Dagger's Point (Shadow series) (35 page)

“Welcome, Jaellyn, daughter of Farryn, to the Temple of

Adraon,” one of the women said, inclining her head. “I am Seana, First One of the inner circle of the temple. My companions are Cadeta and Ronan.” She fell silent, as if waiting for something.

Jael stepped resolutely forward, Tanis and Lainan following a little behind her.

“You know who I am,” Jael said. “This is Tanis, my friend, and Lainan, Farryn’s son. And I don’t doubt you know why I came here.”

“You have come to ask that we grant you that part of your soul that springs from our people,” Seana said calmly.

Don’t go to the Kresh and beg for what you need,
Shadow had said.
Walk straight up to them and demand what should be yours.

Jael squared her shoulders.

“No,” she said. “I haven’t come to ask that you give me that part of my soul. I’ve come to claim it. And if you won’t help me, I’ll come back here day after day and see how many of your spells I can ruin. That’ll give you some idea of what it’s been like for me for my whole life.”

Lainan gasped and even Tanis looked startled, but Jael forced her voice to steadiness as she continued.

“I know I haven’t been raised as one of your people,” she said. “I know I haven’t been trained as your children are. But my mother’s the finest warrior in Allanmere—in the world, likely, if you ask me—and her husband, the man who’s raised and loved me as if he were my father, is an elf with centuries of wisdom to share with his children. What I’ve needed to learn, I’ve learned from them, and I don’t believe there’s anyone on this mountain who could have taught me better.”

The three at the table had listened calmly while Jael spoke.

“You speak to us as one claiming a right,” Ronan said impassively. “But by what right do you make a claim of us? You have not earned this right among us.”

“You’ve acknowledged me Farryn’s daughter,” Jael said hotly. “I’m one of you by blood. Isn’t that enough?”

“It is not enough,” Seana told her sternly. “For our own children full of our blood it isn’t enough. A warrior’s soul is earned through proof of honor and courage, not a right of birth.”

“I will testify to both,” Lainan said unexpectedly, stepping up to Jael’s side. “Last night she challenged me to honorable combat, sword to sword, and bested me fairly and most skillfully.”

“She’s fought dragons and skinshifters with nothing but a sword,” Tanis agreed, also stepping to Jael’s side. “We have treasure from the dragon’s nest and battle scars enough to prove we fought those battles, and we wouldn’t be here alive if we hadn’t won, would we?”

“Stolen treasure and scars?” Cadeta said scornfully. “These are the proofs of honor and courage you would take before Adraon to ask that He grant you a soul?”

Lainan nudged Jael gently.

“Ask for Adraon’s judgment,” he whispered in her ear. “All of our people are entitled to that.”

“Fine, you think I’m unworthy,” Jael growled to Cadeta. “To be truthful, I’m rather used to that. But if your god’s the one who has to grant me a soul, then I don’t much care what you think. Let your god judge me, if that’s what it takes. But don’t sit there and talk to me about honor while you, who don’t know a grain of sand’s worth about me, call me unworthy.”

Cadeta looked inclined to retort, but Seana held up her hand.

“You ask for a judgment,” she said. “If you ask again, I must grant it. Any of our people may go before Adraon; that is the law. If you are found worthy, Adraon may grant you what you ask. But be warned that if you are found wanting, Adraon’s judgments are ... final.”

“Wait a minute,” Tanis protested. “Maybe we’d better think about—”

“No,” Jael said steadily. “I’ve had twenty-two years to think about it, and thinking is all I’ve been
able
to do until now.” Then, louder, “I’m asking for that judgment. Just tell me what to do.”

“Then we must grant you the judgment you request.” Seana stood and beckoned. “Come forward, Jaellyn.”

This time Lainan made no effort to step forward with her. When Tanis stepped up, however, Ronan raised a hand.

“You may not approach,” he said kindly to Tanis. “These mysteries are for our folk alone.”

Tanis took Jael’s hands, gazing into her eyes.

“Don’t do this,” he said. “We don’t even know what this involves, and if I can’t help you...”

“I know.” Jael forced a smile. “But you can’t win the game

without risking your coin.” She released Tanis’s hands and

stepped up to the platform. “All right. Let’s go.”

Seana led Jael to the back of the platform, to the large arch

Jael had noticed earlier.

“Beyond lies Adraon’s domain,” she said. “There you may

seek what you require. If Adraon finds you worthy, you’ll find it.

What trials may be required of you, I don’t know.” She smiled.

“But I wish you success.”

Jael hesitated. The stone certainly looked solid to her. She

reached out one hand, gasping when her fingers seemed to pass

directly through the stone. A furious tingling spread up her arm, and she quickly snatched her hand back.

“It’s magic,” she said unsteadily. “What if my just touching it—”

“You’ve requested a judgment,” Seana said adamantly. “This is the way.”

Jael swallowed. What would happen to her if she fouled a Gate midway through it? Would she be trapped on the other side, or halfway, or—

Twenty-two years of thinking,
Jael thought.
No more what-ifs.

Resolutely, Jael stepped forward.

XI

For a moment Jael seemed to hover in a place that was no place; then she was standing on solid stone again. Before she could look around her, however, something struck her violently in the back, sending her sprawling forward to the floor.

For a moment, Jael was too stunned to react; as soon as she recovered her senses, she rolled, drawing her dagger as she did so. She scrambled to her knees and whirled—

—to face Tanis, sprawled and shaking his head dizzily.

“By the gods, I could have killed you!” Jael exploded. “What are you doing here?”

“When you disappeared, I ran after you,” Tanis said sheepishly. “I almost pushed that woman—Seana—in with me, too, when she tried to stop me. But where is this?”

“I don’t know.” Jael stood slowly and looked around her.

To all appearances they stood in a small corridor, made of stone but otherwise quite ordinary. Behind them was a blank wall; ahead was an ordinary wooden door, such as Jael saw every day at the palace.

“Hadn’t you better go back?” Jael asked worriedly. “I don’t know what to expect, and if this god only deals with the Kresh, who knows what might happen to you?”

Tanis shook his head, taking Jael’s hand.

“I’m not leaving you,” he said quietly. “We’ve come this far together.”

A sudden lump formed in Jael’s throat, and she squeezed Tanis’s hand.

“All right,” she said. “Together, then.”

She started forward, but Tanis pulled her to a stop.

“Wait,” he said. “Hadn’t you better take that with you?” He was pointing to the floor where Jael had fallen.

Jael looked down. At her feet was a wooden box lined with velvet, very much like the one in which she’d placed the piece of dragon’s eggshell. The lid was open and the box was empty.

“I certainly didn’t have that before,” Jael said, shrugging. She picked up the box. When she closed the lid, she saw that the stylized eye depicted on the Kresh soul keepers was carved on the lid. “All right, we’ll take it.”

They stopped at the door, looking from the latch to each other.

“So, you’ve been a priest, or at least an acolyte,” Jael said hesitantly. “What do you say to a god?”

“You’re asking me?” Tanis asked incredulously. “The last time I ever tried to see my god in person, remember what happened? It turned out to be a Greater Darkling in disguise.”

Jael sighed and shrugged, then raised her hand and knocked firmly on the door. There was no response. She knocked again, louder, and again waited in vain.

“All right,” she said. “We go straight in, then.”

The door opened easily. Whatever Jael might have expected—a sort of throne room, perhaps, or a gigantic chamber hung with gold and with rich tapestries—it was not what she saw: a long hallway, no wider than the one in which they stood, lined with shelves from floor to ceiling on both sides. The hallway was dimly lit from some unseen source, and Jael could see no end.

They stepped inside cautiously, Tanis still holding Jael’s hand. Looking at the shelves, Jael realized they were far from empty— every shelf was heavily laden with knickknacks, bits of pottery, small carved statues, and other less definable items. There seemed to be no logic to the mess; dirty and draggled bits of cloth and leather mingled with skillful elven wood carvings; seemingly random twigs and plain pebbles cluttered around an exquisite silver pendant set with red-purple gems.

Seeing the pendant, however, Jael scowled. She picked it up. Why, it looked very much like—

“This looks just like the pendant Urien gave me,” Jael said suspiciously. “I’ve never seen anything like this silverwork before or since.” Her eyes scanned the shelves, then widened. “And these carvings, they’re just like the ones Mist used to do for— and look at this!” She snatched up a pair of gold earrings set with green stones and waved them in front of Tanis’s startled eyes. “Solly’s earrings, the ones I gave to Vedara!”

Tanis released her hand and walked slowly down the hallway, perusing the contents of the shelves.

“I think it’s all yours,” he said. “Here’s the silver combs I bought you in Zaravelle. Here’s a snare, too, tied the way you make them.”

Now that Jael realized what she was looking at, she recognized much of the shelves’ contents. Here was the small stone puzzle Aunt Shadow had brought her; here were the beaded leather boots Mist had given her on her sixth birthday.

“Most of this stuff I recognize,” Jael said slowly. “But some of it—what, by the gods, is this?” She held up a tiny spoon that seemed to be formed from wood, but covered with leather.

Tanis laughed.

“It’s a spoon for feeding babies,” he said. “Metal cuts their gums when they try to suck on it. I’ll wager it was yours, back when you were too young to remember.” He picked up a swatch of cloth, sniffed it, and made a face. “I think this is one of your baby rags, too.”

“But why’s it all here?” Jael asked slowly. “Is it some kind of test?”

“Well, you’ve got an empty box, and you’ve got all this,” Tanis said, waving to indicate the full shelves. “You came here looking for your soul, or part of it, anyway, so—”

“So it must be in here somewhere,” Jael said, nodding. “Hidden among all this junk.”

“Hidden among it, or just among it,” Tanis agreed. “Maybe one of these things
is
your soul. Maybe that’s the test, to see if you can find it.”

That made sense, but Jael scowled as she looked down the long, seemingly endless shelves of mementos.

“But how will I ever find it in all this?” Jael asked disgustedly. “It could take days just to look at everything. Weeks.”

“Well, you take that side, and I’ll take this one,” Tanis said resignedly. “And whenever you find something special, or something you don’t recognize, maybe that’ll be it.”

Jael could propose nothing better. She sifted through the jumble of mementos, hoping against hope that she would feel something special, perhaps the special tingle of magic, to indicate her choice. Some items she recognized immediately, some seemed only vaguely familiar, and some seemed completely unknown to her, but she examined each one. Tanis worked more slowly, having to pause often to ask Jael to identify this item or that one, or to let her touch something he thought seemed unusual.

Did time pass in this strange place? Jael quickly grew discouraged and bored with the seemingly endless task, but she did not grow tired, nor did hunger or thirst trouble her. Had they been in the hallway for hours or days? Looking back, Jael was dismayed to see what a short distance they’d traveled down the hall. The door they’d come through had disappeared not long after they’d passed through it; now there was nothing in its place but blank stone wall, quite solid to Tanis’s and Jael’s touch.

“Jael, look at this,” Tanis called. Jael had to walk a short distance back up the hall to see what he was holding. Her heart leaped as she saw a soul keeper in his hand.

“That’s it!” Jael said excitedly, seizing the amulet. “You’ve found it!”

“Wait,” Tanis said, grabbing her hand as she prepared to drop the soul keeper into the box. “Are you sure that’s it?”

“Of course it is,” Jael said impatiently. “I knew I had to have one of these, and here it is.”

“No. I mean—” Tanis hesitated. “I mean, look at all this stuff. Isn’t it kind of obvious to make it a soul keeper, exactly what you were looking for?”

Jael clenched her hand around the amulet, but Tanis’s words had planted a tiny seed of doubt in her mind.

“What do you mean, obvious?” she demanded. “We’ve been looking for hours or more. It was hardly hanging there right in front of my face, was it?”

Tanis gently pried her fingers open and examined the medallion.

“I don’t know,” he said doubtfully. “It seems a little old and battered, doesn’t it? Wouldn’t yours be new?”

Jael looked more closely at the soul keeper, and her heart sank. The seemingly invulnerable white metal was smooth and perfect, but the inlaid symbol on the front was stained, a few of the gem chips missing. The links of the chain were stained, too, and crusted in places with what might be dirt or dried blood.

“The dragon’s nest,” Jael said dully. “It’s the soul keeper I found in the dragon’s nest.” A tear trickled unnoticed down her cheek.

Tanis gently wiped the tear away and pulled Jael into his arms, holding her warmly.

“It’s all right,” he said. “We’ll find your soul if it takes a hundred years. Anyway,” he added more jovially, “it’s a good thing we haven’t needed a privy, because I haven’t found one of
those
yet.”

Jael chuckled even through her tears.

“You haven’t looked far enough, then,” she said. “I found my old chamber pot halfway back there. At least it’d been emptied. I guess I should’ve become a priestess, entered one of those ascetic orders where personal possessions aren’t allowed. Then there wouldn’t be so much clutter to look through.”

“Then the hall would be full of a thousand books and scrolls we’d have to look through instead,” Tanis said good-naturedly. “Anyway, Jaellyn, it could be a lot worse. Think what we’d have here if you
had
become a thief. We’d likely have a thousand purses to empty instead.”

Jael had to laugh at that, and she wiped her eyes.

“All right, all right,” she chuckled. “But shuffling through all this stuff makes me wish I’d lived a simpler life.”

“No firstborn daughter of a High Lord and Lady lives a simple life,” Tanis agreed. “But it makes me wonder how much farther this can go on. After all, it’s not as if you’re centuries old like an elf. You’re only two decades and a bit. Want to see if there’s an end?”

“All right,” Jael said eagerly. Then she hesitated. “But what if the hallway disappears behind us like the door did? We might pass up my soul and never be able to get back to find it.”

“Well, we’ll walk down the hall slowly and watch the shelves,” Tanis said after a moment’s thought. “If the beginning of the shelves starts to disappear, we’ll know we mustn’t go any farther. You examined all the stuff at the beginning pretty closely, anyway.”

“That sounds good,’ Jael agreed after considering the suggestion. “Let’s go, then.”

They walked slowly down the hall, Tanis facing ahead and Jael watching the beginning of the hall. To her relief, the hall remained the same behind them.

“How much farther can this go?” Jael wondered after they’d walked for several moments. “I mean, as you said, I
am
only a little over two decades.”

“Not much farther,” Tanis said. “I can see something across the hall just a little ahead. It’s awfully dark there, though.”

Jael turned to look. Her keener vision saw movement ahead of her, and instantly her sword was in her hand; a moment later, however, she sheathed her sword and sighed irritably. She’d seen nothing more harmful than her own reflection in a mirror, and she told Tanis as much.

“There’s more than one,” Tanis said wonderingly. “Look, there’s one across the end, but I can see light glancing off mirrors on the sides, too.”

As they approached, Jael could see that there were, in fact, four mirrors, two on one wall, one across the hall, and one on the opposite wall.

“But why mirrors?” Jael asked slowly, stopping just a little before she reached them. Her reflection gazed back just as puz-zledly.

“I don’t—” Tanis fell silent, reaching out to touch the glass of the mirror at the end of the hall. “Jael, look at your reflection. Don’t you think there’s anything strange about it?”

Jael stared at the mirror. She could see nothing strange there. She waved one hand; the reflection waved back.

“No, it looks—” Jael stopped, gasping. Tanis stood between her and the mirror, a little to one side, but there was no sign of his reflection in the glass. Tanis stepped completely in front of her, and Jael shivered; leaning to glance around his shoulder, she could see her own unobstructed reflection standing alone in the mirror, eyes wide and wondering.

“Come here,” Tanis said, beckoning. “Let’s see what happens with the other mirrors. I can’t see my reflection in any of them, either.”

A little fearfully, Jael stepped forward to join Tanis in front of the mirrors. This time he echoed her gasp, and she reached for his hand, clutching it hard in her excitement and fear.

Jael’s reflection was there in the mirror facing her, but it was no reflection of Jael as she had ever seen herself. Her reflection stood tall, taller than Tanis, her limbs strongly muscled instead of wiry and too thin and knobby at the joints. Straight black hair hung over her shoulders instead of her bronze curls, and her skin was the plain brown of her mother’s skin after a warm summer with plenty of sword practice in the yard. Gone were the upswept pointed tips of Jael’s ears, and her eyes, no longer exotically tilted, were a simple warm brown. The bones of her face were stronger, like Donya’s.

Silently, Jael raised one hand. The reflection echoed her movement. Jael numbly reached for the mirror, then snatched her hand back instinctively. Frankly, the thing frightened her.

“If you were all human, you’d look like that, I suppose,” Tanis said quietly. “But look at this one.”

Jael glanced into the adjacent mirror. In this reflection Jael was not taller; indeed, she was slightly shorter, more delicately built, her skin slightly paler. Her pointed ears remained, as did her delicate features, but her eyes were the brilliant green of new leaves, and her hair had faded to a pale cascade almost as light as Argent’s silver-white locks.

“Look behind you,” Tanis whispered, and slowly, fearfully, Jael turned, staring at the image that faced her.

For a moment Jael thought this mirror was simply like the one at the end of the hall, a plain mirror reflecting her as she was, for she seemed outwardly unchanged. When she raised her hand, however, she gasped as the reflection’s hand waved six fingers, not five, back at her. As she studied the reflection further, she realized that the points of her ears had once again vanished, and there was a subtle change in the cast of her face that made her seem alien. Quickly she turned away, almost dizzied by the revelation. It was comforting to look into the end mirror and see herself once again as she was.