Gail Martin - The blood king

Tris looked at Taru. "There's something you're not saying. Something important."

Taru nodded. "When you fight the avatars, they will have the face and form of others. Jared, perhaps. Arontala. And you may find allies-like Vahanian, or Kiara." She paused again. "The magic and the weapons will be real. In the most extreme simulations, wardings will be set that cannot be broken except by completing the task. In the case of a confrontation with Jared's avatar, for example-" "It's not over until one of us is dead," Tris finished tightly. Taru nodded.

"Taru, you can't be serious!" Carina protested. She moved away from the fire to join them.

Taru met Carina's gaze. "If he can't stand up to the Sisterhood, what chance has he against Arontala-or the Obsidian King?"

"And so you thought to do Arontala's work for him?" Carina demanded.

Taru looked down, and began to pace again. "There's been a great deal of debate-heated debate-about whether the Sisterhood should involve itself at all in your training," she said with a glance at Tris. "I suspect the decision to bring you here was made more out of fear that some of us would do it, regardless."

"From the Sisterhood's perspective-and I'm not saying it's my view-the only thing that matters is keeping the Obsidian King from rising again, or at

least, containing the damage if he does." She looked to Tris and Carina. "The Sisterhood is not concerned with the kingship of Margolan, or with undoing Jared's damage-or with healing King Donelan by destroying Arontala." Taru shook her head. "The Sisterhood tends to take a historic view of such things which can be damnably impersonal." "What could be worse than the Obsidian King rising and taking over Arontala's body?" Carina burst out. Even before Taru spoke, Tris knew what she would say, and that knowledge chilled him to the bone.

"It would be worse if he arose in the body of a great Summoner," Taru said quietly. "The Sisterhood agreed to train you because they need to assure themselves that you will not fail. Above all, they don't wish to face the Obsidian King again as he once was, with a Summoner's power."

"Then grandmother was correct-Lemuel was possessed?" Tris said. Taru nodded. "So if I'm not strong enough to succeed, they want me to fail here, even if it kills me?" "Yes." "I see."

"You don't know how much they fear the Obsidian King," said Taru. "You passed one small test when Alyzza found you in the caravan-"

"Alyzza was a Sister?" Carina exclaimed, remembering the disheveled old woman who had traveled with their caravan in Margolan.

Taru smiled. "Did you really believe she was a hedge witch? Many years ago, Alyzza was a great sorceress. When Bava K'aa was taken prisoner by the Obsidian King, Alyzza and King Argus used their magic to enable Lord Grayson to rescue Bava K'aa from the Obsidian King's stronghold."

She shook her head. "The effort killed King Argus, and badly injured Alyzza. Her mind was never the same afterwards. Bava K'aa barely survived. Elam was Bava K'aa's healer, and Elam wouldn't let anyone else near your grandmother, even though it took a long time to heal her. Elam performed the marriage between Grayson and Bava K'aa when your grandmother was barely recovered from her injuries. And Elam delivered Bava K'aa's child-your mother, Serae," Taru said with a glance toward Tris.

Outside, the bells tolled eight times. Taru looked at Tris and Carina apologetically. "I know you've barely had a chance to get warm and put down your things, but we're due in the council chambers," Taru said. "You'll be formally introduced, and Sister Elam will present your first trainers. Your challenges begin today."

Carina took a half step forward. "Who will be in the council chamber?" Tris had the sense, as he had often felt at Westmarch, that Carina and Taru's acquaintance stemmed from somewhere before this present quest.

Taru gave a half-smile that did not reach her eyes. "Some friends-and others I'm not sure about." She paused. "Sister Elam was the same age as Tris's grandmother. She took over the leadership of the Sisterhood after Bava K'aa's death."

"Sister Landis will be Elam's successor," Taru said neutrally, but Tris saw a shadow of distaste color Carina's face. "She was one of the younger mages at the time of the Mage War, and she often clashed with Bava K'aa over the role of the Sisterhood. Landis' assistant, Alaine, may have recently given her reason to reconsider. Alaine was staying with another of our citadels when it was overrun by Jared's troops. She barely escaped."

Taru drew a deep breath. "And then there's Theron."

Carina muttered something that Tris did not catch.

"Theron will be one of your trainers," Taru said. "She comes from Eastmark, and so her style may be similar to what you've learned from Kiara and Jonmarc." Taru frowned. "You may find that compared to Theron, Jonmarc's training style is merciful."

Merciful, Tris thought wryly. An odd word to use. Considering the pounding I've taken in the salle from Jonmarc, that doesn't bode well.

Tris drew a deep breath, fighting his fear. Sweet Chenne, what have I gotten myself into? He knew that his real enemy was time. It was less than a fortnight before the Crone Moon, the last month of the year. The Hawthorn Moon at mid-year was just seven months away. There was very little time to prepare.

Tris knew what his failure would mean. Kiara delivered into Jared's control, a thought that made his blood run cold. Jonmarc and the others hanged for treason. No relief for Margolan, and no justice for the wretched souls under Jared's yoke. War, as Jared and Arontala sought to expand their boundaries among the Winter Kingdoms. If he could prevent that future, Tris was willing to risk the confrontation-even if it cost him his life. But Taru raised the thought that death was not the worst outcome, and the possibility that he might be possessed, his power used against his will, hardened Tris's resolve. He felt a coldness wash over him that had nothing to do with the chill in the corridor. Taru was right-there was no alternative.

The citadel smelled of candle wax and herbs, with the musty scent of long-unused rooms. Taru stopped in front of two iron-bound double doors. The sound of raised voices carried through the heavy doors. While the words were not clear, the passion of the women's voices was evident. One voice, higher in pitch, sounded angry. The other voice, low-pitched and measured, seemed resolute. Taru grimaced and rapped loudly at the door. The voices stopped abruptly, and Taru gestured for the doors too open.

Creaking heavily on their hinges, the doors slowly swung backward. Inside, the council chamber was hung with heavy tapestries, lit by a bank of torches and two fireplaces which were each the length and height of a tall man. Above the long table of dark wood hung two multi-tiered candelabra, each holding dozens of candles. Even that light did not seem to completely dispel the shadows. Despite the roaring fires, Tris shivered as he stepped into the room.

Four robed Sisters were seated at the table. At the center, facing Tris, was an old woman, cadaver-thin and very wrinkled. He guessed that she was Elam. At her right was an empty seat, and Tris assumed it was for Taru. To the thin woman's left was another Sister in her middle years with a determined expression. Landis? He wondered. With gray short hair and a serious expression, she looked as if an inner dialogue continued the discussion they had overheard from the hallway.

At Landis's left was a younger woman who watched Tris intently. With dark blonde hair pulled back into a plain braid, she looked haggard. Tris guessed this was Alaine, Landis's assistant. To the right of the empty seat was another young mage, a woman perhaps ten years Tris's senior, whose lean form and strong arms seemed more fitting for a fighter than a sorceress. Her dark hair was cut short so that it stood up, brush-like, on her head. She seemed to be sizing Tris up like a sergeant-at-arms appraising a new recruit. He had no doubt that she was Theron. The Sisters did not seem to be concerned with Carina. She stepped behind him, as if relieved to be overlooked.