Gardens of the Moon

“Not alone? Did he explain that?”



Paran shrugged. “Said the dust walks around the Adjunct, the d shifts beneath her boots, and the wind whispers of frost and fire.” He raised his eyebrows. “Does that explain anything? Damned if I know.”



Tattersail strode to her dresser. She began to remove the scant jewellery she'd donned for the dinner. “I think it does,” she said slowly. “Did he say anything else?”



“He did. He said that the Adjunct and her companion were leaving Pale soon, and that he intended to track them. Sorceress:”



She saw that Paran was struggling with something, as if fighting his every instinct. Tattersail laid one arm on the dresser and waited. When he met her gaze, her breath caught. “You were about to say something,” she said, her voice low. Her heart was pounding all too fast, and she felt her body responding as if of its own accord. The look she'd seen in his eyes had been clear in its meaning.



“I know something of the Adjunct's mission,” he said. “I was to be her contact in Darujhistan.”



Whatever had been building between them disintegrated as Tattersail's eyes went hard and anger darkened her face. “She's going to Darujhistan is she? And you and she were to oversee the long-awaited demise of the Bridgeburners. Together, you thought you'd be able to kill Whiskeyjack, to cut down his squad from within.”



“No!” Paran took a step forward, but when Tattersail shot out her hand, palm facing him, he froze. “Wait,” he whispered. “Before you do anything, just hear me out.”



Her Thyr Warren surged into her hand, eager for release. “Why? Damn Oponn for letting you live!”



“Tattersail, please!” She scowled. “Speak.”



Paran stepped back and turned to a nearby chair. Hands held out at his sides, he sat down and looked up at her.



“Keep those hands there,” Tattersail commanded. “Away from your sword.”



“This has been the Adjunct's personal mission, from the very start. Three years ago I was stationed in Itko Kan, Officers Corps. One day every available soldier was mustered out and marched to a section of the coast road.” Paran's hands had begun to shake, and the muscles of his jaw stood out. “What we saw there, Tattersail, you would not believe.”



She recalled Quick Ben and Kalam's story. “A massacre. A company cavalry.”



Astonishment showed on Paran's face. “How did you know?”



“Go on, Captain,” she grated.



“Adjunct Lorn arrived from the capital and took charge. She guessed that the massacre had been a: a diversion. We began upon a trail. It was not a clear one, not at first. Sorceress, may I lower my arms?”



“Slowly. On the chair arms, Captain.”



He sighed gratefully and set down his trembling forearms as she'd instructed. “Anyway, the Adjunct determined that a girl had been taken, possessed by a god.”



“Which god?”



Paran made a face. “Come, now, if you know of the massacre, is it hard to guess? That company was killed by Shadow Hounds. Which god? Well, Shadowthrone comes to mind,” he said sarcastically. “The Adjunct believes Shadowthrone was involved, but the god that possessed the girl was the Rope-I know of no other name for him-the Patron of Assassins, Shadowthrone's companion.”



Tattersail dropped her arm. She'd closed her Warren a minute earlier, since it had begun to push hard and she had feared she didn't have the strength to resist it much longer. “You've found the girl,” she stated dully.



Vacant a %at forward. “Yes!”



"Att names Sorry.”



“You're aware of this,” Paran said, sinking back into the chair. “Which means that Whiskeyjack is also aware, since who else could have told you?” He looked up into her eyes with a clouded expression. “I'm now very confused.”



“You're not alone,” Tattersail said. “So all this-your arrival, the Adjunct's-it was all a hunt for the girl?” She shook her head. “That's not enough, it can't be enough, Captain.”



“It's all that I'm aware of, Tattersail.”



She studied him for a moment. “I believe you. Tell me, what are the details of the Adjunct's mission?”



“I don't know,” Paran said, tossing up his hands. “Somehow, I was the one she'd be able to find, so my being with the squad would bring her to the girl.”



“The Adjunct's talents are many,” Tattersail mused. “Through the antithesis of sorcery, she might well possess the ability to have linked with you, especially if you've been in her company for the past two years.”