Laurel was now slathering salve on my bruised back, having already attended to my wrists and ankles. Wyln stood next to him, with a cup of the same vile tea as I had on the ship in his hand. An entire teapot of it rested on a lit brazier. By the looks on either of their faces, there was no escaping it.
“He was a master mage,” the Fyrst said, picking up where Suiden had left off, “who had given himself over to the dark arts. However well it turned out, it was not wise to go after him by yourself, Two Trees’son.”
“Apparently Rabbit thinks he’s invincible because he has magical powers, Your Grace,” Javes said.
“Nay,” Uncle Havram said. “All lads his age think they’re immortal, and are stupid with it.”
“Indeed, that’s true,” Esclaur said, his splinted arm in a sling.
My da said nothing, but glancing up I could see the lines on his face had deepened as he watched Laurel tend to my bruises. He laid a gentle hand on my head. “Are you all right, Rab?”
“Yes, Da,” I said. In spite of myself—and Suiden—I started to smile at my childhood name, but winced as Laurel found a tender spot.
“Sticklebutt heedless,” Suiden started again. “Sheep-biting, bucket-head, pox-witless, cow-baiting, dead-fish, numb-arse, gape-seed stupid, Lieutenant.”
Jeff and my other troop mates standing at a window watched wide-eyed, while Groskin’s lips moved as he committed the captain’s invective to memory. Ryson, though, was trying to play least in sight. It didn’t work, as he’d mildewed again and Suiden was able to find him by smell.
“And you, trooper. What the pox-rotted hell were you thinking of?”
Ryson slid a look at Laurel, then down at his feet. “That if I caught Slevoic it’d show that I wasn’t, uh, his anymore and then maybe everyone would talk to me again, sir.”
Suiden gave Laurel a narrowed glare. “Been spreading goodness and light through my men, Sro Cat?”
Laurel finished, draped a towel over my shoulders and helped me sit up. (I was thankful I’d been allowed to put trousers on.) “I’m a Faena, no? It’s what I do. Bringing balance and so forth.”
“Balance,” I repeated, spreading my hand and tracing the rune, feeling it warm under my fingertip. “I lifted the rune against both Kareste and Slevoic, Laurel, but nothing happened.” My mouth twisted. “Slevoic said he liked what he was.”
My da’s hand slid to my shoulder and tightened.
Laurel sighed, wiping the salve off of his paws. “There are those who have so seared their conscience—usually through some fatal flaw, such as the Magus’ lust for power or the Vicious One’s pleasure in others’ pain—that lifting the rune against them would be like trying to drown a fish.”
“But didn’t you lift it at Kareste?” I asked, tracing the rune again. “Before, in the hall, when we were fighting?” The rune grew warmer and started to glow. My father stared at my hand.
“No,” Laurel said. “As I’ve told you, Rabbit, you’re not the only one to chew the mentha leaves. My battle with Kareste was with the talent.” His whiskers swept back to show his fangs. “Kareste used my staff to work abominations, and so I came against him as one of the Earth, in the name of the Lady Gaia. And as one master against another.” Laurel walked over to where his staff leaned against the wall, next to mine. “Honor never taught you to read a staff?”
“Read a staff?”
“What the feathers, cloth strips and beads mean, Rabbit,” Laurel said as he picked his staff up and hefted it a couple of times, making everything flutter and clack. “The fact that it’s carved.”
I stared at the cat for a moment; then my mouth fell open. “They sent the head of the Faena to come get me?”
“Never send a novice to do a master’s job.” Laurel brought the staff down again. “What you should be asking yourself, though, is whose staff do you have?” I stared at my plain staff made of ash wood and felt the hair rise on the back of my neck.
“What did you see, Rabbit?” Laurel asked, and our audience leaned in to listen.
“It came up out of the ground,” I said, my voice faint. “I was plowing a field and it rose before me, a fruit hanging upon it.”
“The earth sphere?” Wyln asked.
“Yes, honored Cyhn.”
“So mystical,” Wyln said. “Not like fire at all.”
“The Lady has shown her acceptance of Rabbit,” Laurel said, and a murmur swept through the courtyard.
I pushed down the thought of Doyen Allwyn’s and Brother Paedrig’s reaction to that. “Is it Honor’s?” I asked, my voice hushed.
“Yes,” Laurel said. “It must have given the Magus a shock to see you with it.” His whiskers swept back again. “A very big shock.”
“I bet,” Uncle Havram murmured.
“But I thought everybody got their own,” Javes said, aiming his quiz glass at the staff. “Didn’t you say you were Gifted with yours during some ceremony?”
“Usually that’s true,” Laurel said, putting his own staff back against the wall. “Every once in a while, though, a staff is passed on. Just like every great once in a while, someone has more than one aspect.” He watched me closely. “You’ve worked earth before, no? In the embassy in Iversly when everyone translated for the first time.”
Groskin, Jeff, and the rest looked at me. Hard.
“Yes,” Javes answered for me. “Contrary to what you said at the time.”
Laurel sighed. “I have the truth, honored captain, but not the whole truth. No one could contain that and live. I just knew that I hadn’t, and I didn’t think Rabbit could, so I reckoned that the Lady herself took a part. As she has been known to do.” His eyes returned to me. “And as my rune didn’t burn, perhaps she did.”
“Perhaps,” Suiden said, uninterested. He returned to what was important, pinning his glare back on me. “But I don’t care if the heavens come down and declare your glory, you will not go off by yourself again, Lieutenant. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I said, do you understand, Lieutenant.”
“Sir, yes, sir!”
“Good,” Suiden said. He started to lean back against a table, folding his arms across his chest, but Javes cleared his throat. Suiden shot a look at the vice admiral and then the Fyrst and straightened quick.
A faint smile passed over the Fyrst’s face as he looked at me. “I found it very interesting to see you disappear in the rainstorm, Two Trees’son. That is a master’s ruse.”
“It was also very familiar, Your Grace,” Suiden said, his green eyes glowing once more.
So it was.
“But not just you being lost on the mountain, what?” Javes now aimed his quiz glass at me. “The lieutenant is known for hiding in plain sight.”
“That’s right, sir,” Jeff said, also staring at me. “Everybody talks about how he stood right in front of Slevoic and the Vicious didn’t see him until it was too late for him to do anything.”
“Sliding through the gates at Veldecke,” Groskin said, “and no one stopping you.” He considered me. “It’s also probably how you got away from the convoy leader and her grog guard.”
Probably so.
“Even others—the harbormaster slipping away from the commander without being seen,” Javes said.