The Sleeping God Part 37

"Of course he didn't." Parno could have kicked himself. "The man could barely walk to the door unaided. Who thought he could walk out the gate?" He turned to Dhulyn. "Was he shamming all along?"

She was shaking her head, slowly, her eyes looking at but not seeing the tables and chairs of the Tarkina's anteroom.

"When did this happen?"

"Just before we arrived. Perhaps ten minutes ago, a little more."

"What color were his eyes?" she asked. Parno looked to Karlyn, but the man was shaking his head. That was a detail no one would have thought to check.

The silence lifted Dhulyn's eyes to meet Parno's.

"We're going to have to leave him tied up," she said, indicating the inner room with her chin. "No matter who he is."

Twenty-three.

DHULYN LEANED AGAINST the wall behind Zelianora Tarkina, watching the familiar faces around the table. She and Parno could have had seats at the table as well-and maybe Parno would have liked that, she thought, looking sideways at him out of the corner of her eye-but she felt more comfortable on her feet, where she could watch everyone and move quickly, should it prove to be necessary.

They were in the private council chamber in the north tower of the Carnelian Dome. Zelianora Tarkina sat at one end of the oval table, to the right of Bet-oTeb, present as the official representative of her absent father. The Tarkina was pale, and there were lines around her lips that had not been there last night. In no other way did she show the fear and worry that she must have been feeling. The Tarkin-to-be was a copy of her mother, down to the rigidly straight back and the frown line between the eyebrows. On Bet-oTeb's left was Dal-eDal, Tenebroso in all but name, with Karlyn-Tan leaning against the wall behind him, which put the former Steward directly across from Dhulyn herself. To Dal's left was Cullen of Langeron, and the Racha bird Disha paced back and forth upon the table itself, pausing every now and then, turning her head to watch the person speaking.

And to round out the circle of those who knew about the Green Shadow, Gundaron and Mar-eMar sat together at the end of the table farthest from the Tarkina and Bet-oTeb. Dhulyn narrowed her eyes. They were never far from one another, those two, and Dhulyn wasn't at all sure how she felt about that. She told herself it was none of her business. Mar had made herself very useful to Zelianora and her pages, and whatever had brought her to Gotterang in the first place, she now seemed well placed in the Tarkin's court. Gundaron had pledged himself to the Tarkina also, Dhulyn had heard. All she knew for certain was that the boy was looking thinner than was good for him. He also looked older, more thoughtful, as well he might. But he still had trouble meeting people's eyes.

"The Shadow has left the Tarkin, then?" Dal was saying. "Can he tell us anything?"

Zelianora Tarkina had been murmuring something to her daughter, but at this question she raised her head and looked around the table, taking in each face in turn. Now Dhulyn could see the exhaustion in the woman's eyes, held at bay by the firmness of her mouth. The Tarkina shook her head.

"He is Tek-aKet, of that I'm certain, and Dhulyn Wolfshead agrees," she said. "But his mind still wanders."

Dhulyn cleared her throat. "It was the same with Beslyn-Tor. He could not focus for more than a few moments at a time." The Tarkin had been moved to his own chamber, where Corin Wintermoon stood guard beside the bed. She'd been warned not to untie the Tarkin, no matter what was said, or who requested it-and to be especially suspicious if the man became lucid. Now that they knew the Shadow could revisit former hosts, they could not afford to leave Tek-aKet unbound. Though, Dhulyn admitted to herself, it was all too likely the creature could destroy any restraints holding it, if it didn't mind the cost to the body housing it.

"The Tarkin will know things about the Shadow," she continued, turning to Zelianora and Bet-oTeb. "Just like the Jaldean did. Things that could help us. We must question him, even if his mind is wandering." She could understand that their first concern would be for the father, the husband, the leader of Imrion. But they hadn't seen the Green Shadow, or spoken to it. Hadn't see the NOT NOT that it would make of their lives and their world, if they did not find it and destroy it. that it would make of their lives and their world, if they did not find it and destroy it.

Bet-oTeb spoke up, her clear child's voice startling. "Can't we-could we not find a Healer? Somewhere? I have heard that there are Marked among the Cloud People. Would they be willing to help us?"

Dhulyn was pleased that the child who was to be the next Tarkin spoke of willingness to help, rather than of forcing. That boded well for everyone's future, if they all came out of this alive, and in their right minds.

"There is a Healer in the Trevel settlement," Cullen said. Disha shrugged her wings and walked up the table toward him in her peculiar rocking gait. "Disha says that if she leaves now, she can be back before nightfall, but the Healer, even if she's found quickly and is willing to come," he spread his hands. "It would take more than half a moon for someone to get here from the mountains."

"I would be very grateful if you would go," Bet-oTeb said, addressing the bird directly. Disha opened and closed her wings with a snap, hopped to Cullen's shoulder where she b.u.t.ted his cheek with her head as if she were a cat, and from there launched herself out the open window next to Dhulyn.

"I don't think we have half a moon," Dal said. "The Houses are already beginning to ask questions. If Tek is not able to take part in the Dedication Ceremony, they may very well ask for the Carnelian Throne to be set to the Ballot, and if that occurs, we must ask ourselves how likely it is that Bet will be chosen as Tarkin."

"And where will that leave us?" Bet-oTeb asked.

Dal shrugged. "At the moment we are holding secure. As Dhulyn Wolfshead suggested, we've let rumors be spread that Beslyn-Tor is stricken with an illness that spreads on the touch. People are asked to report if they've seen him, without trying to capture him themselves. I think a good many people will be happy to do just that, especially since the rumor carries word of a reward."

"There are still those among the New Believers who may hide him," Karlyn-Tan said.

"That's so," agreed Dal. "But most of the Houses are with us-either really with us, or holding off to see what happens next, depending on their spirit. The conservative faction of the Jaldeans, the Old Believers, are also making overtures toward the Tarkin, now that it's obvious the New Believers have lost so much of their former power. But if Tek-aKet does not regain his health, and a Ballot is demanded . . . " Dal lifted his shoulders and spread his hands. He turned his eyes toward Parno, leaning against the wall within touching distance of Dhulyn.

"We would lose our leverage, our ability to act freely against the Shadow," Parno said. "We stand in a position of strength only so long as we can be seen as acting on the Tarkin's orders. Without him, we have no authority."

Dhulyn looked between the two men. If it was left to Dal, she realized, there would always be a connection between them, no matter what Parno thought.

"He must be made well again," Zelianora said. "There must be a way."

"Gundaron of Valdomar," Dhulyn said, turning to look down the length of the table. "Have your researches told you anything that could help us?"

The boy glanced quickly at Mar before he spoke. "I'm afraid I know of nothing that might help the Tarkin," he said. His voice, though quiet, was trained for the lecture hall, clear and carrying. "At least-there are several indications that this is not the first time we've been visited by this Shadow. The very oldest texts, those which date to the times of the Caids-we always thought they were legends really, myths, but many of them speak of a time of great peril, a time when the world itself was in grave danger. Texts speak of floods and earthquakes, but there's one of the Eshcaidath scrolls-" Here the boy sat up straighter, gaining poise and confidence from the familiarity of reporting on his researches, and looked at Dhulyn, waiting for her nod of recognition before he continued. "It speaks of an 'undoing', a kind of dissolving, of large areas of land where there seemed to be no land, and where beasts and men died blue, as if their breathing had stopped."

Yes, Dhulyn thought, her heart pounding. That's what the Shadow had meant, when it spoke of making nothing. What it had done so casually to the small bench in the Tarkina's room, it wished to do to the whole world. Dhulyn thought, her heart pounding. That's what the Shadow had meant, when it spoke of making nothing. What it had done so casually to the small bench in the Tarkina's room, it wished to do to the whole world.

Cullen leaned forward, drawing in his attention from the distance where Dhulyn was sure he followed his Racha's flight.

"The Dead Lands," he said. Dhulyn found she was nodding along with the Scholar.

"But the peril was overcome?" Zelianora said.

"It was. The people called upon the Sleeping G.o.d, and the G.o.d awoke. When the peril was banished, the G.o.d slept again, or departed, or, well-again the texts differ."

"But have the same essential meaning." Dhulyn s.h.i.+fted her weight to her left leg. "Beslyn-Tor told us. The Green Shadow fears the G.o.d."

"The New Believers said," Bet-oTeb said, her girl's light voice trembling, "that we are the dream of the G.o.d, and if he awakens, the world will be destroyed."

Gundaron shook his head, his lips pressed together. "There's just no basis for that idea in any text, book, or scroll. And the Old Believers among the Jaldeans have always denied it. The ancient stories say that the G.o.d awakened to destroy this great evil, this peril. So the G.o.d was was awake, do you understand? It destroyed the peril and then . . ." awake, do you understand? It destroyed the peril and then . . ."

"Fell asleep again?" Parno's voice was a soft rumble.

Gundaron shrugged, and nodded.

"Are we in any doubt that this is the same peril?" Karlyn-Tan asked.

"Given the use it has made of the New Believers, and its insistence that the Sleeping G.o.d not not be awakened, I think not," Dhulyn said. be awakened, I think not," Dhulyn said.

"How do we we awaken the G.o.d?" Strangely, it was Bet-oTeb who voiced the question in everyone's mind, as if, childlike, she was not afraid to ask. awaken the G.o.d?" Strangely, it was Bet-oTeb who voiced the question in everyone's mind, as if, childlike, she was not afraid to ask.

Gundaron licked his lips, glanced again at Mar, and seemed to draw strength from her.

"The stories don't say how," he said. "Just that the call went out into the world, and the Sleeping G.o.d awoke and came."

"How can they not say?" Zelianora ma.s.saged her temples with her fingertips.

"It's not unusual," Dhulyn said. "It's the reason there are so many commentaries on the old books. The writers take a certain knowledge for granted, they a.s.sume a shared understanding. They say 'the enemy,' without naming or describing the foe-for them, there can be only one enemy, and description is unnecessary."

"But how could this be?" Dal slapped the tabletop with his hand.

Parno shrugged. "When you tell someone how to catch fish, do you tell them what a fish is? What it looks like? Of course not, everyone knows what a fish is. But when we were in the deserts of Mondothir, we had to draw pictures of fish in the sands, for some of the tribes there had never seen one. These texts, they would be like that."

"So Scholars try to understand fis.h.i.+ng, without ever having seen a fish?"

"Something like that, yes."

"We must remember," Gun said. "What we have in our Libraries of the times of the Caids are mere sc.r.a.ps of their writings and knowledge. In his Commentaries, Commentaries, Holderon speculates that by the time the Shadow was finally defeated, so much of the land had been laid waste, blighted by its presence, that the rule of law collapsed. There followed a long period-no one knows how long, really, but it must have been generations, not years-before the books were gathered again, and learning reestablished. It was then that the first Jaldean Shrines, the Scholars' Libraries and the Mercenary Schools were founded, then that the Marked were first gathered into Guilds." Holderon speculates that by the time the Shadow was finally defeated, so much of the land had been laid waste, blighted by its presence, that the rule of law collapsed. There followed a long period-no one knows how long, really, but it must have been generations, not years-before the books were gathered again, and learning reestablished. It was then that the first Jaldean Shrines, the Scholars' Libraries and the Mercenary Schools were founded, then that the Marked were first gathered into Guilds."

"And if the method of calling the Sleeping G.o.d is in one of these lost texts?" A silence followed Zelianora's words.

"Excuse me," Mar said, blus.h.i.+ng as everyone in the room turned their eyes to her. "But surely calling the Sleeping G.o.d must have something to do with the Marked?" Her voice faltered as she took in the faces of those staring at her. "Mustn't it? The Shadow has been gathering and destroying the Marked for months, maybe years. And Tek-aKet, when Dhulyn Wolfshead-I mean, the Shadow tried to destroy her as well."

"Wonderful," Parno growled. "And the only trained Marks more than half a moon away."

"Cullen?"

The Cloudman was already on his feet and heading for the door. "Let me go to a rooftop. Sometimes I can reach over greater distances if I have greater height."

"Dhulyn Wolfshead." Zelianora Tarkina spoke into the silence that followed Cullen's departure. "Before I return to Tek, I must ask. I have told myself time and again that I will not, but you have saved him twice now. Have you Seen anything?" The Tarkina rubbed her forehead with a hand that trembled. "I'm sorry. I know you would have said."

"I have Seen nothing new for days," Dhulyn said. "And what I have Seen-" she shook her head, frustration rising yet again. By force of will she kept herself from glancing down the table at Mar and Gundaron. "Without a context, the things I have have Seen mean nothing. I do not even always recognize the people I See. Are my Sights important to our dilemma? How can I know?" Seen mean nothing. I do not even always recognize the people I See. Are my Sights important to our dilemma? How can I know?"

Zelianora bit her lip, then nodded her head. She patted her daughter's arm and stood.

"Send for me if there is any change," Dhulyn said to her. "And, Tarkina, don't release him, no matter what he says or does."

The face that turned toward her at these words was not the face of the loving wife, but the face of a Queen's sister, and a future Tarkin's mother. "No fear," that regal face said. "I will not."

Dhulyn leaned back against the wall as the discussion went on among Dal-eDal, Gundaron, and Parno. Her Partner pulled out Zelianora's chair and sat down. She had nothing more to contribute, they were only rechewing the same mouthful of overcooked stew. She hadn't told the strict truth, but only Parno knew it. She hadn't hadn't Seen anything useful. She'd had several Visions more than once, but nothing that could help them. Mar-eMar in her silver gown. The unknown man-a mage? a king?-with his magic window. Was that a way to make the Shadow disperse? Would someone else call it into a different land? Gundaron sitting at a table, looking down on something. She repressed the urge to spit, mindful of Zelianora's clean parquet floor. Seen anything useful. She'd had several Visions more than once, but nothing that could help them. Mar-eMar in her silver gown. The unknown man-a mage? a king?-with his magic window. Was that a way to make the Shadow disperse? Would someone else call it into a different land? Gundaron sitting at a table, looking down on something. She repressed the urge to spit, mindful of Zelianora's clean parquet floor. Now Now there there was useful Sight was useful Sight. A Scholar, seated, looking down at a tabletop. If the Marks were a creation of the Caids, as some of the stories Gundaron had been talking about alleged, she wished she had a few of those old-timers with her now. She would give them the benefit of her thoughts on the subject of the Sight.

A movement at the far end of the table caught her eye, Gundaron fidgeting with his pen case. If her her Mark could not help them, and there was no Healer near enough to reach them quickly-would a different Mark be of more use? Mark could not help them, and there was no Healer near enough to reach them quickly-would a different Mark be of more use?

It was past time this meeting was ended.

Dhulyn Wolfshead sighed heavily, turned a chair around, and sat astride it, resting her cheek on her hands.

"Gundaron-Sun and Moon are my witness, if I were going to kill you, I should have done it long before. Will you look at me, and listen? Mar, can you help us?"

The touch of Mar's hand on his shoulder was like a rope to a drowning man, firm, stong, life-giving. "Gun, I've I've told you Dhulyn Wolfshead wouldn't hurt you, and now told you Dhulyn Wolfshead wouldn't hurt you, and now she's she's told you. What more do you want than her own word?" told you. What more do you want than her own word?"

He looked from the Mercenary's face to Mar's and back again. Dhulyn Wolfshead raised one eyebrow and slowly blinked.

"What are you more afraid of," she said. "That I will will kill you, or that I won't?" kill you, or that I won't?"

Gundaron's lips parted, but no protest came out.

"Wolfshead!" It was Mar who spoke, a wrinkle forming between her deep blue eyes.

"Would you rather he wasn't wasn't bothered by what he's done?" the Wolfshead said, her voice calm as still water. bothered by what he's done?" the Wolfshead said, her voice calm as still water.

"But he's trying to help. The Tarkina and Bet-oTeb forgave him." Mar spoke her next words to Dhulyn Wolfshead, but she looked at him when she spoke. "I forgive him."

"He hasn't forgiven himself."

Heat burned through Gun's face and he lowered his eyes. Not that Dhulyn Wolfshead wasn't perfectly able to read him without looking into them. How did she do this? How did she know him so well?

"People are dead because of me," he said. "No amount of 'help' can bring them back."

"Many have died at our hands also," Parno Lionsmane's light voice fell softly into the air. "And many are also alive because of us. You still live; you have time to make the second true for yourself as well."

"You're not the first to do what he finds repulsive," the Wolfshead said. "And you won't be the last, blood knows, people being people. But you stopped the first chance you had, hold to that." She shook her head, blood-red braids s.h.i.+vering. "Words won't help you, at least not now. But I a.s.sure you, time will, if you let it." She looked at Mar before turning her steel-gray gaze back to him. "In the meantime, since you're sworn to help, I'd like to share a thought with you. I'm thinking that when something is lost, it's a Finder we need, not a Healer."

"You might have thought of this before the Racha bird was sent," Parno Lionsmane said, with just enough sarcasm in his tone to ease the tension in the air. "We've no more a Finder than we have a Healer."

"I think we do," Dhulyn Wolfshead said. "What do you think, Gundaron of Valdomar?"

"How-" Gun's throat closed. He would have said it was impossible, but he was sure he felt the blood drain from his face. He hadn't . . . How could could she know? Had she Seen? He shot a quick glance at Mar, but she was shaking her head. she know? Had she Seen? He shot a quick glance at Mar, but she was shaking her head.

"I didn't-" Mar subsided when the Wolfshead raised her hand.

"No one told me," she said. "Except you, yourself, when I thought about what you have done. Found doc.u.ments left carelessly aside for centuries. Found the secrets of tribes and cities lost for generations. When Marked were wanted, you Found them." Dhulyn Wolfshead paused, tapped herself on the breastbone, causing tiny bells tied into the laces of her vest to chime. "When a Seer was wanted, you Found her. You told Parno where to find the Green Shadow when it was in Lok-iKol-ah, you thought we'd forgotten that. Even now, you know where to Find the information that we need."

"But that's research . . ." Gun let his protest trail away. He could not use that lie again-not even to himself.

The Mercenary was shaking her head. "You forget, I've been trained as a Scholar myself, though it was not the life for me. I know how research is done, and the kinds of answers it produces. And how swiftly. And how many important answers in one person's lifetime. What you do is not research. Your books may have told you what what to look for, they couldn't have told you to look for, they couldn't have told you where where. You are Finding." When Gun still hesitated, the Wolfshead went on, her voice rough but warm. "Come now. The time for secrets is past."

"I've never . . ." Gun took a deep breath. He'd never convince anyone unless he could speak clearly. "I meant to tell you, after Lok-iKol, it's just . . . I've always kept it secret. I'm a Scholar. It's all I ever wanted. Even before the Jaldeans turned against the Marked, I never wanted to be . . ."

"Do you think I wanted it?" The Wolfshead was quiet but firm. "Untrained and half useless as it is? The world is not what we want, but what we make make." She paused, as if that word had some special significance for her, before continuing. "I wish your world was was the Library carrels, the shelves of books, and the under-Scholars fetching ink and pens. Once I wished that for myself . . . I know how precious it is. But you are needed for more than that now. Wish for it or no, you will have to come out of your Library now and join the rest of us out here on the edge of the knife. the Library carrels, the shelves of books, and the under-Scholars fetching ink and pens. Once I wished that for myself . . . I know how precious it is. But you are needed for more than that now. Wish for it or no, you will have to come out of your Library now and join the rest of us out here on the edge of the knife.

"You are a Finder, Scholar Gundaron. I am a Seer. Neither of us wants this. But we are what we are."

Gundaron hung his head, aware as if from a distance that he was shaking it ever so slightly, wanting to deny her words. But Dhulyn Wolfshead was right. He lifted his head and found the Mercenary's cool gray eyes ready to meet his. Next to her, leaning his hip against the table's edge stood her Partner, Parno Lionsmane, the left corner of his mouth lifted. Beside them sat Mar, her blue eyes darker than usual with concern. When his eyes found hers, she smiled, her face lighting as if from within, and for an instant his heart stopped beating as the breath caught in his throat.

He would have to come out into the world. But he wouldn't be alone.

"What do you want me to do?" he said. He'd thought his voice would shake, but it rang out firm and true.

"The Tarkin's mind is lost. I would like you to Find it."

Gun's heart sank like a stone into a lake turning to ice. "The Tarkin Tarkin? But how? I'm not trained trained. To Find something like that . . ."

"How did you Find the Green Shadow?"