The Keeper's Shadow (34 page)

“Read it to me!” says Roan, eagerly.

She brings the paper close to her eyes and reads. “
Now it is time to tell you of the ring. I have burdened you and your sister with a great responsibility; the ring is my one gift. I have left it with Steppe. She will pass it on to her daughter, who will see that you receive it
.”

Roan rubs his half of the badger ring with the tip of his thumb. “Go on,” he urges.

“
The badger is known for its tenacity and ability to survive. It can be helpful to you in many ways. By now, you and your sister should be linked to the ring and through it to each other. You see, despite its being broken, it retains the desire to make itself whole and that can be very useful indeed. To explain
…”

THE PRIMARY'S INTERROGATION

USE WHAT YOUR ENEMY SEEKS AS YOUR SHIELD, AND WITHDRAW ALL ELSE TO THE CORE. AN ENEMY WILL RARELY LOOK PAST WHAT YOU APPEAR TO VALUE IF THEY DESIRE IT AS WELL.

—THE WAY OF THE WAZYA

S
TOWE IS BEING ESCORTED TO A FITTING BY TWO
C
LERICS
when her body begins to shake uncontrollably.
Willum!
The call is sent before she has time to censor it.

What is it?

I don't know.
The Clerics walking on either side of her do not appear to notice the convulsions that are tearing her apart. She glances anxiously around, trying to think of a way to stall them without arousing any suspicion, but waves of nausea are preventing her from connecting one thought with another. Willum appears before her just as she feels her knees give way.

“Our Stowe has been summoned,” he says, and without any explanation whatsoever, his arm glides under hers. Supporting almost all her weight, he whisks her down the corridor out of the Clerics' sight.

“I need to go to my room,” she whispers, barely able to shape the words.

Indicating that Willum should join her, she shuts the door behind them. Holding up her hand, she shows Willum the half-ring. It's glowing: she can see the path of its energy as it surges through her bones, down her spine, pulling her, pulling her.

Willum lifts her into his arms.
It's alright. I'll watch over you.
And slipping from her skin, Stowe is drawn away.

A
DELUGE OF FLAMING STONES PLUMMETS TOWARD HER AND SHE DUCKS
. I
NCHES FROM HER FACE, THEY EXPLODE, SOMEHOW LEAVING HER UNSCATHED
. O
NE COLLISION AFTER ANOTHER DEFINES THE INVISIBLE BUBBLE THAT SURROUNDS HER
. T
HE SLATE FLOOR SHE'S STANDING ON TREMBLES
. T
HE AIR IN FRONT OF HER SHIMMERS AND
R
OAN APPEARS
. H
E FLINCHES AT THE ONSLAUGHT OF FIERY ROCK, THEN, SEEMINGLY UNPERTURBED, HE TURNS TO FACE HER
.

“Y
OU KNOW WHERE WE ARE
?” S
TOWE ASKS, CONFUSED
. “I
T FEELS FAMILIAR, BUT
I
DON'T REMEMBER EVER BEING HERE
.”

“I
HAVE
. W
ITH
R
AT
. I
T'S A SAFE PLACE
.”

“A
ND WHY EXACTLY ARE WE HERE NOW
?”

“A
NEW SECTION OF OUR GREAT-GRANDFATHER'S JOURNAL'S BEEN DECIPHERED
. I
T'S ABOUT THE RING, THE THINGS IT CAN DO
.”

“W
HAT
? L
IKE UNPLEASANT TRAVEL TO EQUALLY UNPLEASANT PLACES
?” S
TOWE GRUMBLES
.

“D
ON'T YOU SEE
? W
E CAN CALL ON EACH OTHER
. M
EET SAFELY HERE
. E
XCHANGE INFORMATION
. Y
OU HAVE TO ADMIT IT'S USEFUL
.”

“A
ND DANGEROUS
. I
ALMOST COLLAPSED IN THE CORRIDORS OF POWER
. I
T WAS LUCKY
W
ILLUM WAS CLOSE BY
. W
E ARE TRYING NOT TO ATTRACT TOO MUCH ATTENTION TO OURSELVES
.”

“T
RUE
. O
UR GREAT-GRANDFATHER SUSPECTED THESE MEETINGS MIGHT HAVE TO BE QUICK
. S
O, NOT ONLY CAN THE RING BRING US TOGETHER, HE SAYS IT CAN ALLOW US TO SHARE OUR MEMORIES INSTANTLY
. W
ANT TO TRY
?”

“D
O
I
HAVE A CHOICE
!” S
TOWE SAYS DRAMATICALLY, ODDLY PLEASED WHEN HER BROTHER SMILES BACK
.

H
OLDING UP HIS HAND,
R
OAN EXPOSES HIS HALF OF THE RING TO HER
. “P
UT YOURS AGAINST MINE
.”

T
OUCHING HER HALF-RING TO HIS, SHE CRIES OUT
. I
T IS AS IF SHE IS CATAPULTING THROUGH A MINOTAUR'S OPEN CHEST,
R
OAN'S MEMORIES BECOMING HER OWN AS THEY PASS THROUGH HIS HALF-RING INTO HERS
. I
T TAKES ALL HER CONCENTRATION TO SIMULTANEOUSLY ACCESS HER EXPERIENCES AT
C
OOPERATION
U
NLIMITED AND OFFER THEM TO
R
OAN, BUT ONCE THERE SHE FEELS THE FORCE OF WHAT SHE REMEMBERS—THE VAPOR BEING DRAWN OUT BY THE ENABLER AND THEN FED SOMEHOW TO
D
ARIUS'S
T
HRONE, HER OWN STRUGGLE TO ESCAPE DESTRUCTION—BEING DRAWN FROM HER IN A FLASH
.

T
HE EXCHANGE COMPLETED, SHE DROPS HER HAND, LOOKING WRYLY AT HER EVER EARNEST BROTHER
.

“S
O
. Y
OU GET TO KILL A GOD
. A
NY IDEA WHY
?”

“N
ONE
. W
ELL…MAYBE…A MONTH OR SO AGO, I HAD THIS VISION
…”

“D
O YOU SEE THE FUTURE
? W
ILLUM SEES THE FUTURE
. H
E DOESN'T LIKE IT MUCH
. I
HAVEN'T HAD A REAL VISION YET
. W
HAT'S IT
—”

“S
TOWE
!”

“S
ORRY
. I
T'S EXCITING, IS ALL
. P
LEASE
. T
ELL ME YOUR VISION
.”

“I
SACRIFICED A BULL AND ITS BLOOD HEALED THE
N
OVAKIN
. S
O NOW
I
CAN'T HELP THINKING KILLING THE
F
RIEND IS SOMEHOW RELATED TO SAVING THE CHILDREN
. B
UT HOW
I'
M SUPPOSED TO DO IT,
I
DON'T KNOW.
A
NY IDEAS
?”

“A
FRAID NOT
. I
F IT MAKES YOU FEEL ANY BETTER, WE DON'T KNOW HOW WE'RE GOING TO STOP
D
ARIUS EITHER
.”

“I
SUPPOSE TRYING TO CONTACT THE
O
VERSHADOWER TO LET HIM KNOW HE'S BEING CHEATED IS OUT OF THE QUESTION
.”

“W
ILLUM AND
I
HAVEN'T RULED THAT OUT
. W
E'RE PLANNING TO GO AND EXPLORE
. T
HERE MIGHT BE A WAY TO EXPOSE
D
ARIUS IN THE REAL WORLD TOO
. W
E'RE THINKING MAYBE
M
ASTER
Q
UERIN IS PLANNING A COUP
. H
E'S TWICE AS CLEVER AS
D
ARIUS, JUST AS TERRIFYING, AND HE IS HIDING SOMETHING
.”

“S
TOWE
…I…” R
OAN STARES AT HER
. S
HE KNOWS HE'S ABOUT TO TELL HER TO BE CAREFUL AND SHE GETS MORE THAN ENOUGH OF THAT FROM
W
ILLUM
.

“I
F
I
FIND OUT ANYTHING ABOUT KILLING A GOD ALONG THE WAY,
I'
LL LET YOU KNOW
. B
UT…ABOUT THE NEXT TIME YOU WANT TO TALK…CAN WE FIND A WAY TO WARN EACH OTHER
? I
T'LL LOOK SUSPICIOUS IF
I
GO AROUND FAINTING EVERY TWO MINUTES
.”

“S
ORRY,
” R
OAN SAYS, AND THE WORRY IN HIS VOICE IS ALMOST MORE THAN SHE CAN BEAR
. “I
N THE JOURNAL IT SAYS OUR LIFE-FORCE IS CONNECTED THROUGH THE RING
. W
E SHOULD BE ABLE TO LET EACH OTHER KNOW IF THERE'S SOMETHING IMPORTANT TO SHARE, THINKING ABOUT SOMETHING FAMILIAR, THAT WE BOTH FEEL STRONGLY ABOUT
. S
OMETHING FROM HOME…WHAT ABOUT THE
B
IG
E
MPTY
? T
HE DAY WE CARVED OUR NAMES IN THE TOP
.”

“M
AYBE
I
THINK ABOUT THAT TOO OFTEN ALREADY
,” S
TOWE SAYS
.

H
ER BROTHER REACHES OUT TO HER
. “S
TOWE, THE
D
IRT
E
ATERS ARE PLANNING SOMETHING
. W
E DON'T KNOW WHAT
…”

B
UT SHE'S ALREADY DISSOLVING BACK INTO HER WORLD
. A
WAY FROM THE PAST
. A
ND A BROTHER WHO ALWAYS MAKES HER WANT TO CRY
. A
ND SHE CAN'T CRY
. N
OT NOW
. M
AYBE NOT EVER
.

Willum is sitting on the chair close to her. The sight of him fills her with a comforting warmth. She is about to speak when he puts his finger to her lips.
Careful
.

The ring took me to Roan. We were able to share what we've learnt.

Good.

The Friend wants Roan to kill him.

She has barely time to enjoy the look of shock on Willum's face when a sharp rap demands their attention.

“Yes?” Stowe brusquely shouts.

The Cleric's reedy voice whistles on the other side of the door. “The Archbishop requests the presence of Our Stowe and her Primary.”

Stowe gives Willum a frightened look.
Could he know? Sense my absence? Did the Clerics—

Assume nothing. Keep your mind clear and ready. Do not reveal yourself.

Willum rises slowly, his demeanor solemn. He holds out his hand. Stowe takes it and he draws her up. Just as they reach the door, she stops, pocketing the half-ring. Willum places a reassuring hand on the small of her back as the door slides open. Repressing her anxieties, Stowe nods benignly and the two clerics lead the way.

Darius is alone. A bag of fluid suspended over his head slowly drips into his carotid artery, an attempt to replenish the cells in his withered body.

Hiding behind a daughter's empathy, Stowe allows a bit of her own despair to color her words. “Oh, Father, what are they doing to you now?”

But Darius's smile is dangerous and razor sharp. “You know these doctors, Daughter, always finding work for themselves.” He motions her and Willum to sit on the high-backed chairs across from him. “I had the most interesting visit today with Master Fortin. Bit of a toad, don't you think?”

Stowe laughs. “You are wicked, Father,” she says, attempting to cajole, “but he does seem to be doing an excellent job.”

“He was most impressed with your speech, my love. He found it terribly…provocative.” His eyes flit across her face.

“How so, Father?” she asks ingenuously.

But his gaze shifts away from her. Onto Willum.

“Fortin's concerns, though, seem mostly to center around your Primary.”

Willum looks back at him guilelessly. “How might I best respond to them, Eldest?”

“I'm not sure, Willum. Fortin seemed to wonder whether you might not be abusing your position.”

“I have always been your servant, Archbishop.”

“Have you really?” Darius's eyes narrow and Stowe is almost blinded by the stream of smalt green light that slices from them directly into Willum's chest.

Willum's knees buckle and he falls to the floor. Stowe wants to cry out, hurl a scream at the ancient man, but she feels pressure around her, holding her back. Who is stopping her, Willum or Darius? She concentrates on the barrier. Willum. It's Willum. Keeping her from exposing herself. Dutifully she relaxes, and attempts to watch with appropriate detachment.

Stowe's amazed that Willum is doing nothing to defend himself. His body convulses again and again as Darius scythes through his mind. Unable to sit back and watch, she rides the intense beam of light, following Darius on his search into Willum's memory.

Master Fortin's agitated face comes into view.
Is Darius planning to retire? To hand over the Conurbation to that girl?

Our Stowe is his daughter.

Some of us have served the Conurbation for three-quarters of a century.

Yes, but we are, none of us, indispensable.

Darius abruptly releases Willum, leaving him an unconscious heap on the floor.

“He is lucky his mind is weak. Had he the skill to resist me, there would be nothing left of him.” Darius sneers. Rising to place his withered hand on Stowe's shoulder, he laughs. “Come, come, Darling, don't pout. He's a mere Primary, easily replaced. Besides, you're becoming too old and too strong to be attached to playthings.”

Stowe has to tighten every muscle in her chest and abdomen to keep from throwing herself on Willum. She wants to listen to his pulse, cry out to whatever life may remain inside him. “You are the only person in my world who truly matters, Father. Still, he was a useful toy. So helpful. I was hoping he'd facilitate my search for Roan and the children.”

Darius's pale eyes look dully at the crumpled man lying at his feet. “A point, my love. But, I promise you, should he not survive, we'll find you another able companion.” Smiling venomously, he cups his skeletal hand under her chin. “Would that satisfy you?”

“Yes, Father,” she says, forcing her eyes to smile, the corners of her lips to curl upward. “That will do.”

“Come!” Darius calls out and a Cleric promptly opens the door and awaits his command. “Take Stowe's Primary to the hospital. See if he can be resuscitated. If not, instruct them to salvage every part. He's an excellent specimen.” The Eldest pulls the intravenous drip closer. “I suppose I shouldn't have exerted myself. I must rest now, Daughter, but I'd like you to dine with me four days hence. I'll see to it your favorites are on the menu. After dessert we will receive a visit from Governor Pollard. I'm interested in what you might think of him.”