your school, let someone know I want that spy beheaded and his hands sent back to Kez with his widow. I want Ipille to know his spies will start coming back in progressively smaller boxes unless he recalls them.”
Chapter 19
They buried what they could gather of Darden beneath a small barrow of rock and ice. There were more buried, Gavril told them, farther up the trail: pilgrims who did not survive the journey to the summit, and monks who had fallen prey to winter or to sickness or to predators upon the mountain. He assured them Darden would be in good company.
Taniel clenched a nub of charcoal between his fingers and began sketching Darden’s face in his book. The memory of how the man looked was already beginning to fade. Taniel just hadn’t known him long enough. He closed his eyes, trying to remember.
The vision of Julene—Taniel knew for certain it was her now—bouncing and screaming her way down the rock face and out of sight haunted Taniel throughout the night. He couldn’t sleep, for each time he managed to fall asleep, he saw Julene’s body, or that of the cave lion, thrashing and angry before his mind’s eye, mocking him. How could he not have seen it? Her anger, her recklessness. At the very least he should have been watching for a double cross. He ended up sitting in the cave entrance, watching the sky above begin to lighten as the sun rose in the east, on the other side of the mountain.
He’d disobeyed a direct order. What would Tamas do about it? What good could come of it? Tamas would just send another powder mage. Maybe he’d even come himself. He’d have Taniel court-martialed. Could Tamas have him executed? Taniel didn’t think even a man like Tamas could execute his own son. He hoped not, anyway.
How would Taniel explain this to Tamas? What would they do when another powder mage came for them? Taniel kicked a piece of ice over the ledge. They’d deal with those problems when they came up.
He heard ice crunch underfoot as Bo joined him. Taniel gave his friend a long look. Bo seemed as if he hadn’t slept well for weeks. His eyes were red, his face sunburned. He seemed to be constantly sweating, and he fingered the lapel of his coat nervously as he took a seat next to Taniel.
Bo watched the stars fade as Taniel sketched a likeness of Darden, until Taniel heard the first cries of birds looking for a morning meal.
“You’re getting quite good,” Bo said. “Looks just like him.”
“I’m glad you think so,” Taniel said. “I was having trouble picturing him.” He tucked the bit of charcoal into a pouch and folded his sketchbook.
“Tamas has a lot of gall sending you up here to kill me,” Bo said. His voice was pleasant, quiet. A feature many of his women found soothing, no doubt. “Don’t get me wrong,” he added. “I’m glad he did. Somebody else may have taken that shot. You could have chosen a better time, though.”
“You were expecting me,” Taniel said. He found he wasn’t surprised. Bo tended to know a lot of things, even when he shouldn’t. Taniel blew on his hands to warm them.
“A powder mage, eventually,” Bo said. “Actually, I expected Julene first. She’s the one I was preparing for.” He pointed down the trail, along the ledge of the mountain and the monastery far below. “I’ve been warding this whole trail for two weeks now. Ever since that inspector visited and gave me the message that she would try to summon Kresimir.” He fingered his lapel again, running a finger along the collar.
“ ‘She’?”
“Julene. That Predeii bitch.”
“Predeii,” Taniel said. “That Privileged I tracked in Adopest said she was a Predeii.”
Bo swallowed hard. “Two of ’em? Pit.”
“What’s a Predeii?” Taniel said.
“You don’t know?”
“Would I ask if I did?”
Bo frowned. “There’s a lot you find out in a royal cabal. Things only scholars remember. Secrets a thousand years old or more. I, uh… you said Tamas slaughtered the royal cabal, right?”
“Yeah.”
Bo looked up at the fading stars. “I suppose no one will come after me for spilling secrets, then.” He took a deep breath. “Kresimir didn’t come here on his own.”
Taniel gave his friend a skeptical look. “I haven’t attended a sermon since I was a boy. Only peasants listen to that stuff these days.”
“Peasants aren’t as dim as you think,” Bo said. “All superstition has basis in fact.”