Sianim 02 - Wolfsbane

magic had been a caress rather than a strike.
    “You weren’t attacking her ,” said Halven impatiently. “The only one who had anything to worry about in this room was you.”
    Wolf looked away from them both. He reached up to touch his mask, something he did when he was uncomfortable. But his mask wasn’t there, and when his fingers touched the scars, he flinched. Aralorn wasn’t the only one who saw it.
    “When you want to be rid of that reminder,” said Halven, “come to me, and I’ll teach you how to heal yourself. You’ve the power, and I can teach you the skill.” He looked at the floor, where the baneshade had been. “It was best to destroy the baneshade anyway. It seemed to be focused on Aralorn, and the things can be dangerous in a place as old as this.”
    “Plague it,” said Aralorn softly, as a sudden thought occurred to her. “Kisrah is coming here. We might have a problem.”
    “What is it?” Wolf tightened like a predator scenting prey; even his body seemed to lose the fatigue that had made his moves less fluid than usual.
    “The night your father died, when I came back after you, Lord Kisrah was there.”
    “He would know you?” asked Wolf intently. “As the daughter of the Lyon?”
    “Although I have absented myself as much as possible from human affairs,” broke in Halven mildly, “I do know that this has become a dangerous conversation. I wish to know nothing about Geoffrey ae’Magi’s death.” He hesitated. “If you survive all of this, Wolf . . . come to me, and we will talk about your recalcitrant magic. Good luck to you both.” He heaved up the bar on the door to the outside and left by that way.
    Aralorn shut the door behind him and settled the bar back in place. “Kisrah saw me quite clearly, as a matter of fact—I wasn’t expecting to run into anyone at the time, so I was wearing my own face. I don’t think he connected me with my father—we would have heard something. Kisrah was caught well and good by the last ae’Magi’s spells. If he knew, he’d have come after me before this. But he can hardly miss me when he comes here.”
    “I can handle Kisrah if he becomes a problem,” Wolf said mildly enough to frighten Aralorn.
    “Thank you,” she said. “But I don’t think that we would survive killing a second ae’Magi.”
    “We could do it every year on the anniversary of my father’s death,” suggested Wolf. “Though technically Kisrah would be our first, as my father was killed by the Uriah after you stole his magic.”
    He was joking, she thought, though sometimes it was difficult to tell. He liked it that way.
    “I saved Kisrah’s life,” she said, returning to the matter at hand. “The lady he was sleeping with had a tendency to eat her lovers. Sadly, he was unconscious, so he won’t know he owes me.” She ran her fingers over her father’s hand. It was cool to the touch. She continued thoughtfully. “You know, he obviously didn’t recognize me at the time, but he has the right contacts. If he wanted to find out badly enough who I was, he could. As ae’Magi, he would have access to all the knowledge of black magic he wished.”
    “Especially with most of my father’s library at his disposal,” agreed Wolf as he took a step back and leaned against the wall. Not to relax, noticed Aralorn worriedly, but to keep himself upright. His consonants softened with fatigue, leaving his voice difficult to understand. “It is true that he was very close to my father, certainly close enough to thirst for revenge. But I know Kisrah; he would never touch the black arts.”
    “Neither would Nevyn,” said Aralorn somberly.
    Wolf sighed. “I don’t want it to be him. I like him, Aralorn.” Wolf didn’t like many people. Aralorn suspected that he could count them on the fingers of one hand, with fingers left over. “Shortly before I left, when I was at my most vicious, he cornered me. He told me he was concerned about rumors he’d been hearing. Things that might get a man killed if the wrong person heard about them. He suggested that the rumors might die down without more sparks to fuel them.”
    “What did you tell him?”
    Wolf’s scarred lips quirked in an attempt at a smile. “I invited him to meet me at the next full moon and find out if they were true.”
    “Not overly intelligent on your part, my love,” observed Aralorn dryly. “If he’d gone to the council, they’d have been able to pull you in for questioning.”
    “I