The Raven Ring Read online

  The guard paused in front of the second door. “Just the shutter, sir?” he asked Weziral.

  “No, open the door. It will be crowded enough with three of us to ask questions, without having to peer through the grille as well.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  As they entered the cell, Maggen rose from a straw pallet in one corner. A chamber pot sat next to the door; otherwise the room was bare. Maggen scowled at Weziral. Then he saw Daner, and his expression brightened. “Welcome, my lord! I knew Cousin Ovrunelli would send someone, even if he couldn’t come himself. I knew—” He broke off as Eleret moved into view. “What is she doing here?”

  “That is my affair,” Daner said. Maggen snickered, and Daner gave him a quelling look. “You had best concern yourself with assisting me in clearing up the lamentable confusion you have created through your carelessness. Lord Ovrunelli is not pleased.”

  “I did what he told me to,” Maggen said sullenly.

  “That,” Daner said loftily, “remains to be seen.” He turned to Commander Weziral. “Have you anything to add to your previous comments?”

  “No, my lord.” Weziral’s voice was grave, but his lips twitched as he spoke. Fortunately, Daner was between Maggen and the Commander, and by the time Daner moved, Weziral had his face back under control.

  “And you?” Daner asked Eleret. His back was to Maggen, and he raised his eyebrows inquiringly, his expression a little doubtful.

  Eleret thought she understood. “I’ve nothing to add. You may proceed, my lord.”

  Relief flashed across Daner’s face, then he smiled warmly at Eleret. “Very well,” he said in the same imperious manner, and grinned before schooling his expression to match his tone of voice. Turning back to Maggen, Daner studied him as if he were an improperly fletched arrow that Daner was deciding whether to salvage. “You had best begin at the beginning,” he said at last.

  “Aren’t you going to get me out of here?” Maggen said.

  “In due time,” Daner replied, so coldly that Maggen flinched. “Provided I am satisfied that you fulfilled your instructions. Proceed.”

  “My cousin, Lord Ovrunelli, came to see me—”

  “Without informing you first?”

  “No, there was a note—”

  “I believe I told you to begin at the beginning,” Daner said in a tone that was, if possible, even colder than before.

  “Sorry, my lord. I didn’t think it was important.”

  “You didn’t think at all,” Daner said. “Describe the arrival of the note, and what it said.”

  “A messenger brought it to my office,” Maggen said. “It said that my cousin, Lord Ovrunelli, wished to speak with me on a matter of great importance. I was to meet him at an inn; I forget the name.”

  “And you didn’t think it strange for Lord Ovrunelli to come to you in such a place?” Commander Weziral asked.

  Maggen shrugged. “Everybody needs to relax a bit now and then. And we’re cousins. Why shouldn’t he?”

  “You are third cousins, once removed,” Daner said. “And you had not met Imperial Advocate Lord Ovrunelli before. Never mind. Go on.”

  “What was I supposed to do, quiz the messenger? He was just a hireling. Cousin Ovrunelli hadn’t told him anything.”

  “Lord Ovrunelli,” Daner corrected with dangerous gentleness. “And it is obvious that you did, in fact, ‘quiz the messenger,’ or you would not have known he was a hireling.”

  “I just wanted to make sure my cou—Lord Ovrunelli was being well served, that’s all.”

  “Commendable, I’m sure. Continue.”

  Under Daner’s persistent prodding, Maggen’s story slowly emerged. He had met “Lord Ovrunelli” at the inn. Ovrunelli had been alone, without guards. No, Maggen had not thought that strange. Ovrunelli had asked Maggen to obtain the contents of a kit bag that had accidentally fallen into the hands of Commander Weziral. The bag contained an object vital to the security of the Ciaron Empire. Maggen would be well rewarded for returning it to his cousin; the exact nature of the reward had not been specified.

  Maggen had attempted to break into Commander Weziral’s office without success. At a second meeting with “Lord Ovrunelli,” he had been forced to confess his failure. Ovrunelli had been furious. Maggen had tried again, with no better results. This time, Ovrunelli had been less angry, and had told Maggen to wait for the person who would be picking up the kit bag. Once the kit was away from the security of Imperial Guard headquarters, it would be much easier to retrieve.

  The day before Eleret’s appearance at the Commander’s office, a note had arrived giving her name and warning Maggen to watch for her. He had found various excuses to loiter near Weziral’s office for the rest of the afternoon and most of the following morning, but when Eleret showed up at last he had been unable to persuade her to give up the kit.

  Frustrated, Maggen had returned to his own office, dreading his “cousin’s” rage. To his surprise, another note had arrived less than an hour later, instructing him to use his position in the City Liaison’s office to have Eleret—and her kit—brought to him when she tried to leave Ciaron. This he had done, and though the attempt had been even more spectacularly unsuccessful than his try at burglary, he fully expected Lord Ovrunelli to reward him for following instructions.

  “These notes,” Commander Weziral said when Maggen finished. “Did you keep them?”

  “Ah—” Maggen looked at Daner uncertainly. Daner nodded, and Maggen said, “They’re in my storage chest at home.”

  “Good,” Weziral said. “If that is all, my lord Daner, perhaps we should be going.”

  “Are you satisfied as well, Freelady?” Daner said.

  “You’ve covered everything pretty thoroughly. I don’t have any more questions.”

  “Then we are at your disposal, Commander.” Daner bowed and stepped aside to let Weziral leave the cell before him.

  “Wait! What about me?” Maggen said. “You said you’d get me out of here.”

  “I said that might happen in due time, provided I was satisfied that you had followed instructions,” Daner said. “You were told to destroy Lord Ovrunelli’s notes, were you not?”

  Maggen blanched. “I—But—I didn’t—”

  “Yes. You didn’t.” Daner frowned. “I shall do my best to explain matters to Lord Ovrunelli, but under the circumstances I can do nothing for you now. Commander, Freelady, if you will join me?”

  They left Maggen sputtering in the cell and started back toward the main building. As soon as they were out of hearing, Weziral laughed. “Neatly done, my lord. I must confess, I wouldn’t have thought of trimming sail to fit his mistake, but you changed course as smoothly as you please. You got twice as much out of him as we did this morning.”

  “Thank you, Commander,” Daner said. “It seemed the best thing to do at the time, but I wasn’t sure you’d approve.”

  “I might not have, if it hadn’t worked so well. Success is hard to argue with.”

  The walk back was as slow and full of interruptions as the walk over had been. Eventually, they reached Weziral’s office. As the Commander reached for the door, another aide came hurrying up.

  “Two seconds more and I’d have been safe,” Weziral said resignedly. “Ah, well. What is it, Vardon?”

  “There’s a messenger here looking for Freelady Salven,” the aide said. “He just arrived. I thought all of you were still over in Building Four, so I put him in that empty room just down the hall.”

  Eleret frowned. It couldn’t be Karvonen; they’d agreed he would avoid Eleret and Daner until they sprang their trap. Of course, he might have found something important in Jonystra’s rooms … Or perhaps it was someone from Climeral’s school? She shook her head. “Daner, can you work that spell from here? The one to see if whoever is in there is the shapeshifter?”

  “I can cast it here, but it won’t tell me anything unless I can see the person I’m trying to test,” Daner said. “It’ll have to wait until we�
��re in the room with him.”

  “What about the spell to keep him from vanishing?”

  “That one takes a lot of energy, Eleret. I’d rather not cast it until I need it.”

  “And I’d rather not let Mobrellan slip my snare again. Do it.”

  Commander Weziral looked from Eleret to Daner with a slightly startled expression. Daner smiled and shrugged. “As you wish, Freelady.”

  As Daner began muttering the spell, Weziral turned to his aide. “Go get the Inner Watch. They’re to accompany Freelady Salven and Lord Daner, and arrest whoever is inside that room if Lord Daner gives the word.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Wait,” Eleret said. “Commander, I’d welcome the help, but it might be better if your men didn’t come in with us.”

  “Why? From what you’ve said, this fellow is dangerous enough to warrant it.”

  “Yes—if it’s the shapeshifter in there. I may be shooting my arrows at a patch of mist. But if it is Mobrellan, we don’t know who he’ll look like. Would your men arrest Imperial Advocate Lord Ovrunelli on Daner’s say-so?”

  “Sir, I’d have recognized Lord Ovrunelli,” the aide put in. “It isn’t him.”

  “Then if Freelady Salven opens the door and finds Ovrunelli waiting for her, we’ll know it’s the shapeshifter, won’t we?” Commander Weziral said. “Still, I see what you mean, Freelady. I’ll make sure the guards have clear instructions.” He nodded at the aide, who left at a brisk walk.

  “Done,” Daner said.

  Eleret turned. Daner’s eyes looked tired and his face was drained. Before she could voice her concern, Daner went on. “The only way anyone can get out of this building for the next hour is to walk, run, or be thrown out a window. I hope you’re not in a hurry to see who’s waiting for us, Freelady. I’m going to need a little rest before I can cast another spell.”

  “It will take a few minutes for the Commander’s guards to get here.” Eleret hesitated. “Will that be enough? Is the next spell as…demanding as this one?”

  “A few minutes will be plenty of time,” Daner said reassuringly. “And the test for shapeshifting ability is a relatively easy spell. It doesn’t have to hold anyone, you see, or last any length of time.”

  “Good,” Eleret said with a confidence she did not feel. But by the time Weziral’s aide returned with two quiet, efficient-looking guards, Daner’s face no longer looked tired and drawn.

  “Go ahead, Freelady,” Commander Weziral said. “We’ll be here if you need us.”

  “Thank you, Commander,” Eleret replied. As she opened the door the aide had indicated, she said to Daner, “You know, I’m going to feel a little silly if it’s only Karvonen after all.”

  “Why?” said Karvonen’s voice from inside the room.

  Daner let out an explosive breath. “Karvonen, you idiot! Why didn’t you leave your name with Weziral’s guard?”

  “Because he’s a thief,” Eleret answered. Stepping into the room, she looked to her right and saw Karvonen lounging on a bench. Benches lined the wall opposite her as well, below three narrow windows. At the far end of the room from Karvonen stood a stack of boards and several trestles. As the door closed behind Daner, Eleret returned her gaze to the thief and said, “The real question is, what are you doing here? We had an agreement, if you remember.”

  “Ah, yes, the agreement.” Karvonen pushed himself to his feet. “What you’re really after is the password, of course.”

  “Passw—” Daner broke off abruptly, even before Eleret’s warning nudge touched his side. “Yes, you’d better give us the password before you forget it.”

  Karvonen smiled. In careful, clearly memorized Cilhar, he said, “Karvonen says to tell you I’m the shapeshifter.”

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  ELERET’S BLOOD SANG IN her ears, and for an instant she was blinded by rage. How dared he steal Karvonen’s shape? And what has he done with Karvonen? Instinctively she reached tor the raven’s feet at her shoulders, and the movement brought her back to herself. Hands poised, she stopped. He doesn’t realize yet that I know he’s not Karvonen. Close on the thought came another. Daner is suspicious, but he can’t be sure, because he doesn’t speak Cilhar.

  With that, the surge of emotion ebbed, leaving only clear, cold reason behind. Eleret turned slightly toward Daner, so that her shoulder blocked the shapeshifter’s view of her hands, and said in what she hoped was a normal tone, “It’s him, all right.” As she spoke, she pointed her right forefinger and tapped the raven ring with her left.

  Daner’s eyes dropped to her hands and he nodded. “I’ll just go tell the Commander, then. There’s no sense in letting him worry.”

  “I disagree,” the shapeshifter said. “This won’t take long.”

  Eleret moved farther into the room, where an unexpected spell would be less likely to catch both her and Daner at once—and where she could get a clear throw at “Karvonen,” should she need it. “Let be, Karvonen,” she said, wondering as she spoke that she could say his name to this creature without choking. “You still haven’t said why you came.”

  “No.” The shapeshifter smiled, and if she had not already known it was not Karvonen standing at the other end of the room, she would have realized it then. There was none of Karvonen’s wry humor or cheerful irreverence in that smile, and very little pleasure of any kind. He raised a hand and gestured. “Behtha.”

  Before the shapeshifter finished speaking, Eleret had thrown two raven’s-feet and was reaching for two more. In mid-reach, she stopped, staring, as the raven ring pricked her finger in unnecessary warning. Her weapons had halted two feet from the false Karvonen’s face, and now hung motionless in midair, as if someone had suspended them on strings. She threw two more anyway; they’d give him something to walk around if he started down the room.

  The shapeshifter finished his gesture, and the door of the room shimmered and began to glow a poisonous green. Daner, who had been reaching to open it, jerked his hand back and spun to face “Karvonen.” His sword rang as it came free of the scabbard. Faintly, through the wall, Eleret heard a sudden commotion in the corridor outside.

  With a faint smile on his lips, the shapeshifter studied Daner’s sword. “Zyrimi sal.”

  “Nor hanri davaria,” said Daner almost at the same time.

  The raven ring tightened uncomfortably around Eleret’s forefinger. The light from the windows dimmed briefly and then brightened once more, as if someone had drawn a curtain and then opened it again. Daner smiled and lifted his sword briefly before lowering it to guard-position once more. The blade shone as if they stood in a battle ring at noon instead of indoors in half-light.

  The shapeshifter’s eyebrows rose. “Not bad, for a beginner. But you can’t keep it up.”

  “Neither can you,” Daner said.

  “Now there, you are wrong.” The shapeshifter grinned, and Eleret shuddered to see Karvonen’s smile go so subtly awry. “I have help.” He gestured again and rattled off a long, complex phrase.

  “Nor hanri darvaria,” Daner repeated, but this time the dimness did not vanish entirely. It hovered against the ceiling and filled the corners of the room, withdrawn but waiting. From the shadows behind the shapeshifter, Eleret heard a soft chuckle, and the ring pricked again, emphatically.

  Displeasure mingled with surprise in the shapeshifter’s expression. “Where did you learn that?”

  Slowly, quietly, as if she had sighted a deer and were circling for a better shot, Eleret moved sunwise and forward. Her raven’s-feet still hung frozen in mid-flight; Daner’s counterspells had not allowed them to move even an inch. But the shapeshifter’s magic had not yet affected her, or Daner. If she could get close enough…

  “I learned it in the same place I learned any number of other things,” Daner said. “Why don’t you give up now, and save us both some trouble?”

  “You must think I’m a fool,” the shapeshifter said, and smiled his disconcerting, not-Karvonen smile once more. “I’m here fo
r that ring of hers. Give it to me, and I’ll go.”

  As he glanced in her direction, Eleret stopped moving and slid her knife out of its sheath. “Why should we believe that?”

  Anger twisted the shapeshifter’s face. “I suppose you don’t think a bastard is as honorable as someone who’s true-born. Well, my word is as good as anyone’s, and better than some.”

  “No doubt,” Eleret said noncommittally. She had no idea why he had reacted to her question so strongly, but she did not want to provoke him into an attack just yet. Not until she was near enough for her steel to touch.

  Daner snorted. “You can have ten fathers, or you can be the legitimate son and heir of the Emperor himself; I don’t care. After what we know you’ve done, we wouldn’t believe a thing you say.”

  “Then there’s no point in talking, is there?” said the shapeshifter, and raised his hand.

  “Wait!” Eleret said. “Why do you want my ring?”

  “Does it matter? You won’t believe me, and if you did, you still wouldn’t give it to me.” His voice was bitter, and he glared in Daner’s direction, but he did not move to complete his spell.

  “Daner doesn’t speak for me,” Eleret said. “I might believe you. What harm can it do?” She wasn’t close enough for a lunge, and there was no point in throwing the dagger, not with the spray of raven’s-feet still hanging uselessly two feet in front of his face. And he looked so much like Karvonen…

  The shapeshifter studied her as if he had never seen her before. “I want the ring in order to discover where the Shadow-born have been bound,” he said at last, and Eleret was sure that he spoke the truth. “Make of that what you will.”