Talion Revenant

  Lady Cosima stood beside the Master and frowned disapprovingly at the book he was reading. The small book had a black binding that looked like lizard skin with gold-leaf lettering, but both were so alien that I was unsure of what they really were. She took the slender tome from him, laid it on the table, then gently pushed it down and out of sight.

  My skin crawled, but she ignored my reaction. "Nolan, concentrate and turn inside. Reach inside yourself and seek the rhasa. Find it, feel it, learn where it is. The Skull locks them away in a different prison from the one it uses to hold unclean souls."

  I filled my lungs and let the breath out slowly. I closed my eyes and withdrew attention from outside impressions and senses. Unconsciously I stabilized my balance, then went in and located the rhasa. Searching it out was not difficult, because it burned like a beacon. I found it, touched it, and knew I could call it instantly. Secure in this knowledge, I came back out and nodded to the Wizard.

  "Lay your hand on the rodent and gently push the soul into it." She spoke slowly and easily to let me preserve the sense of tranquility in my mind.

  I reached out and touched the moist, soft fur. I settled my hand around it and called to the soul. I felt it trickle down my arm and out through my palm.

  The rat started breathing!

  My hand recoiled as if I'd been bitten. The rat's whiskers twitched and its eyelids fluttered. Muscles contracted and limbs jerked; then it rolled onto its paws and sat up to sniff the air.

  "It's alive!" The words escaped me and earned a harsh frown from Lady Cosima.

  "Alive it is not! It is nekkeht. It breathes because the body remembers how to do that, but it does not need air." As if to defy her, the rat dropped to all fours and waddled to the cup of water Catalin had earlier placed on the table. It drank, then sat up again and watched us.

  I narrowed my eyes. "It breathes and drinks."

  She shook her head vehemently. "It is not alive, and if you assume any nekkeht is alive, you will be slain by it." She flicked her fingers above it, as if passing a knife through unseen puppet strings, and the rat's head slumped forward. She'd undone the healing to its neck, but it did not die again. The whiskers still twitched. It turned and scuttled along. Its body pushed a twisted head before it and one eye stared up at us.

  The Darkmaze dread sent a shiver through me. "I understand, it is not alive."

  She stabbed a finger into my shoulder. "Understand this: the nekkeht you hunt can be hidden beneath the Runt Sea until he chooses to appear. If his neck was broken"—she gestured casually at the rat—"he could repair it in an instant. Deal with it as you dealt with the nekkeht this morning and it will destroy you."

  She reached down with her right hand, touched the rat, and it flopped lifeless to the table. She raised her right hand and showed me the Skull. She had destroyed the nekkeht, and was now Sharul. Our audience was at an end, but I understood now, more than ever before, the importance and dangerousness of my mission.

  The Master preceded me from the room and brought us back to his chamber by a very short route. "Nolan, do not let yourself be overwhelmed by the illusions and tricks she or Catalin played in there. Despite being Talions, they are Wizards. With many of those who work magick there is a greater allegiance to their art than there is to anything in this world."

  I scowled, but the Master barely paused. "Take, for example, teleportation. You have to fly a Hawk to Hamis because the Wizards tell us no living creature can survive teleportation. And I have seen demonstrations, with mice or rats, where translocating the creature from one side of a table to another results in a dead beast frozen solid."

  I shook my head. "I don't understand."

  The Master mounted his throne, and His Excellency took up the explanation. "How do we know the Wizards do not just freeze the creature, then move it? How, if teleportation does not work, can Wizards manage to travel great distances in a handful of hours?"

  The Master smiled. "You see, Nolan, we can only believe what the Wizards tell us. Your new clothing will be teleported to Hamis while you fly there. Because they tell us teleportation is difficult, and can only be accomplished between certain points on the continent, teleportation is expensive and used sparingly. Imagine, though, what would happen if teleportation worked easily and anywhere."

  I smiled with understanding. "There would be no need for ships or caravans. Trade routes would no longer exist and hundreds of cities would die. Wizards would be in great demand, and would spend most of their time teleporting armies behind other armies. There would be utter chaos."

  The Master nodded. "There you have it. The Wizards have to protect their world, and they do that by protecting their art." He stepped back down and cut himself a slice of the cheese. "Now, I do believe teleportation will kill living things, but it is important to remember that where magick is concerned, nothing can accurately be described as impossible."

  He popped the cheese into his mouth, chewed twice, and swallowed hard. "It must be an acquired taste. I do not envy you this assignment."

  The Master looked over at His Excellency, who shook his head, then turned back to me. "Nolan, you leave in the morning. King Tirrell is the bait to trap the nekkeht, but I do not want him killed if at all possible. The plotters are expendable, no matter who they are. Spend the rest of the day working in the library on building your background story. I suggest a rumored stint with some Darkesh bandits to explain your weapons skill."

  I nodded and rose to leave.

  "One more thing, Nolan."

  "Yes?"

  "Your hand." The Master raised his right palm and showed me his Skull.

  I winced, and was very glad Lord Eric had not returned. I almost started out disguised as a noble with a death's-head on his palm. That would fool no one.

  As I had done to reach the rhasa, I let my body relax. Instead of withdrawing totally inside, I forced myself to feel in and down my arm. I traced a path through muscle and bone, past arteries and veins. There, deep within my palm, lurked an alien blackness.

  I forced myself to touch it, and almost jolted away at the frigid shock it sent through me. I persisted and finally it noticed me. It receded into the bones of my hand when it realized its presence was a threat to my assignment, but it promised to come back when I needed it.

  My eyes flickered open and my palm lay unblemished. The flesh still felt chilled, but it looked normal. I knew I could touch and seal papers with a death's-head without the tattoo returning, or could summon my tsincaat and the mark would remain hidden. Only if I pulled the soul from a body would the tattoo reappear, and then I could not send it away again until after Shar.

  I held my unmarked palm up.

  The Master nodded and I left.

  * * *

  The Fifteens I'd displaced from their room found me in the library in the early evening. I was almost finished with my background so they had little trouble persuading me to wrap things up and join them back at the room for story swapping. I stopped in the kitchen on the way back to the room to take a few apples with me, because I'd worked straight through dinner.

  Each Justice deals with missions in different ways. Some Justices get drunk and spend their last evening wenching in Taltown. Others double- and triple-check everything until they're so tired they can only fall into bed and wake ready to go. I even know of one Justice two years my senior who goes through the Shar ritual before he heads out.

  I like to spend the evening with others because I know, so often, I'll be alone on the road. There are few enough normal people who are willing to have a Talion as a friend. I know Weylan's wife accepted me only because I'd known her husband for many years, but if I hadn't know him I doubt I'd have shared a meal or roof with her.

  In Talianna I was not a figure to be feared. Here others understood what my life was. They had grown up with me and realized I was more human than the word Talion or Justice comes to mean. Even in Selia's song the Justice was a faceless killing machine that a rogue had made a fool of; here I was j
ust a man who had experience, and this was especially true and valuable to the Fifteens.

  The two Fifteens who lived in the room had invited four of their friends to sit and talk. They dragged chairs in from their rooms and I sat on the bed with my back against the wall. Each of them produced a bag of sweets, from anise seed to sugar rocks, but I declined their kind offers and munched the apples. They waited until I had one apple in me before they started their interrogation.

  As usual, in these informal discussions, most of the initial questions were about me. They wanted to learn, as quickly as they could, who I was and tie that into the things they'd heard about me. I remembered pestering a Justice just like that when I was a Fifteen because I wanted to know as much as possible about him in case I had to travel with him during my Journey. I'd have given my right arm to know something about the Justice I was to ride with.

  Then they asked questions about the world and I imparted wisdom, generally through an anecdote or joke. I didn't preach at them because I knew they'd ignore preaching and we'd all quickly get bored. The only time I got even the least bit insistent was when I stressed that people work with those they like far better than with those they fear.

  Finally, as the evening drew to a close, their questions became pointed and gently steered me in the direction of the story behind the scar on my shoulder. I'd seen it coming, especially after Jevin's prodding them toward it earlier, but I evaded and dodged their questions on that subject. They knew the story already, but I was not going to give them the satisfaction of hearing it from my own lips.

  Still they persisted, and had almost pinned me down, when Jevin appeared in the doorway. "Hast thou nothing better to do than persecute a Justice?" Jevin combined High Tal and the Call perfectly to demand attention and mildly scold in one breath. The Fifteens, who had their backs to the doorway, all started. They instantly realized Jevin wished to speak with me alone. They stood, thanked me, wished me luck, and departed.

  Jevin shut the door behind himself and dropped into one of the wooden chairs. I leaned back on the bed and rearranged the pillow so I was comfortable. I held up an apple, but he waved it off, so I tossed it aside and let it roll to a stop toward the foot of the bed.

  "Nolan, I'm sorry about Marana." Jevin's voice lost some of its power as he spoke.

  I nodded and shut my eyes for a moment. "Thank you. When did you know?"

  "It was not announced until this evening's meal. Still I suspected. She was sent out after whatever had killed three Elites and taken a Black Wagon. I had my doubts."

  I was instantly defensive. "She could handle herself." I drew my knees up and hugged them to my chest.

  Jevin nodded, reached out, and squeezed my forearm. "That she could. Still you have to remember that Marana used skill and fear to be effective. She was subtle, not powerful. Whatever took the wagon was sheer power. There are not that many Justices who can deal with that sort of power."

  I nodded. He was correct. Marana was a hunter. She'd always watched and waited. She'd learn about her prey, study it, and take it when she could strike easily. She often appeared from nowhere to deal justice, then vanished again, just as quickly. And she never used the Ritual.

  Jevin continued. "I guess I knew she was dead when you were recalled before you got Morai. You're one of the few Justices who could deal with that sort of power. If they sent for you, Marana was obviously dead."

  I shook my head. "Why didn't you say any of this that first night?"

  "I had to hope for the best, didn't I, for you and for her?"

  I forced a smile and nodded. "Perhaps, between one thing and another, this is best for Marana."

  Jevin said nothing, but in his eyes I read agreement.

  "What do you know of my mission?"

  The Fealareen shook his head. "Rumors. You go out tomorrow and will be in disguise, but that much I could guess from the beard and the time you spent with Allen. And I know it must be a very tough thing they're sending you after. You're one of the few Justices who could destroy something like that. Lastly, it must be in the Sea States because you can assume a role there with little extra training."

  I released my legs and leaned back shaking my head. "I bow to your deductive powers, Jevin." I smiled weakly. "Who do they send when I fail?"

  Jevin pursed his lips. "Me. You go first because you can pass unnoticed. If there is a need for secrecy you can be secretive. I'm afraid growing a beard would not disguise me."

  We both laughed at that thought. "If I fail and you have to come after me, tell them I'll see them in the Seven Hells."

  Jevin shook his head and stood. "You'll succeed. You are a Justice."

  A lump caught in my throat like a bubble. "Gods, Jevin, I miss her."

  Jevin closed his eyes. "Yes, Nolan, and you are not alone in that. But remember, this ends her torment."

  He was right. I thanked him for reminding me and watched him leave. I undressed, set the apple on the table, blew the lamp out, and after a short time I actually went to sleep.

  * * *

  I awoke reluctantly. It was one of those mornings when I'd roll over onto my stomach and try to lever myself up on my elbows. They'd collapse and I'd fall face-first into the pillow. Sleep reclaimed me twice, and probably would have kept me except for the Services clerk who entered the room and left me a brown hunting suit.

  I took my time getting ready. I lounged in a hot bath and scrubbed myself cleaner than I knew I'd be in the three days' worth of flight to Hamis. When I returned to my room all my things had been packed up and removed. Those I would need on the trip itself would already be down at the Mews; the other things would go back into storage until I returned.

  I dressed in the hunting suit and walked to the mess hall. I was late, so I had to eat in the kitchen. I didn't mind that, because I got the chance to supervise my provisioning. I removed the hard biscuits from my food sachel and replaced them with some apples and more jerked beef. The Services clerks certainly knew what food would preserve well, but I was only out for a week's journey, not a march across the continent.

  I tried to find Jevin before I left, but, as improbable as it might sound, he was well hidden. I wanted to thank him again for talking with me the previous night. Having a friend around to help you understand the loss of another friend is invaluable.

  Jevin, as it turned out, was waiting for me at the Mews. He was dressed in the standard black leather sleeveless jerkin, black cloth trousers, and knee-high boots. His tsincaat and ryqril rode in their respective sheaths on his hips. He smiled and held a sack out to me.

  "Ah, Nolan, there you are. Here, I thought you might like this."

  I took the bag and opened it. It contained a half chicken from the Gull merchant in Taltown. I smiled. "Thank you, Jevin, I appreciate it."

  The Fealareen smiled and his fangs shone white against his gray-green lips. "I wish you the best of luck on this outing."

  I nodded and walked toward the Hawk some Elites were preparing for me. It was Fleet, Tadd's bird. I tied the bag to the saddle. "Jevin, if you are the one sent after me I'll arrange for everything I've learned, up to the point they get me, to be told to you. Someone will speak with you. What do you want for a recognition sign?"

  Jevin knitted his brows and thought for a moment. "Drijen."

  I pressed my lips into a thin, grim line. "Good choice." Drijen was High Tal for "revenge."

  I mounted the hawk and walked it from the saddling enclosure. Jevin reached up and we clasped each other's forearms. "One other thing, Nolan, you can do for me."

  "Yes?"

  Jevin looked down. "It's a small favor."

  "Yes?"

  He smiled. "Can you bring me back some of the court cheese from Seir? I've developed a taste for it...."

  I laughed. "As much as you want, my friend, as much as you want."

  I waved and Fleet and I headed east.

  * * *

  The three-day flight was totally uneventful, utterly solitary, and felt like punishm
ent. It gave me a long time to think about Marana and reconcile myself to her death. Being alone was difficult, but it helped me face the problem instead of allowing me to be deflected from it by well-meaning people who wanted to help me with the pain. Friends like Jevin could help me through it, others would just delay consideration of it.

  I remembered my grandmother helping my mother deal with her father's death from sunfever. My father's mother had always been the family historian, the storyteller, and even the political analyst, but in her dealing with my mother's grief she became a caregiver. The image I had of her changed and perhaps for the first time I became aware of the changes, good and bad, wrought in people by great stress.

  I wished for the comfort she would've offered me, but settled for bits of wisdom she'd imparted in her life. I'd had experience laying ghosts while traveling alone before. Each mile further I'd traveled from our farm in Sinjaria helped fade the faces and memories of my family. In the same way each mile away from Talianna took me further and further from where Marana and I had spent our time together. Even though I was heading toward where she'd died, I had no mental picture of her in Hamis, or any of the Sea States, so she could not haunt me there.

  By the evening of the third day I reached the west end of the Twin Mountain Valley. I landed in a clearing marked by a red blanket and hooded Fleet. Tadd walked from the nearby forest leading Wolf.

  We exchanged greetings and immediately looked after our own animals. Wolf looked fit to me, in fact a bit overfed, if that was possible on the long ride from Ell. Wolf nickered as he got a nose full of me. I patted him and turned back to Tadd.

  Tadd completed his inspection of Fleet and seemed pleased. "Thank you for taking such good care of him."

  "And you for caring for Wolf. Have you had any word about King Tirrell and his hunting party?"

  Tadd shook his head. "No one has come and spoken to me. Still I had heard the horns and drums of his beaters over the last few days. They've been working this way but they stopped abruptly late this afternoon. I can only conclude the mountain leopard has been taken and they'll head back in the morning."