Storm Warning - Mercedes Lackey [175]
:I will be all right,: the Firecat replied. :The pain—it is bearable, now. We have things we must do; you especially, and he would not thank us for neglecting them.:
Karal rubbed at his eyes; they were sore and gummy, the lashes all stuck together. His nose and cheeks were tender from scrubbing at them. Odd how such little discomforts distracted a person from grief, but not enough to be more than one more burden.
He had awakened with a heaviness of soul that cast a gray shadow over everything. He knew that he ought to be hungry, but he had no appetite whatsoever.
He scratched Altra’s ears; the Firecat didn’t seem to mind being caressed like an ordinary cat. All of his things were here, piled into baskets at the sides of the fabric-draped room. Was this supposed to look like the inside of a Shin’a’in tent? Probably. So this would be An‘desha’s room, though he doubted An’desha used it much.
Now he wondered what it was about An’desha that Talia had wanted to talk about. If she hadn’t come to their suite, would things have fallen out any differently?
No matter. He should follow his own advice, and not torture himself with might-have-beens. The danger from the disruption-waves hadn’t gone, just because Ulrich was—
His eyes stung.
There was still work to do. He should get changed and do it.
“Altra, you ought to stay here and rest.” The fur under his hand felt harsh and brittle, and Altra looked in poor shape, as if the events of yesterday had completely depleted him. “I’ll be back after I find out what everyone else is doing.”
“Everyone else—the mages and the Prince, that is—is—are?—coming here,” Firesong said from the doorway. Karal’s head snapped up and he started; he hadn’t heard anything at all to indicate that Firesong was in the hallway. “With an unknown agent somewhere in the Palace, the others are reluctant to trust that he or she might not be somehow listening. The ekele is safe enough; I supervised every bit of the building myself, and before you arrived I checked for more such little gifts as were distributed yesterday.”
The Hawkbrother entered the room and sank down on his haunches beside the pallet that Karal and Altra shared. He studied Karal for a very long time without saying a word; Karal didn’t say anything either. He was too tired, and too grief-laden to play at verbal fencing with the Healing Adept. If Firesong wanted to know something, then he could damned well ask it.
“I think I understand, now,” Firesong said, out of the blue.
“What?” Still less was Karal ready to trade non sequiturs.
“What An’desha sees in you.” Firesong continued to sit on his heels, watching Karal measuringly.
Karal traded him back look for look. Firesong was baiting him, and he was not going to rise to it. Maybe the Hawkbrother meant well, trying to distract him from his sorrow, but he’d chosen a bad tactic to use.
“Talia wanted to talk with you and—” Firesong hesitated, then went gamely on. “She had already spoken with me. An‘desha is in the midst of a crisis, she thinks; he is afraid of setting his feelings free, and he is afraid of losing control of himself if he keeps examining those ‘Ma‘ar’ memories. Evidently they are the most powerful and the most seductive of all. Falconsbane was mad, purely and simply, but Ma’ar was as close to sane as anyone of his ilk is ever likely to be. He had reasons and rationalizations for everything he did, and I suppose that is what makes his memories so seductive.” Firesong shrugged. “An’desha is afraid of much, and I have lost patience with his timidity. Frankly, I do not think he is going to be of much use to us unless he can face what he has inside him without being afraid of it, and I know he will not be of much use—ah—to us, if he keeps shutting off how he feels.”
“That’s what you told Talia?” Karal asked.
“And now you,” Firesong confirmed. “Now, more than ever, we cannot afford to have anyone handicapped, and at the moment An’desha is like a hooded falcon.”
“Or a racehorse with hobbles and blinders.” Karal nodded. “Let me think about this.”
“Fair