Can in daylight, Renna said.
Not with two broken legs, the Parchin said. Got this, Ren. Honest word.
We shall see, Parchin.
There was a smacking of lips as the son of Jeph kissed his jiwahs remaining protests away. Need you back in the Hollow keepin an eye on things. Now, fore they get suspicious.
Leesha Papers already suspicious, Renna said. Her guesses ent far from the mark.
Dont matter, long as they stay guesses, the Parchin said. You just keep playin dim, no matter what she says or does.
Renna gave a stunted laugh. Ay, that wont be a problem. Like makin her want to spit.
Dont waste too much time on it, the Parchin said. Need you to protect the Hollow, but keep a low profile. Strengthen the folk, but let them carry the weight. Ill skate in when I can, but only to see you. No one else can know Im alive.
Dont like it, Renna said. Man and wife shouldnt be apart like this.
The Parchin sighed. Ent nothin for it, Ren. Bettin the farm on this throw. Cant afford to lose. Ill see you soon enough.
Ay, Renna said. Love you, Arlen Bales.
Love you, Renna Bales, the Parchin said. They kissed again, and Jardir heard rapid footsteps as she descended the tower. The Parchin, however, began to climb.
For a moment Jardir thought to feign sleep. Perhaps he might learn something; gain the element of surprise.
He shook his head. I am SharDama Ka. It is beneath me to hide. I will meet the Parchins eyes and see what remains of the man I knew.
He propped himself up, embracing the roar of pain in his legs. His face was serene as the Parchin entered. He wore plain clothes, much as he had when they first met, a cotton shirt of faded white and worn denim trousers with a leather Messenger satchel slung over one shoulder. His feet were bare, pant and shirt cuffs rolled to show the wards he had inked into his skin. His sand-colored hair was shaved away, and the face Jardir remembered was barely recognizable under all the markings.
Even without his crown, Jardir could sense the power of those symbols, but the strength came with a heavy price. The Parchin looked more like a page from one of the holy scrolls of warding than a man.
What have you done to yourself, old friend? He had not meant to speak the words aloud, but something pushed him.
Got a lot of nerve callin me that, after what you did, the Parchin said. Dint do this to myself. You did this to me.
I? Jardir asked. I took ink and profaned your body with it?
The Parchin shook his head. You left me to die in the desert, without weapon or succor, and knew Id be corespawned before I let the alagai have me. My body was the only thing you left me to ward.
With those words, all Jardirs questions about how the Parchin had survived were answered. In his minds eye he saw his friend alone in the desert, parched and bloodied as he beat alagai to death with his bare hands.
It was glorious.
The Evejah forbade the tattooing of flesh, but it forbade many things Jardir had since permitted for the sake of Sharak Ka. He wanted to condemn the Parchin, but his throat tightened at the truth of the mans words.
Jardir shivered as a chill of doubt touched his center. No thing happened, but that Everam willed it. It was inevera that the Parchin should live to meet him again. The dice said each of them might be the Deliverer. Jardir had dedicated his life to being worthy of that title. He was proud of his accomplishments, but could not deny that his ajinpal, the brave outsider, might have greater honor in Everams eyes.
You play at rituals you do not understand, Parchin, he said. Domin Sharum is to the death, and victory was yours. Why did you not take it and claim your place at the lead of the First War?
The Parchin sighed. Theres no victory in your death, Ahmann.
Then you admit I am the Deliverer? Jardir asked. If that is so, then return my spear and crown to me, put your head to the floor, and have done. All will be forgiven, and we can face Nie side by side once more.
The Parchin snorted. He set his satchel on the table, reaching inside. The Crown of Kaji gleamed even in the growing darkness, its nine gems glittering. Jardir could not deny the desire the item stirred in him. If hed had legs to stand, he would have leapt for it.
The Parchin snorted. He set his satchel on the table, reaching inside. The Crown of Kaji gleamed even in the growing darkness, its nine gems glittering. Jardir could not deny the desire the item stirred in him. If hed had legs to stand, he would have leapt for it.
Crowns right here. The Parchin spun the pointed circlet on a finger like a childs hoop toy. But the spear ent yours. Least, not less I decide to give it to you. Hidden where you can never get it, even if your legs wernt casted.
The holy items belong together, Jardir said.
The Parchin sighed again. Nothings holy, Ahmann. Told you once before Heaven was a lie. You threatened to kill me over the words, but that doesnt make em any less true.
Jardir opened his mouth to reply, angry words forming on his lips, but the Parchin cut him off, catching the spinning crown in a firm grip and holding it up. As he did, the wards on his skin throbbed briefly with light, and those on the crown began to glow.
This, the Parchin said of the crown, is a thin band of mind demon skull and nine horns, coated in a warded alloy of silver and gold, focused by gemstones. It is a masterwork of wardcraft, but nothing more.
He smiled. Much as your earring was.
Jardir started, raising his hand to touch the bare lobe his wedding ring had once pierced. Do you mean to steal my First Wife, as well as my throne?
The Parchin laughed, a genuine sound Jardir had not heard in years. A sound he could not deny he had missed.
Not sure which would be the greater burden, the Parchin said. I want neither. I have a wife, and among my people one is moren enough.
Jardir felt a smile tug at his lips, and he let it show. A worthy Jiwah Ka is both support and burden, Parchin. They challenge us to be better men, and that is ever a struggle.
The Parchin nodded. Honest word.
Then why have you stolen my ring? Jardir demanded.
Just holding on to it while youre under my roof, the Parchin said. Cant have you calling for help.
Eh? Jardir said.
The Parchin tilted his head at him, and Jardir could feel the son of Jephs gaze reaching into his soul, much as Jardir did when he had the gift of crownsight. How did the Parchin do it without the crown at his brow?
You dont know, the Parchin said after a moment. He barked a laugh. Giving me marriage advice while your own wife spies on you!
The derision in his tone angered Jardir, and his brows drew tight despite his desire to keep his face calm. What is that supposed to mean?
The Parchin reached into his pocket, producing the earring. It was a simple hoop of gold with a delicate warded ball hanging from it. Theres a broken piece of demon bone in here, with its opposite half in your wifes ear. Lets her hear everything you do.
Suddenly so many mysteries became clear to Jardir. How his wife seemed to know his every plan and secret. Much of her information came from the dice, but the alagai hora spoke in riddles as oft as not. He should have known cunning Inevera would not rely on her castings alone.
So she knows youve kidnapped me? Jardir asked.
The Parchin shook his head. Blocked its power. She wont be able to find you before were finished here.
Jardir crossed his arms. Finished with what? You will not follow me, and I will not follow you. We stand at the same impasse we found five years ago in the Maze.
The Parchin nodded. You couldnt bring yourself to kill me then, and it forced me to change how I see the world. Offering you the same. With that, he tossed the crown across the room.
Instinctively, Jardir caught it. Why return it to me? Wont this heal my wounds? You may have difficulty holding me without them.
The Parchin shrugged. Dont think youll leave without the spear, but Ive drained the crown in any event. Not a lot of magic venting from the Core makes it this high, he waved his hand at the windows circling the room on all sides, and the sun cleans out this room each morning. Itll give you crownsight, but not much else until its recharged.
So why return it to me? Jardir asked again.
Thought we might have a talk, the Parchin said. And I want you to see my aura while we do. Want you see the truth of my words, the strength of my convictions, written on my very soul. Perhaps then, youll come to see.
Come to see what? Jardir asked. That Heaven is a lie? Nothing written on your soul can do that, Parchin. Nevertheless, he slipped the crown onto his head. Immediately the darkened room came alive with crownsight, and Jardir breathed deep in relief, like the blind man in the Evejah, given his sight back by Kaji.
Through the windows, land that had been nothing but shadows and vague shapes a moment ago became sharply defined, lit with the magic that vented from Ala. All living things held a spark of power at their core, and Jardir could see strength glowing in the trunks of trees, the moss that clung to them, and every animal that lived within their branches and bark. It ran through the grasses of the plains and, most of all, in the demons that stalked the land and rode the winds. The alagai shone like beacons, waking a primal desire in him to hunt and kill.
As the Parchin had warned, his cell was dimmer. Small tendrils of power drifted up the tower walls, Drawn to the wards etched into the glass windows. They flickered to life, a shield against the alagai.
But though the room was dim, the Parchin shone brighter than a demon. So bright it should be difficult to look at him. But it was not. Quite the contrary, the magic was glorious to behold, rich and tempting. Jardir reached out through the crown, attempting to Draw a touch of it to himself. Not so much the Parchin might sense the drain, but perhaps enough to speed his healing. A wisp of power snaked through the air toward him like incense smoke.
The Parchin had shaved his brows, but the wards above his left eye lifted in an unmistakable expression. His aura shifted, showing more bemusement than offense. Ah-ah. Get your own. Abruptly, the magic reversed its flow and was Drawn back into him.
Jardir kept his face calm, though he doubted it made a difference. The Parchin was right. He could read the mans aura, seeing his every feeling, and had no doubt his old friend could do the same. The Parchin was calm, centered, and meant Jardir no harm. There was no deception in him. Only weariness, and fear Jardir would be too rigid to give his words fair consideration.