Storm Warning - Mercedes Lackey [95]
“Demon-summoning?” Excitement thrilled along his nerves. Perhaps Talia had more in mind than simply introducing two lonely strangers. If anyone was likely to understand his dilemma, it would be one who was familiar with demons and their ilk.
“He never cared to practice that skill,” was all Karal said, but An’desha sensed a great deal behind that statement that Karal did not say. “I, personally, have no magic to speak of. My skills lie elsewhere.”
All the better, so far as An’desha was concerned; the last thing he wanted at the moment was another would-be “teacher.” Firesong was quite enough in that department.
“It often causes more problems than it solves,” An’desha offered tentatively. Talia watched both of them with a slight smile on her face.
Then Karal smiled himself. “That sounds like something my master would say,” he replied warmly. “The people here do not seem to understand that, they keep wanting to know what magics can be done to cure this or that—” He stopped himself and shrugged. “Well, I suspect you know.”
“I do,” An’desha replied. The corners of his mouth lifted along with his heart; this Talia was right, he and Karal did have a great deal in common, even though their backgrounds were probably utterly opposite.
An’desha had not realized how hungry he was for a friend until this moment. An Empath as strong as Talia would have to have sensed the need even though he had not voiced it to her—sensed it even past the stronger and darker emotions that his fears for the future had been calling up in him. The fact that she had brought Karal here indicated that she had sensed that same need in him as well.
This was a good thing; one of the first unreservedly good things that had happened since he entered the Gate to this land.
“Well, I wasn’t able to tell Karal a lot about you, because I didn’t want to take liberties that I was not entitled to take, An’desha,” Talia told him. “So why don’t you explain your situation? Who you are, how you came here, that sort of thing.”
An’desha groaned. “I am not so fluent in your tongue!” he exclaimed, in mock protest.
But Talia wouldn’t hear any excuses. “You are better than you think,” she said, as she nodded at the open door to the ekele garden, then raised an eyebrow in silent inquiry.
Well, if Firesong could invite people in, so could he! He asked them both into the garden, and described how it had been built—partially to buy himself time, and partially as a way of feeling Karal out. He was more than pleased; Karal’s questions were as discreet and nonintrusive as those of the young Heralds had not been.
Talia quietly absented herself a few moments later, and he and Karal sat down next to the waterfall in the garden. He noticed only because he sensed the absence of her soothing “spell.” He doubted that Karal had any idea that she was gone. The gentle gurgling of the waterfall created an atmosphere of peace and privacy; an ideal place to talk.
By then, Karal was describing his own background. An‘desha listened with fascination—sometimes horrified fascination—as Karal explained what the Vkandis Priests had once done to the children, and to the enemies, of their land. While Karal’s descriptions were no match for the things that Falconsbane had done, An’desha guessed that at least some of the Vkandis Priests had been well on their way to becoming twins of Ancar of Hardorn, and all under the guise of religion. The only thing they had not done was to poison and drain their own land for further power.
And given time, they might well have done that, too.
“That is over now,” Karal concluded. “Solaris has decreed the Cleansing Fires and the summoning of demons to be Anathema—that is, completely forbidden, unholy. So, here we are, Ulrich and I, trying to forge an alliance with people we were once at war with. It is—rather unsettling.