Sianim 02 - Wolfsbane

amusing—sorcerer I have ever met. His death was a great tragedy.”
    Second-rate swordswoman, but first-rate actress; Aralorn knew that Kisrah could only hear the sincerity in her voice. It was the sort of addlepated garbage everyone said about the last ae’Magi and meant in its absurd, simplistic whole—thanks to the ae’Magi’s charisma spell, which lingered even now. If she hadn’t accused Geoffrey of creating the Uriah, she thought, she might have persuaded Kisrah of her innocence in the Archmage’s death.
    Kisrah frowned at her. “You were there that night. Wielding a mage’s staff ...” He hesitated a bare instant, but obviously decided he might as well push all the way. “Wielding Cain’s staff—it is very distinctive.”
    She wouldn’t help him convict Wolf. Aralorn gave Kisrah a puzzled look. “I was there that night, but I don’t recall any staff. I sometimes run messages for the Spymaster. When the Uriah started acting strangely, I left as soon as I could. I’m not a coward, but those things scare me. Look what they did to the ae’Magi.”
    Kisrah stared at her; she could almost taste his frustration. “The Uriah captured you for him. He had me translocate you to his castle. What did he want from you?”
    Aralorn shrugged and modified her story without a pause. “A misunderstanding, I’m afraid. He thought that I had some knowledge of the whereabouts of King Myr. You remember that was about the time Myr, distraught over his parents’ deaths, left without telling anyone where he had gone. It turns out that King Myr visited a healer, who lives quietly in the mountains near the king’s summer residence.” Without a qualm, she stuck to the official story. If it became widely known that Myr and the ae’Magi were enemies . . . it might confuse a lot of Myr’s followers who were still under the influence of the previous ae’Magi. Perhaps time would solve that—perhaps not. “I actually did know where he was, but was told not to tell anyone—you know how the Spymaster is. The ae’Magi didn’t intend any harm to him, obviously, but orders are orders. The ae’Magi eventually accepted that I couldn’t tell him anything.”
    Storytelling did come in handy sometimes, Aralorn reflected. Take a grain of truth and embellish it with nonsense, and it was more believable than what had actually happened. It wasn’t as if she really expected Kisrah to believe her anyway; she just wanted to keep him from deciding what had happened with any certainty.
    Wolf whined, and it echoed weirdly in the stone-enclosed corridor. Maybe he was worried about how much storytelling she was doing this night. Probably he was right.
    “Shall we go, Lord Kisrah? Or would you like to put me to the question? I’m certain Father has some old thumb-screws around here somewhere.”
    The Archmage stared at her as if the intensity of his gaze alone would be enough to pick through the tale she’d woven. His expression was as far removed from the charming man of his public image as Wolf was from a sheep. The pink wig looked like the absurd camouflage it was. He looked very tired, she thought suddenly—as if he had spent more than one sleepless night lately.
    “No doubt,” he said tautly, “torture would get another answer out of you, equally plausible and equally false.”
    Aralorn smiled pleasantly at him; it wasn’t difficult—few things gave her greater pleasure than frustrating someone else’s attempt to gain information. “No doubt,” she agreed congenially.
    “Sometimes,” he said with absolute conviction, “I wish there were a truth spell that really worked. Lead on, then, by all means,” he said with a sigh, abruptly shifting back to the harmless dandy. “I would take a look at this spell that holds your father.”
    The guard had returned to his duty.
    “Lord Kisrah is here to take a look at Father,” she told him.
    “Of course, Lady. Should I remain here, or would you like more privacy?”
    Aralorn looked to the Archmage, who shrugged his indifference.
    “Stay here,” she said to the guard. “I’d rather not have any curious souls wander in while the ae’Magi is here.”
    “Yes, Lady.” The guard smiled.
    “The wardings are different,” said Lord Kisrah, examining the curtains.
    Aralorn shrugged and dispelled her wards. “It was a onetime warding amulet. These wards are mine.”
    He opened the curtain and passed through, murmuring without looking at her. “The wardings were Cain’s