Stained Glass Monsters (14 page)

"I'll be with my brother." Rennyn
wandered off, cheating a little with the weight of the bags. She
hadn't slept and was still very tired, but felt herself again. So
long as she didn't think too much.

Asking about, she was directed to a
small room in the Sentene's building. "I see you're making good use
of the library," she said.

"Ren!" Seb jumped to his feet and hugged
her tight.

She was glad of it, holding him close
for a long moment before she let him pull away.

"You look terrible."

"Thanks. Have you heard much of what's
been happening?"

"Hardly. They see me as babysitting,
nothing more. The way they moved me this morning, I had a feeling
they needed the infirmary."

"Yes." Rennyn cleared a few books from
the bed, then took him through the events of the past few days. The
excitement died from his eyes, but then he frowned and shook his
head.

"It shouldn't make any difference,
really. Well, not to our plans, though if we think of any way to
help the Sentene with the incursions, we could make a few
suggestions. But – this Helecho – do you think he's as loyal a son
as Tiandel?"

Seb was always quick to the vital
points. "The Summoning will be taking most of her concentration, so
that...creature gives her a free agent. Whether he was supposed to
come through a breach himself and work from this side, or whether
this invasion attempt was even part of her plans, that I can't
guess. The Eferum may have changed her to the point where having a
horde of Eferum-Get loose in Asentyr is acceptable to her."

"If he's making a play of his own, he'll
not want her to complete the Summoning. Which would be reason
enough to not kill you when he had the chance. It may mean things
won't play out as we expect." He looked at her anxiously.

"Possible, I suppose." Rennyn sighed.
"Though there's no proof he's not acting on her instructions.
Either way, he's a nasty creature."

"Ren..."

"Mm?"

"The way this ends–"

"I know. I'll try my best." She clasped
his hand, forestalling anything else he might say in this place
where anyone could be listening. "How are your treatments
going?"

"The worst is gone, but it'll be a
couple of weeks yet before I'm clear of it. I'm clumsy, can't write
properly, and if I stand up too long I go all shaky. In a way – in
a way I'm glad it happened, that I came here."

"Yes." Rennyn looked down at her hands.
"It's better to face some things, isn't it? No matter the
complications."

"Speaking of which – I may have been a
little tactless." With a certain amount of relish he told her of an
encounter with the royal heirs.

"You do get these righteous fits."

"You'd have done the same thing."

A knock at the door ended the
conversation, and it opened to reveal Lieutenant Danress.

"Lady Weston is ready to speak with you
now."

Rennyn blinked. The Sentene mage had her
uniform fully fastened, hiding the lower part of her face but
totally failing to disguise simmering fury. Rennyn reviewed her
conversation, wondering what she could have revealed, but then she
realized that Danress was barely looking at her. This was nothing
to do with the Claires.

Exchanging a blank look with Seb, she
allowed herself to be led away. It wasn't just Danress. Rennyn
caught a glimpse of several people having what seemed to be a
heated argument in the Sentene's central hall. The whole atmosphere
was charged with sudden upset. Decidedly worrying.

Lady Weston was alone in a cavernous and
slightly musty study. She looked old, closer to her true age
instead of the forty-ish woman magic allowed her to remain. She
didn't seem surprised when Lieutenant Danress, instead of politely
delivering Rennyn and departing, abruptly launched into speech.

"M'Lady, please, is there nothing you
can do?"

The Grand Magister made a quelling
gesture, fond but stern. "There are some battles it's better to
concede, Jolien. This is one."

"But it's uncalled for," Lieutenant
Danress said, tugging her collar open as if it stifled her.
"They've done nothing to deserve it. And it's so ungrateful. Not to
mention unjust."

"Justice and politics rarely walk
together," Lady Weston said.

"Has something happened?" Rennyn asked,
though she had a suspicion.

Lieutenant Danress turned to her, with a
hint of doubt which told its own story. "The Queen has ordered that
the Kellian be placed under injunction and put to the Question,"
she said, her voice quavering with anger.

"Someone's actually taking the idea of
them worshipping Solace seriously?"

"Perhaps not worship. But the demand is
growing that they submit some proof that there remains no lingering
allegiance." Lady Weston shook her head. "The Kellian have their
enemies, and this is naturally an ideal moment to strike. It comes
as no surprise."

"An ideal moment?" Lieutenant Danress
took a frustrated step, as if she were longing to hit someone not
there. "Haven't they noticed what's been going on? There couldn't
be a worse moment! Don't they understand anything at all about what
the Kellian do for us?"

"Possibly not," Lady Weston said dryly.
"But this is a command from our Queen, Jolien. The time for
argument is past."

Rennyn was finding it very hard not to
think about Captain Illuma catching her and carrying her out of the
blast site. Nor of a badly-needed bath. She had been spending more
than a little effort, these past couple of weeks, trying not to
think constantly of the Kellian. It would have been so much easier
if she'd been able to avoid working with them until the last
moment. But Seb was right.

"Where do I fit into the interrogation
schedule?" she asked, and smiled at their arrested expressions.
"After all, I am Solace's direct descendent, and head of the
Montjuste-Surclere family. If anyone's going to be accused of
lingering allegiances, it should surely be me."

"You would allow that?" Lady Weston's
surprise was palpable.

"I don't guarantee to answer everything,
but somehow I suspect the questions they'll ask are ones I have
fairly definitive views about." She considered Lieutenant Danress.
"You're a descendent of one of those Eferum Travellers, aren't you?
Maybe you should be interrogated too, just in case you're some kind
of advance spy. Really, is there anyone in the Sentene who can
truly be considered above suspicion? Questioning only the Kellian
is a trifle lax, Lady Weston."

"That is an excellent point." Lady
Weston glanced at Lieutenant Danress, who nodded eagerly.

"If it's the only way to balance this,"
the younger mage said. "Gladly."

"Very well." Lady Weston pulled a sheet
of paper from the reports spread on her desk, and began writing.
"Take this to Councillor Allerton, Lieutenant," she ordered. "And
then pass my command to the Senior Captains."

"Yes, M'Lady!" Lieutenant Danress said
crisply, and strode out of the room. She looked very happy for
someone who'd just been added to an interrogation list.

"A show of solidarity is little enough,
but it will make all the difference to morale," Lady Weston said.
"There are few Sentene magi who don't owe their lives to their
partners. Particularly after Darasum House. Only the Kellian could
have saved that situation."

"Oh?" Rennyn sat down in one of the
high-backed chairs before the desk. "I wondered how they'd managed
so few casualties."

"Instinct." Lady Weston shook her head,
then rang a bell, summoning a secretary to send for spiced tea.
"The Kellian have a command, Full Clear – they train it, but I've
not heard of it being used before. It means 'take your mage and
run'. Their speed and Faille's instinct – which is the best among
the Kellian and as close to precognition as anything is likely to
come – is all that prevented almost the entire Sentene from dying
to that exploit of the shield. They managed to get most of the Hand
present out too, and the Ferumguard were fortunately further back.
But there were still deaths, and many injuries."

"Not a good moment for spiteful
interrogations."

"No." Lady Weston gave Rennyn a
searching glance. "I admit that I'm surprised. I had an impression
you were less than eager to associate with the Kellian."

"True enough," Rennyn said, thinking
over what it was safe to admit. "But that's nothing to do with
their loyalties."

"Then why?"

"Guilt, I suppose you could say." She
shrugged at Lady Weston's startled expression. "Queen Solace did
two major things during her rule. The Grand Summoning is the thing
she's known for, but it's the second which is perhaps the larger
achievement."

"She created a race."

"I don't think it was deliberate. The
original Kellian were designed to be long-lived, but nothing I've
read suggests that she intended them to breed. That's Symbolic
magic: you get more than you ask for. But even if it was only a
question of the original ten golems – my family has devoted itself
to dealing with the Grand Summoning; we took responsibility for it.
But the Kellian – after Solace was gone, Tiandel ordered the
Kellian to leave Tyrland and never return. They were...barely
people. Not mindless dolls, but they existed for a specific
purpose. It was everything they were. They didn't have personal
goals, personal desires. They couldn't even speak. And Tiandel told
them to go away and not come back."

"Does avoiding the Kellian who exist
today balance that?"

"Not at all. But – do you know, that
horrible second son of hers saw it straight away? 'A
Montjuste-Surclere with a Kellian bodyguard'. I don't want them
protecting me. I hate the idea of – using them. Besides, I just as
strongly feel that I shouldn't be talking about 'taking
responsibility' for them. They're people, not children, not tools.
Between feeling I should do something for them, and knowing I could
get them killed – it's cowardly, I know, but I just wanted to have
as little to do with them as possible. Mainly to spare my own
feelings."

They were interrupted by the arrival of
tea and cakes, and Rennyn was glad to have been stopped. She
shouldn't have tried to explain. "Complicated, you see," she said,
busying herself taking several slices of something particularly
sticky and rich. "Do they have so many enemies?"

"Enough to matter. It's not merely their
appearance, or even the fact that they are superlative killers.
That watchful repose rouses suspicion, and this is not the first
time they've been accused of conspiracies, of keeping themselves
separate, of being loyal not to Queen and country, but to
themselves or in this case Solace Montjuste-Surclere. It's amazing
the impression a lack of casual chatter can make. If they behaved
more like humans, fidgeted and complained, schemed and drank,
bickered and laughed, they would be accepted far more readily, no
matter what they looked like."

"Yet their magi partners are so upset at
the idea of them being interrogated."

"Yes. I spent a brief period in the
Sentene, many years ago. My partner was Korion Asaka. I swear he
didn't say two unprompted words to me during our first five
assignments. Even when I asked him questions, his answers were so
brief I felt I was being rejected. But – he made it is his
business, first and foremost, to keep me alive. And I very quickly
started finding Korion a most reassuring presence, his silence
simply a part of his nature. After many assignments I was bold
enough to ask him why he did not speak more, and he told me, 'I
forget that I can'. It wasn't that he was blankly passive inside,
either; he simply rarely brought any of himself to the surface.
That is what the Kellian are. They behave the way they do not out
of any belief in their superiority, or dislike of humans, but
because smiling or laughing or even talking are not automatic
responses for them. It doesn't mean they don't feel, or that they
aren't proud, or loyal. There's not one among them who isn't
fiercely protective of Tyrland. Once they recognise that, most of
the Sentene mages grow very protective of the Kellian in
return."

"What's the Queen's attitude? She is
allowing this."

"The Queen – Her Majesty's reserve is
born out of their origin, I believe. The Kellian are a remnant of
the Montjuste-Surclere rule. And whatever else can be said of her,
there's few that will not acknowledge that Solace
Montjuste-Surclere had a right to her throne. When the children of
the original Kellian came to Tyrland, over one hundred years ago
now, they asked to be allowed to serve the kingdom. They consider
it their homeland. That was during a particularly bad outbreak of
Eferum-Get, and the King of that time saw the Kellian as useful to
his plans for a special force of hunters. And they
are
very
useful to the kingdom, invaluable. But the Montjustes have always
considered the Kellian a group with no loyalty to
them
."

"The uniform was specifically designed
to distract from those wearing it, wasn't it?" Rennyn had thought
as much. "Though from what I've seen of them, I'd say the Kellian
do keep themselves separate."

"To a degree," Lady Weston conceded.
"They are not human: they live longer than all but the most skilled
mages, their senses are sharper, they mature differently, respond
differently. Even after three hundred years, there are only some
sixty individuals. They will develop friendships and relationships
with humans, and very occasionally they marry outside their kind. I
believe they make an effort to avoid in-breeding. But to the casual
observer, they must seem a closed community."

"Sixty deadly people loyal to each
other," Rennyn said.

"Some are convinced that there is a
Kellian ruler dictating the decisions of the group, and the
re-emergence of the Black Queen only adds fuel to this fire. But
there is no conspiracy to be found, and no leaders. A kind of
unspoken accord, perhaps."