“Damn him forever.” She poked the fire with her staff so that a sparkling swirl of flames soared up the chimney.
“So he forgot you in his moment of triumph, didn’t he?”
The old woman looked back at Garth as if he had spoken too much, bringing into words the humiliation of her heart.
“I helped him, you know, I helped him down through so many long years.” She pointed to the bookcases and the piles of dusty scrolls. “It was I who learned the paths and the spells, and the incantations to bridge the planes.”
“So why don’t you go yourself?”
“The mana. It is the mana which gives one the power to control magic in this plane. It is the mana as well which has the power to open the doorway into other realms when one knows the hidden path. I knew the path, but it was he who controlled the mana.
“He tricked me. On the Night of Fire he betrayed me as well.”
“The Night of Fire?”
“When Zarel stormed the House of Turquoise, murdering their Master and stealing their trove of mana. I was betrayed as well.”
Garth said nothing, his features calm.
“That means something to you, doesn’t it?’ “I heard the stories,” Garth replied.
Kirlen smiled.
“Yes, I helped him. I agreed not to object, not to rally to the side of Turquoise in return for the door to be opened for me as well.
“The following morning he was gone and Zarel was the new Grand Master.”
“Why did he betray you?”
Kirlen laughed coldly.
“Why not? The gateway to limitless worlds was now open. And with it the power to take anything he desired. Even now he strides the universe, conquering, stealing, pleasuring himself. What need had he of an old hag whom he had once loved when they were both young. He can have anyone now and love is nothing but a hindrance.”
She looked back into the fire.
“I learned that long ago, One-eye.” She turned and looked over at him and then hobbled across the floor, drawing closer so that her fetid breath washed over Garth.
“This is the final face of love,” she hissed. “This is the final face of loyalty, of honor, of glory, of vengeance, of all that is living. It is this,” she said, and, laughing, she pointed to her sagging folds of flesh, yellowed hair, and toothless mouth.
“So why the sudden loyalty to me?” Garth whispered in reply.
Kirlen drew back and laughed.
“You humiliated him. Even now Zarel trembles. Perhaps he fears for his power and his life. For that I thank you.”
Garth bowed low, struggling to keep his balance and to keep his mind focused, for there was more. He could sense there was far more.
“You’re of the House of Oor-tael, aren’t you?”
He looked back up and could feel the power radiating around her, coiling outward, fingers of light probing toward him. He tried to force an inner calm as she reached into him.
He could feel her eyes probing into him and he was startled by the power of it, for she was almost as strong as the Grand Master. He felt a lash of rage as her probing slowed and then finally stopped, unable to reach into the very core.
“You’re strong, One-eye.”
Garth said nothing, not daring to lower his guard.
“I think you are strong enough that if I tried to challenge you to a fight, you could actually harm me.”
Again he was silent. Her thoughts withdrew and he struggled not to sag down from exhaustion and drunkenness. He realized now that Naru’s actions were at her behest, to keep him awake after all that had happened and break him down with drink and simple exhaustion.
He looked at her and smiled.
“I can be of use to you,” he said softly.
“I should kill you now.”
“You know the mob is behind me. The Grand Master might hold power as a holder of mana but not even that power can control half a million who will be sitting in the arena come tomorrow. I am of Brown as well and that power reflects upon you. That can be of use to you.”
She smiled, her lips trembling.
“And suppose you are of Turquoise? You would have reason enough for vengeance upon me given what I just told you.”
“If I wanted such vengeance, I could do it now.” He flicked a finger toward the bookcases.
A startled cry escaped her and she started to bring her hand up.
“I would be a fool to burn them, for then we would fight here and now,” Garth said, lowering his hand and looking back at her.
She looked back nervously at her books and then again at Garth.
“You have the knowledge hidden within your books. But your path now is through the Grand Master because it is he who has amassed the mana and I suspect will soon have enough to try himself to become a Walker. Kill him and you could succeed to his throne and take all that is hidden within his vaults.
“That is your next step. Do that and the Walker does not care who rules here, only that they are loyal to him and serve his needs.”
“He would know what I desire.”
“Don’t you think he knows what Zarel desires as well, what all of us desire?”
She said nothing.
“Power, immortality, and eternal youth, which only being a Walker can bring. Kill Zarel at the end of Festival and you will have a year to prepare before the Walker returns once again. I dare say that within that year you could gather enough mana to do as you please.”
“How?”
“Zarel did it for his Master.”
Kirlen chuckled darkly.
“You’re goading me not only into killing Zarel, but the other House Masters as well.”
Garth smiled and said nothing.
“Why do you desire to help me?”
“Perhaps you could grant a one-eye immortality as well when the time came.”
“Perhaps I would not need a scarred face when that time came.”
“I’m willing to gamble on that. At the very least there would be room for advancement, perhaps as a House Master or Grand Master myself.”
Kirlen chuckled.
“Revenge and power. I think I might like you after all, One-eye.”
She turned and looked back at the fire.
“You’ve given me nothing all that new. I’ve thought it before. If that is all you have to offer, your usefulness is at and end.”
“I can help you. I could trigger the mob to bring about the Grand Master’s death.”
Kirlen smiled.
“And suppose you win the tournament. You would be gone, to go as a servant to the Walker in other realms. Then what?”
“Do I really want to win?”
“All fighters do.”
“Then why haven’t you done so and thus gained the path in that manner?”
Kirlen laughed coldly.
“I prefer to go in my own right and not as a servant,” she finally said softly.
“If I win, I win and will take the glory. But even in the process of doing that I can manipulate the mob to your favor and perhaps trigger the results you desire. Because that is the final part of the problem. The power of the mana is strong, but when half a million of the city turn against you, even a Grand Master might be overwhelmed. To have the mob on your side is worth the power of a hundred fighters. And if I don’t win, I will still be here to serve you.”
“Of course you will,” Kirlen said with a smile.
“Master.”
Garth opened his eyes with the greatest reluctance. It took several seconds to realize that the room was not actually spinning. The sight of Hammen looking down at him finished it, especially when the old man’s breath washed over him. He half crawled out of bed and staggered to the privy room, ignoring Hammen’s coarse laughter as he knelt over the hole to offer up his last meal to the god of excessive drink.
Cursing and spitting, he came back into the room.
“I’ve laid out a change of clothes, oh exalted Master,” Hammen announced. “I’d suggest burning what you’re wearing now.”
“Shut up.”
“Such gratitude.”
Garth looked at him, bleary-eyed.
“How come you’re not hung over?”