The Silver Mage - Katharine Kerr [16]
The man stared at him in desperation. Salamander tried again.
“Safe,” he said. “Come see Drav with me.”
At that they both smiled.
As they followed him back to the Westfolk tents, Salamander saw Grallezar and hailed her. She took these new recruits to Drav while Salamander sought out Dallandra to give her his report.
“Laz thinks the spirits of the book may be aware of his mind trying to reach them, but he couldn’t be sure,” Salamander finished up. “And they wouldn’t know if he were a friend or an enemy.”
“That’s very much too bad,” Dallandra said. “I keep wishing I’d seen the wretched thing myself.”
“Me, too. You know, it’s an odd thing about Laz. Is Rori truly sure he knew this soul as Alastyr?”
“Well, he’s told me so a couple of times now. Why?”
“He doesn’t seem as horrible as he should.” Salamander shrugged with an embarrassed laugh. “I suppose that’s what I mean.”
“You know, some people do learn from their lives. It’s one of the things that keeps my faith in the Light strong, actually, that some people really do see the evil they’ve done and do their best to redeem themselves. The opportunity’s offered to every soul in the Halls of Light.”
“Of course.”
“You sound doubtful.” Dallandra cocked her head to one side and considered him.
“In a way I suppose I am. I’ve never had grand memories of my past lives, you know. I assume I must have had some, but without actual memories, the assumption’s—well—bloodless.”
“You should talk less and meditate more.”
“Why am I not surprised you said that?”
When he grinned at her, she scowled at him, then softened and returned the smile. Still, he told himself, she’s right, you know—you should.
“Besides,” Dallandra continued, “Laz also had that miserable life without a shred of dweomer in it, where he was nothing but a renegade Deverry lordling, and I think he truly learned something from that, too.”
“Which reminds me. Laz said you told him that he owned the crystal in a former life. He certainly did—as Alastyr.”
“Yes, I know, that was a nasty slip on my part. I’ll have to think of a way to tell him without evoking that life in his mind.”
“Good luck! Better you than I.” Salamander hefted the crystal. “Shall I give this to Valandario?”
“By all means. It rightfully belongs to her.”
Valandario was sitting in her tent, studying an array of her scrying gems, when Salamander called to her from outside.
“Oh, esteemed teacher, may I enter?”
“Yes, certainly.”
Salamander ducked under the tent flap and came in, carrying something wrapped in what looked like an old shirt. Val smiled at him, then began picking up the gems and putting them back into their pouch. He hunkered down and waited until she’d finished.
“I brought this back to you.” Salamander laid the bundle down in front of her. “It’s the black crystal. I know you asked me to smash it, but it occurred to me that you might enjoy doing it yourself.”
“Most likely I will,” Val said. “My thanks.”
She unrolled the wrapping—indeed, an old shirt—and set the crystal down on the tent cloth between them. At the moment it appeared so ordinary, just a carved bit of obsidian, she wondered if it were the correct crystal. Salamander supplied the evidence without being asked.
“Every time I look into it,” he said, “I see Haen Marn and Evandar.”
“That seems to be its one power,” Val said. “I wonder why Loddlaen wanted it so badly.”
“Doubtless he didn’t know how limited it is, and besides, he was fetching it for the man called Alastyr.”
Val nodded. She was remembering Jav, laughing at some jest as they walked together down by the ocean. With a shake of her head, she banished the memory.
“Well, what to do with it?” Val said briskly. “I’d enjoy smashing it to bits, certainly, but since we don’t truly understand this bit of work, I’m hesitant. Besides, it doesn’t seem evil to me, now that I look at it.”
“Was the crystal evil, or was it the lust for the crystal that brought the evil?”
“A very good point.” With a sigh, Val wrapped the black stone up again in the shirt. “Well, I