She had a good idea now of how the Orders caught in the Path’s gems might be cleaned so she and Hennea could release them. They knew who the Shadowed was—and that he awaited them in Redern. Hinnum and Hennea, for all their arguing, were pretty sure they’d come up with a way to destroy the Shadowed, so Phoran could be free of his Memory. All they had to do was find a Lark, and Hennea knew of a young man who would be willing to come though it might take her a few months to find him.
“Seraph,” Tier said, as his clever fingers finished the song he’d been playing and began his between-song chord playing. “I feel better. Tell me you managed to do something more with the Shadow’s hold on me.”
She smiled at him. “Ravens are arrogant,” she told him. “When there is a problem, we tend to believe we are the only ones who can solve it.” She opened her palm, where she still held the remnants of the garnet. “You broke the spell yourself while you told the story of the Fall of the Unnamed King.”
“Huh.” He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Just the same, I think I’ll stick to more mundane music for the rest of the night.” His prosaic words didn’t cover the relief she saw in his eyes.
He picked a sweet ballad written by a young man to his love, who was supposed to wed another. It suited his range, and the song was soothing, the perfect foil for the press of fear the dead still raised.
She slid off the bench and made her way to Rinnie. On the way she glanced at the Memory, but without the spell that let her see spirit and other things, it looked just as it had when it had come into the library.
Rinnie was curled up asleep on Gura, who was still watching the dead Seraph could no longer see. But the dog didn’t look upset, just watchful. His alert pose mirrored the wolf settled comfortably next to Hennea. Seraph yawned and curled up on the floor next to Rinnie, found something soft and warm to lay her head upon, and let her eyes close while Tier’s music kept her safe from harm.
Phoran must have fallen asleep sometime not too much after Seraph had. He woke up to the smell of something wild and sweet, and opened his eyes to see Seraph’s hair and realized the light drumming he heard was her heartbeat. Hastily he straightened and took a quick glance around to see if anyone had noticed.
Not that waking up with somebody else’s wife was a unique experience for him, and this was much more innocent than those instances. But still, her husband and children were in the room.
Jes, a human Jes, stretched out on his side next to Hennea, gave him a friendly smile, and lifted his finger to his lips. He was the only other one awake.
“Did you stay up the whole night?” asked Phoran, in a near-voiceless whisper.
Jes nodded, though he looked none the worse for wear. Phoran lifted and shifted and wiggled and finally managed to untangle himself from Seraph. He got up and stretched out most of the kinks in his back.
Tier slept on the table, the lute resting on his middle. Phoran smiled, then realized that the pile of sleepers was short a few people. He remembered the Memory leaving after Tier’s incredible song. Ielian and Lehr must have awakened already. Hinnum, he decided, was none of his concern.
He waved at Jes and walked outside. By the angle of the sun, he could tell it was no later than midmorning. Who would have thought it, we survived the night.
“Morning,” said Lehr, who was leaning against the wall of the library next to the broken door. “I heard Ielian get up, but by the time I could make myself move he was gone.”
Phoran nodded. “Probably headed back to camp. He’ll be hot that he was the only one who tried to run.”
“Except the dog,” said Lehr.
Phoran grinned. “That fool dog wasn’t running; he was trying to attack.”
The others began stirring not long after. When everyone else was awake, Jes woke up his parents, and they all trudged back to camp.
Phoran hadn’t noticed it so much last night, but in the clear light of day, both of the Ravens looked drained, and Tier wasn’t much better. Seraph caught his concerned look and smiled at him.
“It’s all right, just too much magic yesterday and not enough sleep.”
“Two days here, and we’ve found almost everything we came here for,” he said. “Truthfully, I didn’t think we’d find anything after Shadow’s Fall. Not Colossae, not Hinnum, not the identity of the Shadowed.”
She smiled, and her whole face lit up—he’d never seen her smile like that. For a moment she was beautiful.
“To tell you the truth, Phoran,” she said, “there were times I didn’t think we would either.”
“Thank you for talking to Mother, Phoran,” Rinnie said, one hand on Gura’s back and the other in his.
“Anytime,” he told her.
They’d left camp a little earlier than Seraph had planned, but Hennea had come up to him after breakfast to see if he would mind going earlier.
“Tier, Seraph, and Jes all need more sleep,” she’d told him. “They won’t get it with everyone up and about.”
So he’d gathered everyone else, including Rinnie and Gura, and set off for the Owl goddess’s temple. Ielian, who’d been in camp when they arrived from the library, had managed to work out whatever embarrassment or anger he felt over his behavior the night before. He suggested they pack a lunch and do a little exploring since they had some time to do it.
Lehr had the city map memorized already, and Phoran decided that if they all survived—and, at the moment, it looked as though they might—he wanted to get Lehr to map out the palace in Taela. Maybe Lehr could find his way to the southwest tower that no one had been in for at least thirty years because no one knew how to get to it.
Since they had all spent yesterday exploring in the University District, they just walked straight through and found their way down the ramp into the lower city.
“This is interesting,” said Rinnie.
Phoran had to agree. They’d wandered through the Merchant’s District for an hour or so and encountered mostly houses, closed up and impossible to enter. But the street they’d been following as it wandered along the bottom of the cliffs that divided the city had taken a sudden turn and dumped them into the middle of a market square, just as Lehr had promised.
“I’d sure like to get Lehr to Taela and watch him run a maze,” said Ielian slapping Lehr on the back. “I’d make a few golds on you, I’ll bet.”
The market was paved with tiles rather than cobbles. Bright colors designed to raise a person’s spirits, Phoran thought, judging from his own reaction. Once, he supposed, the whole empty expanse had been covered in stalls and tents where food and goods were sold. They would have been put away for the night, he thought, or perhaps the day Colossae had died had not been a marketing day.
“I’ve won a few bets in mazes,” Toarsen was saying. “Though this isn’t quite as interesting as the last thing I found in the middle of a maze.”
“What was that?” asked Rinnie innocently.
Toarsen’s smile dropped from his face. He cleared his throat. “A fountain. Uhm. With birds.”
The most famous maze in Taela—at least among the young noblemen—was the one at the White Bird, a whorehouse that catered to the rich and bored. They held orgies in the largest of the parks inside the maze, but you could make assignations in the more secluded places, too. Phoran had done both a time or two.
“I’ve never seen a maze,” said Rinnie, wistfully.
“Come to Taela, Rinnie, and I’ll take you to some mazes.” Not the White Bird. “If Lehr wants to come to Taela, I’ll hire him to explore the palace for me—now that is a maze.”
“I’ve been through enough mazes,” said Kissel. “Last one I had to cut through trees to get out.”