Sianim 02 - Wolfsbane

the night he died,” she continued mildly. “If your visitor was Geoffrey, then he put my father in danger—without Wolf’s cooperation, you three would not be able to remove the ensorcellment from my father. You have the word of a goddess that if it is not removed soon, the Lyon will die. Your dreamwalker asked you to work black magic upon an innocent man—is this something a good man would do? If it was not Geoffrey, then he doesn’t know what happened any more than you do.”
    Kisrah rubbed his eyes. “At any rate, Geoffrey’s story is the one I believed when he asked me to work some magic for him. It was supposed to be for you, Cain. It would not kill you, just hold you for the wizard’s council’s justice. I agreed. He told me that he needed me to find a secret room in his bedroom. So I found the room and the sword he’d hidden there. With his directions fresh in my mind, I inscribed on the sword the rune he told me. Runes are not my strong point, and the one he used was unfamiliar and complex. It required all of my concentration to get it right. Just as I finished the last line, something grabbed my shoulder.”
    He took a deep breath. “There was a Uriah standing just behind me, reflex took over, and I beheaded it with the sword—only then did magic pour into the rune I’d just finished.” Kisrah closed his eyes. “I didn’t know it needed blood magic. I don’t think I did. At the time, I told myself it was an accident that turned the spell black. I wanted to destroy the sword, offered to spell something else for him—anything else.”
    The Archmage sighed. “He said that the sword was the only sure bait, that perhaps the black magic would work in our favor. Even the Master Spells had failed to hold Cain; maybe it would take black magic to counter black magic. Geoffrey was always good at getting his own way by fair means or foul.” He paused, as if surprised by what he’d said. “By the time I realized that he’d intended to use black magic all along, I was already resigned to it. Maybe I’d have done it for him anyway.”
    “Did Geoffrey tell you to send the sword here, or did you suggest it?” asked Aralorn. When the Archmage had died, he knew that she and Wolf were together—but she was certain that he hadn’t made the connection between her and Lambshold. She took great care that most people didn’t know.
    “Geoffrey,” he said. “The night after I brought the sword back with me, he told me he wanted me to send it to Nevyn. He told me that Nevyn’s sister by marriage was Cain’s lover. I sent the sword. Only afterward did I begin to question what I had done.”
    The hen clucked in its crate, reminding everyone in the room (except perhaps for Gerem and Nevyn, who Aralorn was not certain knew what they’d been planning) that black magic was needed to release the Lyon. Aralorn looked at the bird thoughtfully for a moment.
    “Perhaps a more noble motive might have allowed me to shut my eyes longer to what I had done.” Kisrah smiled grimly at Wolf. “I didn’t work the spell to capture Cain and save the world from dark magic—I worked it for revenge. I hated you for taking my friend from me. I knew that the end result of Geoffrey’s plan was your death.”
    “I would have expected no less,” agreed Wolf softly. “I know what he was to you. What was the rune he had you draw?”
    From an inner pocket, Kisrah produced a sheet of paper with two neat drawings he gave to Wolf. Since drawing the rune itself would activate it, rune patterns were split into two drawings that, when laid one over the other, formed the rune. Aralorn had never been able to put the patterns together in her head without getting a headache, but Wolf nodded, as if it made sense to him.
    “What did he have you add to it?” he asked Nevyn.
    Nevyn had taken a seat on the floor where he could lean against the wall, as far from where Wolf stood as he could get. He had listened to Kisrah’s story with his eyes closed; dark shadows and lines of weariness touched his face. At Wolf’s question, he dug into the pouch attached to his belt and mutely handed him two sheets of paper.
    Wolf took them and held them up separately, frowning. “Where did you place it? On the blade as well?”
    Nevyn nodded. “Farther down on the blade, near the point.”
    “Another binding spell of some sort,” said Kisrah after a moment of staring over Wolf’s shoulder. “Had you seen it before, Nevyn?”
    He shook his