„You and me, I guess. Maybe I can do something to reach the boy inside this Deliverer. Come on. I'll have to explain to Gjerdrum and Derel so they can cover my ass while I'm gone."
Mist's fright had lessened. She looked at him appraisingly. „In more ways than one, no doubt."
„Eh?"
„Why do I have a feeling my children are sudden hos tages, just in case this is a scheme to separate you from your base of safety?"
„Because you're a practical woman familiar with the way politics work. You're my friend, but what does that have to do with the course of kingdoms and empires?"
„It could be a nicer world."
„Derel and I have been trying. Nobody wants one. Unless they are in charge."
„Josiah, I asked you to lay low. You'll get us all hung, coming here."
„My Lady, this was too important to ignore." He told her of the confrontation in the library. „So now he's going off to Shinsan to confront this Deliverer personally. They're with Prataxis now. You needed to know."
„Maybe. Probably. Thank you. Now get back to your post before you're missed."
Gales bowed slightly, departed. He could not conceal his injured feelings.
Inger was scared. This looked like a gods-given opportunity. ... It was too soon after the victory in the Thing. That wound had not scabbed yet.
She paced, trying to balance risk against gain. „Damn it! All right! You can't win if you don't play." She seized a cloak, pulled it tight around her, concealed her hair and face inside its hood. She slipped out unnoticed by her servants, hurried toward Nepanthe's apartment.
Varthlokkur eased into his quarters. He lighted a candle, sat, tried to continue his research. The calligraphy kept slipping out of focus. It had been an hour since the scene with Bragi and Mist. He remained shaky, and a little embarrassed, a little ashamed. And a whole lot torn. Part of him insisted they had been right. That he was being foolishly selfish.
A shadow fell across his lap. „Nepanthe! How come you're out of bed?" Fear hit hard. She had dressed herself for travel. She had the baby bundled. „Oh, no," he mur mured. „Why?"
„You lied to me, Varth. Ethrian is alive. He's at a place called Lioantung, in Shinsan. And something has been done to hurt him. Mist was here today about him. I'm going with her when she goes back."
She had her stubborn face on. The wizard knew there would be no dissuading her.
„Did they tell you what your son is now?"
„Did who tell me? What?"
„Ragnarson and that Shinsaner witch."
„I haven't seen either of them. What have they got to do with it?" Anger fed anger. „You can come or stay as you please. But don't try stopping me."
„All right! We'll go!" Varthlokkur shouted. There was an hysterical edge to his voice. „Bragi, you cut your own damned throat. I'll sit back and laugh when the wolves pull you down."
Mist's shoulders slumped. Her beauty seemed to have deserted her. „It seemed the best hope, confronting him with his mother. He's still a child. The shock of having her see him the way he is. ... I thought it might bring him out of it."
Ragnarson grunted. He ran a whetstone along the edge of his sword. „Maybe. And maybe if he's got the big hate on for me I can do it my own way. What happens if I kill him? Will he rise up again, too?"
„I don't know." She tinkered with the portal she was preparing. „Five minutes."
Ragnarson grunted again. Outwardly, he was calm, a soldier about to enter battle for the thousandth time. Inside, he was in turmoil. Self-doubt raged. He was not sure he could do the necessary if the Deliverer could not be shocked out of his madness. Guilt about having slain the father still nagged him. Could he strike the son? Especially when the threat was less immediate and apparent?
Mist still had some convincing to do.
„Look."
He looked. He saw Varthlokkur and Nepanthe approach ing. The woman was determined. Varthlokkur moved jerki ly, like a marionette, lost within himself, face angry stone.
Nepanthe said, „We're going with you." The wizard said nothing at all. To him they did not exist.
„Just in time," Mist replied. „The gateway will open in a minute."
Bragi tried cracking a joke. Mist looked at him oddly. Nepanthe and Varthlokkur kept their eyes fixed on the portal. Bragi tried again. He could not get a smile. Not even from himself. „The hell with you all, then."
Nepanthe twitched. Varthlokkur did not respond that much.
„Time," Mist said. „I'll go first. You second, Nepanthe. Then Bragi and Varthlokkur and that." The Unborn had drifted into the room, its infant face alert and diabolic. Mist stepped forward and disappeared.
Ragnarson paced. Was this some grand trap meant to eliminate himself and Varthlokkur, Shinsan's dearest foes?
Nepanthe tightened her grip on Smyrena and stepped into the portal. Fighting butterflies, Bragi pocketed his whetstone, raised his sword, and stepped up to the mark. I'll charge through, he thought. They won't expect that.
He jumped.
Mist and a single Tervola waited on the far side. Ragnarson flew across the room, tripped over rubble, plunged headlong. His sword slipped out of his hand. He scrambled after it, conscious of stares, feeling sheepish. „Better safe than sorry."
Mist smiled and shook her head. The Tervola's face was concealed behind his mask, but his stance betrayed patro nizing amusement.
Varthlokkur came through the gateway. He looked around intently but said nothing. He joined Nepanthe. The Unborn popped through seconds behind him.
The Tervola nearly jumped out of his boots. Bragi chuck led. Mist said, „Easy now. It's all right." The Tervola had his fingers up twisting the initial gestures of a spell. „Take us to Lord Ssu-ma."
Bragi walked through the city in a state approaching shock. Lioantung, Mist called it. Dead Lioantung, he thought. Never had he seen such destruction. Fire had gutted everything. In some places brick and stone had burned, or melted like candle wax. The remains were strewn as if by an earthquake. Bones and fragments of corrupt flesh were thoroughly mixed with the rubble. The stench was overwhelming. Twice their guide used a minor spell to destroy particularly noxious clouds of flies.
„About time somebody used the Power for something practical," Bragi joked. Mist looked at him askance. He muttered, „Gods, this place is depressing. What the hell happened?"
„Ethrian happened, that's what. Varthlokkur. Do you believe me now?"
The wizard ignored Mist.
„What's that?" Bragi asked, indicating a pillar of smoke to the south.
„The legions burning their dead so Ethrian can't use them against us. Come on. We have to hurry."
The meeting with Eastern Army's staff was exactly what Ragnarson expected. The Tervola nearly exploded when they learned who he was. Only the calming presence of the army commander, a Lord Ssu-ma Shih-ka'i, kept their fury leashed.
Bragi responded positively to Shih-ka'i. The man didn't belong with the usual run of Tervola. Short and wide where they were lean and tall, he had a mischievous sense of humor. His mask represented an enraged boar. Mist said he sprang from peasant pig farmer stock. „Tell him he looks like an honest soldier," Bragi told Mist.
She translated. Shih-ka'i responded. Mist said, „He says you'd find him more stubborn than Lord Ko Feng." The woman and army commander engaged in a long exchange which betrayed occasional flashes of heat. Bragi guessed Shih-ka'i was dubious about her plan to bring Ethrian face to face with his mother. Mist apparently convinced him. Shih-ka'i led them back into the tortured streets.
Bragi watched Nepanthe closely. She drifted through the ruins with gaze firmly fixed, her face pallid. But near Lioantung's north gate she got the shakes. She paused to retch into the gutter. When Varthlokkur tried to comfort her, she waved him off. „I can stand it. I always could. I'm a real grown up person."