She stared at him. Tears welled in her eyes again. "Ah, but you are a boy, Master Tinwright."
"I am grown!"
"In years. But your heart is still innocent. I am filthy and I would be¬grime you, too. I would stain you as I myself am stained, corrupted…"
"No. Please, do not say such things!"
"I must go." She gently pulled free of his grip. "You are kind-you can¬not know how kind-to say such things to me. But you must not think of me. I could not bear to have another's soul on my conscience."
Before she could turn away again he stepped forward and took her shoulders, felt her trembling. Could it be she had some feelings for him? She looked so startled at his touch, so frightened, as if she expected to be hit, that he did not kiss her mouth, although he wished to at this moment beyond any dream of riches or fame he had ever coveted. Instead he let his hands slide down her arms. As if his fingers stole her vitality where they passed, she let the mask drop clattering to the walkway. He took both her hands in his, lifted them to his lips, and kissed her cold fingers.
"I love you, Lady Elan. I cannot bear to see you, and to know you are in pain."
Her cheeks were wet, her eyes bright and frightened. "Oh, Master Tin¬wright, it cannot be."
"Matthias. My name is Matthias."
She looked at him for a long moment, then pulled his hands up to her mouth and kissed them in turn. "Would you really help me? Truly?
He was soaking with rain, but he could feel her tears on his hands like-streaks of hot lead. "I would do anything-I swear by all the gods. Ask me."
She turned to look out into the darkness. When she turned back her face was strange."Then bring me poison. Something that will cause a quick death."
For a moment Matt Tinwright could not breathe. "You… you would kill Tolly?"
She let go of his hands and wiped at her eyes with her sleeve. "Are you mad? With my sister married to his brother Caradon? The Tollys would destroy her. They would burn my parents' house to the ground and mur¬der them both. Not to mention that Southmarch Castle would be left in the hands of Crowel and Havemore and others almost as blackhearted as Hendon, but not as clever. The March Kingdoms would be drowned in blood in half a year." She took a breath. "No. I want the poison for myself."
She pulled away from him again, bent and picked up her mask. When she stood, she was again a phantom. "If you love me, you will bring me that release. It is the only gift I can ever take from you, sweet Matthias."
And then she was gone into the rain.
21
The Death watch Chamber
Brave Nushash was out riding and saw Suya the Dawnflower, the beautiful daughter of Argal, and instantly knew she must be his. He stopped beside her and held out his hand, and at once she too fell in
love with him. Thus it is when the heart speaks louder than the
head-even gods must listen. She reached up to him and let the fire
god draw her up into the saddle. Together they rode away.
— from The Revelations of Nushash, Book One
VANSEN LAY ON HIS FACE, still trembling, unable to find the strings to make his limbs lift him again and uncertain that he wanted to. The terrible voice that had blasted through his head like a crack of thunder was still echoing, although whether that was inside or outside his skull, or both, he could not have said.
Vansen whimpered despite himself. He felt as though an ocean wave had picked him up and dashed him onto the rocks. He clung to the floor and wondered if he could hit his head hard enough on the stone flags to kill himself and end this throbbing, agonizing clamor.
When the voice rolled over and through him again, the words and the mocking laugh were quieter-painful but not crippling. "Well, then, I will speak more softly, for the comfort of my guests. Sometimes I forget what the voice of a god can do…"
"Half a god," said a voice Vansen had never heard before, but which seemed somehow weirdly familiar. It was vastly less intrusive than the one eyed monster's, but it sounded inside Ferras Vansen's head in the same way. "Half a god, half a monster."
"Is there a difference?"
"Why do you take us from our lawful business, Old One?"
"To help me in my lawful business," the rumbling voice said. "But what brings one of the Encauled so close to my adopted kingdom? What is this lawful business of which you speak?"
"We are riding home to the House of the People, but were driven out of our way. Why should you interfere?"
Now that Jack Chain's voice no longer rattled his bones with each ut¬terance, Vansen slowly began to lift himself from the ground. He ached as if he had been beaten, but if he was going to die he would do his best to meet that death standing, as a soldier of Southmarch. The dusty stone be¬neath him was splotched with red; he lifted his hands to his face and real¬ized his nose was streaming blood.
"Interfere? You trespass on my land, little hobgoblin, and then claim I have in¬terfered with you?" The monstrous, one-eyed creature lolled on his statue-throne, his splayed legs longer than Vansen was tall, the handsome, ruined head as big as a temple bell. Jikuyin was smiling down at a small figure standing before him-Gyir the Storm Lantern.
"J am on the king's business," said Gyir's voice.
By the Three, Vansen thought, I can understand him! He was as astonished by this as everything else that had happened to them. I can hear him in my head now, just as the prince can!
He turned to tell Barrick, but was horrified to see the boy lying on his side with blood running from his nose and ears. Vansen threw himself down beside him and was only slightly relieved to feel the rise and fall of Bar-rick's chest.
"He is hurt!" Vansen shouted. "Help him, you god or whatever you are-it was your great barking voice that did this to him!"
Jikuyin laughed long and hard; the sound rolled and crashed in Vansen's skull like untethered barrels slamming in the hold of a storm-tossed ship. "Help him! I like you, little mortal-you are very amusing! But like the fly on the horse's back who tells his host which way to go, you have a flawed notion of your own importance." He turned his single eye on Gyir. "As for you, slave of the Fireflower, I do not know how one of the Encauled could let himself be taken unawares and by Longskulls, no less…!" The god-thing chortled, and several of the other prisoners in the great room laughed, too, if not with the same heartiness as their master. "But it signifies nothing, in any case. You will be part, of my great work. " Jikuyin grinned, showing the true horror of his ruined mouth and shattered teeth. He stroked the chains across his chest, making the severed heads sway. "And even if you cannot help me in any profound way, you will at least, as I promised, prove ornamental."
The giant stood then for the first time, and even though Ferras Vansen had thought himself full to sickening with strange miracles, it was a horri¬ble, astonishing sight: Jikuyin was so tall that his great head seemed to rise into the heights of the chamber like the pockfaced mooon, beyond the reach of the torches and lanterns, until much of it had passed into shadow and only the lower, broken half could be seen.
"Take them away," he rumbled. A host of shapes scurried forward from the dark edges of the massive room-the guard-Followers, man-sized and heavier than the Longskulls, with stubs of sharp bone poking through their matted pelts and small piggy eyes glinting like coals. "Give them to the gray one and tell him to keep them safe until I need them."
Gyir stood firm as the red-eyed things began to surround him, and clearly would have fought, but one of the apelike creatures had already stolen up behind him unseen. It hit Gyir in the back of the head with its massive fist and the Storm Lantern was pulled down and dragged away.