Triplet

Chapter 30

"I didn't mean to kill him," Danae sniffed from Ravagin's arms when she was able to talk again. "Not that way. I thought he would invoke a dazzler, not a firebrat. I really did."

Ravagin nodded silently, wincing a bit as the movement rubbed his singed cheek against Danae's hair. They'd been sitting here together by this shed near the stable for nearly a quarter hour now, and if there were any words that would help her work through the horror and guilt she was feeling, he'd about given up finding them. At least she never actually had to see him burning to death, he thought.

Unfortunately, he had, and the memory made him shudder.

"Ravagin?" Danae asked, holding him a bit closer. "You okay? You shivered."

"I'm fine. Look, Danae... it wasn't your fault. It really wasn't. You had no way of knowing I was only half a hallway behind him and that he would put that firebrat in the doorway to try and block my approach."

She inhaled suddenly. "You—it was right in the doorway? You didn't tell me that before."

"It's okay," he hastened to assure her. "I only got a little scorched. Probably got off a lot easier than I would have in a straight fight with him. Try remembering that, if it helps—he didn't just come in for a friendly chat. He was there to kill us."

"I know, and I'll be all right in a minute. It's just that... I've never had a hand in killing anyone before."

He nodded understanding. "Just keep remembering that everything you did was in self-defense.

You're damned lucky he didn't skewer you when you threw that blanket over his head."

"I didn't throw it." She sniffed again, but her trembling had eased and it was clear she was starting to regain control of herself. "I wedged its corners into cracks in the ceiling with splinters from the window shutters, with threads from the other blanket set to pull it down when the door opened. Sort of like a homeowner's security tangler net, you know? I thought he'd invoke a dazzler behind him, and that when I pushed him back with the chair he'd wind up with it under the blanket and right in his eyes and then he'd be as blind as I was—" She broke off, took a deep breath. "We've been through all this, haven't we? Sorry. What's happening out there? It sounds like the crowd's breaking up."

Ravagin leaned forward to look around the shed at the inn's main door. "You're right. Looks like some of the guests have already gone back inside. The—oops, there's the innkeeper... I think he's telling the rest it's safe enough to go back inside. Must have gotten a fireplate under the firebrat."

"And gotten the water shut off? What was that extra phrase you added to the nixie invocation, anyway?"

"A time limit. If I'd done a normal invocation I'd either have had to go in and personally release it or it would have stayed there pumping water into the room for the next five hours. With the ten-minute limit I gave it—well, it's already long gone."

"Um. They didn't teach us that one."

"They never do. It's assumed you won't need it."

For a minute the only sounds were the faint commotion still coming from the direction of the inn and the even fainter hum of the lar sweeping its protective circle at their backs. Protection; and the word brought a sour taste to Ravagin's mouth. He'd promised to protect Danae—had told her explicitly that he would find the spy and kill him. She'd believed him... and had wound up having to take the brunt of the attack anyway.

And the brunt of the guilt for the way things had turned out. I should have let Hart stay with her while I played decoy, he thought bitterly. He's the one trained for this sort of thing, not me. I wish to hell I'd thought to suggest it to him...

"I think he was spirit-possessed," Danae broke into his thoughts.

"He—? Oh. Why do you think that?"

"There was the same sort of hissing when he was walking down the hall that I heard when the djinn was flying around. Unless the djinn was with him?"

Ravagin shook his head, the knot in his stomach tightening another half turn. So that was why...

"No, there weren't any spirits in sight, at least not when I could see him." He hesitated; but the knowledge might make her conscience rest a little easier. "But that might explain why he just stood there and let himself be burned to death instead of rolling away from the firebrat."

"You mean the demon had his brain so fogged he couldn't think even that well?"

"No. I mean that the spirit held him there. Deliberately."

He felt her stiffen beside him. "You can't be serious. Why would it do something like that?"

"To get away. If the spirit had just left him, the situation would have been as if it'd been freshly invoked, and it would have been stuck around here for anything up to several hours."

"And could have continued the attack on us."

"Unless it'd finally tumbled to the fact that we were invisible to it. In that case, it would do better to get back to the spirit world as quickly as possible and blow the whistle on us."

A shudder went through Danae's body. "Oh, God," she whispered. "If you kill an animal that has a spirit bound to it... the spirit's released. Are you saying—? Oh, God, that's horrible."

He nodded and held her a little more tightly. "They want us, Danae. They want us so badly they're willing to sacrifice major parts of their own conquest machine to get us."

"But why? What is it we know that's got them so frightened?"

"I don't know," Ravagin sighed. "The only thing that makes sense is that idea you had that they've found a way to get past the Tunnel and are trying to invade Shamsheer."

"But there isn't any way for them to do that. We already decided that, remember?"

"Yes, well, it's starting to look more and more like we were wrong. But we can discuss that later. For now, our more immediate problem is to stay alive."

Danae took a deep breath. "Agreed. So what do we do next? How soon will Melentha know about our invisibility?"

"Depends on how communication works in the fourth world, I guess," he shrugged. "If the spirit who just left here can pass the message on to any of the other spirits, then as soon as Melentha invokes one of them the word'll be out. If she has to invoke this particular spirit—which would require that she knows what its name is—we could be sipping drinks on Threshold before she catches on."

"I don't think I'd bet on that last one."

"Me neither." Ravagin took a moment to study the sky. Another four or five hours until dawn; well within a hard ride from the Besak way house. "I wish we had a real choice, but I'm afraid we don't.

The spirits can't get to us without someone around to invoke them, but once Melentha knows where we are she can probably get her agents here before the inn's lar is released. Ergo, we need to leave before that."

A sound that was half laugh and half bark escaped Danae's lips. "I almost tried that on my own, earlier tonight. Deja vu strikes again. I'm game for it—Karyx at night can't be any worse than what Melentha will be throwing at us. You know any ways to get past a lar?"

"Depends on whether it has to detect us to stop us. In this case, though, there's an easier way. If we can risk using it." Ravagin bit at his lip, thinking. "Yeah, the benefits outweigh the risks. How are your eyes doing?"

"About the same as before. I don't... I don't know if I can stand another day out in the sunlight, Ravagin."

He pursed his lips. "Well, if we can cover enough distance before dawn, I think I can find a way to keep you under cover for most of tomorrow. Stay here; I'll be right back."

She nodded—too weary, he thought, to even be afraid of further attacks. Disengaging his arm from around her, he got to his feet and headed over to the inn.

The innkeeper was still outside the door, talking in low tones to two of the guests. All three looked at Ravagin as he approached, the innkeeper with a wary sort of anger in his expression. He opened his mouth, presumably to demand an explanation—

"Innkeeper," Ravagin nodded shortly. "Am I to assume it is common practice in these parts for the master of an inn to permit one of his guests to attack another?"

The innkeeper's eyes bulged, whatever he was about to say dying halfway out. But he recovered fast.

"If there is any death-blame to be had, sir, it seems to me that you are the one who still lives—"

"The man burned to death on his own firebrat," Ravagin interrupted harshly, "while he was attempting to murder my companion. Your door had no lock and no bar—"

"With the lar about the grounds—"

"The lar failed to keep him out, did it not? And furthermore, you had no provision for the danger of fire—without the nixie which I invoked your entire inn might have burned to the ground."

The innkeeper clamped his jaw closed. "If you expect gratitude, you are sorely mistaken," he bit out.

"Whatever your quarrel with the dead man, you brought it upon yourselves. I have no doubt the magistrates of Findral will find it so when your grievance is laid before them."

Deliberately, Ravagin looked in turn at each of the two men listening to the debate. After a moment both seemed to take the hint and drifted off back into the inn. "Now, then," Ravagin said when he and the innkeeper were alone. "Between honest and fair-minded men there is surely no need to bring in magistrates."

The other snorted; but it was abundantly clear from his face that he wasn't nearly as certain of his case's merits as he'd claimed to be. "If you expect to extort unfair compensation from a poor man, the results will disappoint you."

"I seek no such extortion," Ravagin assured him. "Nor do I threaten you," he added as the other's eyes slipped momentarily to the short sword at Ravagin's waist. "I seek only your cooperation in what is already due me."

That elicited another snort. "What is due you, save lodging for the night?"

"And breakfast in the morning. I have already paid you for that, if you recall."

The other blinked in surprise. "Then what is this all about?" he demanded. "Breakfast will be served at sunup."

"Ah—and that is what this is all about. I would like my breakfast right now, packaged for travel."

"For—? And where do you propose to go traveling at this hour? The stable?"

"I propose to go out," Ravagin told him calmly. "For this you will need to release your lar."

The innkeeper had a lot of other things on his mind, but even so that one seemed to hit him right across the face. "You want what?" he all but shouted before he could catch himself and lower his voice. "I cannot do that!" he hissed. "My guests—the safety of my inn—"

"I have no time for an argument," Ravagin cut him off, putting an edge of icy steel into his tone.

"This unwarranted attack has worsened my companion's condition, and I must ride out to seek aid for her. Or will your magistrates claim that forcing the ill to suffer unnecessarily is also within an innkeeper's rights?"

The other clamped his jaw tightly. "I will have the meal prepared immediately," he growled.

"Good. And I will need another room for my companion, at least until the firebrat in our old one vanishes. Without charge, of course."

For a moment it looked like the innkeeper was going to argue that one. But with a sharp nod he turned and disappeared into the inn.

Twenty minutes later, the packed provisions on his back, Ravagin sat astride his horse at the western edge of the protective circle. "All right," he said. "You may release the lar."

"Are you certain you wish to do this?" the innkeeper standing beside him asked nervously. "You will be unable to reach anyone in Findral until their own lar is released at dawn."

"Then I will have to bypass Findral and find aid from one of the spiritmasters who live alone beyond the village," Ravagin told him shortly. "Whatever I do, it is my business. Your only concern in this matter now is to make sure my companion is provided with the quiet and rest she needs. If you think that beyond your skills, tell me now and I will take her to someone who possesses such abilities." It was impossible to tell in the dim light, but Ravagin thought the innkeeper's face went red. Turning stiffly toward the humming mist ahead, he held out a hand. "Carash-melanasta!" he snarled—

And the humming stopped.

"Farewell," Ravagin said, nudging his horse forward. The other didn't answer; he was already hurrying back toward the inn, where he needed to stand to ensure the lar he would be invoking would encircle the entire grounds. Smiling tightly, Ravagin continued on, heading back toward the Besak-Findral road. A short ways from the inn there was a slight rise; on the far side of it, out of sight from prying eyes, he reined to a halt. And waited, sweating, for about a thousand years. But finally, he heard the approaching footsteps, and a couple of minutes later Danae was back in the saddle with him. "Any trouble?" he asked her, kicking the horse into a fast trot.

She shook her head. "It was a longer drop from the window than I expected, though."

"Sorry. I couldn't think of a good excuse to lose the innkeeper for a minute to come around and catch you."

"Oh, that's okay." She paused. "You really think it'll fool them?"

"Probably not," he admitted. "On the other hand, we lost nothing by trying it. If they send a scout ahead of the main force, the innkeeper can honestly tell them that only one of us has left. Not a particularly opaque deception, but with Hart already having split off on his own, they may conclude that you and I have done the same thing. If it makes them concentrate some of their strength on the inn longer than they have to, we'll have gained a bit."

"And if they don't fall for it?"

He shrugged. "We reach the confrontation sooner. That's all there is to it."

She sighed and fell silent, and Ravagin settled back into the increasingly familiar pattern of riding and watching. Around them, Karyx was alive with the subtle sounds of night... the sounds of night, and all the dangers that accompanied them.

It was, he knew, going to be a long ride.