your followers for using the power they had at hand to preserve the lives of the Princes. But it is clear to the magi, and to the Exalted, that the cessation of those hostilities was at your command, when you were not present.
“You are not bard-born, and you are not magi; there is no way for your words to carry. No known, accepted way. But they did. What we know of seers is scant, but no story that originated in Old Weston contains any hint that the seers could communicate their visions over great distances. You are not god-born. It is true that the god-born can conceal the color of their eyes from casual discovery, but it requires the cooperation of the magi, and you have not had that.
“What are you, Terafin? You must understand that a power that can casually stretch to encompass the whole of the Isle is a power that cannot be countenanced in the hands of any save the Kings.”
Chapter Six
IT WAS SILENT in the small room; it was an almost intimate silence. Breath was its harmony; even movement was stilled. The magelights’ glow was soft enough that the moons’ light almost equaled it; beneath a ceiling of sky, the two woman regarded each other. Beyond them, by the wall, Avandar was as still, assessing danger. He was not, Jewel noted, surprised.
She was.
“Is this the topic of discussion for tomorrow’s meeting with the Exalted?”
“It is.”
Jewel glanced at her plate as Avandar once again resumed his duties as domicis. She had lost all appetite, but knew from experience that lack of food had its costs. She ate in silence; the topic had not notably deterred the guildmaster from doing likewise.
“This is not, of course, the reason I chose to visit. I am to ask you—and I will—about the demon in the Common, and I am to make my displeasure at your high-handed demand for inexpensive service of the Order known.” She smiled; it was a brittle expression, but it held no danger for Jewel. Very little she could now say would.
“I will grant Meralonne his permission, of course, and I will return, disgruntled, to my Tower.”
“The Order will be angry at Terafin,” Jewel pointed out.
“Terafin, oddly enough, will bear the lesser brunt of their outrage; if you do not seek a similar agreement with any other Member of the Order, it is Meralonne they will harangue in their pique. As he will no doubt be absent from the Towers in the foreseeable future, I consider it a small price to pay.”
“They’ll be angry at you.”
“Yes, but again—Meralonne is known. Their anger with me will be the anger of co-confederates, for they do not truly believe that Meralonne APhaniel follows my commands, except as it suits his whim.”
“But . . .”
“Yes?”
“But he does.”
Sigurne raised a white brow. “You are, as expected, perceptive, Terafin. Yes. He does. But it is an intricate dance. I do not attempt to give him orders which I know in advance are too trivial for him to follow. I do not tell him how to dress, I do not command him to attend social events, no matter how it might bolster the Order’s reputation; nor do I deny him the use of his infernal pipe. I know his measure, and he knows mine.” She rose. “I will not tell you to trust him; you have known him for some years now, and I believe you have taken his full measure in that time.
“But I will ask—if necessary, plead—that you listen to what he might condescend to teach. And if in the course of that teaching, you can break him of the pipe’s habit, I shall be eternally grateful.”
* * *
When Sigurne was gone, Jewel lingered in the small dining room. Avandar watched her as she stared at the empty space across the table, remembering other nights, other emergencies, other hopes.
“You did not mention Rymark.”
“No.”
“You did not ask about the Shining Court.”
“No—given the doubts the Kings now have, I thought it wisest to refrain. If I am to meet with the Kings to make the case for my own survival,” she added, unable to keep the bitterness of surprise—and, yes, anger—from her words. “It’s best to have something in my hand to offer them.” She rose. “Shall I go meet Meralonne?”
“Is he waiting?”
Jewel glanced out of the window. “Yes.”
Silence. Even in her thoughts, Avandar’s reaction to the words was inaudible. “How long,” he finally asked, “has he been waiting?”