Carol Berg - THE SOUL WEAVER

“He’s the sorcerer you told of, the ruler of this other place who has the power to travel between?”

“Yes.”

She turned sharply, her blue cloak swirling in the lamplight. “Perhaps he’s the one who causes all this! Perhaps he’s not as benevolent as you think.”

“Your Majesty, you have honored me with your trust” - indeed her secrets were worth her life and her daughter’s, as well as Evard’s - “and I ask you to extend it a little further. Prince D’Natheil is the most worthy of allies, bearing a deep love for this world and those who dwell here. For a thousand years, his family and his people have borne the burden of our survival as well as their own. Their Bridge is designed to balance the worlds, to restore them, to heal the evils their kind have caused.”

“How do you know? Perhaps he deceives you with his magics.”

I sighed and prayed I was not acting the fool. “Because he is my husband, lady, and he would do nothing to bring my people harm.”

“Ah.” She relaxed her shoulders as if I’d finally told her something that was clear. “Tell me more of these people and their war. Clearly there are things you didn’t mention to the king.”

“Indeed it’s a very long story, Your Majesty. Too long for tonight. I need to go.” I was anxious to talk to Radele. Surely he had some way to contact someone in Avonar. Karon had to know what was happening.

“Before you go, you need to know of one more complication.” The pain on her face and the slight tremor in her voice signaled the first breach in her composure.

“My daughter reported seeing a cloaked man in my husband’s chambers when she first entered. We found no one there; it was impossible, as I’ve told you. I gave her report little credence. Over the past years my daughter has reported a threatening man in her apartments a number of times, but we’ve considered her stories merely a girl’s prattling. Last night I scolded her for continuing such foolery when her father was so ill. After we carried the king to a private chamber, my daughter locked herself into Evard’s rooms, vowing to prove me wrong. Today… she is nowhere to be found. What if these monsters have attacked us yet again?”

“Ah, my lady, surely she is just angry with you. Playing a cruel prank.”

“I pray that’s so. But you must understand how precious is that which I entrust to you and your prince. Roxanne is so young… ”

“I’ll do whatever I can, Your Majesty. I promise.”

She lifted her chin, no further slip betraying her emotions. “Have you need of funds? Men? Weapons?”

“Not yet. I can’t say what might be needed in the future.” Her honesty compelled me to add more. “My lady, I’ll not insult you by pretending feeling for Evard. The simplest reason declares that to be impossible. But I honor the crown he wears, and I would see it safe until a better man wears it. And I do not avenge myself on children.”

“Your frankness serves you well, Seriana.” She gave me her cold, pale hand, drew me close, and kissed me on each cheek. As we parted, she dropped a small brooch into my hand, an opal encased in gold filigree, fashioned in the design of an owl - the symbol of Valleor. “If you should have need of me, this will gain you or your messenger instant admittance to my presence. Good night.” She picked up her lamp, and hurried down the bridge and the path. The light-beams danced among the shadows.

“Good night, Your Majesty.”

The bridge parapet was still warm from the queen’s lantern. I sat sideways on the wall, knees drawn up under my gown, eyes growing accustomed to the thick darkness. Though anxious to get back to Gerick and away from this haunted place, I needed to make sure no one lurked nearby, waiting to follow me back to him. Martin had always said that love and honor among royalty was very like their bread, described by the same words, but usually of a very different flavor from that found among the common run of people. Besides, I had a great deal to consider. Somehow I had to convince my husband to aid the man who had burned him to death. Even Karon’s generous spirit might not stretch that far.

All seemed secure. No incongruous shape appeared among the shadows of flora gone wild. No untoward sound intruded on the rustlings of the wind and the occasional hoot of an owl. After perhaps a quarter of an hour, I swung my feet to the ground. As I left the bridge and started up the long path to the road and the gatehouse, I heard footsteps on the gravel path. Enchantment stung my skin like a shower of ice crystals.

“Where is he, Seri?” said a low voice behind my shoulder.

I spun on my heel, thrilled and delighted, certain that the vehemence of my wishing in the last hours had drawn him across D’Arnath’s Bridge to help me solve Leire’s great mystery. But news and greetings died upon my lips when I saw his face and felt the grip on my arm. “Karon, what is it?”

“Where is the boy?” he said. His fingers came near cracking my bones. “Tell me where the deceiver lurks, in what web he hangs waiting to dispense more of his poison. Oh, it was a fine performance. No thespian in any world could fault him. Now the actor is unmasked… but at such cost… ”

“Earth and sky, Karon, what’s happened? Is it Gerick?”

“He is not Gerick!” His lips curled in disgust. “Give him the name of his own choosing: Dieste the Fourth Lord, the Destroyer. No name has ever been more apt.” The night darkened with his anger. His hand quivered, and his eyes sparked gold and blue like a blacksmith’s forge. “Tell me where he is.”

I wrenched my arm from his grasp and stepped backward, moving into the path between him and the gatehouse. “What makes you say such things?”

“The boy is not what you think, Seri. Not what I thought. My healing… your nurturing… our worry and hope and love… all wasted. He remains as he was in Zhev’Na. But tonight he stands within range of my sword, and I must and will destroy him before he can compound his evil.”

“Karon, tell me what you’re talking about.” Panic left my voice ragged, my veins hollow. “Gerick has scarcely been out of my sight for four years. There is no deceit in him. What do you think he’s done?”

“Murder, Seri. Torture and betrayal done at his word as surely as if the bloody implements were yet in his hand. Only six knew of Jayereth’s work. Now she lies dead, her promise, her brilliance, drowned in agony so terrible I cannot think on it. Only six knew of Marcus, Nemyra, and T’Sero and their mission in Zhev’Na, but two days after Jayereth was destroyed, their corpses were returned to Avonar… defiled.” His voice shook. “And the Circle, Avonar’s noblest, most skilled men and women, each one leaving home, husband, wife, children to stand vigil on the borders of the Wastes, awaiting my command, every one of them attacked that same day. No more than fifteen out of two hundred survived. All our preparation… four long years and we were ready to begin, and now it’s all gone, and we’ve no time to start again. Need I tell more? Will you ask me how I can be sure? Must I show you his bloody works as they will ever remain burned into my soul?”

All Karon’s plans for healing the ravages done to his world and mine, all his hopes of rescuing the Dar’Nethi slaves from bondage, everything had been bound up in Jayereth and the Circle and the three who had once been Zhid. But why did he blame Gerick?

“There must be some other explanation. A spy. One of your Counselors suborned… Think! Gerick left Zhev’Na freely, saved our lives. Sword of Annadis defend us, Karon, you’ve linked with his mind repeatedly. How could he have deceived you?”

Karon gripped an outstretched alder bough as if it were the handle to his fury. “I didn’t want to believe it either,” he said, his rage cold and controlled now. “Of course I didn’t. I would sooner have believed that I myself had done it, than it be my son. But on the night I last came to Verdillon, I spoke to the boy alone. He was the fifth I spoke to that day. Each one of the five I told a secret, unknown to anyone but myself, each secret a prize the Lords could not refuse. All false, of course, but of such a nature that I would know if any betrayal was done.”