The Measure of the Magic (10 page)

“I will gather a fresh detachment of men from the village to clear Declan Reach of the dead and to occupy the defenses until further help comes. I will go with them myself. The council can act for me in my absence. But you need to travel quickly, Panterra. Find Esselline and any who might be coming with him and tell them we are at great risk and to hurry.”

Pan straightened. “I will leave at once.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Skeal Eile snapped. “Look at you. Any fool can
see you wouldn’t get five miles in your condition. You need to sleep for at least twelve hours. Rested, you might have a chance of getting the job done.”

“He is right, Panterra,” Pogue agreed immediately. “You’ve been through a lot. Go to bed. Sleep as long as you need to and leave when you wake.”

“You’ll make sure Arik Siq is locked away and guarded well?” he asked, glancing down one final time at his prisoner.

Pogue nodded. “You have my word.”

Pan leaned on the black staff momentarily, wondering if there was anything left undone, anything forgotten. He could think of nothing.

“I’m going, then,” he said, and went out the door and into the brightness of the new day.

H
E HAD TOLD THEM
he was going, but he hadn’t told them where. Sleep was necessary, but it would have to wait. Instead, he went straight to Aislinne Kray to tell her about Sider. He wasn’t looking forward to doing this and would have preferred that someone else carry the news. But he didn’t feel right leaving it up to Pogue, who would at least in some measure be relieved that the Gray Man was out of her life forever.

So he walked the familiar roadways and paths of the village—this new bearer of the black staff every bit as tattered and spectral as Sider Ament had ever looked, no better in appearance than the poorest beggar—until he had reached Aislinne’s home and was standing at her door.

He took a deep breath, exhaled, and knocked softly.

“Panterra,” she gasped when she opened the door and saw him. She took in the wreckage of his appearance, and then her eyes found the black staff he was holding and she sagged visibly. “He’s dead, isn’t he,” she whispered.

He nodded. “Two days ago, at Declan Reach. Poisoned darts from a blowgun. He was caught by surprise and he couldn’t …”

She held up one hand quickly. “Stop. Don’t say anything more. It’s enough to know that he’s gone.”

He looked down at his feet, embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”

“I know. But let it alone.”

“Your name was the last word he spoke.”

She was crying now, not bothering to hide it. “Look at you. What did you have to go through to get back here?” She took his arm and led him inside, closing the door behind him. She led him over to a chair and sat him down. “Wait here.”

She disappeared for a few minutes and then was back with clean cloths, hot water, and bandages. She knelt in front of him and cleaned his wounds and bound them up, not saying anything as she did so, absorbed in her task. Panterra let her be. He knew enough to keep quiet while she struggled to come to terms with the news.

“Does Pogue know?” she asked as she was finishing up, getting ready to take away the bloodied water and cloths.

“I went to him first. Skeal Eile was there, too.”

She said nothing more as she picked up the water and cloths and carried them out of the room. She was gone for several minutes this time, and he sat thinking on what he had said he would do to find Esselline and how all along he had intended to do something else completely. He wondered if he should tell Aislinne. What would she think of him?

When she came back into the room, she took a seat across from him, hands folded in her lap. “I see that he did not keep his word to me. Even at the end, he failed.”

“What do you mean?”

She gestured at the staff. “He persuaded you to take that. I begged him not to. I told him your life was your own and not his to manipulate. But it didn’t matter. He had made up his mind about you. Now you will carry the staff and do his work.”

“I made the choice. He didn’t have any hold on me when he asked it of me. It was at the end of things. He was dying, and he needed someone to take the staff from him. I took it because I knew what it would mean to refuse when so much threatens the valley and our people. I couldn’t just walk away, Aislinne. I can’t pretend the need isn’t there when I know it is.”

She sighed. “No, I suppose not. I think it was like that for him, too.” She shook her head. “I just know what it means when you carry the
staff, Panterra. I know what it will do to you, to any plans you might have for your life. It becomes the reason for everything. You give up so much.”

He knew it was so. He supposed he had always known. It was why he had been so reticent even to consider the idea. He might have managed to avoid taking on the responsibility for it if the Gray Man hadn’t been dying right in front of him—and if his own guilt for his part in it hadn’t been so strong. Not only about Sider, who had died defending him, but about Prue, as well. Leaving her behind, coming back without her, doing nothing as yet to save her—it was too much for him to bear. He knew that. He understood what he had done and what he must now do.

“I have something else to tell you, Aislinne,” he said finally. “Something you won’t like. I brought back the man who killed Sider. His name is Arik Siq. He is the son of the Drouj Maturen whose army threatens the valley. Pogue has agreed to hold him prisoner so that we can use him to bargain with. I think Pogue will do the right thing, but I am not sure about the Seraphic. Will you do what you can to make sure Pogue doesn’t go back on his promise to me?”

She nodded slowly. “It won’t be easy, but I will try. Pogue’s word is usually good, but he is heavily under the influence of Skeal Eile. The council might intervene, as well. Where will you be if this happens?”

He hesitated. “I said I would find out if Hadrian Esselline is coming to help us as he promised. Pogue worries that the people of Glensk Wood are not strong enough by themselves to stop an attack at Declan Reach if it comes. He is right to worry. I have seen the size of the Drouj army.”

She gave him a hard look. “You would go in search of Esselline before seeking out Prue Liss? Why do I find that so difficult to believe? I think maybe you are telling me what you told Pogue, but not what you intend.”

“Maybe I am.” He blushed at the admission. “You know me too well. I can’t leave Prue out there. You haven’t heard anything more of her, have you? Nothing since I left to go up to Declan Reach?”

She shook her head. “Not a word. I don’t fault you for making her your primary concern. I would do the same.” She leaned forward in her chair. “But I must add a fresh complication to your plans. And you
won’t like hearing this any more than I liked hearing that you have brought Sider’s killer to Glensk Wood. Oparion Amarantyne is dead. He was killed several days ago, murdered. His daughter, Phryne, stands accused of the killing. The Queen has locked her away and charged her with patricide. In all likelihood, if nothing happens to change things, she will be tried, convicted, and put to death in the Elven Way.”

Panterra didn’t know what the
Elven Way
was and didn’t want to find out. “Phryne wouldn’t kill her father. Something is wrong. Someone else must be responsible.”

“That may be so. There are whispers about the Queen and the first minister. She was quick to assume the throne once her husband was dead, and the first minister was quick to support her right to do so. So far, no one has dared to stand up to them. One or two spoke out, but their voices were quickly silenced. They were
reasoned with
, I think you would say.”

“Do you believe I should go there first?” he asked.

“I do. I think you should go there while on your way to find Prue. Maybe you can do something to help the Princess. I know you like her. I know she meant something to you. Not as much as Prue, of course. But enough so that you should not abandon her entirely.”

He hesitated. What
did
Phryne mean to him? He should help her if he could, but was it right to do so if it cost him time he could have spent searching for Prue? How much could he sacrifice for her before the cost became too great?

“I can’t make a decision on this,” he admitted, looking away. He was tired, so tired. All he wanted was to lie down and close his eyes.

She rose and came over to him. “Go to your home and sleep, Panterra. A decision on what to do will wait that long. Come back and talk to me, if you want. Whatever you decide, you know I will support you. That said, I can do this much to help you. I can send Brickey to find out what has happened to Esselline. Brickey comes from that country and should be able to find out easily if the King intends to honor his promise to aid us in our fight against the Drouj.”

She helped him to his feet, guided him to the door and back outside. He stood with her for a moment, searching for something to say in parting. But words failed him. He started across the porch and down the steps and then suddenly turned. “I’m so sorry about Sider,” he said. “I wish I could have done something more to help him.”

She smiled. “You’re doing something now. I think that’s what he would have wanted. Go home.”

He turned once more and walked away.

S
KEAL EILE WAITED
until Panterra Qu was safely gone from the council chambers before making his excuses and leaving Pogue to deal with his prisoner. He had better things to do than stand around lamenting his lost chances, although he could not stop thinking of them. Still seething from his confrontation with the boy, he set out for the deep woods. He chose a path that took him in the opposite direction, even though it lengthened his journey, not wishing to chance meeting the boy somewhere on the way. He was wary of Panterra Qu, much more so now that he carried the black staff, although the staff wasn’t the reason for his caution. Before today’s meeting, the boy would have been intimidated by him. He would have deferred to him in the matter of the Troll prisoner; he wouldn’t have dared to question him or even consider standing up to him as he had.

But the boy was changed. It might be the staff had contributed to this, but Skeal Eile thought it more likely had to do with the time he had spent with Sider Ament. He might still be a boy, but his self-confidence and determination were a man’s.

Panterra Qu had been a nuisance before, but now he was something much worse. He was dangerous.

Fortunately, there was a cure for that.

The Seraphic worked his way through the village, following littleused paths and trails that would help him avoid prying eyes and annoying questions. Not that many chose to speak to him when they saw him like this, but now and then someone who followed the teachings of the Hawk would insist. As their spiritual leader, he could hardly refuse conversation with the faithful.

His thoughts turned momentarily from Panterra Qu to the matter of the Drouj prisoner and the threat from the army encamped outside the valley. Somehow he must find a way to meet with the Maturen of these people so that he could discuss their mutual interests in the fate of the valley. The Drouj would not believe there were such interests, of course, but Skeal Eile would persuade him otherwise. There was something
for everyone in this; it just had to be explained in terms they could understand.

For that, he might need the aid of the Maturen’s son, which meant finding a way to spirit him out of Glensk Wood without being discovered. Or at least keeping him close enough that he could make use of him when it was necessary.

Skeal Eile had been thinking about his future long and hard ever since the boy had brought word to the village council of the collapse of the protective wall. The world was changing, and there was no going back to the way things had been. Life in the valley would change, and those who survived it would have to start over. Those inside and outside, whatever species they were, would be joined in the search for a harmonious relationship. The consequences of doing that could be brutal, but there was no escaping the inevitable. What was needed was a way of avoiding the worst of it, and he had already determined that strength of arms on the battlefield, in whatever form, would not be enough to protect the faithful.