Will Shetterly - Witch Blood (16 page)

“
THIS CLASS IS
over.” I bowed to my students to dismiss them. They hesitated, but Naiji nodded and said, “Go.”

The fencer said, “If the foreigner’s—”

“We’re safe with Rifkin.”

I wondered at her certainty. The fencer said, “Lady, if you’re wrong—”

“You think I could be?”

Her question was phrased innocently enough, but the man stiffened as though slapped. Dovriex said, “Lady, he’s only concerned for you.”

“And I appreciate his concern. Still, leave us.”

With many backward glances, the others went. When Talivane and Naiji and I were alone, he said, “Tell me about it.”

“Chifeo’s a spy.”

“So say you.”

“He’s a Spirit.”

“Again, so—”

“He fights too well for a serving boy.”

“That?” Talivane gestured at the ground where we’d fought. “He was lucky, but—”

“Too lucky.”

Talivane “s eyes narrowed. ”I do tire of your interruptions.“

“Well, la-de-da.”

Naiji put her hand on my arm. It seemed to be a favorite gesture of hers. Since it often led to such nice things, I let her hand lie there. “Rifkin, you’re just—”

“Upset? Me? Rifkin Merryman?”

“Rifkin, you think you embarrassed yourself—”

“I think I almost died.”

“But—”

“Wait.” I looked at them both. “Am I not at least minimally competent in matters of physical defense?”

Talivane stroked his chin. “I had thought so, until I saw you fighting the boy.”

“Mother and Son, are you blind as well as stupid?”

Talivane glared. “I—”

“Oops.” I raised my hands peacefully. “Sorry.”

Naiji said, “Rifkin Tactlord rides again.”

“Look,” I said. “I’ll tell you a simple truth. Chifeo shouldn’t have been able to touch me, let alone hurt me.”

“We saw,” said Talivane with thick sarcasm.

“You saw his show,” I said. “And you believed it. But if you doubt my ability, I’ll duel with you here, bare hands against bare hands. Tell me then whether I know anything of the Art.”

“We saw you against the Spirits last night,” Naiji said.

“I didn’t say I know a lot about the Art.”

She moved her hand from my wrist to my shoulder. “You fought well, then.”

Talivane frowned. Either the question of Chifeo’s loyalty disturbed him, or he didn’t like being reminded that his sister had found a playmate. He said, “Perhaps the boy was lucky.”

‘Too lucky. I tell you again, he used magic against me.“

“I sensed something that might have been a spell,” Talivane admitted.

“Good. Now, why would he do that?”

“If he did it.”

“If he did it,” I granted.

“He was scared?” Naiji suggested.

“Did he look scared to you? He’s a Spirit.”

“I thought Spirits don’t use magic.”

“This one does.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“I’m not trying to make sense. I’m trying to tell the truth.”

“Enough of this,” said Talivane. “Naiji will learn what’s true when he recovers.”

She nodded. I noted that if truth-telling was so easy for her, I had another reason to suspect their story of questioning a prisoner during the middle of the night. Then I realized that even if Naiji could recognize truth, she might not be able to make someone speak it. Unless, as she had hinted, she could actually hunt among memories. I did not want to consider that last possibility.

Talivane said, “You know a lot about Spirits.”

I shrugged. “I’ve dealt with them before.”

“But the boy surprised you.”

“Yes.”

“Why? If you’re so competent—”

“I’ve never known them to employ spies. Nor have I known them to use magic.”

Talivane laughed. “And yet you suspect Chifeo? This is a very feeble tale, Rifkin. I continue to suspect you, for all that my sister may trust you.”

“I’ve heard rumors that the Spirits keep a few witch-slaves in steel bonds and force them to obey.”

“Chifeo’s hardly kept in bonds.”

“Even so, he’s a Spirit. I’d know.”

Talivane frowned and studied me. “They’ve pursued you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“For something that happened in the south. Several years ago.”

“And you’ve lived this long?”

I put my right hand against my left wrist to check my pulse. “Yes.”

Talivane sighed. “I’ve known many who were reluctant to speak of their past, but you must be the most reluctant of all.”

“We all excel at something.”

“Why didn’t you tell us about this?”

“I believed they no longer hunted me.” Or at least I had hoped it, and hoped it still.

Talivane nodded. “And, last night, when I showed you my visitors?”

“They were after you and Lady Naiji. So you said, and so they acted.”

“A fine distinction.”

“All distinctions are fine ones.”

“Careful,” Naiji warned Talivane. “Don’t get him started on philosophy.”

“No,” Talivane agreed. “Let’s look in on Chifeo.”

“So soon?” I asked.

“If your explanation is correct, and I’m not saying it is, it would mean he only used a very small spell. The effects of the presence of iron would have faded by now.”

We donned our shoes and swords, then walked into the castle. I said, “What happens if Naiji learns nothing from him?”

“She’ll learn something.”

The infirmary was a large room, and very warm from a fire that burned in a central hearth. One of the red-haired twins was telling Chifeo to lie still while she held a damp cloth against his forehead. Mondivinaw occupied a second pallet. He still slept. Each of his breaths was followed by a pause so long that each subsequent breath surprised me.

Chifeo glanced at us, then turned his head away and began to cry softly.

Talivane looked at Mondivinaw. “The lord...”

The red-haired woman said, “No change.”

“Did you strip Chifeo?” I asked.

“Yes,” said his nurse.

“Find anything unusual?”

“His socks are clean.”

“That’s not what I meant by unusual.”

“If you knew Chifeo, it would be.”

“Maybe. I doubt that any of you knew him.”

“He’s been with us for almost a year,” said Naiji.

“So?” I addressed the boy. “There’s no point in pretending any longer, Chifeo.” I switched to the trade tongue of the Ladizhar, a language known to all Spirits. “Your role is discovered. Your commission cannot be fulfilled. There is no shame, only—”

He spun on the pallet, flipping a long splinter of the bed’s frame at my throat. I deflected it with the edge of my hand. “I’m ready for you, youth,” I said. “Your guile is greater than that of the Spirits who followed you, but you are no more successful.”

“What are you?” he gasped in the same language.

“Rifkin,” I said. “Rifkin Outcast.”

He shook his head. “You’re Izla.”

His certainty surprised me, but I only said “No.” I remembered how quietly he had come to wake me this morning and realized that the duel in the courtyard was not his first attempt to murder me.

“Talivane will kill me,” he said.

“Perhaps.”

“You’re Izla. I was right to act.” His face grew desperate. “Tell me that much. Please.”

I hesitated, then said, “In Istviar, I would be recognized as the Seaprince.”

“I knew it!” After a moment, he said, “You’re more skilled than the Masters think.”

“Obviously. I’m still alive.”

“You deserve to die.”

“Why? You think I’m what you are?”

“Yes.”

“It’s no shame, Chifeo. You’ve lived with your own kind for months, now. Aren’t they people, like any other?”

“So they pretend.”

Someone else might convince him. I knew I would not.

“What’s he saying?” asked Naiji.

I wanted to walk to the window and stare at the clouds, but I could not turn away for fear that Chifeo would attack one of us. “He’s a Spirit,” I said.

“The trick with that bit of wood told us as much,” said Talivane. “Yet he has some skill at transmutation.”

“He’s also a witch,” I said.

They waited for me to explain. The red-haired woman appeared to have deduced enough to know what we discussed. Chifeo only cried softly. His gasps were interrupted by Mondivinaw’s ragged inhalations. At last I said, “I suspect the Spirits raised him. I’ve heard they sometimes do that with the children of their victims, though I’ve never heard of it happening with witch babies. His mother was probably slain when he was born, and he was taught what they believe.”

“He told you all that?” asked Naiji.

“More or less.”

“What was he doing here, then?”

“If the Spirits wanted a Master Witch to serve them, who better than a witch to train a witch? And here he could be their spy as well. How do you think last night’s visitors found Talivane so easily?”

The Count’s hands began to flicker with lightning. “One last question, Rifkin. If this is true, why wasn’t Chifeo our executioner? Why did they bother to send the others?”

That only took a moment of thought. I said, “Because the boy’s teaching is incomplete. The others came to kill you two, and only you two. That’d end whatever threat this stronghold offers to Komaki. Chifeo could continue his studies with the remaining witches, even if they fled this castle. Am I right, Chifeo?”

He continued to cry quietly.

Naiji studied the boy. “He must hate very much.”

“He does.”

Chifeo snapped up from the bed and pointed to me. “Do you know what he is? He’s Izla Seaprince!” He uttered the name in Ladizhan.

“What?” said Talivane.

“It’s a traditional southern expression,” I said. “It means I’m a wonderfully clever fellow.”

“He’s a witch!” cried Chifeo. “The most powerful witch who ever lived!”

“It’s too late for flattery,” I said.

“Hmm? What of the iron that Rifkin wears?” Talivane asked.

“A disguise! Can’t you see! The perfect disguise! He’s worse than all of you combined!”

I waggled my fingers by my ear to suggest that Chifeo’s brains had leaked from his skull. Talivane ignored me. He said, “An interesting claim.”

I said, “One that’s easily disproved.”

“How!” demanded Chifeo.

I turned to Talivane. “Tell me the words to a very simple spell. I’ll recite it while wearing my weapons. You’ll see whether there’s any backlash.”

Talivane said, “Very well.” He told me to repeat several syllables, which I did.

“See?” I said. “No backlash.”

“You should be glad,” Naiji said. “That was an impotence spell.”

Chifeo stared at me. “But you said—”

“It’s a long story,” I answered in the coastal tongue. “I’m as human as you wish you were.”

“But—”

“Maybe I’ll write a book about it someday.”

Talivane’s hands glowed brightly with lightning. I wondered if he would try to kill the boy then, and whether I would try to stop him. The Count said, “To the dungeons, Chifeo. You know the way.” He glanced at the red-headed nurse. “Accompany us. With your sword ready.”

“Of course,” the woman said.

They took Chifeo away. Wondering if I had done well or badly, I turned to Naiji and said, “What now?”

She kissed me lightly on the lips. “I’ve things to do. Amuse yourself.”

“Amuse myself. Right. I’d tell myself stories, but I’ve heard every one I know.”

“You’re inventive. You’ll think of something.”

I did. I returned to my quarters, and for a long moment, watched my hands shake. I had told Talivane I did not like Death; I hated her most when she offered to couple with me. Then, aware that I stank of fear and hard work, I bathed. I wished Naiji would join me. Forgetting myself in the art of love would have been nice. Holding someone and saying nothing would have been nicer still.

The lives of too many strangers had been linked to mine. I found myself hoping that Mondivinaw would remain in his coma until I had learned the identity of the second mindspeaker. Mondivinaw would certainly think the voice had been mine. And Chifeo inhabited the dungeons, thanks to my intervention. Talivane, I was sure, did not keep him there to free him later. When Chifeo was slain, I would share the responsibility.

I dressed again. My belt and boots looked no better with the blue and burgundy clothing than they had before, but perhaps concerns of dress were not noticed when survival was the primary issue. I wandered through the deserted halls in search of the dungeons. The castle was slightly smaller than it had seemed the night before, yet it was large enough. The doors to several wings had been sealed, seemingly for centuries. Studying one near Talivane’s quarters, I met Captain Feschian.

“Lost?” Feschian asked.

“No. I forgot to ask what you think of my boots.”

“You shouldn’t wear them with those pants.”

I considered that for a moment. “I agree.”

“What’re you doing here?”

“Trying to make sure no one sees me in these boots.”

“You’ve been wearing them all day.”

“Oh. Well, I was exploring, so I won’t get lost again.”

“You shouldn’t have told me that.”

“Why not?”

“You won’t have an excuse when next I find you where you shouldn’t be.”

“And where shouldn’t I be?”

“Give it up, Rifkin.”

“But if I don’t know—”

“Don’t come by Talivane’s rooms at night.”

I nodded. “Talivane’s rooms. At night. Don’t come. Got it.”

“You’re sure? If you’d like, I’ll repeat it more slowly.”

“Repeat what?”

“Very funny.”

“Tell me, how do I find the dungeons?”

“Come by Talivane’s rooms at night.”

“Very funny,” I said, mimicking her voice.

She smiled. “Why do you want to know?”

“I’d like to question the Spirits you captured.”

“They won’t speak to us.”

“I think I can convince them.”

“You’ll tell me if you get any answers?”

“Of course.”

She considered this, then nodded. “Go left at the corridor that passes the grand hall. You’ll find a heavy door of teak on your right. Behind that lie the stairs to the dungeons. Tell the guard I said you could talk with the prisoners.”

“Thanks.” I left her and continued on. Enough time had passed by then that I decided to seek the dining room instead of the dungeons. I found my way easily after asking directions at the stable, the seamster’s rooms, and the armorer’s. Soon I took a seat near an end of the long oak table and discovered that I had earned so much respect from this morning’s endeavors that no one would sit uninvited near me.