The Shattered Mask

Chapter 14

Had Nuldrevyn not already known it was morning, he could never have divined it from looking into Marance's suite. With the heavy, musty-spelling draperies still covering the windows, the hearth cold, and only a pair of candles burning, the parlor was as gloomy and chilly as ever.

The Talendar patriarch supposed he should have been glad of that, for he'd wanted his resurrected brother to dwell here discreetly, without doing anything to reveal his presence. Now he wished the chamber seemed a bit more like the abode of a living man and rather less like a tomb.

Marance himself sat before a chess table, the edges of the board set with the dusty, colorless crystals that adorned so many articles in the room. Fingering one of the ebony rooks, he was evidently playing a game against himself, albeit with the distracted air of a man who was devoting most of his thought to weightier matters. Meanwhile, occupying one of the divans, the loathsome Bileworm was a writhing, contorting mass, constantly shifting from one twisted, crippled-looking shape to another for some purpose Nuldrevyn couldn't comprehend, unless it was merely the familiar's amusement.

After a moment, both occupants of the suite sensed the presence of the visitors standing at the doorway. Marance turned, and, rising, gave his brother and nephew a smile. Bileworm rearranged his tangled substance into something more nearly resembling the shadow of a human being. "Come in, kinsmen," Marance said. "Sit down." Nuldrevyn kept a wary eye on Bileworm as he settled onto his chair, making sure the spirit wouldn't attempt another prank. As if divining his erstwhile victim's thoughts, the familiar gave him a leer.

"Can I pour you some wine?" Marance asked. "Thank you, no," Nuldrevyn said. "Brother, we need to talk."

The wizard arched an eyebrow. "That sounds ominous." "I don't mean it to," Nuldrevyn replied. "It's just that I'm concerned about what happened yesterday."

"Because my prey eluded me?" Marance strolled back to the chess table and retrieved his staff. "Then in all candor, I have to say that if I were you, I could find it in my heart to be patient. After I died, you had thirty years to exterminate the Uskevren, and you never succeeded in killing a single one of them. I've only been back in the world of the living for a few weeks, and already I've accounted for Thamakm and Shamur. And I would have bagged the youngsters yesterday, except for the Uskevren family mage. He was a better spellcaster than I expected, but he's out of the picture now."

"I don't think Father is upset that you haven't killed Thamalon the Second and the others yet," said Ossian, a bit diffidently. "Rather, he has concerns about your methods." "Indeed," Marance said. "Then speak on, Nuldrevyn. I never close my ears to sound advice."

"I wasn't happy with that attack you conducted in broad daylight on a public street," Nuldrevyn said, "but it wasn't entirely reckless, so I held my tongue."

Bileworm opened his mouth, stuck out a waggling length of shadow stuff three feet long, and grabbed it with both hands.

"Stop that," Marance rapped, and the spirit obeyed. "As usual, brother, I apologize for my idiot servant's impudence. You were saying?"

"I feel that the attack inside the theater was too reckless," Nuldrevyn continued doggedly. "Your bravos and spiders hurt a number of innocent people."

Marance shrugged. "Since no one knows to hold the House of Talendar accountable, what difference does it make?"

"None, perhaps," Nuldrevyn said, "but my concern is that if matters had fallen out just a little differently, someone could have linked our family to the assault." The mage frowned. "I don't see how." "One of your henchmen could have been captured and interrogated," Nuldrevyn said.

"It wouldn't have mattered," Marance said. "They didn't know who I was. They didn't even know who Ossian was, correct?" He turned to the younger man for confirmation. "That's true," Ossian admitted.

Smiling his gentle little smile, Marance pivoted back toward Nuldrevyn. "You see? The lad knows what he's about, and thanks to his circumspection, no one could possibly follow the thread that leads from the bullies to us."

"Perhaps," Nuldrevyn said, "but when you entered that theater, you were venturing into a crowd. What if someone had stabbed you in the back, or snatched off your mask?"

Marance shook his head. "Now you're being silly. I know how to handle myself, and even if I didn't, I was flying through the air well out of people's reach for nearly the entire time."

"Well, what if someone had gotten a good look at those white eyes of yours?"

"It wouldn't have mattered," Marance replied. "Your hypothetical observer still wouldn't have recognized me, nor would anyone to whom he spoke. I've heen dead thirty years, Nuldrevyn. No one remembers me anymore. Even Thamalon, my slayer, couldn't place me."

"Maybe not," the old man said, "but I still think it would be wise for you to lay low." "Lay low?" Marance repeated.

"Just for a little while," Ossian said quickly, "until the uproar over the attack on the playhouse dies down, and people stop looking for the man responsible."

"Such a delay is unnecessary," Marance said, "and I'm afraid it's unacceptable as well. I've waited a long time for my revenge. I don't intend to wait any longer."

"You've already killed Thamalon and Shamur," said Nuldrevyn. "Surely that was the main thing."

"Yes," said Marance, "but it wasn't the whole thing, nor will it be until the House of Uskevren is extinct."

"I promise," said Ossian, "we'll rid ourselves of Tamlin and his sibs eventually.

"I wonder if you could," Marance replied. "So far, they haven't turned out to be the dimwitted weaklings I was led to expect, and in any case, lad, you aren't hearing me. The Uskevren have to die by my hand, now, before my liege calls me back to the Iron City."

Nuldrevyn grimaced. "It's just that Ossian and I are worried-"

"To perdition with your worries," Marance said. "Don't you think you owe me this bit of satisfaction?"

Nuldrevyn hesitated. "I don't know what you mean."

'That's because I've never reproached you with it," Marance said. "But I told you that after Thamalon cut open my belly, it took me a long, excruciating time to succumb to my wound, a period during which I waited in vain for my brother to ride back to look for me. Had you done so, you might well have been able to save my life."

Nuldrevyn gaped at his brother in horror. "After Thamalon and his men broke our company, all was confusion. I didn't see what happened to you, and assumed you were either dead or fleeing for your life like the rest of us survivors. Surely you know that if I'd had any inkling you needed me, I would have dared any peril to reach you!"

"If so," Marance replied, "then you should be equally keen to help me now. Are you?"

As Nuldrevyn gazed into the wizard's peculiar eyes, he felt a frisson of unease. He told himself it was nonsense. Dead and damned though he might be, Marance remained his brother and would never hurt him. Still, though it shamed him, he found himself reluctant to put his faith to the test.

"Of course I want to help you," the old man said. "Destroy Thamalon's get and we'll all dance on their graves. I just needed to make sure you intend to be careful."

"Absolutely," Marance said. "Even if I didn't wish to shield you, I would still have excellent reason to watch my step. What do you think would happen if someone here in the mortal realm killed me a second time?"

"I don't know," Nuldrevyn replied. "I wasn't even sure you could be killed. Wouldn't you simply go back to being a grandee in the netherworld? Or rise to attack the Uskevren once more?"

"Alas, no," the wizard said. "I have it on good authority that I'd turn back into a larva frying in a fire pit, and I daresay my rivals at court, baatezu lords who resent the fact that a human has risen to their level, would make very sure that I never escaped the flames or my uncouth shape again."

The wizard smiled. "But rest assured, neither you nor I are going to find ourselves embarrassed in that way or any other. My next ploy will carry our little campaign of vengeance to a successful conclusion. For while I was meditating, it suddenly came to me that I possess the means to destroy all three of Thamalon's cubs with a single stroke." He reached inside his mantle and produced a silver and sapphire brooch. "It's wonderful how the dark powers guide our hands, don't you think, even when we imagine we're doing something as inconsequential as picking up a souvenir."