The Born Queen - J. Gregory Keyes [145]
“I do,” Anne said. “And the fact that I cannot seek you out in vision suggests to me that you are one of them.”
“I have power,” he admitted. “I am the Fratrex Prismo of the holy Church, and the faneway one walks to ascend to that position carries…authority. But it isn’t me you should be concerned about. It’s the other. The one they used to call the Black Jester.”
“The Black Jester? You mean from the histories?”
“Yes—and no. It’s complicated. Suffice to say that he wouldn’t be the most pleasant fellow to sit the sedos throne.”
“You’d rather have me, then.”
He pursed his lips. “When I was quite a young man, I had an attish in the Bairghs, and there I discovered some very ancient prophecies that led me to very strange places. One of the strangest was here, below Eslen castle, where a certain prisoner was once kept. I think you know which one I mean.”
“Yes.”
“Those of us steeped in the sedos power have difficulty seeing one another, as you mentioned. But the Kept has no such constraints; the source of his power is not the same. And I extracted a vision or visions from him. He showed me, in effect, some of the results of what will soon happen. Now, as you also know, the future feeds back to the present. The thing each of us is to become beckons us to become it. You had a guide, a tutor, did you not?”
“Yes,” she said.
“She is in part what was you in the past, but she is also Anne Dare after taking the sedos throne.”
“That’s absurd,” Anne said, knowing as she said it that it wasn’t.
“Not at all.”
“So you’re saying I will take the throne, then?”
“Maybe. Or maybe he will.”
“And that would be bad.”
“I’m not sure. That’s not what I saw, but I imagine that yes, it would be bad. But what I’ve seen is you.”
“Really? And what did you see?”
“A demon queen, bruising the world beneath her heel for the thousand years it will take it to utterly die.”
Anne had a sudden, vivid vision of her arilac, the first time she had seen her, a demon without mercy, a thing of pure malevolence. Was that her? What she would become?
No.
“That’s the most insane thing I’ve ever heard,” she said.
“Without my help, that’s what will happen.”
“And what sort of help are you prepared to give me? The kind you gave my father and sisters? The kind you gave the sisters of Saint Cer? Will you help me as you helped those at the sedos in Dunmrogh? Be aware I have a letter in your own hand implicating you.”
“Anne,” Hespero said, his voice tinged with desperation. “The world teeters at the edge of collapse. Almost all futures lead to ruin. I can help you. Do you understand?”
“No,” she snapped. “No, I don’t. I can’t imagine what is behind your contemptible lie or why you chose to deliver yourself to me, but hear me now: Fratrex Prismo or not, you will answer for your crimes.”
“Do not make an unwise decision here,” Hespero said. “Don’t you understand? We must mend matters between us and move forward.”
“I’ll hear no more of this. You’re a murderer, a torturer, and worse.” She nodded at her guards.
“Take him.”
“I’m sorry,” Hespero said. “Sleep, everyone.”
Anne felt something warm brush her face. The guards collapsed in midstep.
“What are you doing?” Anne said.
“What I must,” he replied. “What I probably would have had to do in the end, anyway.” He stepped toward her.
“Stop,” she said.
He shook his head.
Her fury boiled up, and she sent her will at him. His step faltered, but he came on. She couldn’t quite feel him, couldn’t boil his blood. Anxiously she pushed deeper, finally sensing something softer, something she could attack. And at least his gifts didn’t seem to affect her; she could feel them flailing uselessly about her like butterfly wings.
But he was standing right next to her. She felt a sharp blow just under her ribs.
“No!” she said, pushing away, staring at her habit and the dark stain spreading there, at the knife in Hespero’s hand.
Then he caught her by the hair, and she felt it draw across