Diffraction

Chapter Forty: Not for Oneself

"I am no longer certain they wish to stop it. Perhaps they also welcome a final reckoning."

Vaerandir crouched in the shade beneath a stone overhang and peered down the length of the gorge. The jagged peaks of the Chornaurens pierced the sky far above. But they left deep crevasses and ravines where Aulis rarely shed His radiant light. Cold stone and sharp edges dominated the barren landscape, the occasional bramble or thorngrass plant clinging to life against all odds.

He knew they hunted him, these obscure cultists of Cora. The spread of some new cult bothered him little. Men forever offered their worship to lies of some kind. But in their ignorance these cultists approached a truth long buried, one Vaerandir meant to keep concealed.

They sought relics of Queen Cora's reign a thousand years earlier, or so the Nightshadow they hired had said. And they boasted they'd been sent on that task by Kal.

Kaalistera, who it seems must have been a Shadewrought.

Lyllithe's tale of the incident at the Conclave created questions in Vaerandir's mind. How many Shadewrought might be operating in the Cities? Could they also disguise themselves in ways imperceptible to both Arcanists and servants of the Divine? The girl's account indicated an unknown accomplice, but more than one noble could be under the sway of An'Khel's servants.

Or be replaced by them.

Tracking down the Shadewrought while cut off from the Divine posed a troubling and as-yet-unsolved problem. Even more difficult, he'd have to figure out how to kill them.

Dealing with a band of cultist braggards seemed tame by comparison. At first, Vaerandir welcomed the break from weighty issues and political intrigue.

But the cultists' near-success bothered him.

"Had they chosen a lair half a day's walk south," he muttered at the silence of the Divine, "what might they have found? Have You considered that possibility? Imagine if the Cities knew what lay beneath the stones. Imagine if they learned who put it there."

No answer. But Vaerandir stopped expecting one. The Aspects of the Divine tended to ignore servants who went their own way.

Which left the curious question of Lyllithe Aulistane and her Gracemark. "You punish me, You cut me off, You shut Your ears to my prayers. But she gets to do whatever she pleases and it's all good. How is she not scarred several times over by now?"

Still no answer.

Rocks skittered on the slopes nearby, announcing his hunters' arrival.

Loud prayers proved a terrible tactic for stealth. But since he knew there would be no answer, the prayers served another purpose.

His voice lured the hunters to their target, and they became his prey.

The cultists tromped through the bottom of the narrow gorge, heading straight for Vaerandir's concealed position. He locked back his pistol crossbows one at a time, hands guiding the mechanism in silence. Then he leveled the weapons at the obvious point of approach and waited.

"Watch the loose rocks," a man's voice whispered. "For a former cutpurse, you're a scarrin' clumsy old hag in the wild."

"Clap that rancid hole shut," a woman hissed, "or I'll use it to store my throwin' knives. You know I can, you filthy mouth-breathin' Kem-spawn."