Sianim 02 - Wolfsbane

had any training at all, barely knows how to call a light spell; he couldn’t tell me what he did even if you could persuade him to talk to me. Kisrah will know what his part in the spell was. Otherwise, two weeks doesn’t give me a lot of time to prowl through old books for an answer. Whether Kisrah knew it before your father was ensorcelled or not, he obviously knows that I am involved with you. Talking with him won’t make matters any worse.”
    “You don’t think that he’s the impetus behind this?”
    “He could be,” he said. “But he has information we need—and now that I’m rested, I can handle Kisrah if he tries anything.”
    “Then I’ll go look for him as soon as I finish with Sheen,” she said, and went back to work.
    Grooming was soothing and required just enough thought that she could distract herself from the worry that the Lyon would gradually fade into death no matter what they could do, and that the possibility the ae’Magi (and no other man held that title in her heart of hearts for all that it now belonged to Kisrah) was still alive lingered. Most of all, she could allow the work to keep her from the confession she was beginning to dread more than all the other evils the future could hold: How was she going to tell Wolf that she’d married him to keep him alive? It had seemed a good idea at the time. However, she’d had a chance to think it over. Would he see it as another betrayal?
    Sheen stamped and snorted, and Aralorn coaxed her hands to soften the strokes of the comb.
    “Shh,” she said. “Be easy.”

NINE

    It wasn’t as hard to find Kisrah as she had thought it might be. He was seated on a bench in the main hall, talking to Irrenna.
    “Truthfully, I don’t know what can be done, Irrenna. I have to find the wizard who initiated the spell—and it’s no one I’ve ever dealt with before.” He yawned.
    “We kept you up half the night with our problems,” said Irrenna apologetically.
    He took her hand and kissed it. “Not at all, Lady. I have been having troubled dreams lately. Perhaps I’ll go up and rest.”
    His words stopped Aralorn where she was, and an icy chill crept over her.
    Aralorn had been sleeping just fine. Her own dreams had stopped when Wolf had come back to guard her sleep.
    She’d been assuming that the dreaming had stopped because the one giving all of them dreams had either given up on her, changed his mind, or been kept out by some stray effect of Wolf’s power. What if it was something simpler than that? What if the dream sender was detectable in some way? Maybe he had stopped because he was worried Wolf would notice what he was doing.
    Perhaps, she thought, perhaps it might be better to watch what happened when Kisrah was asleep before she spoke to him. She turned on her heels and left before anyone saw her.
    “Why aren’t we chasing down Kisrah?” asked Wolf mildly.
    She glanced around hurriedly, though she knew Wolf wouldn’t have said anything if anyone could have overheard.
    “Tomorrow,” she said. “We’ll talk tomorrow. I want to go spend some time with Father.”

    Aralorn crouched on the rosewood wardrobe behind a green vase in the room Kisrah had been given. She’d spent most of the day avoiding the Archmage. She didn’t want to talk to him until after she’d done a little bit of spying.
    When she told Wolf what she planned, he’d paid her the compliment of not arguing: Or at least he restrained himself to a few pithy comments about certain people’s rashness leading them into hot water. She’d left him to stew in her room, wolves being somewhat more unexpected guests than mice were. And, although he’d tried other shapes, the only one he could hold on to reliably was the wolf. If she didn’t see anything in Kisrah’s room, then she and Wolf could hide Wolf from her brother Gerem while he slept. Not even Wolf could conceal himself from the Archmage with magic.
    She still hadn’t told him what she’d done by marrying him. She didn’t fear his anger—but she found that the thought of hurting him was painful. She’d have to do it soon, though. The whole thing would be worse than useless if he managed to get himself killed before she told him that his death would mean hers, too: There was one more reason than the obvious one that people didn’t lightly ask Ridane’s priests to officiate in weddings.
    Her hiding place wasn’t ideal. It gave her a clear view of the bed while leaving her well concealed behind the