice
as gentle as possible. She didn’t want Syrah to fear her. She
wouldn’t hurt any child no matter what kind of monster Grim seemed
to believe she was.

Syrah’s eyes lit with hope and she swallowed
nervously once more. “Can I watch with you please? I think my Daddy
might be there and I just want to see him. I want to know he is
ok.” The words poured from Syrah and her nerves seemed to evaporate
in her desperation.

“Oh Syrah.” Zoelyn murmured as she carefully
took the child’s hands and noticed how the girl didn’t flinch away
from her touch. Even with the gloves on Syrah would have likely
pulled away if Grim had explained the nature of Undrae to her. So
all of the fear was for her Father’s safety then, Zoelyn realized
and her heart went out to the child. Syrah had just lost her mother
and brother while her entire home burned around her, and now her
father was gone as well. She was alone in a strange city and she
was trying desperately to hide her fear so she wouldn’t disappoint
her father on his return.

“I just want to see him.” Syrah repeated in a
broken voice and tried to turn her face away before Zoelyn could
see the beginning of tears in her eyes. “It’s been three days since
he left and he didn’t even say good-bye.” She added hoarsely.

“You are welcome to watch with me all day,
Syrah, but I don’t think you will see your Father on the scry. I
don’t think he will be at the council, Sweety. He doesn’t want the
High Lords to know he still lives and he went looking for Shade.
Shade is an outlaw in Sanctuary. If he shows up at the council they
will throw him in prison.” Zoelyn explained as she stood and pulled
the girl gently into the room behind her. Her gaze rose to meet her
mother’s as she pushed the door shut behind her and her eyes
narrowed in warning. “I’m not sure what the scry of the Council
will be like, but I hope for both our sakes everything turns out
well.” She tried to keep the edge from her voice to spare Syrah,
but she could tell Cora heard her anger clearly by the chagrined
look on her face.

With a bright smile Cora motioned the child
forward. “I’m sure everything will be just fine.” She assured them
both and motioned again for Syrah to approach. “Did you fix your
hair yourself, Darling? Come here and let me straighten it a bit
for you. You can see the scry from my knee and I will make sure you
look like the perfect young lady I’m sure you are, just in case
your Father arrives today.”

At first Syrah seemed hesitant, but the
thought of her father returning seemed to spur the child. Moving
swiftly she dropped Zoelyn’s hands and scampered toward Cora
completely oblivious to the dark glare of warning Zoelyn was giving
her mother.

“False hope is worse than lying.” Zoelyn
whispered as she reclaimed her seat at the table and lifted the
puzzle box once more. She wasn’t the least bit interested in
practicing her skills at the moment, but it would give her
something to do to keep her hands from clenching into fists.

Sanctuary

The cold had seeped all the way through his
joints and Shade was certain once they finally did step from the
Shadow realm he would be blind the moment he confronted sunlight
again. His gaze lingered on the blurred outlines of prisoners
milling aimlessly in their cells and he resisted the urge to count
them as he turned and paced across the hall.

He knew exactly how many people were in the
cell before him. He knew exactly how many people were in all of the
cells that filled the massive prison. Grim had insisted that they
explore the place thoroughly and for two days they had been doing
little else. He knew the exact distance of each hall, how thick the
walls were, and where Charm was being held. What he didn’t know was
why they were still waiting.

With sheer frustration fueling his movements
he spun to face Grim. The Shifter sat with his back pressed against
a wall intent on something in his hands. His expression was relaxed
though his grey eyes were narrowed with concentration. Frowning
Shade paced closer in an attempt to see what was keeping the man so
well occupied but the gloom of the hall and Grim’s nimble fingers
obscured everything but a thin leather cord that dangled across one
of his legs.

“I don’t understand why we are waiting.”
Shade snapped impatiently.

“Six times.” Grim muttered not bothering to
look up from his work.

“I think we should just move now. If we use
stealth we can get Charm and the others out without anyone
noticing.” Shade continued not bothering to acknowledge Grim’s
comment at all. He knew perfectly well how many times he had
repeated himself without the Priest pointing it out every time he
spoke.

“We wait for the council meeting to start.”
Grim said repeating the same tired words he had used every time
Shade had broached the subject.

“If we follow your plan and release all of
the prisoners we will cause a riot in the city.” Shade pressed and
tried to let enough of his frustration bleed into his voice that
Grim might actually listen.

“The Fionaveir should have considered that
before they locked so many innocent people away. They can’t be left
here to rot forever, and they will provide us with a very nice
distraction for our escape.” Grim countered in a distracted
voice.

“This is a perfect example of you doing the
right thing for the wrong reasons.” Shade pointed out bluntly and
glared down at the Priest.

“Yes it is.” Grim agreed without the faintest
hint of remorse. He let out a sigh and finally raised his eyes to
meet Shade’s furious glare. “If we tried to sneak out of here like
you want Myth would have the perfect opportunity to ambush us
during our escape. Without the benefit of the entire prison rioting
we will be forced to cut our way through the Fionaveir. I’d much
rather face Myth one on one than with an army of angry prison
guards at his back, and I feel inclined to point out once again
that Myth is a High Lord and you are an outlaw. Who do you think
the Fionaveir guards will listen to? Especially if we have a
handful of prisoners with us.”

“The Fionaveir used to be outlaws.” Shade
pointed out lamely but he could tell there was no point of pressing
the conversation further. Grim’s logic was sound and he knew it. “I
just don’t like the idea of causing a riot.” He muttered as he
paced across the hall once more.

“There is a very good chance you are going to
wear a path if you don’t try to sit still for a bit. Calm down and
trust me. This will work.” Grim said with a sigh as he shifted his
position against the wall to stretch his legs. “Smoke a cigarette
or something.” He suggested with a smirk.

“I’m out.” Shade returned glumly but forced
himself to stop his pacing and returned to sit across from Grim.
“I’d just rather it was over with.” He admitted and ran a hand
through his hopelessly tousled hair.

“That much is obvious.” Grim observed dryly
as he tossed the object he had been working on toward Shade. “I’d
appreciate it if you didn’t lose that.” He said as Shade caught the
leather cord and stared down at the black amulet attached to
it.

“What is it?” he asked as he turned it over
in his hands and studied the twisting wires that wrapped around the
black stone fastening it securely to the leather cord. He could see
tiny runes etched in the stone, but didn’t recognize the magic
enough to tell what their purpose was.

“It’s a Bloodstone and given the fact that it
is fashioned with my blood I will be in a world of misery if you
lose it. You seem so paranoid about being tricked by Myth that I
figured you would like a bit of reassurance. It’s the same as the
bracelet I have fashioned with your blood, and it serves no other
purpose than to let you know when I am nearby. The stone will be
warm when I’m present. If you see me and it’s not warm kill
whatever is imitating me.” Grim explained.

“What if there is Barllen nearby that is
causing the amulet to malfunction and I actually kill you rather
than an imposter.” Shade asked as he tied the amulet around his
neck and tucked it safely under his shirt.

A snort of amusement burst from Grim’s lips
then he noticed Shade’s dry expression and dissolved into a fit of
laughter that lasted for several minutes. Shade continued to glare
at him until Grim managed to get himself back under control. Still
chuckling faintly Grim wiped a hand across his face and beamed a
smile at Shade. “Thank you for that.” He said then shook his head
at Shade as he rose to his feet. “Kill the real me.” He mumbled and
shook his head again still smiling widely.

“You know I did drop you to the stones in
Delvay.” Shade reminded him and struggled to keep the petulant tone
from his voice.

“Yes you did.” Grim agreed in a placating
voice and smiled indulgently down at Shade as if he were a child.
“And it will never ever happen again.” He added with a wink.

“I’m not a complete bitch!” Shade protested
as he rose to his feet as well.

“I know you aren’t.” Grim agreed pleasantly
as he began to walk slowly toward the end of the hall.