The Shadow Sorceress (4 page)

Secca opened her mouth, then shut it. After a moment, she said, “Thank you.”

“I do admit I thought of Lythner because he already has two sons and a daughter. Were you attracted to him, you would not…”

Secca nodded. “The choice would truly be mine and free. Thank you for that. After I return to Mencha, I will consider all you have said.”

“That is all I ask.” Robero continued walking until they reached the door to the guest chamber, where Achar still stood guard.

Secca turned. “Thank you.”

“Good dreams, Secca.”

Secca offered a tired smile before she slipped into the guest chamber, holding off yawning until she was alone. Lythner had a warm smile…and seemed like a good man—but did she really wish to settle for just a good man?

Abruptly, she stiffened. Why did she want to settle for any man? Anna certainly had not settled for just any man, and Jecks
had had to meet Anna's terms, not anyone else's. Why did Robero—or most of the lords and even the ladies of the Thirty-three—think that a woman wasn't happy without a man?

She shook her head, suddenly awake again, and wondering if she would soon sleep.

Still brushing the dust off her riding jacket, Secca hurried across the paving stones of the north courtyard and up the front steps into the arched front entry hall of Loiseau, cool and dim, and lit but by a single pair of wall lamps. Her boots echoed in the high-ceilinged hall as she made her way toward the second archway and the main staircase beyond. The spaciousness of Loiseau always amazed her when she returned.

“Lady Secca!”

At the sound of the voice, Secca stopped and turned.

The white-haired but energetic and round-faced Florenda hastened through the side archway from the formal dining hall to join the sorceress at the base of the staircase. “I thought that had to be you, riding in so late,” puffed the household head as she stopped and bowed.

“Is everything all right? How is Lady Anna?”

“She be fine, lady. She ate well, down in the salon with Richina and young Kerisel and Jeagyn. She, Lady Anna, was…she was telling Lizyrel that she'd better be careful with that young fellow of hers, because he took after his father.”

“That sounds like her.” Secca took a slow breath, relaxing slightly. She'd felt tense for the entire day's ride, and she'd been worrying the whole time about the extra day she'd taken on the
journey back to add another dek and a half to the road from Mencha to the Chean. Yet, if she didn't squeeze it in, she'd never finish it, because it wasn't something that she wanted to ride two days in order to put in a day's work and then ride two back. Nor did Secca wish to spend a week or so camping on the road to finish it, especially when neither Anna nor Robero liked the idea of the players being out of touch that long for roadwork, even though Robero also complained about the length of time it had taken to build the road system.

“She was fussing about something, but didn't say what. She's been doing that for years, and she will be after I'm long gone. You know the way she does.”

Secca did. “I'll go on up and see how she is. Is everything else all right?”

“Nothing that Halde 'n me couldn't handle.”

The sorceress smiled. There was very little the two couldn't handle between them. Still, she hurried up the wide stone stairs to the second level, her boots echoing on the stone steps and the stone floor of the upper corridor leading back to the main suite that was Anna's.

After a hurried knock, Secca bowed as she entered Anna's quarters. “Lady…”

Anna sat behind the small desk in the alcove in her quarters, appearing, as always, young and beautiful, blonde hair in perfect position, blue eyes firm and focused, and wearing her trademark green vest over a white silk tunic-shirt. “You seem to be no worse for the wear, or from the ride, Secca.” Anna smiled good-humoredly.

“I did take an extra day on the way back to add to the road.”

“You shouldn't have much left before it's done.”

“Six deks or so, I would judge.” Secca perched on the chest at the foot of the bed.

“Robero sent me a message.” Anna's smile turned sardonic. “About the unfortunate illness afflicting Kylar.”

“He did not become ill until I was gone several days from Issl. Robero informed me when I reached Elheld.”

“Heavens…I'm not unhappy with you, Secca.” Anna
shook her head. “Robero still doesn't have a grain of sense in that balding skull. Anyone could have read that scroll and figured out what he meant. What good would writing something like that do? Alyssa's not around for a week, and he's already in trouble. Robero has known for years, as well as we have, that Issl would have been a mess, worse than the revolt in Pamr, within seasons if Kylar had inherited the holding. But Robero still had to warn me, as if he didn't need the protection we provide.” The Sorceress-Protector snorted.

“You used the pool to find that out?”

“A little scrying won't hurt me. I'm not trying to see Elizabetta.” The touch of a frown remained on the unlined forehead as she continued, “I'd like you to try to call up her image tomorrow…when you're rested.”

“I can do that.” Secca managed to keep her voice level. Anna had never asked Secca to use the glass to bring up an image of the older sorceress's daughter. “Are you all right?”

“I'm fine. You're the one who's always telling me to be careful.” Anna paused, if but briefly, before asking, “How is our Lord of Defalk?” Her tone verged on the sarcastic, as it often did when she mentioned Robero.

“He was most cheerful. He set up a dinner for just three of us—me, him, and Lythner. Lythner's—”

“Lord Clethner's eldest. I know. Robero wrote about that, too. The smartest thing Clethner ever did was to consort Nerylt with Chelshay. Robero's trying to do the same for Lythner.”

“Lythner seems quite nice.”

Anna laughed. “I've always hated that word. Nice. It's like cute. Baby ducks are cute. Simpering idiots are nice.”

Secca couldn't help but laugh at Anna's phrases.

“Robero was sort of cute as a boy,” Anna went on. “He never grew out of it, not all the way,” mused Anna. “You're going to have to watch out for him.”

“Me? You'll be around—”

“For a few years, I hope, but not forever. Clayre's a good woman, but she's an old-style sorceress, and Jolyn…” Anna shrugged. “We know about her.”

“What are you worried about?” Secca shifted her weight on the footchest. She was sore from all the riding.

“I didn't sleep that well last night. I had this dream that the Harmonies were shifting. They weren't the Harmonies, exactly, either. I'm not sure it was a dream.” The ageless blue eyes focused on Secca. “You have to learn to trust how you feel.”

“I know. You've told me that…”

“Something's going to happen, and you'll be the one who'll have to deal with it. I can give you advice.”

Again, Secca wanted to frown. Anna had never talked that way about Secca being the one to deal with problems, especially major ones. That had been true even when Anna had sent Secca out to sing shadow sorcery or do the mining spells to get the iron and gold that sustained Loiseau. Anna had just told Secca what to do, as if each occasion had been an exception or a learning experience.

“Do you know what it is?” asked Secca.

The older sorceress shook her head. “With the Harmonies, you don't.”

“Robero?”

“No. It could be the Maitre of Sturinn. Jolyn sent a message about his sending more fleets to the Ostisles. Or it could be something in Ebra. Hadrenn's always been a weak reed. Or Dumar. Dumar's always bothered me, ever since Alvar died anyway.”

“Have you heard from Hanfor recently?”

“His younger daughter's happy with young Eryhal, but he still doesn't have a consort for Annayal, and she's the heir. He should have consorted Annayal to Eryhal, not Aerfor.” Anna paused, adding soberly, “It's hard to find a good match. If Robero's boy Robal were even five years older…but he's not. Maybe Verad, that younger son of Hadrenn.”

Secca waited, then asked, “Is there anything you need from me tonight?”

Anna smiled, warmly. “Not a thing. I'm glad you're back safely. I do still worry, even at your age.”

“At more than a score and a half?”

“You never get over it, Secca.” Anna rose and stepped from
behind the desk. “Go on. You're tired. I can see it in your eyes. They're almost pink. I won't be up that much longer myself.”

Secca eased herself up from the chest, then stepped forward and hugged Anna. Then, with a smile, Secca turned and slipped from the room, somehow both relieved to see Anna in such good spirits, and slightly troubled by what the older sorceress had said.

Trouble with the Harmonies?

Secca reined up the chestnut outside the domed sorcery building to the south of the main keep of Loiseau. Vyren—the head ostler—had insisted Secca take the chestnut and give the gray mare she preferred a rest, even if the ride down to the outbuilding was little more than half a dek. As she dismounted, Secca glanced at the saddled raider mount tied outside the domed sorcery building, then at the pair of guards who had straightened at her arrival.

“Lady Anna must have been up early,” she said. Usually Anna was anything but someone who rose early.

“She said she couldn't sleep, Lady Secca, and might as well do something useful,” said Mureyn, the older of the two guards in the green of Loiseau.

That did sound just like Anna, reflected Secca with a brief smile. “Richina should be here shortly, and the players later.”

“Yes, lady.”

Secca slipped into the building, closing the door behind her and walking down the corridor toward the room that held the scrying pool—and the area where she and Anna usually worked. The building was silent except for the muted echo of Secca's boots. Secca paused. Never had it been so still, or so it seemed.

She opened the door to the scrying room, and the pool.

“Anna!”

The blonde and slender form of the older sorceress lay slumped across the working desk. A quill lay on the stone floor beside the desk. Secca ran the few steps to the desk and bent, touching Anna's forehead—still warm. Anna was breathing, but so lightly that Secca had trouble discerning that.

She eased Anna out of the chair and laid her gently on her back on the floor.

Anna's eyes opened. “No…Darksong…once…enough.” Then her eyes flicked shut.

Secca knelt and listened, but Anna continued to breathe lightly. The younger sorceress straightened and ran back to the door, and then along the corridor and out to the front of the building, bursting out into the early morning light of the fall day.

“Get the carriage!” Secca snapped. “Lady Anna is most ill! Get Richina to help me!”

“Yes, lady!” Mureyn untied his mount and swung up into the saddle, urging the bay gelding back toward the keep.

Secca turned to the other guard—the young-faced one. Albar, she thought. “Let me know when the carriage comes. I'll be with her by the scrying pond. Send Richina to me as soon as she gets here.”

Even before Albar could respond, Secca had turned and rushed back to be with Anna.

The Sorceress-Protector was yet breathing when Secca returned, perhaps more strongly. As Secca bent over Anna again, she listened to her mentor's heartbeat, but could hear nothing irregular, although the beating seemed faint. Nor could she find any sign of any wound, or bruise, or any injury.

“Lady Secca?” Albar stood in the door. “The carriage is here, and I can see Richina riding down from the keep.”

Without even a thought, Secca bent and lifted Anna into her arms—the older sorceress's form was so light—and carried her down the corridor.

Mureyn stepped forward as she neared the outer door and helped Secca through the door, and then to ease Anna into the waiting carriage—the blue-lacquered carriage created more than
a generation earlier by Lord Brill, seldom used, and still in close-to-pristine condition.

“We didn't know, lady…we didn't know.” Mureyn's eyes were bright.

“You couldn't have known.” Secca managed to choke out the words.

Richina reined up beside the carriage. The apprentice's sandy-blonde hair was disheveled, her eyes wide. “Lady Secca!”

“She's most ill. Ride back to the house. Have her bed ready. We'll need some help getting her up there.”

“Yes, lady.” Richina turned her mount.

Secca slid into the carriage, and Mureyn closed the door behind her.

As the carriage began to move, Secca's eyes burned, and her nose itched from the faintly musty smell of the old velvet upholstery. She bent over Anna again, but the sorceress was still breathing, lightly but regularly.

Secca could not help but wonder what had happened. There had been no sign of sorcery. Anna's lutar had been nowhere in sight, and the strong room with the notebooks had still been sealed. Anna wouldn't have tried even mild scrying without a lutar.

Secca glanced at Anna again, through the burning of unshed tears, willing the carriage to move more quickly, hoping that Anna had merely fainted, and that rest was all she needed.

But, thinking about all that Anna had said the night before, Secca's eyes burned as the carriage rolled up the paved road toward the main buildings of the hold.

Although it was after harvest and the sun hung just over the western walls of Loiseau, ready to set, the Sorceress-Protector's room was warm, not just from the sun, but from the heated air coming through the louvers underneath the windows.

The breathing of the young-appearing sorceress on the high bed was shallow, becoming intermittent at times before returning to an irregular pattern. Anna had scarcely moved since she had been laid in the bed by Secca, and her hair remained fine, blonde, almost like spun gold, and still almost perfectly in place. Her eyes were closed, but had they been open, their piercing blue would have dominated the chamber. Her face was thin and drawn, and her figure was so slender, almost tiny, that it looked more like that of a young girl before maturity than that of a sorceress who had dominated Defalk for more than a score of years.

Secca sat in a blue-lacquered and delicate-appearing chair at the side of the bed. She held the dying woman's hand in her own, swallowing as the older sorceress's breathing lapsed into silence for a moment before resuming once more.

“So…tired…promise me…no Darksong…no spells,” Anna had whispered less than a half a glass before. “Defalk…everyone…they need you…more than me.”

Nodding agreement had been hard for Secca, but she had, and now she waited, her guts tied into knots, her eyes burning, wondering why she had offered that promise.

“…won't be long…” The smile on the drawn face of the sorceress had been more a rictus than a true expression. “Eliza
betta…got…my last letter…told her…be the last…didn't tell you…tried to…last night…”

Every time Anna had sent a missive across the void to the Mist Worlds, it shortened her life. That had been the one thing about which Secca and Anna had always disagreed, but Anna had been adamant, her only concessions having been limiting the frequency of such spell-transmissions and letting Secca sing the spells to retrieve Elizabetta's missives.

The effort of merely retrieving those missives had prostrated Secca, leaving her exhausted for one to two days, even despite her comparative youth, and the effect reminded her how short she fell of the sheer power that Anna had been able to bring to her sorcery. Yet Anna had insisted that using Clearsong to cross the Mist Worlds was easier for her than for those born in Liedwahr, and that the trio—Secca, Clayre, and Jolyn—were as powerful as Anna had been.

At the slightest whisper of a knock on the door, Secca turned in the chair.

Richina slipped just inside the door. The sandy-haired young woman, although but a few years more than a girl, stood nearly a head taller than Secca. Richina's face was blotchy, and her green eyes were reddened.

Touching her finger to her lips, Secca nodded for Richina to join her, waiting until the apprentice sorceress stood next to the chair.

Richina bent and whispered. “There's so little left. I can sense it. Can I do anything…please?”

Secca shook her head, murmuring back. “She's forbidden it, and it won't change anything. I don't even think Darksong would work.”

“It's unfair,” replied Richina in a whisper.

“Life is unfair, child,” said the dying woman, her voice momentarily strong, her eyes opening for a moment and fixing on the pair beside her bed, before they slowly closed. “Don't…ask…for fairness…create it.”

“Her mind is all there,” murmured the apprentice, “but the Harmonies are leaving.”

Secca nodded. “You can stay.”

Her eyes burning, Secca looked at the dying sorceress again, squeezing Anna's hand ever so gently, trying to let Anna know that she was there. Sometimes the slim and smooth fingers offered the faintest pressure back, but most of the time Anna's hand was limp, cool, but not cold. Not yet.

Secca swallowed again, blinking back tears, sensing, knowing that there was nothing she could do—not that Anna would have accepted.

So light was Anna's breathing that Secca hadn't been certain she would know when the pale blonde woman on the high bed stopped breathing.

She needn't have worried…because a long and low chord, perfect in harmony, filled the room, if but for a timeless instant. Even the sorcery-warmed air flowing from the window louvers halted for a moment.

Secca stood, bent forward, and offered a last kiss.

She found she wasn't crying. Perhaps the time for tears had been earlier, after she had found Anna collapsed beside the reflecting pool in the domed building that had been the elder sorceress's working space. Secca had brought Anna back to her chamber, fearing the worst, as it had happened.

There would be more tears later. That she also knew.

Richina was standing at the foot of the bed, sobbing silently.

Behind the sorceress and the apprentice, the door opened quietly.

The red-haired sorceress turned. So did Richina.

Two figures stood in the doorway—the graying saalmeister Halde and the white-haired household head Florenda.

“We heard…like a single note of farewell.” Florenda's voice broke on the last word.

Halde nodded. He swallowed wordlessly.

Secca returned the nod. Richina also swallowed, blotting her eyes.

The four stood in silence, a long silence following a single harmonic chord that had announced a great loss to Erde, a loss so great that even those who had never heard the chords of Harmony had done so.