“But why?” I protest, drawing everyone’s attention. “Why devastate an entire house in one night and do nothing more? We had no idea this had happened and that was amonthago.”
“Because they were awaiting orders, I suspect,” Fortiss says grimly. “I think Rihad fully planned to call the skrill to his side after taking out all the Divhs at the tournament. He just didn’t plan on not still being upright. Maybe…maybe that’s why it took so long for the skrill to show up to the First. He started the call to arms for these creatures but never completed it.”
“So now, they wait.” I surprise even myself by speaking up, but the enormity of what Rihad has done staggers me. “He opened up the Unlit Pass. He invited the skrill into the Protectorate, but he’s no longer here to command them. Do they think he’s coming? Do they thinkwewill give them direction?”
Fortiss and Syril lock eyes, then she turns to me. “After that first killing sweep, there was only silence. No one remained inthe Eighth House to kill—except for the horses—and the skrill returned to the mountains. They only came back last night, after you arrived. We found them stirring in the courtyard of the Eighth, and the farther we got into the house, well—you saw them. So yes, I think they are waiting for that direction, and they believe you’re here to give it.”
I make a face. “But if they wanted us to serve as their leader, why did they attack us?”
“They didn’t, though,” Fortiss points out, reasonably enough. “They were in the house, but it’s not like any of them tried to stop us. They didn’t even stop Syril and her team, not at first. Then we opened the door to Daggar’s vault and immediately set them on fire. I’m thinking we’ve got some pretty confused snakes right now, but they won’t remain that way for long. They’ll figure it out.”
“The dark shall draw the dark,” Syril murmurs, and Tennet, Fortiss and I all look at her sharply. She would have had no idea that Daggar had said those words to Fortiss less than a day ago. But something in the words pricks my attention in a way it didn’t before.
“If the dark draws the dark, then anything that’s not darkwon’tdraw it, won’t order it forward,” I say slowly. “And anything that can’t or won’t draw the dark, is the enemy. They just assumed we were what they were waiting for. We show up directly in front of them, blithely follow them back to the Eighth House, accept their hospitality, and break bread with them. Maybe they just assumed we understood who and what they were.”
“While all along, we simply were idiots,” Tennet says. He winces and reaches up to pinch the bridge over his nose.
“Not idiots,” Syril protests quickly, then pauses. “Well, somewhat idiots. But you learned something important too. The Savasci would never have gone into that house again. To us,there’s been nothing left alive in that house but snakes since Daggar and his family, staff and servants were all massacred. Outside the house, there was nothing living except the horses in the stable—which we kept there since there was food aplenty for them and the skrill didn’t seem to mind us feeding them and leading a few off a bit at a time. Then you landed in front of the Eighth House and saw a robust company of men and horses galloping out to greet you. You believed what your eyes showed you, just as the horses did.”
“Honestly, we really do sound like idiots,” I mutter.
Syril shakes her head. “Again, you’re missing the point. The skrill illusion magic works against a specific target. In the case of the wall—anyone around here, who knows the history of the place and what they should expect—sees an unbroken wall. Fortiss, you may well see a crumbled one. In the case of the Eighth House, the skrill needed to draw banded warriors into their midst to receive their direction. For that they needed you and the horses of the Eighth to perceive them as real…but no one else. That’s important. Maybe because the energy is so focused, the illusion holds more firmly for their targeted enemies.”
“But not you?” Tennet asks. “Why? You’ve clearly proven yourselves to be a threat.”
“Maybe we’re neither enough of a threat or a tool to be worth their energy.” She shrugs. “I don’t know. What I do know is that banded warriors can’t see what’s real at the Eighth House. And given that the only people who are coming to help us tonight are banded warriors, you’ll need to keep some members of the Savasci with you in every fighting unit. Someone needs to see clearly.”
I grimace. “I was kind of hoping that I could band you and your warriors to Divhs before night falls. We’ll need all the help we can get. But if you need to see clearly in order to keep us from blundering into another illusion…”
Syril turns to me, her eyes widening. “You would band us? Just like that? Without…”
“Well,I’mthe lord protector,” Fortiss puts in, his wry smile taking the arrogance out of his words. “And so, I’m the ultimate arbiter of who gets banded, but Lady Talia has authority over her own Divhs by my decree. That said, I understand both sides of this discussion. You should be banded, yet we need your sight to keep us aligned. But if you could choose, say, half your group to receive the band, and Talia’s willing, we could use the help. We don’t know who if any of the other houses will be able to supply assistance.”
I don’t miss Tennet’s grim expression, and intriguingly enough, neither does Syril. “You disagree,” she prompts him.
“The bands of the Divhs have been passed down from father to son for five hundred years,” Tennet says gruffly. “We’ve been taught that that was the tradition of our forebears. Now that tradition lays in ruins. We’ve also learned that the original delegation from the Imperium wasn’t made up entirely of warriors, but each to a one was banded to become warriors to fight in the Great Conflict. That much we know is true, and that much explains why Talia could become a warrior with a Divh so mighty. Fair enough.”
“Your enthusiasm is breathtaking,” I comment, but he ignores me and barrels on.
“That said, should we not have some measure of decorum when it comes to awarding the band going forward? All in your company are worthy, undoubtedly,” he says to Syril, who regards him with a baleful eye. “But is this a precedent we truly want to set, linking those who are not warriors to Divhs? I confess I don’t know. And it seems that we don’t have the luxury of knowing. So, perhaps I should hold my own counsel.”
“Never that,” I murmur. drawing Tennet’s attention as Fortiss scowls at me. “Warriors fight not only with their swordand staff, but with their minds. Still, you’re right enough—we don’t have the luxury of picking and choosing who our allies are. And I know from previous experience that we could do far worse than banding the warriors of the Savasci.”
I turn to Syril. “If they’re willing, I’ll band half your troop today and the guards among our number. Anyone with any battle skill, honestly. Those who remain as lookouts should know that their time will come if we survive this. For now, though, we need their clear eyes as much, if not more, than we need pairings with Divhs.”
“We’ll need your healers too,” Fortiss says grimly. “There’s always a reaction to banding, and there’s no way to tell how severe it will be. We’ve got less than twelve hours before nightfall. That’s not a lot of time to band your people or help them recover from the shock of the experience.”
“I can take on the training of your warriors these next several hours,” Tennet says stoutly. Even if he doesn’t love this plan, he’s clearly committing to it. “That training, I’m afraid, will be simply honing your people’s willingness to command their Divhs into a battle none of us have ever fought before these past few days. But from what I’ve seen, your people can handle that.”
Syril smiles at him, the first real smile I think I’ve ever seen her share. “Then I will lead the sighted Savasci, Lord Tennet, and you will lead my warriors.”
Chapter 33
“They’ll work out their conflict over you before nightfall, if you’re wondering. I’ve watched this particular battle worked out too many times not to know the signs.”
“What?” I look up to see Syril at the top of the path. She’s looking between me and the far edge of the encampment. A small smile plays at the corner of her mouth, but she doesn’t seem particularly happy. I roll to my feet, suddenly alert. “What are you talking about?”
“The two men circling around you like dogs before the hunt.” She gives a short, curt wave to still my objection as I draw up alongside her. She shifts to the side just enough to give me an eyeful of Fortiss and Tennet squaring off near the sleeping cave, their manners tense. She’s right—they do look like they’re about to fight. “They’ve tried to play it civil enough, but that can only work for so long, and Fortiss is no fool. He can’t guide a lion in battle if he thinks it might chew off his foot.”
