Storm Warning - Mercedes Lackey [176]
“But we don’t have the time for sensitivity,” Karal acknowledged. “I understand.”
“You can bathe in the pools below,” the mercurial mage said then, changing the subject completely. “There is food in the kitchen. The others will be here shortly.”
And with that, he turned in a swirl of long sleeves and crystal-bead fringe, vanishing as silently as he had arrived.
Food. No, he still didn’t want to even think about food. Nor about all the times that Ulrich had teased him about how much he ate—
No, wait. This is all wrong. I should think about things like that. He should remember as much as he could; there was good advice buried in nearly everything that Ulrich had told him, and now he was going to have to glean as much of it out of his memories as he could.
:He used to offer me cat-mint, you know, as a kind of joke, as if it would affect me as it does a real cat.:
Altra looked up at him from the pallet.
“And what did you do?” Karal asked obediently.
:Asked him to make it into tea, and serve it in a civilized fashion.: Altra sighed. :It was funny at the time.:
“It will be funny again,” Karal promised warmly. “I’ll bring you something to eat, if you like.”
:So Florian spilled my secret, did he?: Altra actually snorted, and looked annoyed for a heartbeat. :Ah, well, I couldn’t stay mystical and inscrutable forever, I suppose. Please bring me something that isn’t breadish or vegetablish.:
“I’ll be glad to, as soon as I have a quick bath.” At least Altra still had an appetite. That was something, anyway, a sign that the Firecat was on the way to recovering.
He found that he felt better after a bath and a change of clothing. It did help that there was nothing at all here to remind him of Ulrich. He didn’t think he would be able to maintain his own fragile stability if there had been.
He still had no appetite, though; rummaging around in the larder didn’t do anything to remove the lump of cold grief from his stomach. He confined himself to taking care of Altra; he found some fish that was so fresh it must have been caught that very morning, and decided that someone in the two-person household had seen Altra for what he really was. And while the Firecat didn’t precisely fall on the offering as if he was half-starved, he certainly polished every scrap off during the time it took Karal to change into clean clothing.
I’m the only Karsite representative, now, he thought, as he examined his clothing. Until Solaris sends someone else—it’s me or no one. I’d better look the part.
He chose one of his formal robes, and carefully arranged his sun-disk pendant over the front placket. He wished there was a mirror.
:You look very impressive,: Altra observed from the bed. You’ve grown since you came here. You’re a bit young for an envoy, but as old as some ruling nobles I’ve seen, even as old as some reigning monarchs. I’ve even heard of Sons of the Sun no older than you:
Karal tugged his tunic straight. “I’ll have to do,” he replied. “There isn’t anyone else for the moment.”
“You’ll do very well.” Once again, Firesong had appeared out of nowhere. He eyed Karal carefully and nodded with satisfaction. “No longer the retiring little secretary. Very good. Let’s go down, the others are waiting.”
:You’ll be fine,: Altra murmured.
Well, he would, if appearance was all that counted. He only hoped he could be so confident of his abilities.
The subject, inevitably, was the attempt to uncover a presumed agent of the Empire.
“I’ve checked and rechecked the servants under Truth Spell,” Elspeth told them all as Firesong and Karal took their places in the circle. Beside her, Darkwind nursed a bandaged shoulder, and the male gryphon had a stitched-up cut in his right wing. “They’re all exactly what they seem to be, so it can’t be one of the regular