The Silvered (48 page)

“Not badly. A couple of puncture wounds on the back of its neck.”

She laid another stick on the fire and watched it start to burn without her help. “What if I can’t heal it? And it’s not that I want to fail,” she added hurriedly, “because I’m still thinking of it as food.”

“It’s not injured so badly it couldn’t heal on its own. If you can’t heal it, I’ll let it go.”

“All right.” Mirian shuffled around until she sat facing him, her knees touching his, the rabbit corralled between them. When Tomas tensed to lift his hands away, she shook her head. “No, you keep holding it. I can’t be distracted by worrying that it’ll get away from me.”

Its fur was soft, plush. She’d left a rabbit fur hat and muff back in her room in Bercarit, but this fur had more substance. The rabbit flinched as she touched it, in fear not pain, not that it mattered beyond how much it hurt her heart because she had to have contact. Although not the usual contact. Tomas hunted to keep them fed and they mostly ate rabbit.

Don’t think of the rabbit as food.

Logically, she reminded herself, an injury was an injury, whether on her or on a small animal. She could heal herself, so healing another would merely be extending that outward. An examination showed the rabbit’s skin had been pierced in two places by Tomas’ teeth. Blood had dampened the fur around the bites, clumping it into dark triangular points. She couldn’t put the blood back, so all she could do was close the holes.

Close the holes…

Close…

The rabbit writhed, twisting out of Tomas’ grip, and Mirian snatched her hand away staring down at the animal in horror. Every thing that might be considered a hole on its body had closed. Unbroken fur covered its eyes, nose, mouth, ears…anus although she wouldn’t, couldn’t check.

Scrambling onto her knees, she twisted to the side and threw up. Threw up again when she heard the crack as Tomas broke the struggling rabbit’s neck. Her stomach spasmed over and over until only bitter bile dribbled out of her mouth.

She couldn’t stop crying.

She could destroy. Two men were dead by her hand. But she couldn’t heal.

When Tomas wrapped his arms around her, she didn’t fight him. She collapsed against his chest and cried until she had no tears left. Cried for the rabbit and the Mage-pack and Ryder Hagen and Jaspyr Hagen and the two men she’d killed and for Tomas and for her because they were going to rescue the Mage-pack and they didn’t have the faintest idea of how and for the first time since hearing gunshots that morning on the Trouge Road, she missed the bland certainty her life had been.

“Bland would drive you crazy,” murmured a quiet voice against her hair.

Mirian sniffed and rubbed her sleeve over her face. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

“I know.”

“I got you wet.” She pulled away from his chest and dried that cheek as well. “I’m sorry.”

He loosened his hold, a little, and shrugged. “Skin dries.”

“I’d have made a mess of your fur.”

“And that’s what I was worried about. Here.” One arm released her, stretched out to the right, and came back with a canteen. “Rinse your mouth.”

She sloshed a mouthful of water around and had to poke him so she could get enough clearance to spit. The fire had burned down to embers, the last of the daylight had faded, and she couldn’t see the puddle of vomit, but she could smell it. “What happened to the…to the body?”

“I got rid of it.”

“You didn’t…”

“Eat it?” She might have felt him shudder. “No.”

“All right.” Another mouthful of water. “Good. I’m all right. Thank you. Let me go now.”

He released her reluctantly. “I could hunt…”

“No. I mean, yes, for you.” She crawled to fire pit and began piling the smallest twigs in the pile against the coals. “I couldn’t eat.”

“You need to eat.”

“I said I can’t!” The fire flared and she froze, refusing to back away. If she’d actually been able to advance beyond first level while at university…If she’d attempted to heal another student…

“Mirian….”

“Just don’t!” She slapped away the hand reaching out for her. “Leave me alone!”

But when she woke up screaming in the middle of the night, he was there, arms pulling her close, murmuring comfort against the top of her head, as if he’d known she’d been dreaming of his fur covering eyes, nose, mouth…

“Your orders, Captain Reiter, were to bring back six mages. I know, because those were the orders I gave to General Loreau. One in six or six in one. Not a single Soothsayer said anything about five.”

Reiter stared over Emperor Leopald’s head, gaze locked on what looked to be a blue drawing of a shepherdess playing a flute, a recurring image on what he considered to be entirely inappropriate wallpaper. Of course, wallpaper wasn’t something he’d given much thought to previously, so for all he knew it might be exactly correct for a debriefing that would probably turn into a court-martial that would, in turn, turn into an execution. Reiter doubted the emperor would allow wallpaper to delay an official court-martial should he decide a mere captain’s action had been treasonable.

“Lieutenant Lord Geurin, as his uncle persists in informing me, returned with five of the mages, leaving the sixth mage for you. Although, as you were his commanding officer, and as I have had the unfortunate privilege of meeting Lieutenant Geurin, I rather suspect you ordered him to Karis with the mages already secured as you considered him incapable of finishing the job.”

Was he supposed to answer that, Reiter wondered. Would anything he said matter if he were already marked to die?

Apparently not, as the emperor barely paused for breath. “I have read your report. I have read the report written by the garrison commander at Lyonne. I have read the letter written to the garrison commander from Major Halyss at Abyek. You may not know that Major Halyss was, until recently, a highly regarded member of my staff and I continue to value his opinion. Captain Reiter…” The emperor sighed his name. “…would you please look at me. That staring at the wall thing you military men do is annoying.”

“Sir!” Reiter forced himself to drop his eyes and found the emperor gazing up at him, shaking his head.

“All that emphatic agreement is a bit annoying, too.”

But he was smiling, so Reiter managed to breathe almost normally in spite of the fact he was looking at the emperor. Or the emperor was looking at him. Had been looking at him. The emperor. Reiter had been in the army for two years when Emperor Leopald had risen to the Starburst Throne. He’d taken part in the pageantry with the rest of his company, he’d drunk to the young emperor’s health, he’d sworn new oaths to His Imperial Majesty Leopald, Commander in Truth. When he’d been transferred to the Shields, he’d realized he might be given a chance to see the emperor from a distance, then he’d been given orders carrying an Imperial seal, and, now, the emperor was looking at him. Smiling at him.

“The evidence suggests you made every attempt to carry out my orders.”

His shoulders straightened. His body reacted to Imperial attention as though it had a mind of its own.

“Under normal circumstances, I honestly wouldn’t care about how hard you tried. I care about results. That’s how one builds and maintains an empire after all, isn’t it?”

His shoulders slumped, just a little. Reiter wasn’t sure he liked feeling even so minimally out of control.

“However, the Soothsayers have Seen the sixth mage here, at the palace, which somewhat negates your failure. More importantly, at least as far as you’re concerned, last fall two Soothsayers Saw you at the palace standing by my side in a square of purple. Two of them.” From the emperor’s tone, visions by multiple Soothsayers seemed to
be important. “Although,” he added, “it wasn’t until recently that the Interpreters were able to identify you. I will not bore you with the reams of bad poetry.”

The pause extended almost long enough Reiter thought of throwing in another
sir
, but the emperor began talking again before he could.

“I had assumed you’d be here, with me, as a reward for successfully completing your mission. Apparently not, and, yet, here you are. So, as blame must be placed, if I am not placing it on you, where do I place it?” He raised a hand. “Don’t answer that. It seems to me you performed as expected; the artifact did not.”

“Your Imperial Majesty, all six of the artifacts were tested multiple times.” The voice came from just behind Reiter’s left shoulder, from one of the two civilians who’d accompanied him and General Loreau into the Imperial presence. They were courtiers, both self-important and simpering, but, other than that, Reiter had no idea of who they were or what their function was. Courtiers were not introduced to captains. “I performed the tests myself, as you requested, rather than leave them to a lesser researcher. The mage should not have been able to remove the artifact!”

“And yet she did.” The gold net dangled from the emperor’s finger, the broken links with their blackened ends obvious. “I believe you stated at the conclusion of your research that attempting to remove this artifact without the proper tool destroyed not only mage ability, but all cognitive ability as well.”

“Those were the results we obtained during testing, but in fairness, Majesty, we never tested it on a mage as strong as the mage the captain lost.”

If the narrow-eyed reaction was any indication, the emperor didn’t appreciate this attempt to pass the blame back. Neither did Reiter, but he had to admit the emperor’s opinion counted for more. “Lieutenant Geurin reported that when one of the other five merely tugged at the artifact, she scarred her fingers and was all but unresponsive for the rest of the journey.”

“Again, Majesty, we have no data on comparative power between the two mages.”

The emperor’s wide-eyed gaze shifted left. “Lord Warder of the Archive.”

“Your Imperial Majesty?”

The reply came not from the man who’d been talking, but from the older of the two civilians. Actually, Reiter would have been willing to bet he’d be the older of
any
two civilians. He looked like a turtle in fancy dress, his face and neck a cascade of wrinkles and his clothing at least a generation out of style.

“What was the condition of the artifacts when you removed them from the vault?”

“All six artifacts were in the same condition, Majesty. That was why I removed those six. While gold does not decay as baser metals may, there is a certain delicacy to the construction of these artifacts in particular, and I was, therefore, careful to check for any physical differences.”

“So no broken links, Lord Warder?”

“Not so much as a weak link, Majesty.”

“Interesting.” Elbow propped on the arm of his high-backed chair, the emperor dropped his chin onto the heel of the hand not holding the artifact, two fingers curled by his mouth, two resting on his temple. He looked as though he were considering nothing more important than if he should have another drink before he left the officer’s mess for the night. “As the sixth mage removed the artifact with no apparent damage to herself, I can only assume the artifact was, in fact, defective. Not physically, as has been stated by the Lord Warder of the Archive, so, therefore, the testing had to have been defective. Do you have anything to say in your defense, Lord Master of Discovery?”

“I can only repeat, Majesty, that the mage should not have been able to remove the artifact.”

“And yet she did. Six mages, Lord Master. Six. The Soothsayers were specific and now, thanks to your incompetence, I have five. Yes, the sixth is on her way, but that’s not the point. General Loreau.”

“Sir!”

The emperor rolled his eyes. “Have him taken to the north wing. I’ll decide what to do with him later.”

“Majesty!”

The artifact glittered in the lamplight, swinging from the emperor’s finger. “The evidence speaks against you, Lord Master.”

“Your Imperial Majesty, no! I beg of you…”

He kept begging while soldiers dragged him from the room. He was still at it when the door closed behind him. Reiter stared at another shepherdess, sweat sticking his uniform to his back. Locked in position in front of the emperor, he’d seen none of what had just happened. That should have made it less affecting. It didn’t.

“Tavert.”

The conservatively dressed young woman sitting on a stool just behind the emperor’s chair taking notes on a lap desk, looked up. “Majesty?”

“We’ll try Doctor Lord Camberton as the new Lord Master. It should make him happy. He’s wanted the job long enough.” The emperor’s smile made him look almost too young for his responsibilities. “Try to make it clear that I’d rather he not
overshare
his happiness with me.”

“Yes, Majesty.”

The emperor straightened, the languid posturing gone, and Reiter found himself back under the regard of a piercing blue gaze. He made a mental note to ignore the affectations.

“You showed initiative, Captain Reiter, using the drug to keep the mage under control. I like that.” The corners of the Imperial mouth flicked up into a quick smile. “I’d have liked it better had it been successful, but still, initiative. I’ve had an opening on my staff since Major Halyss left—somehow his father convinced me that the major’s knowledge of mage-craft would be of more use on the front, given what the Swords are fighting in Aydori—and I’d like you to fill it.”