When Glait returned after an appropriate time, I said, “Thanks, Gilva. I’m going to send you back to the funeral now. If anyone saw us together and wants to know where I am, tell them I said I was going into hiding.”
“If you do need a place to hide …”
“Talk to you sometime later perhaps,” I said, and I sent her back to the temple at the edge of everything.
“Good vermin,” Glait remarked, as I commenced my shift human-ward. (It’s always easier that way for me than the demon-shift.)
“I’d like to send you back to Sawall’s sculpture garden,” I said.
“Why there, Masster Merlin?”
“To wait for a time, to see whether you behold a sentient circle of light. And if you do, to address it as Ghostwheel and tell it to come to me.”
“Where shall I tell it to sseek you?”
“That I do not know, but it is good at that sort of thing.”
“Then ssend me. And if you are not eaten by ssomething bigger, come tell me your sstory one night.”
“I shall.”
It was the work of but a moment to hang the serpent back in her tree.
I’ve never been sure when she’s joking, reptilian humor being more than a little strange.
I summoned fresh garments and garbed myself in gray and purple. Fetched me blades long and short then, also. I wondered what my mother might have been up to in her chapel, but decided against trying to spy on her. I raised the spikard and regarded it for a moment, then lowered it. It seemed possibly counterproductive to transport myself to Kashfa when I was uncertain how much time had passed and whether Luke was actually still there. I took out my Trumps, which I had had along in my mourning garb, uncased them.
I located Luke’s, focused upon it. Before too long it went cold and I felt Luke’s presence.
“Yes?” he said. “That you, Merle?” at about the same time as his image swam and altered, causing me to see him mounted and riding through a part-blasted, part-normal countryside.
“Yeah,” I answered. “I gather you’re no longer in Kashfa.”
“Right,” he said. “Where’re you?”
“Somewhere in Shadow. How’s about yourself?”
“Damned if I know for sure,” he responded. “We’ve been following this black path for days-and I can only say ‘somewhere in Shadow,’ too.”
“0h, you located it?”
“Nayda did. I didn’t see anything, but she just led me on. Eventually, the trail got clear to me. Hell of a tracker, that gal.”
“She’s with you now?”
“That’s right. She says we’re gaining on them, too.”
“Better bring me through then.”
“Come ahead.”
He extended a hand. I reached forward, clasped it, took a step, released his hand, began walking beside him, a pack horse to the rear.
“Hi, Nayda!” I called, to where she rode at his other side. A grim figure was mounted upon a black horse ahead and to her right.
She smiled.
“Merlin,” she said. “Hello.”
“How about Merle?” I said.
“If you wish.”
The figure on the dark horse turned and regarded me.
I halted a death strike that ran from reflex to the spikard so fast that it scared me. The air between us was smudged and filled with a screeching note, as of a car grabbing pavement to avert collision.
He was a big, blond-haired son of a bitch, and he had on a yellow shirt and black trousers, black boots, lots of cutlery. The medallion of the Lion rending the Unicorn bounced upon his broad chest. Every time I’d seen or heard of the man, he’d been about something nasty, damn near killing Luke on one occasion. He was a mercenary, a Robin Hood figure out of Eregnor, and a sworn enemy of Amber-illegitimate son of her late liege Oberon. I believed there was a price on his head within the Golden Circle. On the other hand, he and Luke had been buddies for years, and Luke swore he wasn’t all that bad. He was my uncle Dalt, and I’d a feeling that if he moved too quickly the flexing of his muscles would shred his shirt.
“… And you remember my military adviser, Dalt,” Luke said.