She still felt fragile, but instinct told her that her healing was done. Her hearing was diminished and her voice remained a ruin, but she was far stronger than a man now, and vastly more resilient — the occasional bouts of poor balance and her tendency to move slowly and carefully were ingrained, and she would have to learn to live around them.
The building was split into three parts. Business was conducted in the large hallway at the front. It looked more like a storeroom than a shop front. Legana headed there first, knowing Lell Derager, the wine merchant who was Byora's Farlan agent, didn't conduct business after dark. The slamming of the door was almost certain to have been those fools from Narkang returning.
As she reached the bottom of the stair Legana found Derager and his wife, Gavai, standing at the entrance to his cramped office. At the sound of her feet the rotund man turned and spread his arms in a welcoming gesture, remembering that Legana found the nuance of facial expressions difficult to make out.
'Legana, do you feel better after your nap?' he said in a booming voice.
She nodded, not bothering to write on the slate. Lell wasn't the sort of man to mind. He was courteous to the point of sparking Legana's suspicious nature, and did everything for her himself, rather than call for a servant. He wasn't old — less than forty summers — but his mutton-chops and beard made it hard to judge his age. He was far more ebullient than his wife, who was ten years his senior, but they were both considerate, caring hosts — and the least likely spies Legana could imagine, which had presumably been the former Whisper's logic.
'Your friends have returned,' Gavai advised her. 'They're just drying off. Let us go into the family room and wait for them.' She offered her arm to Legana. After a moment's hesitation she took it
and allowed herself to be led to the second largest room in the house. She had precious little actual experience of how a daughter should be treated, but Legana was beginning to imagine it was something like this.
An inordinately wide bog-oak dining table dominated the room, but large though it was, there was at least ten foot clearance on either side. A candelabrum hung from the main beam of the low ceiling above the table. On the left, a mismatched assortment of chairs were arranged almost at random around the fire. Gavai directed Legana to one facing away from the flickering flames and placed herself beside the former Farlan assassin. Lell followed them in and ushered his teenage son towards the kitchen, saying something Legana didn't catch.
By the time Lell returned, goblets of wine in each hand, Doranei and Sebe had joined them and gratefully accepted the offer of a drink. Doranei tossed back the wine in one gulp, which didn't surprise Legana until Sebe followed suit swiftly.
As Lell picked up the brass wine jug to refill their glasses, Legana scribbled on her slate, — Bad news? She thought she detected a scowl on Doranei's face, and that was confirmed by the grim tone of his voice.
'Looks like you were right,' he said reluctantly. 'Azaer's disciples are here.'
'You're certain?' Lell said, before adding, 'well, of course you are. No one wears that face unless they're sure. How did you find out?'
'Our agent here is being watched by men reporting to the Ruby Tower,' Sebe answered for Doranei as he made headway on the drink. 'It's a tighter network than yours, and almost certain not to be casually picked up. We interrogated one of the watchers. They're to report any visitors to a new sergeant in the Ruby Tower Guard.'
Duchess and Azaer? asked Legana.
Doranei shook his head. 'I doubt it, but the description of the sergeant was easy enough to recognise. If he's here, then the rest of Azaer's disciples probably are too. I don't think they have the strength to divide their forces now; Scree, especially the loss of Rojak, will have drained their resources considerably.'
'Which means either Aracnan's murder of High Priest Lier is coincidence, or it's a sign that he's under Azaer's command,' Lell said, glancing at his wife. 'Getting Lier out of the way makes the duchess more easily influenced, as well as fuelling the conflict between Eight Towers and Hale.'
'And this is not a business of coincidences,' Gavai finished for her husband. The pair might not have ever been at the sharp end of spycraft where Legana and the King's Men lived, but they were under no illusions about what they were involved with.
'I know enough to report to my king,' Doranei said, staring straight at Legana, 'but what are you going to do?'
Legana didn't respond immediately. As everyone turned to look at her, she kept her eyes on Doranei. He didn't understand what had happened to her — she didn't understand it herself yet — but he himself, perhaps without knowing it, was not just a pawn in the game; he was a man who could call Lord Isak friend and Zhia Vukotic something more. Of all of them, he was the only one who could understand the twilight world she now inhabited. Her hand went to the line of bumps around her neck, a regular curve just above the collar-bones. She couldn't feel the shadow mark that overlaid half of the emeralds under her skin. She couldn't see her own eyes, though she knew they were different. And the changes didn't stop there. There was a fire in her blood, like she'd always imagined magic to be like: a tiny prickle that could erupt into the fury of a furnace at a moment's notice.
— Do I call myself Farlan any longer? Can I? 1 accepted the Lady's kinship but she's dead now — I feel the part of her inside me is dead — but what about the other Gods? Are they my kin now, or am 1 just Raylin, a being of power but with no allegiance?
Finally she wrote hesitantly, — I do not know to whom 1 now kneel.
Gavai whispered the words aloud as Legana wrote. She placed a sympathetic hand on Legana's arm, but withdrew it when she flinched.
— The only place I've ever belonged is the Temple of the Lady, Legana realised as she wiped the slate clean. — Whatever spark of divinity that remains, is that enough to sustain the temples, or will they just end up as killers for hire? We were halfway there already.
'I understand your problem,' Doranei said, interrupting her thoughts, 'but we could use your help. You once called us allies; could that not continue? Even if only out of a common enemy?'
— He is too strong for me, she wrote.
'Gods! I'm not asking you to take Aracnan down.' Doranei shook his head firmly to emphasise the point though he was speaking loudly enough for her to hear him. 'Information will be our greatest weapon; information provided by someone with insight we cannot get elsewhere.'
— They would sense me if I spied on the duchess.
'Then let us find another way.' He paused. 'You do want revenge, don't you?'
Legana didn't reply. For herself she felt nothing, just the emptiness in her gut that had once been the divine touch of the Lady. But then she remembered that night in the temple; the brutality that had broken her body, and the sight of the Lady, skin flayed and scorched as she turned away from Aracnan.
— Why did she save me and not herself? Even if she couldn't save herself, why save me? Who gives up in a fight even if they're outmatched? Legana felt her hand tense at the memory of Fate's dying expression. The Goddess didn't think like that. The creed says we are her daughters, and a mother does not abandon her daughters.
— I want revenge. The image of Fate was clear and painful in her memory, the emerald green of the Lady's eyes shining out from the darkness of the grave.
— But not enough to abandon my sisters, she added, holding the slate out to Doranei for emphasis.
'Of course. I understand,' he told her. 'King Emin always spoke in fond terms of the Lady. If there is help Narkang can provide you, just ask.'
'Before all that,' Lell interrupted, 'I need to send a bird to Tirah. Lord Isak needs this information.'