Chapter Twenty-six: Shadows

Hacaben could not be approached until after he'd had a good nap, said the man at the Greatbuck band's camp. That figured--everyone was trying to make up some of their lost sleep. The campground was unusually quiet for a sunny morning. Radovin went back and took over an empty bed. Vague, ominous dreams jerked his head up every time he started to drift off.

He gave up and sat by the hearth with a hide half over him. Waves of color played over ash and embers while the fire died untended for lack of need. The morning grew older and his thoughts wandered in uneasy circles.

There was no one he could talk to. Ottavar was in isolation, not to be disturbed for anything short of the direst emergency until the next day's end. Except perhaps by Tevina--mothers have special privileges, he had said with a laugh. Kewarratiwa's isolation in the women's tent was less strict. She had Jesumi for company, and other women could visit.

Tevina hunkered down to speak to Radovin before she joined a group of foragers from several bands in search of fresh vegetables. "We won't be gone long," she said, "and maybe you can get some sleep while it's nice and quiet. Don't forget to eat. There's plenty of meat yet."

Her motherly concern warmed him. "I'll eat, but I have to stay awake for now. I have to talk to Hacaben as soon as I can. After that I'll stuff myself and sleep all day."

"All right." She smiled, patted his shoulder, and left.

By midday, everyone had finished their morning nap and left. Zhamavi took Tucali and Anella with her to visit the Hare band. Lovaduc and Sherilana went off to discuss the Bull band's problems. The remaining men went to join a hunt planning committee, a leisurely activity during which at least half of them were sure to doze off.

Radovin straightened his hair and breechclout, and tied on his belt with its handy pouches. He paused, fondling the carved hilt of his fine new knife. It struck him funny, to hang all this gear on just to go next door. He considered leaving the belt off. No, it was a long-standing and practical habit, never to go out without at least the basic tools of survival. Besides, little as he might deserve it, the knife was an extra sign of status; he could use that reassurance too. He completed his formal attire with a pair of moccasins and strode over to the Greatbuck's camp. This time he was invited in.

He spoke with Hacaben just inside the entry, away from the small group that drank tea and conversed lazily around the hearth. The shaman took his suggestion well. "So you think the boy is called," he said, giving Radovin a sharp scrutiny.

Radovin stood straight and gave him his best singular and bleary look straight in the eye. "He's kinda young, but...Shugonar has a good heart. And he's smart." Then he lowered his head. "Uhm...and there's another thing...." He told of the attack and his fear for Shugonar. When he looked up, ready to plead even more earnestly if necessary, Hacaben was grinning.

"It was Kayotar's bad luck not knowing you," the old shaman said. "You've talked me into it. Now we'll have a word with Mosho and Zopira, hm?"

The Greatbuck band's head couple gave their consent, though it took some time and tea and a lot of talk that went far to the side of the matter. All that remained was to put it to Shugonar. Hacaben asked two men who were still at the camp to accompany them, and to prepare a stretcher for Bertoluc.

Zopira tried to distract Radovin with conversation while he waited, offering him a basket of salted, smoke-dried small fish. He nibbled on one of the rare treats, hardly tasting it, and said "yes'm" and "no, amada" a lot. She was probably as relieved as he when Hacaben summoned him to go.

The Bull camp had a wrong look to it. Radovin couldn't pin it on any one thing. He thought about asking Hacaben if he had any odd feelings, but he didn't want to raise a fuss to no purpose just because he had a prickly feeling and a few unpleasant dreams.

The stretcher-bearers waited outside the three-cows tent. Radovin stopped barely inside, lingering on the moccasin mat while Hacaben went on. He didn't want Berto to get riled up again and hurt himself. Berto wasn't really such a bad sort, or he wouldn't have been if he hadn't fallen in with Pavo's gang.

"Good of you to come over, Hacaben," he heard Tayrolin say. "I was thinking of asking you, I think you said that chickweed added to a poultice would be good for a deep bruise?"

"Yes. Listen, Tayro, I may take the case off your hands altogether--ha, yes, you have aplenty to do here, ah?"

"Hah. You don't want to know. I'd be glad if the band split."

They moved farther back into the shadows where a man and a boy sat by a bed. A few quiet words passed between them. Then Shugonar came slowly toward Radovin.

"Hai, Shugo. How is he?"

"Not so good. But Tayrolin says he's gonna be all right. Woh, you really got hit." Shugonar glanced away, toward the entrance.

"'I'll squint a while." Radovin shrugged. "That's good, that Berto's all right. Uhm, have you thought about what you're going to do? I know it's different now, but--hai, Shugo." He reduced his already low voice to a whisper. "What's wrong?"

Shugonar's eyes darted nervously around. "Ambelda," he breathed. "Rado, I--she made me tell her, 'bout you stopping them, who was there and all. Said she'd have them kill Berto if I talked to anybody else about it. I--I'm scared. She's...I dunno what she's after, with that bunch, she never had anything to say to any 'em before, but...I think she's gonna make them do something. She was on about you a lot, too. And Kayotar, as if he was still alive."

The back of Radovin's neck prickled. Ambelda had something going with Pavo's raiders? She had always held herself aloof from her darling son's rough friends. "Have they done anything, has she talked to them yet?"

"I don't know. I've been in here all the time. I--I'm sorry, I don't know what to do. Rado, you gotta watch out for them!"

"It's all right, Shugo, I know they might be after me. I've promised to stay in camp and not go off by myself. It's you I'm worried about. Did you say anything to Tayrolin about it?"

"No."

"You should. He needs to know things like that, and he's not like--that one--you know? But you don't have to stay here."

"But I gotta--"

"Hoosh, listen, I asked Hacaben to take you, that's why he's here. He needs an apprentice. You'll be safe with the Greatbuck band. Nah, shh!" He grabbed Shugonar's arm. "Berto too, they brought a stretcher to carry him. He'll be fine. Hacaben is good. They'll take him in as long as he needs healing. Any more is up to him. And your father, if he wants."

"But...me, with--" Shugonar glanced back. "I'm not...."

Radovin shook his head. "You are. Anyway, you need to get away from here. Go with him, all right?" Radovin held the boy, his eye stabbing into Shugonar's.

"All right." The response was reluctant.

Radovin let go of Shugonar's arm and watched him back away. "Go with all good, Shugo," he said. He spun around and left the tent. That wasn't how he'd wanted to do it, but it was done.

"Hai, you look like your girl tossed your moccasins," one of the Greatbuck men said as Radovin paused outside, blinking in the bright sun.

Radovin grunted churlishly and walked a short distance away. More than ever, the camp looked strange. A circle of small rods, charms tied to them fluttering in the breeze, surrounded a wide patch of ashes. That wasn't where the problem lay. A dark, brooding feeling lurked in this camp, something wrong that the purifying fire hadn't touched. Didn't anyone else feel it?

He stared at the spotted-calf tent. That wrong feeling gnawed at the back of his mind like the little rodents that chew on the bones of a lodge at night, making critchy-creetchy noises. It had harried his dreams, filled his mind with shadowy images that would not resolve. Did Ambelda think she had something to gain yet by--what? Having someone else killed? Or did something else in her? His apprehension was taking alarming form. He strode toward the tent.

Someone slapped three times at the open tent door. Enari started toward the entry, but stopped at Ambelda's sharp command. "Come in," Ambelda called to the visitor.

The shadowy figure stopped just inside. Slim, wiry, a little wide in the shoulder and long in the arm, the silhouette fit an elusive memory.

"Good day, Ambelda-mada," the visitor said. His voice was oddly familiar too.

"You think so, ah?"

"It is for some."

"Well, it's not. What do you want?"

"Where is it, Ambelda?"

"What? Where is what? Who are you to ask me questions?" That voice--that twice-hated voice!

"The sorcerer's heart-stone. You have it, ah?"

"Get out of here!" Ambelda shrieked. She continued to scream inarticulately after the visitor turned and fled. The other women screamed too, but in fright, not rage.

The two Greatbuck hunters lounging outside hung their mouths open at Radovin's wild race. His feet threw sprays of dust as he veered sharply off to cross the campground.

"Hai, what--you look like a bahoga is after you," Bazenaber said when Radovin stopped, panting, in front of his own band's tent. "Or you look like a bahoga." He reached out for Radovin's shoulders. "Hai, who hit you? What are you running from?"

Radovin felt as if he had run much farther than just across the campground. "I--just wanted to get here," he panted. "Don't--I can't--" He held up his hands, trying to stall questions he couldn't think straight enough to answer. At least he was away from the malign aura of the Bull camp.

"Initiate business, ah?" Bazenaber made a wry face and let his hands drop to his sides.

"Ayah-kayah," Radovin panted. "Where--oh, shit." He knew where Ottavar was, and he didn't want to disturb him.

Bazenaber frowned. "You're really shook. Come and sit down. You want me to get somebody? Hacaben would--"

"He's at the Bull camp." Radovin threw a pained look over his shoulder. He clenched his hands. "Vah! I need to--oh, shit, oh, shit. I don't know."

"Ah, hai, little brother, little uncle, slow down." Bazenaber put his arms around Radovin, patting his back gently. "Take a few deep breaths. Then we'll see what's to do, ah?"

He let Baz take him inside and sit him down. His legs threatened to shake like that night when he'd arrived here all blown away. A lot of things had changed since then. This was his home, a haven to run to. But it wasn't safe, not yet. The job he'd come to do wasn't finished after all. His purpose remained when he'd thought it was all over, while everything else slithered in a dream of quicksand. He held his head in his hands and tried to think.

"Rado, what is it? Can you tell me, is there anything I can do? I came home to get some clean clothes. Everybody's off somewhere, except Sumi and Tiwa and Ott, and they're hiding away like hamsters." Bazenaber handed Radovin a cup of water and sat down within reach. "D'you want me to start up a fire for tea?"

"Yeah, I know. Ah, don't bother with the fire." Radovin gulped the water gratefully. He stared at the cold hearth. Bazenaber waited patiently.

When he had cooled down, Radovin explained the black eye, and his concern for Shugonar, and Ambelda acting crazy and having some kind of plans involving Pavo's raiders.

"She can't do much besides cause a little stir-up," Bazenaber said, frowning.

"No, but--Baz, you know the story of the heart-stone, ah?"

Bazenaber stared at him. "What are you getting at?"

"There is something--I think Ambelda has something possessing her. She isn't just herself. Somebody's going to be hurt if something isn't done."

"What is it, is the smoke-rider's spirit bound after all? Luco says they did aplenty to make sure he wasn't hanging around."

"I don't think it's that, exactly...not him." Yet there was something familiar about whatever haunted the place. Radovin flapped his hands and shook his head. "I don't know what it is, I just know there's something there, and it's--attached to her now. It was there before, but different.

"Shugo thinks she wants to get at me. What, does she blame me for all that's happened?" Radovin quirked his lips up in a sour excuse for a smile. "Probably. They always did." He hunched up his shoulders and frowned hard at the hearth without really seeing it. "Nothing matters to her except getting what she wants."

After a long silence, he added, "Somebody's going to get hurt."

Bazenaber scratched his chin. "Yeah. That band was going down a bad trail for a long while. Vah! We keep our heads in our own tents too much. That bastard must have been into sorcery of the worst sort. Ott was hinting at that. He said something about you being lucky to have left the Bulls when you did. Wouldn't explain what he meant, though. Said it was all over. But it's not, is it?"

"No, it's not. I have to finish what I started."

"Thundering blue demons, Rado, you didn't start it. That jagal went sour before you were born. Grandpapa knew more than he ever told anyone about Ivergan, I think. Probably the biggest reason he was killed. I wonder why he never did anything about it."

"Ayah-kayah. Right now something is driving her, making her do things she wouldn't do on her own, and there's no telling what could happen. She has to be stopped."

"This is a bad time, with Ott ashoda-inu." Bazenaber frowned. "I don't want to mess things up for him. Vahé! Well, I'll stick with you and cover your backside, whatever happens. If the cow sets anybody on you, they'll be the ones with the black eyes."

Radovin eyed the man--a nephew nearly twice his age who didn't even look like a relative. Baz took after Tevina's side of the family with the lighter hair and eyes and thick, handsome beard. He might be a clout-flipper who liked to dress up and act the girl at festivals, but the well-developed muscles and fast reflexes of a hunter made him a good choice for a big brother if you were a runt in trouble. Radovin thought it would be hard to pick a better one. Just being with him, talking to him, helped. He knew what he had to do now, at least a beginning.

"Thanks, Baz," he said, smiling briefly.

"For what?"

"Just--because."

Bazenaber gave him a wide smile. "You sound like Ott."

Radovin smiled again, and shrugged. He took a deep breath. "I'll go to Balekara. Try to tell her what I think I know." He got up and stalked over to the decorated curtain that concealed the tools of his trade. Ottavar had given him permission to make use of whatever he needed. He had a need, if not a clear reason why.

Radovin let the hide drop back and turned away clutching a rawhide drum case in both hands. It held the spirit-drum that had once belonged to Kayotar, the drum that Tucali had handed him on the day Ivergan died.

Bazenaber had risen and stood waiting. He eyed the case uneasily. "You're not going to try anything on your own, are you?"

"No. I don't think so." Radovin clamped the drum case to his side with one arm while he gave his belt a hitch up. "It's...I don't know. It's all confused, but I know I have to do something. Soon, and I need the drum." He moved toward the door, with an apologetic look backward.

Bazenaber nodded, hands flopping in a helpless gesture. "I can't help you with that, but I believe you. Balekara will sift it out with you." On the way out, he picked up a heavy digging stick; a rod with a fire-hardened sharp end. It was considered in very poor taste to carry weapons around the campground, unless you were part of a hunting expedition just leaving or returning. A digging stick was not a weapon any more than a common knife...usually.

After a quick slap and holler at the women's tent to let Sumi and Tiwa know where they were going, they headed for the Greatbuck's camp. There was no need to ask if Hacaben was back. One of the men who had gone as escort and stretcher carrier stepped away from his conversation with an older couple.

"Hai, Hacaben wants to talk to you, young'un." The man shook his head. His gaze rested for a moment on Bazenaber, standing beside Radovin with the digging stick dangling casually from one hand. "What in thundering blazes did you do over there?"

"I asked a question. Does he want to see me right now?" Radovin would have liked to talk to Hacaben, but not if it delayed him.

"Well, he's busy with that young scat. But you wait here a bit, I'll tell him--"

"Listen, I haven't got time, I have to talk to Balekara." Radovin rushed the words out, afraid he would lose his momentum. "Tell Hacaben to come over there if he can, please, and...tell him there's a domashiki." That was perhaps not strictly true--he didn't know what it was, not yet--but it gave urgency to his message.

"Bogu vahé!" The man recoiled at the mention of a possessing spirit. "Are you sure?"

"There's something bad going on. That's all I know." Radovin spun about and trotted away, Bazenaber following.

Andoval and Vilanaya sat in front of the tent, quietly playing a game of scratch. Their real purpose was probably blocking the entry so no one could disturb Balekara. They didn't look up until shadows fell across the pebbles and the marks scratched in the hard packed soil.

"Hai, Rado," Andoval said, keeping his voice low. "I see you did have an interesting night." He cocked his head, obviously curious.

"Yeah. Ah, I need to speak to Balekara."

"She's resting yet," Vilanaya said. She gave him a worried look. "Is it important?"

"Yeah." He chewed his lip and darted a look off toward the Bull band's tents. All was quiet there.

"Something to do with that bit of noise earlier?" Andoval's eyebrows tilted.

"Kind of. I--" Radovin felt Bazenaber nudge his elbow, and caught the man's meaningful look and tap on the cheek. He realized that he could pull rank on the older but not yet initiated apprentice. It made him uncomfortable, but he had to get on with this. "I need to see her now." He took a step forward, and the seated pair rose and moved out of his way.

Firanaya pulled the flap open in response to his slaps on the leather. She listened soberly while he told her, with stumbling tongue, that he needed to speak to Balekara about a Very Important Matter. "Come in," she said, and moved aside.

Radovin hesitated, looking back at Bazenaber.

"I'll wait here," Baz said. "It's spirit business, betwixt the Dedicated only. I may go to bed with 'em, but I don't get involved with the spirits." He wrinkled his nose at a snort from Andoval. "I'll speak up for you if she asks. Anyway, I want to keep an eye out here. Sit loose, Ando--I'll tell you all about it."

Shrugging, Radovin entered. It took a few blinks to clear the sun from his eyes before he could see Balekara reclining on her bed. She had raised herself on one elbow; now she beckoned with her other hand.

"Good day, Radovin."

He moved closer and knelt, looking down at the floor mat. "Good be with you, maduana"

"And with you. What is it you have to tell me?"

"There's...something evil in the Bull's camp." When she didn't reply for several breaths, he raised his head. Her eyes bored into him. He dropped his gaze.

"Something evil." Balekara seemed lost in thought for a moment. "Yes, but what, exactly."

"Ambelda has it. Or it has her." Radovin shook his head and swallowed hard. "I don't make any sense, maybe I'm just having sun dreams."

"No, I don't think so. Tayro has said Belda seems to be hiding something. He's bothered about it, but he's had more than enough to do with the rest of them and he didn't think she could make any real trouble. That band is going to split up, he thinks. There's a lot of bad feeling among them. Maybe you are on the track of the real cause of it all." Balekara sighed deeply and heaved herself into a sitting position. She pulled her light bedcover up around her. "Tell me what you know," she said. "Tell me what you feel."

Radovin rubbed his head and tried to think. What he felt was scared spitless; driven, compelled to resist an unknown force. "It's--like--like a dark hole, a pit-trap for spirits, ah? And something is in it watching me." He chewed at a fingernail while he sought more words.

Balekara nodded. "Fira," she called to the young woman who still sat on the other side of the tent, so quiet that Radovin had forgotten her presence. "Have a trot about and see who is free to join a working circle. Vila can come in to take care of things.

"So, what were you intending to do with that drum, ah? Not planning a shadow hunt on your own, I hope."

Reminded of the drum case clutched in his one-armed embrace, Radovin felt his cheeks heat up. "Oh, erm...no, but it's...connected."

"Connected?"

"There's something...Kayotar must have known, but...that one...he had something that--something with hm. I--I don't know, I just have this feeling that there is something there, and it's not him. And I need the drum."

Funny how he could tell a story well enough but when he needed to put his own thoughts into words, his tongue hid out and the thoughts dodged and tangled. He had another eerie impression of something just out of reach, and something else reaching for it. The tent was warm, but he shivered.

"One sees too much or not enough, ah?" Balekara said. "When a few more of us arrive, we'll go to Ambelda. What else can you tell me while we wait? Whatever is still at work in that camp may be more dangerous than we thought. The more we know about what we're up against, the better."

"Ambelda is into something with the raiders, Shugo told me. Not like her, more like something that one would do."

"But you don't think it is his spirit moving her."

"No. It's something else. I think I sort of saw it, behind him, once. Like a shadow. Just before he was struck." He rubbed a fingertip on the drum case. "I keep thinking of the story of the first sorcerer, the stone that held his power. I guess that was what made me ask Ambelda if she had the Heart-stone." Balekara's eyes widened, and she breathed in sharply. "But this isn't a story," Radovin added, his skin prickling with a sudden chill.

"No, but there's truth in all stories, that's why they are told and retold. The story of the Heart-stone has many layers of truth. Power can be abused, and too much power always demands more. It may be that we have something of that nature here, a talisman made with ill intent. What did she say to that?"

"She screamed a lot. I ran. That place all of a sudden scared the--stuff out of me." He hung his head.

"You're not too easily scared, are you?

"Um...."

Balekara smiled at his discomfited squirm. "More afraid of fat old women like me than of evil spirits, ah? No, you're no coward, young man. I know that. I may miss a fat calf for watching the herd pass by, but when I do open my eyes, I know what I see." Her head tilted farther, and she observed him from beneath half-closed lids. "It's hardest to see things that are too close to us for too long. That's why it was so easy for me, for all of us, to miss seeing the changes in Ivergan. He was always a stiff-necked bead rack, but he wasn't always a heart eater. He and Kayotar were friends once. Something came between them, more than just politics.

"Is there anything that you can recall about Ivergan that might have some bearing on it? You were honor-bound by that perfidious vow of his, but you must have noticed a thing or two. There may be something that you don't know that you know."

Radovin left his sense of urgency to search the past, letting one memory lead him into another, following any that promised a hint. He didn't know Cademura and Halezi had entered until he heard one of them sneeze and the other bless her. The sound brought him back to the present with a start, but he had found what he sought.

Ivergan, crouching at the back of his small lodge, clutching something in his hand. The hand had darted out of sight. The angry shaman threw the covering back over his cache of personal things and leaped up to grab his apprentice by the neck, snarling, "I should do it now." Radovin had taken a good beating that day, not knowing what he had done to deserve it. Until now.

Too close, yes, and too honorable. Not once had he ever laid hand or eye on anything that Ivergan forbade him to touch. That vow of obedience, that deadly lying snare, had held him fast with bonds of his own strict morality. Nor had he dared to question anything, restrained both by the oath and knowledge of certain, painful punishment.

"I should do it now." Yes, he had been lucky to get away from there. His hand moved toward his neck, where an ivory pendant no longer hung. There are many ways to cloud the mind. Magic is one, familiarity another. A combination of the two has great potency. He was certain now that the charm he had always worn, supposedly to protect others from his bad luck, had served a different purpose altogether. It had kept him from sensing the presence of the other thing. Or it had protected him from it, until Ivergan was ready to "make some use" of him. He shuddered.

"He did have a--thing," he said, his voice as cool and level as his thumping heart would allow.

"Ah? Who had a what?"

They all turned their heads at the voice from the door. "Hai, Morazhen," Balekara said, "come in. It's Ivergan we are discussing. It seems there are some loose ends yet."

"Huh. I thought so. Do we need to hold another release ceremony?"

Balekara shook her head. "There is more than just a restless spirit involved. It seems that he was a heart eater, a spirit stealer. Worse yet, he had a dangerously potent talisman. We believe that Ambelda has it now."

"Euhh. So that's it." Morazhen settled himself on a cushion. "Yes, that would explain a thing or two. That's a nice black eye you have, young fellow." He chuckled wheezily and poked the fire that the women had built up.

"I ran into a fist. But I scared it off." Radovin had to laugh despite his tension. He knew he was a pretty sight.

"I wonder. He didn't always have it on him, ah?" Morazhen's brow furrowed. His right eye looked directly at Radovin while the left vaguely aimed at the entrance. Morazhen's eyes never looked the same way at the same time. Ottavar said that let him see things other people missed. Maybe it was also why he seemed to talk in two directions at once.

"No, because I came in on him once and almost saw it. He might have worn it around his neck, hidden under his clothes, but kept it hidden away in his hut some of the time."

"He'd not have taken any chances with it here, I'd think. He'd have worn it, or kept it in his medicine bag." Morazhen frowned. "And that was buried with him. Ambelda wasn't involved in preparing the body. But she might have got at it in the night."

"She must have, but...." Radovin knew that Ambelda had a great fear of spirits, and would never have touched a corpse or anything laid with it without a great to-do and a cleansing. That made it all the more disturbing. "She'd never have done that, unless--"

"Unless the thing itself is so powerful that it drew her to it?" Balekara finished for him.

"It is," Radovin said, nodding forcefully. He described the protective amulet that Ivergan had made him wear. "It stood between me and that thing that he had, protected or--" Or had it made him more vulnerable? Would Ivergan have been able to track him if he hadn't flung the filthy thing? "I still felt it sometimes, in my dreams, the bad ones. I didn't know that's what was doing it, I was blind to it. There was something in the shadows--always waiting, never showing itself. My bad luck, I thought." So close to the truth for the wrong reasons. Vahé!

"Do you know whether it was of his own making, or whether he acquired it?"

"No, I'm sorry. He had it before I was ever there, I'm sure." A lot of things fell together now. Ivergan had not chosen him only as an apprentice. Why wait so long to use him...well, why didn't matter now. It had given him a chance.

Cademura leaned forward and motioned for his attention. "Radovin, did your bad dreams get stronger after you cast away your charm?"

"No...different. Better, mostly. But I was well away from there. Until now. I mean until I went into the Bull camp and slapped at the door." Ivergan would have had some protective spell over it, of course. Now it was freed, in the hands of one who knew no spiritual discipline, and he had brought himself to its attention as sure as dancing in front of a mad bull. Step in the muckhole every time I turn around!

"Distance would weaken the influence, yes." Cademura nodded. "And there are a lot more people here. That would shield you, I would think; until you came too close, as you said. You've had no clear sight or vision of it?" He shook his head, and she went on, "Well, we will have to get the thing from Ambelda before she causes more trouble with it. She'll have no control at all. It is certainly powerful, dangerous even for one of us. It corrupted Ivergan, and we never suspected. Together we might handle it safely. To dispose of it."

"That woman has been acting very strange," Halezi said. "Grief can affect someone badly, but she doesn't even mourn properly. She refuses to let Tayro take her through a complete cleansing, after what happened--vah!."

"She had it before the night raid and the killing, ah?" Morazhen said. "I wouldn't be surprised if she caused all that, pushing her son into that nasty trick."

That made sense. Bodisar hadn't ordered Pavo to try to kill Hacaben, he had been surprised, they said. Shit-for-brains might have done it on his own. He certainly would have responded to subtle nudges from a malign force, whether direct or through his mother. Ambelda might have brought about her own mate's bloody downfall merely by having the thing. Now she wanted to involve the rest of Pavo's pack in--what? His imperative need to do something resurged. "We have to stop her," he blurted. "She's going to--"

Jesumi's voice outside, breathless and dismayed, cut him short.

"Baz! Hai, is he here?"

"Yeah, Rado's here," Bazenaber answered. "What's all the fuss-up about?"

"No, I mean Ott--have you seen him? He's not in his tent."

Radovin felt as if he had just fallen through a hole in an ice-covered river.