Ghostwalker - Erik Scott De Bie [46]
Meris nodded and frowned.
"What is it?" Greyt demanded. He drew himself up taller. "You have something to say?"
Meris stared at him angrily for a moment then looked away.
"I will not fail, Father." He turned on his heel and stalked out the doors of the study.
"See that you don't," Greyt growled.
* * * * *
The door slammed shut, and Greyt smiled authentically for the first time that day. It always pleased him when things turned out exactly as he wanted.
Business needed to be tended to, though. He allowed the elation of the last few moments to settle, then he set the glass on the sideboard and poured himself another. He slipped an amulet out of his tunic-a piece of amber in a rough ovoid shape-and rolled it between his fingers. The amulet was warm.
"You heard all that, I suppose?" he asked aloud.
"Of course, Lord Greyt," a disembodied voice said immediately. A gaunt form clad in a gray robe shimmered into being, shedding invisibility the way one slips out of a blanket. "All three interviews."
"And?" He did not look up but kept his eyes fixed on the amber gemstone.
"You acted more or less correctly," the cloaked man said. His voice was calm and level. Though magical power seemed to surround him like a corona, Greyt was not disturbed. "The Beast must be wary of the Spirit of Vengeance."
Greyt knew the cryptic names were references to Bilgren and Walker respectively. "And Arya?" Greyt asked.
"The Nightingale is suspicious," the wizard said. "She searches for the killer of the couriers, and she suspects that the Spirit of Vengeance might be that killer. She also suspects, however, that you might be that killer."
Greyt dismissed that with a snort. "But who is he?" asked the Lord Singer. "Don't play the mysterious cloaked figure with me-take off that cowl and tell me who he is!"
"Who?" the man asked as he pulled back his cowl. Beneath, the pale skin of a moon elf sparkled in the candlelight, and emerald eyes glittered.
Greyt rounded on the wizard. "You know very well 'who' I mean!" he shouted. "Who is Walker?"
The wizard spread his slim hands. "You have made many enemies in your travels, my lord," he said. "I know not who he is. Only that his vengeance is old."
Greyt was about to shout again, but he bit his tongue. "Talthaliel," he asked sweetly, running his finger along the amulet. "Why do I keep you around?"
"Because I am useful," the wizard replied matter-of-factly.
"You are," Greyt said. "And why are you useful?"
"I see many things," Talthaliel said.
"And how do I have power over you?"
"You have that," the diviner replied, nodding at the amber crystal on his necklace.
"Exactly," Greyt said. He clenched his fist around the gemstone.
"You may stop," Talthaliel said. "I shall do as you ask."
"That's better," Greyt said. "Now tell me who Walker is."
"I cannot," replied the diviner. "Powerful magic shields him, magic I cannot pierce. Not his own magic, but that of a protector. I can feel the other shielding him-a powerful, ghostly presence, but certainly alive."
"Then he is not a ghost," Greyt said.
Talthaliel shook his head. "A mortal man with magic on his side."
"You can tell me nothing else?" Greyt asked.
"Only that he can be killed, and the Wayfarer is eager to do so," Talthaliel said.
"You are maintaining the communication barrier around Quaervarr?"
"As you command," Talthaliel said, nodding. "Several attempts have been made to pierce my magic, but the druids do not approach my skill. Nor do they come to town often-there is little suspicion. None will hear of your activities to undermine the Lord Speaker."
"Still," Greyt said. "With some murderer killing people, questions will be asked. Someone could go to that trollop Clearwater and ask for a sending to Silverymoon or even Everlund-Unddreth already has, and I could only deflect him this once. If they realize that someone is keeping a barrier up, our plan would be ruined. You and I cannot battle