It was as though a void had opened beneath the young physician’s feet—as though nothing in his world would be solid or secure again. “I didn’t know,” Cygnus whispered. “Master, I didn’t dare share my doubts with you. You were so reluctant to accept me at first ... I didn’t know you’d understand ...”
Cygnus dropped to his knees at her feet, and held out his dagger in a shaking hand. “Master, I’ve been an utter fool, and far worse than that.” His voice sounded cracked and distant to his ears. “Take my life, I beg you, for nothing less will serve as restitution for my wrongs, or wash the stain of evil from my spirit.” Closing his eyes and breathing deeply, he waited for his mentor to take the dagger and end his wretched existence.
“Oh no, my boy—that’s very dramatic, but it isn’t good enough!” At the sound of Elster’s humorless chuckle, the young physician’s eyes flew open in shock. Elster plucked the dagger from his limp hand, and with a flick of her wrist, sent it flying out of the window, “Death is too easy a way out—you can damn well live on and suffer, and take responsibility for your deeds like the rest of us!”
Shaking her head, Elster looked sternly down at her gaping pupil. “A whole lifetime won’t be long enough for you to make amends to this poor girl, so you had better start at once!” Pulling a resisting Cygnus to his feet, she looked deep into his eyes, “That is, supposing you truly wish to make restitution for what you have done.” Her expression hardened, “Cygnus, if you still feel any remaining shred of loyalty toward the High Priest after his deeds this day, then you should stay away from the Queen in future—as far away as possible, I recognize poison when I see it, boy, I know you were responsible for Queen Flamewing’s death, and I find intolerable the idea of that poor girl being attended by her mother’s murderer. That aside, if you still support Blacktalon after what he has done, then you are unfit to associate with any decent being, let alone the Queen of the Winged Folk.” Elster’s eyes burned fiercely. The young physician, writhing with shame, found himself unable to meet his mentor’s gaze, “I’m done with Blacktalon,” he vowed. “I’ll do whatever you feel is necessary to convince you of that,”
Elster looked at him gravely. “Brave words, boy—but can you put them into effect?” Her eyes glinted. “I want you to take care of Queen Raven. Be her constant companion, her comfort, her support. She won’t want to live, Cygnus—and so it will be up to you to convince her otherwise.”
Cygnus gasped. “I cannot! Elster, please, ask something else of me! What can I say to her? I cannot face her, with her mother’s blood on my hands!”
“Too bad.” Elster was inexorable. “The more difficult you find it to face her, the greater your chance of atonement. If you ever find the suffering too much for you, Cygnus, try putting yourself in her place.”
Her brutal words brought Cygnus up short. The chastened young physician bowed his head. “I’ll try, Elster, he whispered.
“Don’t try—do!” Elster told him brutally. “That girl’s life is in your hands, Cygnus—don’t make a mess of filings. You’ve done enough damage already.” She tempered her harsh words with the ghost of a smile for him. “If it’s any consolation, boy, I have faith in you.”
“I can’t think why.” Cygnus looked at Raven once more. He took a deep breath, and straightened his shoulders. “But I promise, Master, that I’ll do my best to be worthy of your confidence.”
“Thank Yinze—I have my pupil back!” Elster embraced the young physician. Though she grieved for his pain, she was somewhat reassured by his crisis of conscience. She had long been dismayed by his espousal of Blacktalon’s bizarre ambitions, and had been appalled when she had realized his part in the murder of the Queen. I ought to hate him, the Master thought—but her understanding of Skyfolk nature and the frailty of Skyfolk spirit had persuaded her that matters were not so simple. She was convinced that Cygnus had not fallen irredeemably into evil—and that being the case, if she could save him and bring back his proper sense of values, it was her duty to do so. The thought of all the future good he could do with his skills was enough to make the effort worthwhile—and besides, though she would die rather than admit it, she was fond of him.
Breaking the embrace, Elster held her pupil away from her at arm’s length. “Now, go and eat,” she told him, “and have something sent up here for me. And at all cost, stay away from Blacktalon until you can keep your feelings from your face. You’ve done good work tonight—but alas, there is no rest for the physician. Your other patient still awaits you, in the cave below.”
Cygnus gasped. “I had forgotten the sorcerer!”
“Hush, boy,” Elster cautioned him hastily. “Not so loud!”
“But Master, I forgot to tell you—” Cautiously, he lowered his voice. “I told Blacktalon his illness was beyond my skills—lest the High Priest should decide to kill you after you had seen what happened to the Queen!”
Elster gasped. “You were thinking of me?” She was astonished that it should mean so much to her. Sentimental old fool! she scolded herself. Pulling herself together, she turned her attention back to her pupil. “Is he, then?”
“Is he what?” Cygnus looked baffled.
“Beyond your not inconsiderable skills,. of course.”
“No—though for a time I thought otherwise! It was a fever, brought on no doubt by cold and privation—and much mishandling by the Temple Guards. For a time I despaired of his life, but he is safe now.” For the first time in that long, weary night, Cygnus allowed himself to grin.
Elster returned his smile. “Go and tend your patient, then. Afterward, get some rest, then come back here to sit with the Queen, and I will visit our mysterious prisoner.” Her eyebrow lifted. “Never having seen a human, let alone a sorcerer, I must confess to some curiosity. A sorcerer, from distant lands, with powers such as we cannot fathom ...” She shrugged. “Oh, never mind. Just remember what he is, and take due care. And for Yinze’s sake, boy,” she added in a whisper, “get him on our side!”
Cygnus nodded, made as. if to go—then he hesitated, looking down at the Queen. Grief and rage twisted in his guts like a knife. “Master. . . . Will she be all right?”
In that moment, Elster seemed to age so much that the young physician was sorry that he had spoken. “Her body? Yes, it will survive. Her mind? Yinze only knows what will become of that,”
14
Contest of Queens
As Shia picked her tortuous way from the Tower of Incondor, climbing up through the ever-rising chain of valleys that led into the heart of the mountains, the going became harder and harder as the snow grew deeper and the biting cold increased. It was a barren, menacing landscape, with its fanged and looming crags and bottomless, shadowed gorges through which the wind came shrieking like the death-wails of a thousand slaughtered cats.
At first, Shia sometimes found shelter in caves and crevices that afforded some protection from the merciless wind and its stinging burden of snow. She gladly stopped to rest in these havens, making the most of a welcome respite from her ceaseless battle with the mountains. Sometimes she found game—lean snow hares or ptarmigan, or a cragfast sheep or goat—to ease her relentless hunger. But as the cat went on, shelter became more scarce and the snow piled ever higher on the stony trails and ledges, slowing her to a snail’s pace, and making each step a greater torture. Shia’s neck and jaws ached from carrying the Staff of Earth. Its magic burned her, sending currents of prickling power swirling through her body to weaken her, and confuse her instinctive sense of direction. Her mouth, where her jaws clenched around the Staff, became a mass of blisters and sores, making it harder to hunt and to eat on the rare occasions when prey could be found. Food was scarce and hard to come by on this freezing roof of the world. Day by day, the great cat grew more gaunt and hollow-eyed, a shaggy black scarecrow all skin and bone. Lacking the energy even to think, she hauled herself upward step by step, dragging the Staff in locked and frozen jaws. At night she made snow nests to conserve her heat, but Shia never stopped shivering, wishing that Bohan and Anvar were curled up beside her, and that Aurian could hold her close to warm her body with her own.