“A hundred?” Dahl said. “No, that’s too many. He’ll notice if you suddenly can’t see anything.”
“What choice do I have?” Farideh demanded.
“We’ll think of something else,” Dahl said. “Don’t make him angry.” An awkward silence passed. “He hasn’t hurt you has he?”
“No. It’s odd. He’s being so polite. I’d started to wonder if I had remembered wrong. If maybe everything from before was in my head.” A hand, an eye, a foot at the ankle-Dahl shuddered. “It wasn’t. In fact, I’d really rather you came back out of here with me. Safer.”
“That’s going to make him just as angry. And then we’re still trapped behind the wall,” she said. She turned, searching the racks of weapons. “I haven’t found a way around that either. I asked the waters, no one’s even come close to escaping or damaging the wall.” She hesitated. “But the waters, they make portals too.” Farideh pulled a battered sword and belt from the stacks. “They don’t last long, I don’t think you can control where they open.”
“So we end up on another plane, maybe in another time, and we leave all these people to their probable doom, and Shade to reap some sort of reward.”
An option, Dahl thought. A last resort. Grab a few, fight their way in and go.
“Does he have any maps? Anything that shows where we are?”
“There were some in the study. Nothing marked.”
“I sent a message to Tam, but I could only guess at where we are. A map would be handy if he passes another sending along.”
“Right.” Farideh yanked open her haversack and slid a blue silk-bound ritual book and a bundle of dark cloth out of it. “Here-if it helps. I don’t have any more than when you taught them to me,” she added apologetically. “So nothing spectacular. And I grabbed the components more or less at random.” Dahl leafed through the book-a sending spell, a spell to control fire, a sentinel, a magic circle, a spell to unlock doors, and the amplification ritual he’d inked in there for her, too powerful for her to cast just yet. “Still, thank the Binder, this is something.” The bundle was small-good for maybe a ritual or two if she had taken the right things. “And thank you. Pity there’s no one to buy components from.”
“Tell me what you need and I’ll find it,” Farideh said.
“No. Don’t let him catch you raiding his stores.”
“I’m not the one sneaking through the fortress hoping no one realizes they’ve never seen me before.” She pulled a rod off a shelf, a battered-looking thing with cracked and cloudy amethysts at its tips. Dahl smiled, the last of that strange rashness evaporating.
“You still have it.”
She gave him a puzzled look. “Why wouldn’t I?”
The rod had been a peace offering, an apology for all the things he’d said all those years ago. He’d had to give it to her devil instead of Farideh, and he’d half expected to find out that Lorcan had thrown the package out first chance he had.
“Lorcan’s not going to swoop in here and rescue you, right?” he asked.
“And if he is, would he mind a few passengers?”
It was a shoddy joke, and she didn’t smile. “He’s not coming for me.” The sound of the door unlatching made both of them freeze. The wedge of light from the torches beyond cut through the gloom the hanging glowballs couldn’t disperse. Farideh dropped from the shelves, and she’d no more than touched ground but Dahl grabbed her around the waist and pulled her behind the racks where he’d stuffed his clothes that first night. They slipped into the low, dark space, pressed to the floor, peering out as two pairs of feet came around the swords’ rack, jingling with each step.
“Anything missing?” a man’s voice said.
“How could you tell?” a woman sneered. “This place is a mess.”
“Nirka,” Farideh breathed.
“What does it matter?” the man said. “You grab a weapon, you have what you need.”
“It matters if there are intruders stealing from us,” Nirka said. She paced across the room, toward Farideh and Dahl’s hiding place.
“And who said there are intruders?”
“A rumor,” Nirka replied.
Nirka came to stand beside the rack of implements, where Farideh had been, and chuckled roughly. “Ah. The little demon’s rod is gone.” Dahl felt Farideh tense against him. “She’s the one been snooping.”
“It’s her weapon,” the man pointed out. “I’d drag my chain out of here if someone tried to hide it. And then maybe I’d find somewhere to hide it in them.” He paused, then added, “Are you going to ask her about it?” He sounded as if he’d like to watch that.
Nirka sniffed. “Not tonight. Not with the Lady’s Handmaiden up there.” The man laughed. “Chavak says you can master it if you prick your hands four times every step.”
“Best of luck to Chavak,” Nirka said as they walked back out the door.
“I’ll give him a day and a half before he fades, trying that nonsense.” The latch clicked again, and Dahl let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “You know her?”
Farideh nodded, her eyes still on the place where the shadar-kai had stood.
“She’s the guard they put on my room most of the time.”
Dahl thought of Phalar. “Does she guard the wall when she’s not with you?”
“I don’t know,” Farideh said. “I assume they all do at times.” And Dahl had to assume that if a voice whispered from the darkness about intruders in the armory, any one of the guards would leap at the chance to root them out. Stlarning drow.
“Help me thin these weapons out,” Dahl said. “And we’ll make a plan for what comes next.”
Chapter Fourteen
24 Ches, the Year of the Nether Mountain Scrolls (1486 DR) The Lost Peaks
The next morning, Farideh didn’t argue when Tharra pulled down a deepnight-blue and gold tunic and breeches, with high boots to match. She didn’t quail at the jewels or ask her for quiet. Her eyes were on Nirka, waiting by the door, her thoughts on whether Dahl had made it back out into the camp after they’d parted ways, agreeing to meet back in two nights. “Leave a sign if you can’t make it,” she’d said before he’d disappeared down the corridor. “Some mark on one of the roofs near the wall so I know you’re safe.” Dahl agreed. “You too. Hang something out the window?”
“I know just the thing,” Farideh had said, thinking of the selection of skin-baring dresses.
In the cold light of day, their scrambled plans seemed flimsy as the awkward gowns. She was supposed to find the rest of the components for Dahl to make another sending-salts of copper and dried formian blood.
“Or brain mole,” Dahl had said. “Or intellect devourer. It will be labeled. But don’t touch anything. Just find it.”
“I can palm a little silver,” Farideh protested.
“Don’t,” Dahl had said again. “Don’t give him a reason to be dangerous.”
As if he weren’t dangerous already, Farideh thought. As if she weren’t setting scores of people into his hands. Dahl had had a point about her misidentifying Chosen. But what else could she do?
“You’re quiet, my lady,” Tharra said, as she finished fastening the laces of the tunic.
“It’s a quiet morning,” Farideh said. Hardly morning anymore-Rhand had spent the early hours in his study with the Nameless One, blessedly leaving Farideh alone for a time.
Now finally dressing for highsunfeast, her head was starting to throb again, as if the strange powers were tired of waiting to be used and going to start up whether she liked it or not. She thought of Dahl’s embarrassed expression when she’d admitted she’d seen the lights of his soul and felt a blush creep up her neck. Whatever Sairché had done, Farideh hoped dearly it could be undone. She didn’t want to go around peeking in on people.
There was a tapping at the door. Nirka ducked out, her rapid Netherese carrying through the door.
“Is Dahl all right?” Farideh asked. Tharra blinked at her.
“I assume so,” Tharra said, stitching the end of a braid up to its root. “Don’t think they would have come asking for servants among the prisoners if they’d caught that fool sneaking out.”