It would be his first time out of Skygrip.
Seventeen
Visitations
The bolt flew true into the red centre of the target. In the dream, Losara watched his counterpart, that which he had been separated from …or was it the other way around? Losara didn’t know how to think of Bel. He certainly wasn’t a brother. He was an other. Another side of himself that Losara had never known. Bel seemed so different, but perhaps that was to be expected. Two sides to the coin? A coin cut in half, right down the middle. No wonder Losara sometimes felt so thin.
He tried to picture himself as he would have been whole, warrior and mage meshed together, and found it difficult. Instead, he decided to learn about what was real, and drifted closer. Bel was excited and impatient about the adventure ahead. Losara himself was to sail away across the Black Sea, to see if he could find Assedrynn’s Isle. That would be an adventure too, he knew, but he couldn’t help thinking his excitement was different. He felt the beckoning of the unknown, of the testing he’d experience, of the expansion of his knowledge. Bel had a louder, thrill-seeking reaction. It was purer, more extroverted, more consuming. It existed for its own sake, for the joy of it.
Another bolt flew, but before it hit the target the dream swirled. Losara found himself drifting through the throne room. Battu paced before the long window, frustrated, ranting to Tyrellan. ‘When?’ he demanded, spinning around. ‘When will he emerge?’
‘Your spies are no help?’ asked Tyrellan.
‘NO!’ shouted Battu. ‘It’s impossible to get a bug-eye across the ward stones, and almost as difficult for the others. The High Mage maintains an admirable defence.’ He turned to the window, glowering across Fenvarrow as though he could see the distant Halls. ‘As for my operatives born of light, well …let me just say I hope you’re keeping traitors out of Skygrip as effectively as they do it in the Halls. I have to rely on the shadowdream alone, and it shows me little of what I need to see!’ This last he spat south, as if he were blaming the Dark Gods themselves. ‘I have no idea how many pork pies the soldiers of the Halls eat each day. No idea! The average rate of pie consumption is highly guarded information!’
‘Perhaps Corinas has told his superiors about Iassia?’ said Tyrellan.
‘No,’ said Battu. ‘The bird has bound him to silence. And if that bind was somehow undone, Iassia would know. No, Corlas is hiding. Coward! Does he plan to wait forever?’
The dream swirled again, and now he was in a tavern in Kainordas. The door opened and Bel approached the bar. ‘I’m looking for a young lady,’ he told the barman. ‘Jaya, she was drinking here the other day.’
‘I’m afraid I don’t know anyone by that name,’ the barman said, too quickly. Bel stared hard at him, making him falter. His hand went to his side and the barman quivered, but Bel was only reaching for a letter.
‘All right,’ he said. ‘Well, I’m not supposed to meet her here tonight, so when you don’t see her arrive, I’m sure it won’t be difficult not to give her this letter. Okay?’
Swirl.
A beautiful girl with blazing red hair stood in a room with the letter in her hands. On the bed sat an older woman with black hair and dark eyes. ‘So what does it say?’ she asked.
‘It says he’s being sent to fight huggers in Drel Forest, but he shouldn’t be away long. I guess he wanted to tell me he’s not disappearing.’
‘You’re a fool, Jaya. The man is a peacekeeper.’
Jaya remained silent.
‘Not exactly our kind of person.’
‘He’s a Sprite, Lerena. That’s exactly my type of person.’
‘Well, it hardly matters,’ said Lerena. ‘Tomorrow we leave Kadass. The road to Ismore is ripe with wagons.’
‘Yes,’ said Jaya. ‘But he writes that I could meet him tonight at …’
‘Where?’
‘The barracks.’
‘You would place us all in danger with such selfishness?’
‘No,’ said Jaya sadly.
So , thought Losara, my other has a woman. Is that what the dream shows?
Losara closed the door to the roof and produced a key from his robes. He had been told, of course, to return the key to Battu as soon as he was finished in the Breath. Placing it in the palm of one hand, he held the other above it. Darkness oozed from his sleeve to take on shape, forming an exact replica of the key. Losara smiled, and used the shadow key to lock the door. While he would not go against Battu’s wishes, it was nice to know he could if he wished.
Reflecting on what he’d seen, he couldn’t decide if the shadow had sent him a message or if the visions came simply at the whim of the dream. A part of him knew he should feel outraged that Battu was using his father in a plot involving his other self. His own coldness disturbed him. Where was his anger? Did he possess no passion? Deciding that he needed to think, he made for one of Skygrip’s balconies.
The passages were quiet this close to dawn. Losara heard a couple of patrols tramping about, but didn’t cross their path. He came to a passage where the air blew cold and fresh, and followed it out onto a stone balcony. Not far away someone was leaning against the wall, looking out into the night. It was the Mire Pixie, Lalenda. This time he could see her face clearly, her black tangle of hair swept back by the breeze. Long lashes curved from her cobalt eyes, and her mouth was downturned at the ends, as if the expression had etched its way into permanence there. Her lips were a darker brown than the muddy colour of her skin, as were her fingernails and the toes of her bare feet. Though she stood shorter, she had the proportions of a young human woman. There was a crystal shine to her cheek where a stream of tears had begun to dry. She was the saddest and most beautiful thing Losara had ever seen.
Without thinking, he stepped from the shadows. ‘Hello,’ he said, and she spun with a yelp of surprise. ‘Please,’ he said, raising his hands, ‘don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you.’
She stooped to curtsy, her hair falling over her face again. ‘Master Losara,’ she said, shaking. She was terrified, that was plain. Losara walked forward to rest his hands on the balcony wall, looking out over the dark expanse. Lalenda remained bowed, her eyes cast downwards.
‘Please stop that,’ he said softly. ‘I’m only here to look upon the night, and I saw that you were doing the same. I thought perhaps we could both do with …company. Will you not come back to the wall, as you were before?’
‘As my master commands,’ said Lalenda.
Lalenda hardly heard what he was saying, so scared was she of Battu’s Apprentice. When he’d come across her in the library, she’d considered it a grave misfortune. Now she feared she’d displeased him with her hasty escape and he’d tracked her down to punish her for her insubordination.
‘It wasn’t a command,’ he said. ‘Will you not look at me, Lalenda?’
She forced her head up and found herself transfixed by his dark stare. She was exposed, helpless, a mouse before a cat.
‘It wasn’t a command,’ he repeated. ‘It was a request. I’m asking if you’ll stay a while.’
She was confused, but she couldn’t do anything about it. She would simply have to obey, as ever. ‘Yes, master.’
Losara gave a little sigh. ‘You’re free to go, if you want. I wouldn’t keep you here against your will. On the balcony, I mean. I know you can’t leave the castle.’
Her gaze faltered.
‘Go, then,’ he said, turning away. ‘If I am so truly terrible.’
Despite her fear, Lalenda noticed his odd tone. He sounded offended, or, even more inexplicably, pained. She saw a sadness in his ivory face and for a moment was dumbfounded by it. Then she wondered if it was a trick. Battu could feign all kinds of moods, so why wouldn’t his Apprentice be the same? One thing she did understand clearly, however: she would displease him if she left. Warily she said, ‘I will stay, if it pleases my master.’