Mistress of the Night - Don Bassingthwaite [99]
Keph gulped air and sat up, trembling with relief. He stared blindly into the darkness. She'd healed him. Why?
Variance gave a soft laugh and said, "Do you think that just because you're blind, I am as well? I see confusion on your face, Keph. You have questions. Ask them." He heard liquid pour. Variance put a metal cup into his hand. "Water," she said. "Nothing more."
He didn't move. After a moment, Variance released him and stood up. He heard a rustle of clothing and footsteps as she moved away, then returned. A tindertwig scratched on stone and flared bright as Variance lit a candle.
"Light, Keph," she said, holding the candle out to him.
"You were angry," he rasped. Fear made a hard lump in his stomach.
"Of course I was angry," Variance said calmly. "I was worried. When Bolan told me that the Selunites had captured you, I feared for you. Praise Shar, I was able to reach you before they could start their torture. The werewolves among them-"
"Torture?"
The Selunites hadn't been going to torture him. And werewolves? The only werewolf among the Selunites of Moonshadow Hall was Feena, and she had been long gone when he and Julith had been captured.
Julith… He remembered the young priestess staring as Variance…
Keph blinked Variance's voice was inside his head, seductive and haunting, weaving lies among his memories.
The cup fell from his hand to splash water across wood and stone as he thrust himself backward, away from the pale woman. If Quick had been at his side, Keph would have drawn her-but the Selunites still had the blade.
"Stop it!" he gasped at Variance.
She narrowed her eyes. Her voice surged back, harsher than before. "I brought you to safety…"
Keph clenched his teeth and pushed back against the whispers, straining with all the strength of his will.
"No!" he shouted.
The force of the denial was shocking, like a slap in the face. In an instant his head was clear and Variance's eyes were hard in the candlelight. Breathing hard, his heart pounding, Keph tensed and met her gaze.
"Stay out of my head!" he snarled.
Variance pressed her lips together. For a moment, she was silent, then she whispered, "My words come back to haunt me. I did say you had remarkable strength of will, didn't I?" She shrugged. "Very well. Keep your memories."
Keph's breath caught in his throat. He gaped at the priestess.
"You-"
"-admit surrender?" Variance's eyebrows rose. "Why shouldn't I?"
Silence dropped. It was all Keph could do to stare. She was giving up? The priestess whose disdain had once made him grovel, the woman who spoke for the Lady of Loss, was admitting defeat? Suddenly, his rage was gone, stolen out from under him so quickly that his head spun in confusion. The fear that had driven him to flee Yhaunn, the sense of purpose he had found in helping Feena… they were gone as well. If Variance was just giving up, what was there to be afraid of? Off balance, he groped desperately for something to help make sense of what was happening.
"This is some kind of trick," he said, taking another step away from her.
Variance gave him a measured look and asked, "How is it a trick?"
He struggled for an answer. "You… you lied to Bolan. You told him the Selunites tried to steal me away. You know that's not what happened."
"You want me to tell Bolan the truth?" She opened her free hand as if releasing some captured insect. "That your faith failed? That you tried to flee? That you fell in with Selunites? That I dragged you back through Shadow by the hair on your head? What purpose would there be in telling Bolan that? He would strike you down on the spot. But so long as he believes the Selunites snatched you away, you're Shar's hero. If I had convinced you of the same thing, no one would have known any different."
"But you didn't convince me."
"No, I didn't," Variance agreed. "I might have, though.. If plans never succeed, why bother making them at all? But I serve the Lady of Loss. One of her harshest lessons is learning to recognize when a plan has failed and there's no hope of taking it