“Globe?” Jusson asked, and I described the glowing alabaster half sphere, and how it had cracked, then shattered.
“An amplifien,” Laurel rumbled, walking to where I sat and handing me a full teacup. “Used to augment the power of their working. It helped you to enter his dreams, no? Dreams you were able to access because of the knife. But Rabbit regaining the knife must have created a backlash that destroyed the globe.”
Wyln stirred in his seat, murmuring something that sounded suspiciously like “Good.”
“We thought the knife would be enough at first,” Rosea said, “since we used it to kill Menck and raise the demon, binding both the demon and Mencke’s death to Lord Rabbit through it. It wasn’t, though, so we used the globe. Even that wasn’t enough, so we bespelled the crossbow bolts used in the ambush to give us access to you.” Rosea’s eyes flashed to me again. “You are very strong, my lord.”
“So I heard,” I said. A thought occurred to me. “But how was the sorcerer able to attempt to bind me in the first place? If he’s in Ryandii, there’s no way he could do line of sight.”
“We used Gawell’s mirror,” Rosea said. “It was on the stage, next to Lady Alys’ daybed, already spelled so they could see clearly. As it would’ve been each performance until you came by. We were fortunate that you appeared in the audience so quickly.”
“Very fortunate,” Wyln said, his voice lilting, his eyes ablaze. “With a sorcerous object placed out in the open and not only a Faena and enchanter in town, but also faeries and a king who has a feel for the talent.”
“Yes, my lord,” Rosea whispered. “But they wanted Lord Rabbit so badly that they were willing to take the risk. Especially Slevoic.” I received another flash of moss green eyes. “He is jealous of you, my lord. He wants what you have, all of your talent, all of everything. The others wouldn’t let him bind you, though he desperately wanted to. They said that it was because he wasn’t strong enough to hold you—which is true. But it was also because they were afraid that he wouldn’t share.”
I nodded tiredly; after three years of dodging the Vicious’ attentions in the garrison, his “wants” weren’t a great surprise. “Who is he?” I asked. “The sorcerer who did try to bind me? Slevoic called him Kan.”
“That’s an honorific,” Suiden said. “It means ‘lord’ or ‘master.’”
“Kan Sikas,” Rosea said. “He was very careful not to let me know his family name. The others were also careful. Nor did they let me see their faces—including Slevoic.” She took a deep, shuddering breath, and let it out. “Is my life forfeit?”
“Sire,” Beollan began, protesting.
“Majesty,” Ranulf said at the same time.
Jusson raised his hand and they fell silent. “You tell me, Lady Rosea,” the king said. “Sorcery, necromancy, treason, rebellion, murder. Not to mention the just-confessed assaults upon my heir. What do you think?”
Rosea’s head bowed, her knuckles white as her hands knotted together in her lap.
“Mercy, Majesty,” Ranulf said. “My sister is mad.”
“Oh?” Jusson’s brow rose. “She seems remarkably coherent to me.”
“Not all who are mad babble to themselves or howl at the moon, Your Majesty,” Beollan said. “Rosea’s insanity is more subtle than that. Her world has became narrower and narrower, turning in on itself until it contains nothing and no one but herself.”
I’d half expected Jusson to make some quip about most folks’ worlds being like that, but he went quiet. “That would be very subtle,” the king finally said. “I would imagine that it would also be very frightening.”
“Yes, sire,” Ranulf said. “It was. We didn’t know who she’d harm, or why, or how. Our old nurse—” He broke off for a moment, his mouth tight. “This is something that came upon our family from the Border war. The males of our House were cursed as you saw me, turning into ravening, unreasoning beasts at each full moon—
“It’s not full now,” an aristo remarked, looking nervous. “Yet you changed.”
“The demon called forth the bear, despite the Consort not being in phase,” Laurel said. He cast a significant glance at my teacup and, sighing, I drained it, shuddering at the lukewarm bitterness. But he only poured me more. “It is an ability of earth, to cause translations, and the demon had taken someone with that aspect,” Laurel added.
“If you say so,” Ranulf said. “Usually we’re able to achieve some sort of control, if only by counting the days and making sure we’re locked up on certain nights.”
“Your father controlled it very successfully,” Jusson said. “I’d no idea he struggled with this.”
“He was very adept at counting, sire,” Ranulf said. “But our women don’t change. Instead, they descend into madness, some screaming, others fading and still others with pieces missing, like Rosea, whom we had to confine. A little over a year ago, though, she escaped and we were unable to find her. Then we received word she was traveling with this acting troupe and we managed to track them here.”
“So your arrival in Freston had nothing to do with wanting to reconcile with your king?” Jusson asked, his voice mild.
Ranulf rubbed his beard. “I—” he began, then stopped. When Jusson just waited, he sighed while Beollan closed his silver eyes. “You knew, Your Majesty?”
“That you were involved in Flavan’s plots and schemes?” Jusson shrugged. “Of course. Consider who Teram surrounded himself with. As soon as the rebellion failed, they all came running to me, spilling every secret they ever had.”
“My father was ailing, Your Majesty,” Ranulf said tiredly, “my sister had been missing for several months by then and it seemed that I was getting worse. I was angry— at just about everything. But especially the Border. I was very angry at the Border. And there were Flavan and Dru, whispering about your Border cousin and how you planned to turn us over to the magicals.”
“So we did meet at Teram’s nightmare masque,” I said.
“I didn’t know what he planned,” Ranulf said.
“How convenient,” I said.
“Truth, Rabbit,” Ranulf said. “On my House, I swear it. I didn’t know until after you came back inside and told about the attack in the garden on you and Lord Esclaur. I argued with Teram and Gherat later. How could we claim honor when we act dishonorably? To invite a man—a kinsman—to your home and then try to kill him on the sly—”
“There’s a lot of that going around,” Jusson remarked.
“I broke with them right then,” Ranulf said. “And at first light the next morning I was on the road home.”
“Missing the rebellion?” I asked. “Also convenient.”
“I was very angry,” Ranulf repeated.
“And you’re not now?” Jusson asked, his voice still mild.
Ranulf’s face changed, his deep-set brown eyes filling with a bright light. “Oh, no, sire. Not only did I get my sister back, I got me back. And my children. And my children’s children. The curse is gone, lifted off of me and mine. I could feel its going. It is a miracle.”
“Ah, yes,” Jusson said. “Miracles. Like everyone dying, then coming back to life. What did happen?”
“We went someplace safe, sire,” Thadro said. Others in the room began nodding.
“Yes,” a southern aristo said. “You see, sire, this lady took us to this lake and there was ibn Chause—”
“Except it wasn’t really him,” a northern lord broke in. “The real Lord Rabbit was standing outside the lake, looking in.”