87: THE TREE TUNNELS
(Teraeth’s story)
The passage led deep into the tree. Where, exactly, was a mystery to Teraeth, but not, it seemed, to Talon.
“How do you even know about this place?” Teraeth asked as they traveled. The passage was narrow and, like most construction inside the Mother of Trees, seemed less carved than a space where the tree had simply decided not to grow. The passage was lit by veins of sundew that filtered down, the stuff no doubt eventually reaching its final destination of various gardens and wilderness areas at the roots of the massive tree.
“We can’t stop,” Talon warned. “I learned about it from the charming Laudvyis—the king’s double I killed back there. So as soon as Kelanis stops and realizes I had time for a snack, he’ll think to look here.”
Teraeth growled. “Okay, different question: How did you get past the wards?”
Talon began laughing.
“No, really, I’d like to know,” Teraeth said. “Because as far as I know, the palace is supposed to be completely warded against mimics. How did you even get in here? Also, could you please stop looking like Kihrin?”
Despite her warning that they needed to keep moving, Talon stopped and turned back to face Teraeth. “I thought you liked Kihrin.”
“I do,” Teraeth said, “which is exactly why I don’t want you taking his form.”
She shrugged and changed her shape, this time choosing to look like Miyathreall. That was a slight improvement. “Better?”
“Not really. Now about how you got here?”
Talon grinned. “You’ve been lied to, my handsome boy. The palace isn’t warded against mimics at all.”
He frowned. “But, uh—”
“It’s warded against the souls of the twelve vané who became mimics.” She glanced backward as she started walking again, this time up the stairs. “Did you know there are only twelve? And the vané know exactly who they are. Well, they used to know, anyway.”
Teraeth’s eyes widened. “But yours isn’t the same soul.”
“Why no, it isn’t, is it? My souls belongs to a former Quuros slave girl, and thus, there isn’t a single ward anywhere in the palace that’s set up to stop me. I can easily fool the wards meant to weed out anyone without royal blood in their veins. The only thing I wouldn’t be able to fool would be that soul ward, except again, it’s not set to detect me. Lucky me.” She grinned.
“So you just snuck in.” Teraeth shook his head. He was actually sad that it hadn’t worked.
“Oh, I didn’t have to sneak. They invited me in, under armed escort, no less.”
Teraeth rolled his eyes, thinking back to the prison chair and the shackles in the library. “You’re why Kelanis thought he had Kihrin. We’d wondered if that might be the case.”
“Aren’t you clever.” Talon stopped once more and turned around. “I want your word that you’ll let me go.”
“Excuse me? You’re a mimic. Your word isn’t any good. Why would I think you’d believe mine?” Teraeth looked around the luminous passageway. He had no idea how to get back to the rest of the palace, let alone the party, where he suspected Janel was already causing a bit of a fuss.
This was not an ideal location in which to be stuck with the mimic.
“Kihrin trusts you.” The mimic looked him up and down, slowly. A calculating gleam came into her eyes. “I want your word that if I help you get out of this, you won’t try to kill me, capture me, paralyze me, or any of the like.”
In the silence that followed, Teraeth liked to imagine he could hear the tree herself. The scrabble of insects. The drill of tiny occupying feet. Distantly, the sound of one of the doors being thrown open and men begin to pour into the secret passage.
Teraeth chuckled. “You’re a survivor, you know that?” He could almost respect it.
Talon smirked at him and ran a hand down the front of his chest. Teraeth didn’t try to stop her. There seemed little point; she could simply grow a new hand if she wanted to make the effort. At least she didn’t look like Kihrin at the time; he considered that a win.
“So we have a deal?” she asked.
Teraeth nodded. “We have a deal.”
They came out of the tunnel into one of the upper passages of the palace. Talon quickly changed her form to look like one of the servants; Teraeth set up illusions to do the same.
Everything, all around them, was chaos.
Janel must’ve started setting fires. She might have been doing more—the vané were, after all, very good at putting out fires, but still seemed to be running around in a blind panic. Teraeth had no time to question it. He could simply take advantage of the mayhem in order to blend with the crowds who were all rapidly trying to evacuate.
Halfway through the main hall, Teraeth spotted Janel. She gave no outward sign that she was the one causing the fires. She never moved her fingers, she never said any words, and indeed she seemed to be in tears. But Teraeth knew her well enough to realize that was all a ruse.
Talon and he caught up with her, and Teraeth took Janel’s arm.
“Are you all right?” he said with all the care of a worried lover. “I’ve been looking for you all evening.”
“I—” Janel doubled over in pain.
Teraeth blinked. This didn’t seem staged, and he didn’t understand the point of it. She seemed to be in genuine distress.
He bent down over. “Janel,” he whispered, “what’s going on? What’s wrong?”
Janel collapsed.
He picked her up immediately and motioned for Talon to follow him to the exit. At some point on the journey, he turned around and realized that Talon had somehow managed to change her form until she looked like one of the better known members of the royal court.
“Come, then,” Talon ordered imperiously. “We’ll take her back to my estates and find out what is the matter. Probably just all the excitement caused an attack of nerves.”
“Yes,” Teraeth managed to stammer.
The fires stopped without Janel to continue them, but the damage had already been done. No one wanted to stay at the palace, which meant they had all the cover they might possibly want for their escape. It also meant no one noticed when the illusions on Teraeth and Janel fell away.
They fled out into the night while Janel shuddered in Teraeth’s arms.