Fire Dragon - Katharine Kerr [146]
Nearby he saw the strange little pock of nothingness that marked a dweomer light on the physical plane. Raena? Quite likely. He let himself drop back to the physical and found himself circling the Council House. Wooden shutters covered one window and only one. Sitting on the sill, his ear pressed against the wood, sat Shaetano in the form of a black-and-white shrike. Evandar gained height, then laid back his wings and dove. Shaetano looked up, threw himself from the sill, and disappeared. Cursing under his breath Evandar swerved and burst through the gateway into the sunshine of the Lands, only to find his brother gone.
Yet Shaetano had left tracks behind him: the pawprints of the fox in moist earth, a tuft of russet fur on a bramble, and in the air, an astral essence like crystals shimmering. Following them, Evandar flew steadily and saw at the horizon the green swell of trees. Of course! There was only one place where Shaetano would be able to hide from him, the wild forest under the verdigris moon. He was desperate indeed, then, with no human worshipper to feed upon, but clever still. That forest was the only place on any plane where Evandar feared to hunt.
Evandar flew onward, turning and swooping over the twisted dark below until he saw the beacon tree, green and burning on the boundary. Mayhap those that live in the wild will do my work for me, Evandar thought. Yet he knew beyond knowing how he knew that his brother's Wyrd lay with him and him alone. In time, though, the creatures of the night would flush Shaetano out of the forest again. He knew that for a certainty as well. On long wings he spiralled down to the ground, and as he landed, he changed, taking the form of a massive black hound. He lay down, couchant, under the verdant half of the tree and waited.
A spring dawn was breaking in a clear sky when the Council of Five met up on the plaza, but rather than go to the Council House—and close to the dragon—they stood twixt the well and the head of the path that led down to Citadel. Below them the white buildings gleamed in the rising light, and a breeze stirred the mists of Loc Vaed, gleaming turquoise through the rifts.
“Soon the watch will be opening the gates,” Verrarc said. “It behooves us to reach some decision about Rakzan Kral and his embassy.”
“Just so.” Burra spoke firmly. “I'd not have them in this town again.”
“No more I,” Hennis put in, “but you do ken the old saw as well as I: Scorn the Horsekin, see harm ride your way.”
Frie and Admi stayed silent. Verrarc was painfully aware of the way that his fellow councilmen were watching him: narrow-eyed, unsmiling, arms crossed over their chests.
“When I did take Raena in,” Verrarc said, “little did I ken that she'd been consorting with Horsekin.”
“And if you had?” Burra snarled. “Would it have made one cursed bit of difference?”
Verrarc felt his fists clench. When he took a step forward, Burra held his ground.
“Stop!” Admi shoved his bulk in between them. “This be no time for fighting amongst ourselves.”
“Well by the gods!” Burra stepped back. “There be a passel of secrets that Verrarc does hide, bain't? How did that witchwoman of his get out of the city if he were not the one to help her?”
Like a sheepdog Admi herded Burra a few steps back, but the gesture made Verrarc realize that the four of them stood on one side of an invisible line whilst he stood alone on the other.
“True spoken,” old Hennis joined in. “We do need a few answers from you, Verrarc.”
Verrarc tried to speak, but he'd gone cold to his very soul. They waited, his accusers, watching with eyes of flint, sharp and glittering. He swallowed hard and found his voice at last.
“I know not how she did leave the city. There be many a lie she's told me. Ye gods! Don't you think I feel the fool, letting a woman lead me about by the nose?”
They considered this, and Hennis at least seemed more thoughtful than angry. Verrarc took a deep breath, then went on.
“But be that as it may, Raena does ken many a thing about