The Dragon Revenant - Katharine Kerr [89]
As to what he’d do with Rhodry once he had him, well, he’d think of some bargain that would protect the captive as well as the captors. It occurred to him, too, that they might not have to go looking for other factions of the Dark Brotherhood. It could well be that such factions were already looking for them.
Far away, up in the mountains to the north, the Old One divined that some random factor had changed his plans. He was working in his Temple of Time that night, studying the symbols that he’d constructed on the twelfth floor, the most recent addition to the structure and the one that reflected his plan to destroy Nevyn. This temple was a curious thing. Although the imagery had acquired a certain dweomer over the years, at root it was only a conscious mental structure akin to the memory palaces used routinely by merchants and civil servants all over the islands. At the top of an imaginary hill he’d built in his mind a tall, square tower, made of white stone. One side was in full sunlight, to represent the knowable past and present; the other, in moonlight, to represent the less-than-knowable future. After years of work, the mental images were so well developed that he had only to think of the tower to see it whole and invariable; after equally long years of practice at mental concentration, he could walk in and look round as if it were a real building.
There were four entrances, and in the center was a spiral staircase of fifty-two steps that led to twelve levels, where each wall had seven windows. On the twelfth floor he’d placed symbolic statues and objects that would indicate how the winds of Fate and the Future were affecting his complicated scheme, just as a weathercock on a farmer’s barn is an indicator of the wind and thus, at times, of changes in the weather. Since his long-range goal was the destruction of the elven race, he’d put four statues of elves round the staircase, two men and two women. He was hoping to see them begin to age or sicken, but so far they’d stayed stubbornly healthy and young. There were times, in fact, when he caught them laughing at him.
Near the elves were other statues, one meant to represent Jill—though of course the Old One had no idea of what she looked like—and one of Rhodry, stripped naked and shackled. Close by was a statue of Nevyn, whom he knew entirely too well for his peace of mind. Once Nevyn set foot on Surtinna, his statue would animate and undergo small changes that would enable him to judge the Master of the Aethyr’s plans. Scattered round these main images were other, smaller symbols—statues of Wildfolk, an elven longbow, and various objects that had some emotional meaning for the Old One. Over the past few months, these symbols had indeed registered changes just as he’d hoped. Right before Baruma had first contacted him, for instance, a stone wolf had appeared, lolling in one corner and watching the stairs. Once he’d spoken with Baruma, he could see that it signified a spy and an enemy. Although every now and then he saw another statue—a shadowy thing, but apparently male and elven—standing near Jill’s, so far he’d been unable to study it; whenever he tried, it disappeared.
That particular evening, when he went to the chamber, he found changes that disturbed him mightily. Rhodry’s shackles were gone. The stone wolf was on its feet, hackles raised, fangs bared. In her arms Jill was cradling a turtledove, as if to protect it from a cat or some such predator. Of all incongruous birds! he thought to himself. Now what can that