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Unmate who sold them the information had told the truth, hard as it was to
believe. Ginbiryol had a moment s regret that he d let Puk have the
creature to play with before he d squeezed every drop of data from him about
this putative god incarnate, but that was unimportant at the moment; if he
wanted more data, all he need do was reach out and take it. He decided all
that mattered was Kikun s belief in this absurdity; his conviction would
convince others without him doing anything. Especially if they wanted to
believe.
Luck. The Lady had brought him everything in one throw of his net. Even though
this girl was insolent and probably dangerous, she was quite
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satisfactory as Virgin God. If he didn t need her in the production,
he d have her as Penitent in a Praisesong none of them would forget; as it was
he would have to make do with the end Ayawit had waiting for her. Luck, yes.
Kikun was a demigod and the Ciocan with his tied-beasts was perfect for the
Hunter. Gathering him up had given Ginbiryol more than a little satisfaction.
It was a smail earnest of the payment Family Voallts were going to make him
for the insult
I
they had put on him when they refused to deal with his agent. There was not a
man, woman, or other alive who could say he had put the hurt on Ginbiryol
Seyirshi. He did not allow that to happen. If it did happen, he erased it.
The Ciocan had felt his hand al-ready, the rest of Family Voallts
would be destroyed one by one when he found time to deal with them.
Calming himself by thinking of that and of the Ciocan s inevitable, unenviable
end, he produced a smile, chirruped to the Pet and coaxed the simi to his lap.
Stroking the round velvety head, he turned to
Puk.  We must see that her end is a strong chastisement of her insolence.
Pukanuk Pousli looked wary.  Yes, sir.
He didn t elaborate. It irritated Ginbiryol that he didn t elaborate. He kept
his eyes fixed on Puk the
Lute, a silent inescapable demand for more. Behind the gaze, though, he
relaxed a little, pleased, when he saw Puk s face begin to shine with sweat.
The Lute fidgeted. Finally he said,  You want I should get onto one of our men
in Kiscomaskin s camp, say Shipayupal, and have him set up a coast search so
he can find them?
 It would have been more use if you d alerted him the minute the search and
slaughter began.
 Yes, sir. I missed that, I was inexcusably blind to possibilities.
The words were contrite, but Ginbiryol could read a cavil behind them:
You didn t think of either.
it
It was becoming clear that Puk was going to need disciplining and
soon. Perhaps even before this operation was com-pleted. He made a note to
set a personal, dedicated closeEYE on his Second and check it frequently.
 Apol-ogies will not restore Asteplikota if he dies, Puk. If I told you once,
I have said it a dozen times ... he relished the fear he saw in his tame
killer, the drop of sweat that collected at the end of Puk s nose and splatted
onto the arms he d folded across his ribs in an absurdly childish sketch of
self-protection,  ... I need Asteplikota alive and ambulatory. See that it is
accomplished. He did not wait for Puk to answer him but turned to his
scanning of the other cells.
Chapter 13. Still running. When do we get to stop?
A touch on her arm drew Shadith out of a restless, hag-ridden sleep. She
pushed the blanket away and sat up, brushing the sand off the side of her
face. Kikun squatted beside her, waiting for her to get herself to-gether
enough to notice him.  What is it this time? she muttered. She plucked at
her hair, grimaced at the knots and the greasy stickiness, smiled as Kikun
passed over the comb he d gotten from her pouch.  Intuition or foresight?
 There s a sail on the horizon. It looks like you got through to Ginny and
he s been pulling strings.
Shadith winced as she worked the comb into a serious tangle. She continued
teasing at the knot while she thought over what he d said.  Not more trouble
from the Powers?
He fluttered his fingers, an inadequate answer but obviously all she was going
to get.
 Hmm. Aste?
He blinked slowly, coming back from somewhere, wher-ever it was he went on
these occasions of absence; small changes eddied across his fine-boned,
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angular face, but even with her Talent she had no idea what they meant. When
he spoke, though, his words were prosaic enough.
 About the same. Still under, fever s no better no worse.
 Don t need to ask about Rohant, I can hear him snoring from here. She
dragged impatiently at the comb, swore as it tore out a clump of hair.  I
suppose I should take a look, find out who they are for sure. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]