patron the Earl of Dun’s got it through his thick skull that she has a snake with ruby eyes and couples with it to get her power. Your father’s been a good friend to us, missy, but these days with rumor spreading like bindweed, it pays to take precautions, that’s all.”
From the gates nearby there was a sharp clattering of hooves; Tally turned, startled, to see a small group of riders emerge, bound for a day’s hunting. She glimpsed her father, tall and broad-shouldered in his red leather doublet and plumed cap, and his fair, fragile, pretty second wife; saw her husband, Marc, like a bright bird of paradise in green, flirting already with one of her stepmother’s ladies; and near beside them, her sister Damson, corseted brutally into yards of plum-colored brocade and plastered with jewels. With her rode her husband, Esrex, pale, cold, and slender, looking as if he detested the whole business. Of their son, Dinias, heir to the Dukedom from which her father had ousted Esrex’ grandfather, there was no sign. Probably he was having another bout of chest pain and wheezing, Tally thought, trying to summon up sympathy for the boy in spite of his thoroughly unpleasant personality. She noted that her own son—Rhion’s son—six years old and rosy and fierce as a lion cub, had somehow finagled his way onto the saddlebow of one of the huntsmen, and shook her head.
Beside her, she was aware of Shavus’ gesture, a slight tracing of runes in the air with his fingers; though Damson turned her head their way Tally saw her sister’s bulging gray eyes pass over them unseeing.
And for all she had said about her father’s support of wizards, about how safe it would be for them to enter Bragenmere, she was glad the old man had surrounded them with the thin scrim of spells that had prevented Esrex and Damson from seeing her in the company of mages.
She sighed and turned back to them. “They should be back a few hours after noon—it’s too hot to be hunting after that,” she said. “Father put Jaldis’ rooms under seal when Jaldis went away, and asked me if Rhion had gone with him—I think to make sure Jaldis hadn’t gone alone. Esrex has been after him to destroy the contents of those rooms and to burn the books Jaldis left with him, but Esrex has always hated Rhion and Jaldis and is out to impress the priests of Agon.”
“And as far as you know, the Dark Well’s still up in that loft of his?”
“As far as I know.” Tally reached forward and helped the Lady of the Moon get to her feet. The matter must be serious, she thought, for she had never heard of the Gray Lady leaving the Drowned Lands in all the years Rhion had been Scribe there. “I know Father will let you up there...”
“Good.” The Archmage grunted. His blue eyes grew grave, losing that cynical sharpness as they met hers once more. “For I’ll tell you the truth, missy—there’s a smell in the air that I don’t like. I tried to talk Jaldis out of going to that other world of his, saying wizardry here would need as much help as he claims it does there, and he wouldn’t listen. But now I think things are serious enough—with the spies of Agon everywhere, and strange rumors going about—that it’s time I contacted Jaldis and our little Rhion and brought them back, whatever they may feel about their other world. And I’ve a feeling we’re going to need all the help we can get.”
Eight
“I NEVER LIKED the idea of you staying in the attics.” Von Rath handed Rhion a chunk of raw beef and frowned down at him severely. “Now you see what happens?”
“It was my own fault.” The meat was cold on the gruesomely swollen flesh. A glance at the mirror had showed him the whole area had turned purplish black. “And I’d rather fall down the stairs once than wake up every morning with a headache from the cigarette smoke in the rest of the house.” Rhion leaned back against the iron spindles of the bedframe and shut his other eye, hoping his explanation had covered all the physical evidence and that the sentry hadn’t seen fit to report the unlocked door of the laundry room.
“I shall speak to the men...”
Rhion waved his free hand irritably. “No! They think I’m a lunatic already, for Chrissake. The last thing I need