The halfling saw their scrutiny and reined in his emotions. “What I be meaning,” he said. “You be showing some respect, me Lady Coin, for them’s what died a terrible death.”
“Granted,” she said, turning and moving back to Kalen. “I’ve prayed the Lady for a cure for this malady, but none has appeared. The only end I know for the Fury is death.” Toytere clutched at his arm. For the first time, Kalen noticed a soaked bandage under the halfling’s sleeve. He felt cold inside.
“No doubt the Lady will provide,” Eden said, looking back at Toytere. “Her blessing is sharp, like a knife upon a whetstone. It prepares us for the violence to come.”
The halfling lost most of the color from his face. Had Kalen entertained any doubt, he knew now that Toytere had the Fury or at least believed he did. Kalen could believe it as well. The way the halfling had acted before-his outbursts and impatience … all of it fit Eden’s words exactly. Did she speak truly or was she merely trying to frighten them?
Eden gazed at him levelly. “Were I you,” she said, “I would get whatever you came to Luskan to find”-she smiled slightly-“and leave.”
That, Kalen thought, was as wonderful idea.
He turned, but she caught his face between her hands, studying him. “You look well, my handsome brother,” she said. “Aye, that’s the face of the Silverymoon seducer who raped my mother, right enough.”
Kalen wanted to protest, but the words caught in his throat. “Sister-”
“Barely,” she said. “Though I’m glad you’ve kept your face, Kalen.” She pressed her cheek against his. “Shame about the parley, else I’d gladly tear it off for you.”
Kalen shivered.
Eden pushed him away dismissively and wiped her hands. “See them out,” she said to her guards. “Gently, if you will.”
When they were almost to the door, she held up a hand. “Hold,” she said. “Pray, what did Umbra say exactly. The words he used?”
“He spoke of a turncoat priest,” Kalen said. “ ‘The turncloak is the one who knows all.’ I assumed that was you.” He scrutinized her carefully, but she hid her reaction well. She’d always been a far better liar than he. Had this whole visit been a waste of time?
No, Eden had conveyed something of value-a threat. One that awakened him to what had to be done next. He had to get Myrin out of here.
“Farewell Brother,” Eden said. “Get out of my city and don’t return.”
“That,” Kalen said, “I can promise.”
Eden had very much enjoyed that exchange.
It amused her to witness the confused look on Kalen’s handsome but stupid face. As well, she always enjoyed watching the halfling sweat. She realized why he had come in the first place-to keep her from slipping word of his impending betrayal.
“Oh yes, sweetling,” she murmured. “That game ends soon.”
Her other attendants looked at her quizzically-talking to herself was not something Eden did often. She dismissed them with a look.
After they were gone, she refilled her brandy-made it a double-and chuckled.
Since that first night she’d seen Kalen sneaking into the city, she’d wondered why he’d come back. It all made its own sort of sense, now that she’d seen the answers written across Kalen’s face with her own eye. The girl had called him and he would protect her with his very life if need be. How better to get him out of the city than suggesting that inescapable danger came toward her-a plague he could neither prevent nor cure?
Good-bye, brother, she thought.
“Now,” she said. “If only I could find the Horned One …”
“Sweetling, you’ve but to ask.”
The voice came so suddenly that she lost her balance on the edge of the divan. She caught at the sideboard, missed, and fell haphazardly to the floor. Her twisted leg roared in protest, but the pain vanished into the frenzied beat of her heart.
“Y-you,” she said.
“Me.”
The Horned One was a tanned sun elf, tall and slim of stature, with eyes like burnished gold coins. He dressed head to foot in the garb of a dandy. Bright colors stole her eyes away from the comparative drabness of Luskan. From his brow curled a graceful rack of antlers-a sign of favor from the Lady of Misfortune.
“Interesting that you have that,” he said, gesturing to the platinum coin in her eye socket. “Quite the device. But do you have any power of your own, I wonder?”
“I–I know who you are,” she said.
“So do I,” he replied, his voice smooth as silk.
She could not rise above one knee-his majesty compelled her. He was, after all, the high priest of her faith.
“Chosen of the Lady,” she said, touching the false eye that was her holy symbol.
“Stay a moment-Chosen? Oh nay, nay, that reaches much too far.” He cleared his throat. “Besides, the bowing and scraping would just be tiresome. Rise, lass, or you’ll set me all aflutter.”
He reached down and took her by the shoulders. Though his body did not show it, his arms held great strength and he lifted her to her feet easily.
“There now,” he said. “As to why I’m here, I’ve come before you, unglamored and undisguised, because you wanted to talk. So talk.” When she could not form words, he added: “For instance, you might tell me why you seek me.”
“I wish to know what business of the Lady brings you to Luskan.”
“My own,” he said.
Eden swallowed. It was hard to think in his presence. “Might I aid you somehow?”
“No,” he said. “What you can do is not cross my path. In particular, leave the girl Myrin Darkdance be. The others-feel free to dispose of them as you see fit.”
“The girl?” She had plans for that one, for which her wealthy outlander patron was paying her quite well. “But why, my lord?”
“I know all about your business with her and I know all about your employer,” he said. “You’ll leave her be or unpleasant consequences will follow.”
He was beautiful and he was terrible, but no one threatened Eden of the Clearlight, favored servant of the ladies luck, in her own chambers. A wave of anger rose and washed away her fascination with the Horned One, only to replace it with cold scheming.
“What will you give me, then, to ensure my loyalty?” She reached out and laid her hand on his chest. A moment ago, that had seemed like the height of blasphemy. Now, he was just a man, and she knew how to handle men. Her eyes dipped along his body. “Or perhaps I can give you something?”
His smile radiated cold. “Your mockery of a church is a disappointment to the Lady,” he said. “Count it a blessing I don’t murder you right here and now.”
“Do it, if you wish,” she said. “I like it rough.”
“No doubt.” He drew from his coast sleeve a bound and sealed scroll, one that appeared too big to fit there. “Here is your bribe, Eden One-Eye.”
“A scroll?” Eden sneered. “And here I offer myself to you, Chosen of the Lady.”
He stared at her a long, long moment. She felt, suddenly, the weight of his will arrayed against her-he had attempted some sort of magic. It drained away into her two-faced coin, however, leaving her untouched.
“I had forgotten,” he said, acknowledging the coin. “A clever artifice.”
He glanced down at her braced leg, which chose just that moment to seize up. She cried out in pain and fell back onto her divan. In falling, her brace snapped neatly in two, the metal biting into her flesh.
It hurt-gods how it hurt-and yet she found it exhilarating. She had seen him work no magic and yet somehow, misfortune obeyed his whim. What a blessing!
The Horned One spoke. “I have lived far longer than you, child,” he said. “And in all my centuries, I have loved only one woman. And you are not she.”
Then he was gone, as though he’d never been.
Eden fell prone on her divan, stunned. The Horned One himself, in her private chambers! It didn’t seem real, that such a minor servant of the Lady should be so honored. His presence filled her with a pleasure she could not explain.