Ravenna watched him walk away into the night. She tugged her cloak about herself, feeling her failure to keep Maximilian from Ishbel even more keenly than the cold. She had truly thought for a while that he realized the danger. He’d told Ishbel that Ravenna was carrying his child and that he would cleave to Ravenna, and then he’d allowed his guilt to overwhelm him and doubts to assail him.
He’d gone back to Ishbel. Not an hour had passed since he’d turned his back on Ishbel, and now he’d gone straight back to the woman.
Ravenna loved Maximilian, and she wanted the best for him, but his weakness as far as Ishbel was concerned drove her to despair. Maximilian had responsibilities and concerns far beyond Ishbel—far beyond anyone. He was Lord of Elcho Falling, and Elcho Falling should come first, otherwise this entire land would fall into ruin.
Maximilian needed to put Elcho Falling before Ishbel, and now Ravenna doubted very much that he could do that.
For months Ravenna had entertained doubts about Ishbel. In the past few weeks they’d firmed into certainty as she’d become more certain of the vision within the Land of Dreams. Ishbel had a weakness about her that would doom Maximilian—and through him this entire land—if he took her back as wife. But Maximilian resented it whenever Ravenna tried to talk to him about Ishbel. Even considering all the pain Ishbel had already brought into his life—her loss of their daughter, her affair with the Tyrant, Isaiah—Maximilian wouldn’t hear anything said against her. Taking Maximilian into the Land of Dreams tonight had been a calculated risk—Ravenna had dared it only as a last resort—and it had failed.
“Damn you, Maxel,” Ravenna whispered; then she turned away and walked slowly deeper into the night.
Thank the gods, she thought, that she had conceived Maximilian’s son. The child represented hope.
If not the father, then maybe the son.
Maximilian strode away from Ravenna, absolutely furious with her. This was not merely for her persistent harping about Ishbel, but because she had decided to harp just at the moment when he’d felt Kanubai vanish. All Maximilian wanted to do was to try and make some sense of what had happened to Kanubai, to concentrate on what might have happened to him, and all Ravenna could do was chirrup on and on about Ishbel.
Could she not leave well enough alone, for just one minute?
He had walked away, not daring to speak. He’d allowed Ravenna to think he was going back to Ishbel because he was so angry that he simply did not trust himself to open his mouth.
And he did not want to think about what Ravenna had showed him. Not right now. Not when something had just happened to make the entire world shift on its axis.
Maximilian walked through the camp, looking for Isaiah, hoping that he had also felt the surge of emptiness from the south and hoping that Isaiah might have been able to make some sense of it.
“Maxel.”
Maximilian spun about. Isaiah was emerging from between a line of tents, his face strained.
Axis SunSoar was a step behind him.
“You felt it,” Maximilian said to Isaiah.
Isaiah gave a curt nod. “Is there somewhere close we can speak? My tent is some distance.”
“Not my tent,” Maximilian said. He couldn’t face Ravenna again this soon, and he also didn’t want her to hear what might be said on this subject. “Axis?”
“Mine is close enough,” Axis said, and led them a few minutes through the maze of horse lines and campfires to his tent, set close to that of StarDrifter and Salome’s. He held aside the flap, then indicated his father’s tent. “Should I ask my father…?”
Maximilian shook his head. “Not just yet.”
Axis’ tent, like that of all the main commanders, was commodious, high-ceilinged and well appointed. The three men pulled out chairs and sat at a large folding camp table. Axis’ body servant, Yysell, set out a jug of ale and three beakers, then left the tent.
All three men ignored the ale.
“What’s wrong?” said Axis. “Isaiah said something had happened.”
Isaiah and Maximilian exchanged a glance.
“Something has happened to Kanubai,” said Maximilian. “Very suddenly, within this past half hour. It felt to me as if all the threat associated with him suddenly dissipated.”
Isaiah gave a nod. “I felt it, too.”
“What do you mean,” Axis said, “when you say that all the threat about Kanubai ‘suddenly dissipated’?”
Maximilian and Isaiah exchanged another glance.
“Kanubai is gone,” said Isaiah. “No more. Dead.”
“Then why the long faces?” said Axis. “Surely, if Kanubai is dead, then…” He stopped, realizing the implications. “Oh gods…is it DarkGlass Mountain? Has DarkGlass Mountain taken Kanubai?”
Maximilian gave a slight shrug. “I don’t know.” He rubbed at his forehead with one hand, looking exhausted. “Kanubai was so powerful…what else could have taken him save the glass mountain. Isaiah?”
“I think the pyramid might be even more dangerous than Kanubai,” Isaiah said. “Lister,” he continued, naming his ancient ally, “and I had wondered before if we’d been concentrating on the wrong enemy all this time.”
“Oh, for all the gods’ sakes,” Maximilian muttered. “Why do I feel as if the ground is constantly shifting beneath my feet?” He paused. “Isaiah, where is Lister now? When will he be here?”
“He is flesh now, as I,” said Isaiah. “He can only travel as flesh. He was most recently in the FarReach Mountains, and it may take him weeks to get here. We need to know what has happened, but I think that all of us are too tired. Maxel, have you been to bed at all? No? Neither have I. I think—”
“I want to talk to you about the pyramid, Isaiah,” Maximilian said.
“Tomorrow, Maxel. Perhaps by then, refreshed, we will have gleaned more of what has happened. May I suggest we all meet in the afternoon? Axis, bring your father as well, and perhaps Malat and Georgdi. In the meantime—”
Isaiah stopped as the door of Axis’ tent opened and Ishbel looked in.
She gave Maximilian an unreadable glance, then looked at Isaiah. “Isaiah,” she said, “may I speak with you? It is important.”