Guy Kay - Ysabel

“Not difficult. He made a bust of himself long ago, for her. You could have thought of that—which of us is the sculptor?”

Ned swallowed.

“For the rest…we both sensed you as soon as you arrived. I was curious, he was more than that, it now seems. He needed you more. It wouldn’t have been difficult to learn who your father was—and where he was going that morning, Ned.”

First time he’d ever used Ned’s name.

“I imagine, if you bother to check, you’ll find the two things were stolen from the museum storage the night before you found them. He had them with him and was watching to see if you went inside the cathedral that morning. If you hadn’t, he’d have tried something else. Or not. He’ll never have only one thought, you know.”

“Oh, God,” Ned said.

“Should we believe you?” Meghan Marriner asked quietly.

Cadell looked at her. “You’ve given me a great deal, coming here, and I’m grateful. A debt. I have no reason to lie.”

There was a silence. The round tower rose above them. A backdrop.

“I told him something,” Ned said. “When he left.”

“And that was?” Cadell’s voice changed, a rising note.

Ned drew a breath. “I told him I’d sensed her…Ysabel…in the cemetery.”

That tension again, as if the air around them were a stringed instrument, vibrating.

“And now you’re angry with him and telling me?”

“I feel cheated.”

Cadell shook his head. “He does what he can. We don’t fight the same way.”

“He can’t fly, or summon spirits,” Kimberly murmured.

“Neither of those, no.”

“And he has to be there when she’s summoned?”

The big man nodded. “He’s at risk, otherwise. There have been times she’s come to me simply because he wasn’t there.”

“Unfair,” Meghan Marriner said.

“Why would it be fair?” He turned to Ned. “You must hear what I am trying to say: everything else, everyone else, is insignificant. It is about her. It always has been since he came through the forest.”

Ned looked away, fists clenched. “Fine. None of us matter a damn. I get it. Well, now I’ve told you both. Keeps it even.”

“He kept it even, too,” Kim said, still quietly. “At the villa. Wounded himself.”

Cadell laughed. The amusement angered Ned now. “I wouldn’t have done that, I confess it. He’s a different man.”

The Celt stood up, shirtless again, the bandage white in the moonlight. You were made aware of ease and power as he moved. “I must go.”

“Does it matter, what Ned said about the cemetery?” Kim asked.

“Of course it does. A place she’s been?”

“You’ll go there now?”

Cadell nodded. “I may even meet him there. Which would be amusing.” He glanced at Ned. “I’ll tell him he’s disappointed you.”

“You can’t fight each other,” Ned said quickly.

Cadell smiled. “I know. She forbade that, didn’t she?”

He turned to go down the slope that would take him towards the city. He stopped and looked back. Phelan hadn’t done that.

“Move away from us,” Cadell said. “Let it go. You’ll hurt yourself. It doesn’t have to happen.”

Then he went from them, disappearing down the path.

NED’S MOTHER PACKED her kit. When she was done, they started back the way they’d come. Ned didn’t use the flashlight, the moon seemed bright enough. He walked ahead, could hear his mother and aunt behind him.

“You understand all this, I guess?” his mother said.

Aunt Kim walked a few steps without answering. “Some. Not the details, but I know things like this can happen.”

“You know, because of before?”

“Of course.”

“And Ned’s…like you?” His mother’s voice was tentative.

“Not quite the same, but yes. You know the family stories, Meg. You grew up with them.”

“I know. I don’t like them.”

“I know.”

Stars overhead and the wind. Ned put up his jacket hood. He was still trying to deal with anger, this new feeling of having been abused by Phelan that first morning. A con job, a guy doing the shell game on a sidewalk table. Drawing him in with that underground deception. Then telling him to go away, in the cloister—just another way of luring him?

He remembered the man’s fury, coming down off the roof. Surely that had been real? Maybe…maybe Ned had moved faster, ended up closer, known more than Phelan had expected?

Right. Like he was going to figure this out, however hard he worked at it.

He put his hands in his pockets. Tried to see it from the other man’s point of view. Outnumbered by Cadell, who had the spirits with him, Beltaine coming, far less power than them, needing to know where the summoning would be, and then this kid with a link to their world shows up…

Ned sighed. He could see it.

He just couldn’t get past the anger. This version of the story made him feel so naive, so stupidly young. He forced himself to remember Phelan at Entremont, telling them how to leave, and when, to save their lives. Cadell wouldn’t have killed them there, but Brys would have. And he could have, that night.

It was hard to stay angry, and as hard to let go of it.

He heard his mother again. “Kim, do you have any idea how difficult this is for me?”

“Of course I do.”

“I wonder. I can’t lose Ned the way I lost you.”

That got his attention.

After a few more steps, his aunt said, carefully, “Meg, I was changed, I wasn’t lost. Maybe it was my fault, but I didn’t have enough in me to make it easier for you. By the time I did…”

“It was too late. Old story?”

“Old story,” his aunt agreed.

He heard only their footsteps on the path for a while. Then his mother said, quietly, “Did they die? Your friends?”

Ned strained to hear. This was all new to him.

Aunt Kim murmured, “One did. A darling man. Saved everything, really. One stayed there. One…found what she was, and joy in the end. Dave and I came home.”

“And were punished?”

“Oh, Meg. Don’t let’s go there. I did something important. You pay a price, sometimes. Like you, when you go to war zones.”

“It’s not the same thing. Nothing near.”

“Near enough.”

He heard his mother make a sound that could have been laughter, or not. “You’re being a big sister. Trying to make me feel better.”

“Haven’t had much chance.”

The same sound again.

“I made it worse for you, when you came back, didn’t I?”

Aunt Kim said nothing. She couldn’t, Ned realized: she’d either have to lie, or admit that it was true, and she wouldn’t want to do either. He felt like an intruder again, listening. He quickened his pace, moved farther ahead. He took out his cellphone and dialed his uncle. It was picked up, first ring.

“Where are you?”

“On our way back. It’s okay.”

“Everyone?”

“We’re fine. It was pretty intense.”

His uncle said nothing.

“Honestly,” Ned said. “We’re fine.”

“Where are Kim and your mom?”

“Just behind me. They’re talking.”

“Oh.”

“We’ll be there in a few.”

“I’m here,” his uncle said.

He hadn’t been, for all Ned’s life. It was a nice thing to hear. He said, “We won’t have a lot of time. We have to focus now, to get her back.” His math teacher talked about focusing all the time.

His uncle cleared his throat. “Ned, I was going to say this before we went to bed. You need to think about the possibility that we won’t. We’ll do what we can, but it isn’t always poss—”

“Nope,” Ned Marriner said. “Uh-uh. We’re getting her back, Uncle Dave. I’m getting her back.” He hung up.