The Star Scroll Part 16

"You'll pa.s.s," she said curtly. "With schooling, of course, and with a rinse to bring out red highlights in your hair. Palila's hair was auburn. Yours is too dark."

"Like our father's," he shot back.

"A reddish tint will arouse memories of her-and that's the immediate point, you'll agree. Now explain to me why it took you so long to get here."

"I set out as planned, and on time-according to instructions from some woman who seems to think she's my aunt." He grinned. "She's the daughter of the people who claim to be my grandparents, but I don't own the relations.h.i.+p. Was it her money or yours that was sent to persuade me?"

"Impudence will get you precisely nowhere," she snapped. "Tell me why you're late!"

"There were riders following me."

"Who?"

"I didn't leave them alive to conduct a conversation," he retorted. "They came on me at night, four of them with drawn knives."

"What did they look like?"

"Peasants. One of them babbled something about someone who'd help me challenge the princeling. There was talk of power more potent than the faradh'im faradh'im." He shrugged. "I don't need anyone's help. I'm ready to take my inheritance now. now."

"You should have questioned them!"

"What was I supposed to do-ask for information while they cut me to ribbons? I heard them approach and pretended to drowse over my fire, and when they were close enough I started killing them before they could kill me. If that doesn't suit you, sweet sister, then too d.a.m.ned bad."

"Stop calling me that. It's yet to be proved that you're my father's son. And to do that, you need me. You know that, or you wouldn't be here. Who taught you proper speech?"

"Do you want me to use my rustic mountain accent?" he sneered. "Would that help the illusion? I don't need any tricks! I'm the son of High Prince Roelstra and his mistress Lady Palila, born nearly twenty-one years ago just a few measures from here on the Faolain River. Anyone who doubts it-"

"Don't threaten me, boy," she told him. "I don't have to believe in you-all I have to do is decide whether or not to support you. How far do you think you'd get without the backing of one of Roelstra's daughters? Now, how did you learn gentle speech?"

Sullenly, he replied, "A couple of the men at Dasan Manor had been servants at Castle Crag in their young days. They taught me."

"Good. We can say they recognized the highborn in you and tutored you. We can work on your appearance and various mannerisms I can show you. Get up and walk around the room."

He did so, eyes smoldering with resentment. "Do I walk well enough for you?"

She ignored the question, not wanting to admit how his strong movements distressed her. There was power in that lean, tough body, wedded to a temper that would make him dangerous if crossed. "Lean against the wall. Fold your arms over your chest-no, higher. Good. Now brush your hair from your forehead. Use your fingers like a comb. That's right. Can you hold your own in a sword fight?"

"I've had training. Dasan belongs to a knight retired from service, and he says I'm a natural fighter. I'm good with horses, too. And knives. As I proved on the way here." He gestured to the dagger at his belt. "No worries about that."

"What I'm worried about is your arrogance and your anger. You'll have to control both if this is going to work. You can't just storm into the princes' conference and demand your rights. Let my husband handle that part of it, and keep your mouth shut except to say what we'll tell you to say. Oh, stop glaring at me, Masul! You not only have to prove your claim to Princemarch, but you also have to prove you'll be a prince the others can work with! They'd had quite enough of my father's ways before he died, I can tell you that!"

This was obviously a new concept. He subsided into his chair and blew out a long sigh. "Very well. But you have to understand something first. All my life I've been stuck in that swine-run of a manor at the back end of nothing. Everybody sneaking glances at me, whispering that I couldn't possibly be my supposed father's son, not with my height and coloring, and especially my eyes."

He rose and began to pace. Kiele schooled her expression to coolness. Her father had stalked rooms in just this fas.h.i.+on. But, even more than her memories, Masul's barely leashed strength impressed her again like a physical blow. His pacing made the candle flame flicker as he pa.s.sed, the light throwing odd shadows onto his face.

"The rumors started when I was about fifteen. Could he be, what if he is, surely he's not, remember the old prince, what really happened that night-"

"That is something very few people ever knew," Kiele interrupted. "Palila, Roelstra, Ianthe, Pandsala, Andrade. Of those five, the first three are dead." is something very few people ever knew," Kiele interrupted. "Palila, Roelstra, Ianthe, Pandsala, Andrade. Of those five, the first three are dead."

"And the two survivors won't welcome me with open arms," he added.

"Pandsala won't give up her power without a terrible struggle," she agreed. "She'll throw her own honor into the dirt before making the slightest slip that could prove you're Roelstra's son. As for Andrade-she's blood-bound to the Desert and she hated Roelstra with a pa.s.sion bordering on obsession. I don't think she'd lie, no matter what the need, but she's clever as a roomful of silk merchants and won't tell any part of the truth that might support your claim."

"It's up to me, then. I have to look enough like him and Palila, say what you and Lyell tell me, and behave as if I'll be a good, biddable prince once I'm installed at Castle Crag." He grinned again, like a wolf.

She had intended bidding him herself, but it appeared he had a mind of his own. That would help in the process of convincing others, of course, but she suspected that his grat.i.tude for her help would last only as long as it took him to walk inside Castle Crag.

"I'm ready to be educated, sister dear," he said, and sat down once more.

She stared at him for a long time over the candle flame. "Masul, have you ever grown a beard?"

"No."

"Do so, for three reasons. First, many men with dark hair have reddish beards and it would help if that were the case with you. Second, we have to hide you until the Rialla, Rialla, and a beard would do that, make you look older." and a beard would do that, make you look older."

"And third?"

She laughed, pleased with her inspiration. "Imagine it! You appear for the first time at the Rialla, Rialla, bearded. All anyone will see is your eyes. They bearded. All anyone will see is your eyes. They are are very like my father's, you know. That night we'll shave off the beard-and because they're already primed to see Roelstra in your face, they'll find the resemblance even greater than it is!" very like my father's, you know. That night we'll shave off the beard-and because they're already primed to see Roelstra in your face, they'll find the resemblance even greater than it is!"

Masul looked startled for a moment, then laughed aloud. "Father of Storms! Brilliant, sister-brilliant!"

"I've not yet decided that I am am your sister," she reminded him. The words had the intended effect; he looked murderous, then resentful, then determined to win her over to real belief. She rose, satisfied. He would work harder at his lessons in order to prove his ident.i.ty-and her eventual acquiescence would be all the sweeter to him for having been hard-won. This would give him added confidence in his ability to convince others. Not that he would need much more confidence, she reflected as she settled her cloak around her again. Still, she had established the beginnings of dominance over him through her doubts and her instructions. He would be willing to do as she told him. your sister," she reminded him. The words had the intended effect; he looked murderous, then resentful, then determined to win her over to real belief. She rose, satisfied. He would work harder at his lessons in order to prove his ident.i.ty-and her eventual acquiescence would be all the sweeter to him for having been hard-won. This would give him added confidence in his ability to convince others. Not that he would need much more confidence, she reflected as she settled her cloak around her again. Still, she had established the beginnings of dominance over him through her doubts and her instructions. He would be willing to do as she told him.

"Is this where you're going to keep me until the Rialla? Rialla?" Masul asked.

She smiled, pleased by the phrasing that confirmed her ascendancy. "It won't be too bad after it's cleaned up. But when the city begins to fill later in the summer, I'll have you moved to a little manor we own outside the gates."

"The place you meet your lovers?" he suggested.

She drew back her hand to slap him and he caught her wrist, laughing. "How dare you!" she spat. "Let me go!"

"A woman as beautiful as you must have plenty of lovers-that's the way of things with you highborns, and especially Roelstra's offspring! How many did Ianthe take before she died? I must say it's a pity you're my sister, sister dear!"

She wrenched away from him. "Don't you ever touch me again!" His grin infuriated her, and his mocking parody of a bow. She yanked the door open and slammed it behind her, descending the stairs at a run. Pausing only to order that the house be thoroughly cleaned before her next visit-and tossing another pouch of gold at the woman to pay for it-she left the stifling place for the cool night air outside. It hit her burning cheeks like an ice storm.

As she walked, she calmed down a little and realized that part of her anger was really shock. His suggestion about her lovers and his intimation that he wouldn't mind being one was impudence of the worst sort-he was half her age and possibly her brother into the bargain. Yet something deeper troubled her; she had seen l.u.s.t in men's eyes before, but recognition of it in Masul's green gaze brought memories flooding back. Roelstra had looked at Palila that way, and at many other lovely women. Boldly, speculatively, arrogant with the a.s.surance that he had but to beckon and they would be instantly in his bed. Not because he was High Prince; because he was a man who enjoyed women's bodies. More than anything else she had seen or heard tonight, the look in Masul's eyes began to convince her that he might indeed be Roelstra's son.

Kiele paused for a few moments in the cool darkness of her garden, looking up at the windows where lights shone blue or red or green behind thin curtains. Shadows moved behind some, and all at once white-gold candlelight stabbed out from a fourth-floor window as silk was pulled aside. Kiele froze, then scurried to the shelter of a tree. She gasped for breath, then tried to quiet her racing heart. Why should she not take a stroll in her own gardens if she chose? Still, she stayed where she was until the spill of light was again covered by green curtains. When she could breathe normally, she slipped back into the house.

Gaining the main part of the building, she found the servants in an uproar. She dropped her cloak on the carpet for one of them to pick up, glancing quickly in a mirror to make sure her hair and gown were tidy before she demanded to know the cause of the disturbance.

"The Princess Chiana, my lady-she's just arrived, and-"

"Princess? Who told you to call her that?" Kiele snapped. "Never mind, I know who did. d.a.m.n her insolence! She is the Who told you to call her that?" Kiele snapped. "Never mind, I know who did. d.a.m.n her insolence! She is the Lady Lady Chiana in my house, and anyone giving her royal t.i.tles in my hearing or out of it will be dismissed on the spot! Where is she?" Chiana in my house, and anyone giving her royal t.i.tles in my hearing or out of it will be dismissed on the spot! Where is she?"

"With his lords.h.i.+p, my lady, in the Third Room."

Kiele started for the main hall, infuriated anew as she saw Chiana's baggage strewn about the floor. She ordered it put in the rooms made ready for her and told herself that she would have her vengeance on the little b.i.t.c.h soon enough. For now, she would have to be all honey and silk. She smoothed her face accordingly and brought a smile to her lips with the exquisite thought of Chiana's frantic humiliation at the Rialla. Rialla.

The Third Room was reserved for receiving the most important guests, being the largest and best furnished. Differences in the houses that made up the residence made short staircases necessary here and there, and the steps leading down into the chamber were perfect for making an entrance. Kiele always enjoyed the chance those five steps gave her to pause, observe, and collect all eyes. But tonight she didn't bother with her usual entrance to the room where Chiana and Lyell were seated over steaming cups of taze.

Lyell rose; Chiana did not. Kiele hid her irritation that her sister had not given her the usual mark of respect. She smiled sweetly and poured herself something to drink, then sank into a chair near Chiana's.

"What a precipitous arrival, my dear! But a very welcome one. Was the journey troublesome?"

The two women exchanged polite nothings for some moments, and Kiele's good humor returned as she imagined Chiana's reaction to Masul. To have both under her eyes would provide excellent private entertainment during the long summer ahead.

Chiana was definitely and obviously the daughter of Roelstra and Palila. She had the best features of both, which created a beauty that at nearly twenty-one more than fulfilled the promise of her girlhood. Rich, heavy auburn hair curled enticingly around hazel eyes with startlingly long lashes; she did not have her parents' height but her figure was in perfect proportion and shown to advantage by the tight bodice and waist of her dress. Kiele noted that Lyell was having trouble keeping his gaze from the full curves defined by that bodice. She made a mental note to seduce him tonight. She was not quite ready to have him stray from her bed-certainly not into Chiana's.

As was natural, talk turned to their siblings. "Naydra is plump and pleased with herself," Chiana said scornfully, "even though she hasn't been able to provide Narat with a son. I haven't heard from the others in quite some time. Do you have news of them?"

Kiele ran down the list automatically. "Pandsala sits at Castle Crag, as ever, being wise and bountiful. Moria sits in the dower house Prince Rohan gave her, watching the pine cones fall for all I know-or care. How she can stand the Veresch the whole year is beyond my comprehension. Moswen is visiting Prince Clutha-I think she hopes to snare Halian."

Chiana giggled. "That tall, thin drip of water with the mistress and daughters? What would she want him for?"

"His inheritance, of course," Lyell said. "I never met any of Roelstra's daughters who weren't ambitious." He said it fondly, with a proud glance at his wife.

"Practical, my love," she corrected. "And interested in survival." Her glance was equally loving, but inwardly she cursed him for his unwonted perception. If, however, he understood and was pleased by her ambition, then it would be that much easier to direct him in the matter of Masul. "Where was I? Ah, yes. Rabia's death has left Patwin inconsolable, it's said. But he'll probably find some charming girl this year and marry again. Danladi is at the Syrene court with Princess Gemma. And that's the roster, Chiana, except for you and me." She smiled her most winning smile. "I'm so glad you've come to help me with the Rialla Rialla this year. Clutha is so demanding-each has to be grander than the last, and I've run out of ideas!" this year. Clutha is so demanding-each has to be grander than the last, and I've run out of ideas!"

"I'm so glad I can be of help to you, Kiele. It'll be such fun! But tell me, what have you heard about this person who claims to be our brother?"

Unprepared for the question, Kiele hoped her sudden confusion would be taken as inability to express her outrage at so presumptuous a claim. Lyell filled the breach, and for one of the few times in her marriage Kiele thanked the G.o.ddess for the existence of her husband.

"It's annoying, of course," he said. "But none of our concern."

"They say he'll appear at the Rialla Rialla to claim Princemarch. Could he do that, Lyell?" to claim Princemarch. Could he do that, Lyell?"

He patted her arm. "Don't worry your pretty head about it."

But Chiana would, and Kiele knew it. She smiled.

Prince Clutha had spent his youth and middle age worrying about whether or not his beloved Meadowlord would be the battleground for the Desert and Princemarch. Mountains separated the two princedoms all along their mutual border, but Clutha's broad, gently rolling lands lay smack in the middle between the two; his sire and grandsire had both seen warring armies rage across the wheat fields, leaving burned crops and destroyed villages in their wake. Clutha had never much cared which came out on top, so long as the struggle did not take place on his territory. He had worked a.s.siduously for years to keep first Roelstra and Zehava and then Roelstra and Rohan from coming to blows. But for the fourteen years of Rohan's rule as High Prince and the union of the two lands, his worries on that score had vanished.

No longer concerned about his princedom's safety from without, he had turned his mind to its interior security. Of all his athr'im, athr'im, none had so much potential for both power and mischief as Lyell of Waes. Not that the man was particularly clever, or capable on his own of doing more than running his city with competence; it was Kiele, Roelstra's daughter, who worried Clutha. Lyell was tied to the Desert through his sister's marriage to Lord Eltanin of Tiglath. She and their elder son had died of Plague, but the younger, Tallain, survived as the heir. Clutha had countenanced Lyell's wedding to Roelstra's daughter because it would neatly balance the Desert commitment. He had not counted on the young lord's abandoning the Desert to throw in wholeheartedly with Roelstra in his war against Rohan. Ever since then, Clutha had kept a close eye on the rulers of Waes. none had so much potential for both power and mischief as Lyell of Waes. Not that the man was particularly clever, or capable on his own of doing more than running his city with competence; it was Kiele, Roelstra's daughter, who worried Clutha. Lyell was tied to the Desert through his sister's marriage to Lord Eltanin of Tiglath. She and their elder son had died of Plague, but the younger, Tallain, survived as the heir. Clutha had countenanced Lyell's wedding to Roelstra's daughter because it would neatly balance the Desert commitment. He had not counted on the young lord's abandoning the Desert to throw in wholeheartedly with Roelstra in his war against Rohan. Ever since then, Clutha had kept a close eye on the rulers of Waes.

Thus it was that he had left his squire behind after his visit that spring. The youth was not a welcome guest in the residence, but neither Kiele nor Lyell could refuse when their prince offered them his services. Clutha went home to Swalekeep well contented, for this squire was more than just a squire.

Riyan was the only son of Lord Ostvel of Skybowl-and a Sunrunner. At the age of twelve he had gone to Swalekeep for training as a knight, staying for two years before journeying to G.o.ddess Keep to learn the faradhi faradhi arts. Last summer, at nineteen, Riyan had come back to Meadowlord to prepare for his knighting this year at the arts. Last summer, at nineteen, Riyan had come back to Meadowlord to prepare for his knighting this year at the Rialla; Rialla; though he had been in effect Lord Urival's squire at G.o.ddess Keep, only a knight could make a knight, and Urival was not. So Clutha would be the one to give him the accolade and a new sword, at which point he would return to Lady Andrade for further education as a Sunrunner. though he had been in effect Lord Urival's squire at G.o.ddess Keep, only a knight could make a knight, and Urival was not. So Clutha would be the one to give him the accolade and a new sword, at which point he would return to Lady Andrade for further education as a Sunrunner.

It was a different plan from the one that had earned Lord Maarken his knighthood and his rings. Training young lords who were also faradh'im faradh'im was a new proposition, and Andrade was frankly experimenting with the best manner of accomplis.h.i.+ng it. Soon it would be decided how Prince Pol would be trained. Would he continue at Graypearl with Lleyn and Chadric, or curtail his pursuit of knighthood as Riyan had done in favor of earlier was a new proposition, and Andrade was frankly experimenting with the best manner of accomplis.h.i.+ng it. Soon it would be decided how Prince Pol would be trained. Would he continue at Graypearl with Lleyn and Chadric, or curtail his pursuit of knighthood as Riyan had done in favor of earlier faradhi faradhi education than Maarken had had? It was yet to be decided. education than Maarken had had? It was yet to be decided.

Riyan knew very well that he was an experiment, and did not mind in the least. He enjoyed both aspects of his training equally and antic.i.p.ated being the Sunrunner Lord of Skybowl without the slightest qualm. The difficulties that worried Maarken were things Riyan shrugged off. He understood the older lord's problem, but did not share it. In the first place, the power he would have as athri athri of Skybowl was much less than Maarken's as Lord of Radzyn. True, he would have jurisdiction over the gold caves, but others would see to the politics of the Desert and Princemarch. He also felt easier about his of Skybowl was much less than Maarken's as Lord of Radzyn. True, he would have jurisdiction over the gold caves, but others would see to the politics of the Desert and Princemarch. He also felt easier about his faradhi faradhi status than Maarken. Ostvel never expressed reservations about it the way Lord Chaynal sometimes did. Riyan didn't blame Chay; people who had never lived among Sunrunners often looked on them somewhat askance. But his own father had spent his childhood and youth at G.o.ddess Keep; Ostvel understood status than Maarken. Ostvel never expressed reservations about it the way Lord Chaynal sometimes did. Riyan didn't blame Chay; people who had never lived among Sunrunners often looked on them somewhat askance. But his own father had spent his childhood and youth at G.o.ddess Keep; Ostvel understood faradh'im. faradh'im.

Riyan's orientation was service to his prince, not rule on his own. Maarken would have to preside over Radzyn's vast independent holdings, help Pol govern, decide great questions of state, lead armies if necessary. None of that was in Riyan's future. His mother, Camigwen, had been chatelaine of Stronghold, but she had also been Sioned's dearest friend, sister rather than servant. Ostvel held Skybowl for Rohan, not for himself. Rohan had attempted to give him the same arrangement that he had with the most powerful of his va.s.sals: outright owners.h.i.+p of the land. But Ostvel had refused. Skybowl belonged to Rohan. Ostvel oversaw it and served his prince well and faithfully. When it came his turn, Riyan would do the same-both as athri athri and Sunrunner. and Sunrunner.

These weighty matters were not on his mind, however, as he lounged in his chamber at the Waes residence that night. He was thinking quite prosaically about the chances of getting to know a certain merchant's daughter a little better. The girl and her father had been his escort around Waes his first few days here as he got to know the port city. Jayachin was possessed of blue-black hair, eyes so blue they were nearly purple, and a skin like moonlight. Riyan had a deep and profound appreciation of the opposite s.e.x, especially its members who laughed at his jokes and resisted his advances up to a point. Her father had made certain he had gotten nowhere near that point yet, but Riyan was aware that the merchant was not insensible to the honor of having his daughter courted by the heir of Skybowl, friend to Prince Pol himself.

Riyan intended asking Jayachin tomorrow if she'd care to ride out with him for a day in the countryside. The weather for the past days had been brisk, with a strong wind off the bay savaging the new flowers in the garden to the despair of the groundskeepers. But tomorrow might be gentler. He rose from his bed and went over to the windows, parting the green silk curtains to take a look at the sky.

Recognizing the cloak-wrapped figure down below was easy; Kiele always wore a large gold ring set with diamonds on her right hand, and the thing grabbed even the faintest light. Riyan's brows shot up as she slid into the shadow of a tree. Why hide? he thought. He shrugged, let the curtain drop, and went back to the bed.

Sprawling across the coverlet, he tried to think about Jayachin. But the sight of Kiele tonight combined with his observations since Clutha's departure fit no pattern. Kiele's volume of private letters, some to her half sister Moswen at Swalekeep, some to a woman in Einar, was of interest. She sometimes disappeared all day into the city, saying afterward that she had been shopping-but she never came home with any packages. Once or twice he had followed her out of idle curiosity and discovered that she was remarkably adept at slipping into back streets, where he lost her. And, most puzzling of all, she had invited Chiana here to Waes for the summer.

Everybody knew how much Kiele hated her youngest sibling. Chiana's arrival tonight had been Riyan's cue to vanish upstairs. He knew he ought to have stayed and watched Kiele with her, but Chiana set his teeth on edge. She was beautiful, no doubt about that, and he supposed she could be charming when and if it suited her. But seeing her fawn all over Lyell had been a trifle too stomach-curdling for Riyan's taste that night.

Finally he admitted that Kiele's nocturnal stroll in the gardens bewildered him enough to make him haul on his boots and go downstairs. He had more or less learned the eccentric plan of the residence, and only took the wrong corridor one time out of five on average. Tonight he was accurate, and slipped out into the night.

He went to the place where she had stood, then retraced the steps she must have taken. The groundskeepers were in the process of replacing the white gravel along all the pathways; Riyan was in luck, for the bare dirt had been raked that afternoon. He called up a finger of Fire to give him light enough to see by, and followed her steps. They led directly to the back gate. His brows arched again at that; so it was not an evening meander in the gardens she had been about, but a return from elsewhere in the city. The gate was not fully closed. He opened it, wincing as hinges squeaked softly, and stood in the alley for a few moments, wondering which way she had come and gone. Perhaps this was something Andrade should know about.

Riyan paused, turning his face up to the moons chased by the wind across the sky. He clenched both hands loosely, feeling the four rings that marked him as an apprentice Sunrunner. He could do it on his own, though his technique sometimes left a little to be desired. But these were moons above him now, not the strong and steady light of the sun. The principle was the same; he wondered if he dared it, then smiled.

He closed his eyes, the better to feel the delicate strands of moonlight in his thoughts. With his mind he wove them together, tested them, and was pleased by their easy suppleness and strength. This was simpler than he'd been led to believe.

He threaded his own colors of garnet and pearl and carnelian into the plaited moonlight. They took on a new l.u.s.ter, s.h.i.+mmering subtly as he cast the weaving across dark land and star-sparkled water. Following the s.h.i.+ning pathway, he caught his breath at the beauty down below him and nearly forgot to stop at G.o.ddess Keep.

Someone he did not know was on duty tonight in the beautiful chamber with three gla.s.s walls where at least one Sunrunner always sat, waiting for any messages that might come on the light. The windows here were kept open except in a downpour, when cloud cover prohibited faradhi faradhi communication anyway. Riyan practically danced through one window and brushed against the unknown Sunrunner's colors. communication anyway. Riyan practically danced through one window and brushed against the unknown Sunrunner's colors.

G.o.ddess blessing! he greeted cheerfully. he greeted cheerfully. Riyan of Skybowl, with word for Lady Andrade. Riyan of Skybowl, with word for Lady Andrade.

The person's startlement was almost funny. After a hasty greeting in return there was an apology and a promise to go find the Lady. Riyan hovered in the room, waiting, imagining what must be going on. The duty Sunrunner would be shouting all over the keep; Andrade would demand to know what in the name of all h.e.l.ls was going on. It would take her some time to climb the stairs from her chambers to the room of gla.s.s- In far less time than he imagined, there was a powerful presence on the moonlight that captured his weaving and threaded it through with veritable ropes made of moonlight. What do you think you're up to, you young idiot? What do you think you're up to, you young idiot?

I'm sorry, my Lady, but I thought- You thought wrong! Can't you feel that the strands are too frail to get you back safely to Waes? And what are you doing in Waes, anyway? Why wasn't I informed?

Prince Clutha left me here to watch Lady Kiele and Lord Lyell. And there's been quite a lot to watch. Chiana's here, for one thing.

Andrade's brilliant colors flared painfully and Riyan winced. All right, tell me the whole of it. All right, tell me the whole of it.

He did so, sensing her astonishment and her suspicions. When he was finished, he heard something like a hissing intake of breath, and wondered if it was only his past experience of her that made him imagine it. You did the right thing by telling me, You did the right thing by telling me, she admitted. she admitted. Keep watching Kiele when you can-and Chiana, too. But by the G.o.ddess, the next time you'll wait for sunlight or I'll skin you alive and nail your hide to the refectory wall as a caution to all the other young fools who think they know everything! Keep watching Kiele when you can-and Chiana, too. But by the G.o.ddess, the next time you'll wait for sunlight or I'll skin you alive and nail your hide to the refectory wall as a caution to all the other young fools who think they know everything!

Yes, my Lady, he replied meekly. he replied meekly.

Do you understand me, Riyan? If you'd tried to return, the moonlight would have unraveled like a rotted blanket-and you would have been shadow-lost. Those four rings of yours do not not allow you to attempt Moonrunning! Now, let's get you back where you started, shall we? allow you to attempt Moonrunning! Now, let's get you back where you started, shall we?

The moonlight was like a gigantic bolt of silk flung from G.o.ddess Keep to Waes. He slid along it pell-mell, breathless at the speed and the whirl of colors around him. Back in the alley outside the garden again, he watched with his mind as Andrade effortlessly disentangled him from the weave and vanished back along her silken moonlight.

It took him a few moments to recover. But it took him no time at all to promise himself that he would not try that again until he had been properly instructed. The moons might be nearer than the sun, but the light they gave off was thinner, more delicate. He didn't want to think about what might have happened if he'd tried to come back on his own.

Andrade had not left her chambers, merely woven the moonlight from her windows. On returning she glanced at Urival and Andry, who had joined her after the evening meal to discuss the scrolls again. "It seems interesting things are happening," she said, and told them the gist of her conversation with Riyan.

Urival nodded slowly. " 'Interesting' is the right word for now. I only hope these things don't become 'fascinating.' "