The Born Queen - J. Gregory Keyes [157]
“That’s true. And that’s why I’m here.”
“Why?”
“Well, two reasons, really. Like the others who have walked one of the greater faneways, I can see you, at best, in a cloudy fashion.”
“You just said you saw Anne.”
“Only after a fashion. I can see the world she will make. Were you always this obtuse?”
“I—”
“Rhetorical question,” Stephen said, waving him down. “It’s you I’m talking about now. I wasn’t sure who you were, how much you knew, who you are allied with. So I came to discover all of those fascinating answers.”
“And the other reason?”
“To strike a bargain. You don’t control enough of the sedos power to challenge Anne. Neither do I. But if I had your gifts, I would have a fair chance.”
“Walk the faneway of Diuvo, then.”
“It doesn’t really work that way, and I think you know it. The power is finite. With minor faneways like that of Mamres or Decmanus, tens or hundreds might have gifts at once and never be diminished. But those such as we have walked are different. For me to gain strength, you must relinquish your gifts to me—a simple process that won’t do you any real damage—or I can take them from you, which will unfortunately involve your discorporation.”
“I can either give you, who claim to be the Black Jester, the power you need to seize the greatest power in the world or die? Are those my only two choices?”
“I’m afraid so,” Stephen said apologetically.
“I see,” Fratrex Pell said, brows lowering.
It wasn’t a long fight, and when it was over, Stephen felt the new gifts settle under his skin. Then he called his captive demon and made it fly from the tower and for several leagues to the south. As he had expected, Pell had unleashed the same explosive power on him that he had on the waurm, and although he could protect himself from that, he didn’t want to risk Zemlé or his faithful Aitivar.
When he came to ground, Zemlé rushed to meet him.
“I heard the sound,” she said. “The sky was full of strange colors. I feared the worst.”
He kissed her and smiled. “I’m glad you worry about me,” he said. “But here there was no need for that. This isn’t where my real test will come.”
“You’ll win there, too,” she said.
Later that night, in their tent, she seemed less certain.
“Are you sure about this?” she asked. “Is this really your task, to challenge the queen of Crotheny?”
He rolled back a bit and propped himself on his elbows. “I’m not sure I understand,” he said. “We went through this back in the mountain. It was you and the Aitivar who were so convinced I was Kauron’s heir, back when I believed it was mere insanity. Well, you were right. Where is this sudden doubt coming from? Are your allegiences still mixed? Do you still think Anne is a savior?”
She gave him a tentative smile. “No. I suppose it’s that I never quite believed it. But I believed in the shy, smart man I met in Demsted. I thought he would find a way to help somehow.”
“Am I so different?”
“No. Stronger. Bolder. All of the things you were becoming anyway, now that I look back. It just happened so quickly.”
“Well, do you still believe in me?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Good, then. Do you still want to help me?”
“I don’t see what help I can be,” she said.
He smiled. “You just said it. You believed in me. You still do. That is a strength I can always use.”
“And I love you,” she said.
“And I love you, too,” he said.
He knew she would be a lovely queen. Or mistress, depending on how things went.
CHAPTER THREE
SIR HARRIOT’S TASK
“YOU’RE GIVING us too much,” Aspar said, lashing a pack onto one of the spare horses. “You’ll starve.”
“No,” Symen said. “Like as I won’t, since I’m going with you. There’s not much sense in staying at Tor Scath anymore.”
“You can’t be sure what the Church’s army intends,” Aspar said.
“That’s true,” Symen replied. “But even if they leave us be, what will we eat in a year? Two? And who’s going to hunt here, anyway? No, I’ll give you whatever I can. This world is lost, and the only thing or person in it I have any trust in