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Page 85
Page 85
Gavin swallowed involuntarily. He’d never really universalized the thought as she was doing, but he always thought his whole life was like that. His deceptions, his authority, his imprisoned brother, his relationships. A chain of wet paper, drooping under its own sodden weight. A chain to which he added new weight every day.
“Here’s what I’ve learned,” the White said. “Orholam doesn’t need me. Oh, I can do good work for him, work that pleases him, and if I foul it, others will suffer. You see, what I do still matters, but in the end, Orholam’s will prevails. So I think I still have work to do. I see unfinished business everywhere I look. But if you tell me that I should be Freed this Midsummer’s, I will do so gladly, not because I have faith in you, Gavin—though I do, more than you know—but because I have faith in Orholam.”
Gavin looked at her like she was a visitor from the moon. “That was very… metaphysical. Can we talk about the Freeing now?”
She laughed. “Here’s the thing, Gavin. You remember everything. I know you do. You think I’m crazy now, but you’ll remember this, and someday it might make a difference. And with that, I can be content.”
Madwoman or saint—but then, Gavin didn’t think there was any difference.
“I’m going to Garriston,” he said.
She folded her hands in her lap and turned toward the rising light.
“Let me explain,” Gavin rushed to say. Then he did, ignoring the beauty of the sunrise. Ten minutes later, he was almost finished when the White raised a finger. She held her breath, then sighed as the sun itself mastered the horizon. “Do you ever watch for the green flash?”
“Sometimes,” Gavin said. He knew people who swore they’d seen it, though no one could explain what it was or why it happened, and he knew others who swore it was a myth.
“I think of it as Orholam’s wink,” the White said.
Is everything about Orholam with her? Maybe she is fading.
“You’ve seen it?” Gavin asked.
“Twice. The first time was… fifty-nine years ago now? No, sixty. It was the night I met Ulbear.” Gavin had to reach to remember the name. Oh, Ulbear Rathcore, the White’s husband and quite a famous man in his day. Dead now twenty years. “I was at a party, quite disgusted with the drunk young gentleman who’d escorted me there and most certainly wasn’t going to be escorting me home. I went outside to get some air. Watched the sun set, saw the green flash, and was so excited I jumped. Unfortunately this very tall fellow was leaning over me to grab his wineglass that he’d left on the balcony, and I broke his nose with the back of my head.”
“You met Ulbear Rathcore by breaking his nose?”
“The woman he was escorting that night was none too pleased. She was beautiful, graceful, prettier than I was by half, and somehow she couldn’t compete with little clumsy me. Though I can’t imagine she would have been happy if she’d married Ulbear, your grandmother didn’t forgive me for two years.”
“My grandmother?”
“If I hadn’t seen the green flash at that instant, your grandmother would have married Ulbear, and you wouldn’t be here now, Gavin.” The White laughed. “See, you never know what you’ll learn when you let old women prattle.”
Gavin was left speechless.
“You can go to Garriston, of course, Gavin, but no one else can perform the Freeing, and it can be done at no other time. So there’s only one option: I’ll send all those to be Freed to Garriston. I’ll have to send our fastest ships to intercept theirs so they can arrive in time.”
“We’re talking about war,” Gavin said.
“And?”
“What do you mean ‘and’?” he demanded. “I’m not going to have time to throw parties and set off fireworks and give speeches.”
“The list I have so far is only perhaps a hundred and fifty drafters. Not a large flight this year. A good proportion of those definitely won’t make it to next year. You want another eighty or ninety color wights?”
“Of course not.”
“The parties are nice, Gavin, but understand what you are. This is the flip side of your first purpose.” She’d figured out that he’d sworn to wipe out color wights because of Sevastian. Like everything she learned, she used it to control him. “Even if you don’t believe the Prism is Orholam’s gift to mankind, they do. The minutes each drafter spends with you being Freed are the holiest moments of her life. You can take that away, but it would be the worst thing you could do. I for one can forgive you much, but I’d never forgive you that.”
That stung.
“Now, tell me how you dropped off Karris in Tyrea, killed a giist, and brought back a son, all within a few days. The trip alone should have taken you two weeks.”
Well that was quick. He’d known she would learn of the skimmer and the condor as soon as he’d shown Karris, but he hadn’t been able to stop himself. Maybe he was impulsive. So he told her about the skimmer and the condor. Her eyes lit up. “That would be something to see, Gavin. Flying! And the speed! I suppose you’ll want to go back to Garriston the same way?”
“Yes, and I’m taking Kip with me.”
Again she surprised him and didn’t protest. “Good,” she said. “It will be good for you to learn about a father’s love.”
Because I sure as the evernight didn’t learn about that from my own father. Then Gavin realized that was exactly what she meant, and he bristled. But there was no point fighting over his father again.
“So what was the second time?” he asked instead.
“Second time?”
“The second time you saw the green flash. The second time Orholam winked.” He kept the sarcasm out of his voice. Mostly.
She smiled. “I look forward to the day when I tell you that, my Lord Prism, but that day is not today.” Then her smile passed. “When you return, we need to talk about Kip’s testing.”
“You noticed the wall crystals. I thought I stopped it in time.”
“Old? Yes. Addled? Not yet.”
“You want to hear me admit it? Kip nearly broke the test,” Gavin said. “Like Dazen did.”
“Or worse, passed it,” the White said.
Chapter 52
Karris knew she was even deeper in trouble than she’d feared within five minutes of being captured. King Garadul’s Mirrormen walked her at gunpoint over to a wagon. They didn’t bind her hands, which she thought was curious and gave her a momentary hope. Then the Mirrormen handed her off to half a dozen drafters, all women. Two Mirrormen stayed, their pistols leveled at her head, barely blinking.
The women—two reds, a green, a blue, and a super—stripped her naked and searched her and her clothes, quickly finding her eye caps. The two Mirrormen barely even glanced at her body, and though men around the camp turned to see whatever they could between all the drafters surrounding her, there wasn’t a single ribald comment.
Disciplined. Damn it.
Crossing her arms over her breasts, Karris looked down, feigning embarrassment. Well, maybe not completely feigning.
“Eyes up!” one of the reds commanded.
Karris looked up. They wanted to see her eyes so they would know as soon as she tried to draft. Smart too, damn it twice.