Masques (Sianim #1)(53)

"East and north, never closer than ten miles. Do you know anything about dragons? Something along the lines of whether or not they eat people would be helpful," said Myr in a hopeful tone, sitting down on one arm of the couch.

"'Fraid not. The only ones that I've heard of are in stories where, for some reason, they seem to only eat virgins chained to rocks. Since I haven't heard of anyplace nearby where there is a steady supply of virgins chained to rocks, I would suppose that it is a safe bet that this one has differing dietary requirements," she answered in a dry tone, and then nodded at Wolf. "Why don't you ask the magical expert around here?"

Wolf shrugged. "The closest that I've ever gotten to one was the one asleep in the cave underneath the ae'Magi's castle. Since it had been asleep for several centuries, I didn't learn much. I thought, though, that it was supposed to be the last of its kind - the reason that it was ensorcelled rather than killed."

"Well," said Myr with a lifted eyebrow, "if this creature isn't a dragon, then it is closely related. I'm not too sure that I'm comfortable with it being so close."

"Maybe it'll eat the nobles that are giving you such a bad time," suggested Aralorn. "You might try chaining them to a rock."

She found that she was starting to get tired, so she leaned back against a cushion and closed her eyes. She didn't sleep but drifted quietly, listening to the others talk quietly. She found it comforting. There was something she wanted to ask. She sat up abruptly when she remembered what it was.

"Astrid," she said, interrupting them in the middle of a discussion on the best method of drying meat. "Did someone find her?"

"I did," replied Wolf, "or what was left of her after the Uriah finished."

Aralorn swallowed, and in a hoarse voice not at all like her own she asked, "Will she ..."

"Will she what?" asked Myr.

Aralorn watched her hand as il traced patterns in the quilt and asked in a low voice, "Will she become one of them, now?"

Myr started as if to say something, but held back, wanting to hear Wolf's answer first.

"No," answered the ae'Magi's son. "There is a ritual that must be followed to turn men into Uriah. She was simply eaten."

She spoke in a monotone, still not looking up. "I'd always heard that they were the creation of some long-forgotten magician who left them to infest the Eastern Swamp - protecting something hidden there. I assumed that the ae'Magi just found some way of controlling them."

"He found out how to control them, yes. He also found out how to make them - it was in the same book." Wolf reached casually to a shelf near Myr's head and pulled a thin ratty volume out of a shelf. "This book, as a matter of fact."

Myr looked over Aralorn's bent head to meet Wolf's eyes. "That's why you put the stone over the guard's graves."

Wolf nodded, replacing the book in the shelf. "The runes that Aralorn traced over the bodies, and the fact that Edom hadn't completed the ritual - the heart must be eaten - should ensure that they rest quietly. I just didn't want to take chances."

Aralorn spoke almost to herself. "Talor was one of them. I heard Talor's signal - he was always a little off pitch. I thought that he was caught by the Uriah and needed help." Her hands gripped the quilt with white knuckles although her voice was calm. "I guess that was more or less the case, but there was no way that I could help him."

Scenes she had suppressed whipped violently through her mind like a madman's dream. They were without sound, because a violent blow to her head had set up a buzzing clamor that eclipsed any other sound. There were more faces that she knew, viewed from the thing that had been Talor's back. Twisted and rotted almost beyond recognition she saw the faces of friends, comrades-in-arms.

A sharp sting on her cheek brought her back, shaking and gasping. Wolf sat on the couch beside her, and she buried her head against his shoulder and shuddered dry-eyed, grateful for the firm arms wrapped around her back.

"The worst of it was, he knew me," she whispered. "It was still Talor, but he was one of them. He talked to me, but he looked at me like a farmer looks at dinner after a hard day's work. I didn't even know that Uriah could talk." Then, with difficulty, because she didn't have much practice, she cried.

Myr took Wolf's cloak and covered her back where the quilt left her exposed. He touched her hair a little awkwardly and said quietly to Wolf, "She won't appreciate my presence when she recovers. I'll tell the others that she's well. Stanis has been blaming himself for her capture - he won't eat. It will be a weight off his back to find out that she's been rescued and is here unhurt."

Wolf nodded and watched him go. He rocked Aralorn gently and whispered soft reassurances. He was concentrating on her, so that the voice took him by surprise.

"Tell her to stop that."

Wolf brought his head up, alarmed at the strange voice. It was heavily accented and firmly masculine if a bit fussy. It also didn't seem to come from anywhere, or rather there was no one where the voice came from.

"Tell her to stop that, I said. She's driven Lys away, and I simply won't abide that. I have allowed her here because Lys likes her - but now she's made Lys go away by thinking of all of those bad things. Tell her to stop it, or I will have to ask her to leave no matter what Lys says." The voice lost a little of its firmness and became sulky.