The Blinding Knife
Page 59
“Do you want to be a Prism, Kip?”
It was like she had a trick of asking questions that he didn’t want to ask himself. “Everyone probably thinks about that,” Kip said.
“You don’t know if you want it or not. Part of you does, but you don’t think you could ever be the man your father is.”
“That’s crazy talk,” Kip said. He swallowed.
“No, it’s not. I know crazy talk. I know it well. I am a Maker. We are not mere artists; we are the caretakers of history. The cards are history. Each one tells a truth, a story. The Black Cards tell history that has been suppressed, because it threatens…” She looked up at the ceiling, thinking, looking for the right word. She gave up. “Well, it threatens. Take that as you will.”
She smoked, thinking.
“What I’m about to tell you is heresy. Don’t repeat it, if you value your life. Heresy, but true. Take these words, and bury them, treasure them. There are seven Great Gifts, Kip. Some are common. Others are given only to one person a generation, or one person a century. Light is truth, and all the gifts are connected to this foundation. To light, to truth, to reality. Being a drafter—one who works with light—is a great gift, but a relatively common one. Being a Prism is another. Being a Seer, who sees the essence of things, that is much rarer. My gift is rare as well: I am a Mirror. My gift is that I can’t paint a lie. And my gift tells me that your father has two secrets. You, Kip, are not one of them.”
Chapter 45
“So what’s your real name?” Gavin asked the Third Eye, coming to stand beside her on the beach. She had kept her vigil on the southernmost point of Seers Island, and the descending sun bathed the woman in gold. “Or what was it, before? Who are your people?”
The Third Eye was dressed in a yellow cotton dress that made her look merely mortal, though she was still a striking, radiant figure. She hadn’t sent for Gavin until late afternoon. Her associate, or servant, or friend, Caelia, told Gavin that seeing the future took time.
“Oh no you don’t,” the Third Eye said. “You’re probably one of those men who accuses women of being capricious, too.”
“Huh?”
“You ask me last night not to tempt you, to be more formal, and today the first thing you do is ask for greater familiarity. Uh-uh, Lord Prism. In your vanity you can take pleasure in breaking other hearts. Not mine.”
Vanity? That was a little offensive, a little blunt, a little… accurate. He made to speak, then found he had nothing to say.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “The aftermath of Seeing is… I forget myself. It’s hard not to be honest. My apologies.” She snapped open a handfan and fanned herself. “I’m afraid I’ve overheated, too. My skin doesn’t well tolerate so much sun.”
She did indeed look like she’d have a good burn.
“Seeing requires light, you said?” Gavin asked.
She nodded but didn’t seem interested in explaining her gift any more than that.
“Did you find it?” Gavin asked finally.
“Many times, and down many paths. It’s in the sea.”
“Pardon?”
“The bane is floating, somewhere in the Cerulean Sea.”
“That is…” Useless? Unhelpful? “… a large area,” Gavin said. She’d said three hours east and two and a half hours north—which would be in the sea from here, but somehow he was sure this wouldn’t be that easy.
“I’m aware of this. It is also fairly hard to find landmarks or time markers to tell you where to find it in the sea. It’s moving through the water.”
Gavin threw his hands up. “Where’s it going? Where’s it coming from?”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I think I can tell you it’s heading toward center. A center? The center… I’m not sure.” She looked apologetic.
“The center of the sea? Like White Mist Reef? Or the center like sinking?”
“Bane float, most of the times.”
Times, plural. “That doesn’t give me anything.”
“It gives you enough.” If the bane was floating toward White Mist Reef, then taking the calculations backward, it would be somewhere south of the Ilytian city of Smussato, perhaps floating in a line from the border between Paria and Tyrea. If he knew where it was going, and he could guess that it would go straight, and he knew where it was going to be at any one time, that should give him a line on which it must be.
“You mean I’m going to find it?” Sudden hope.
“Yes.”
He couldn’t believe it. There had to be a catch. This was going to take some figuring with a map and an abacus, but it seemed too easy. “How long is it going to take me?”
“If I tell you that, you’ll stop looking until the day I said you were going to find it.”
“No I wouldn’t—Yes, yes, of course I would.”
She sighed.
“Am I going to find it in time?” he asked.
“Even I don’t know what you’re asking by that.”
“You can’t do this to me,” Gavin said.
“Please don’t blame me for things I have nothing to do with.”
Gavin licked his lips. She was right. Of course she was right: she could see everything. Unnerving still. “What can you tell me?” he asked.
“That you’ll be here for a while, and that the Color Prince is looking for it, too, and that you better not let his plan come to fruition. It’s growing, Lord Prism, and the more it grows, the more blues will be drawn to it. Blue wights most of all.”
“Why, what happens? All I know is that the bane were tied in with the old gods’ temples.”
“You’ll see. There’s something else I should tell you.”
“There’s a thousand other things you should tell me!”
“If you take Karris when you go fight it, you’re much more likely to succeed.”
“I could have guessed that myself. She’s a useful woman.”
“And if she goes with you, she’ll almost certainly die.”
“Had to be a catch, didn’t there?” Gavin said.
“I’m not trying to give you a catch; I’m trying to give you a chance.”
He shrugged that off. “ ‘Almost certainly’ as in ninety-nine times out of a hundred, or as in two times out of three?”
“When I see her go with you, I watch her die in dozens of different ways. It’s not pleasant for me. Especially since I know that if she lives, we’re probably going to be friends someday. Assuming you don’t bed certain… you know what? I’ve already said too much.”
“You called Karris The Wife,” Gavin said. “But then you said it was wrong. What did you mean?”
“Knowing that if you know, it will change things… do you really want to know?”
Gavin scowled. “Well, yes.”
“Tough. I’m not telling you.”
“Some soothsayer you are,” Gavin complained.
“I’m not a soothsayer. I’m a seer. I see; sometimes I say what I see. I’m not interested in soothing your feelings.”
It was like she had a trick of asking questions that he didn’t want to ask himself. “Everyone probably thinks about that,” Kip said.
“You don’t know if you want it or not. Part of you does, but you don’t think you could ever be the man your father is.”
“That’s crazy talk,” Kip said. He swallowed.
“No, it’s not. I know crazy talk. I know it well. I am a Maker. We are not mere artists; we are the caretakers of history. The cards are history. Each one tells a truth, a story. The Black Cards tell history that has been suppressed, because it threatens…” She looked up at the ceiling, thinking, looking for the right word. She gave up. “Well, it threatens. Take that as you will.”
She smoked, thinking.
“What I’m about to tell you is heresy. Don’t repeat it, if you value your life. Heresy, but true. Take these words, and bury them, treasure them. There are seven Great Gifts, Kip. Some are common. Others are given only to one person a generation, or one person a century. Light is truth, and all the gifts are connected to this foundation. To light, to truth, to reality. Being a drafter—one who works with light—is a great gift, but a relatively common one. Being a Prism is another. Being a Seer, who sees the essence of things, that is much rarer. My gift is rare as well: I am a Mirror. My gift is that I can’t paint a lie. And my gift tells me that your father has two secrets. You, Kip, are not one of them.”
Chapter 45
“So what’s your real name?” Gavin asked the Third Eye, coming to stand beside her on the beach. She had kept her vigil on the southernmost point of Seers Island, and the descending sun bathed the woman in gold. “Or what was it, before? Who are your people?”
The Third Eye was dressed in a yellow cotton dress that made her look merely mortal, though she was still a striking, radiant figure. She hadn’t sent for Gavin until late afternoon. Her associate, or servant, or friend, Caelia, told Gavin that seeing the future took time.
“Oh no you don’t,” the Third Eye said. “You’re probably one of those men who accuses women of being capricious, too.”
“Huh?”
“You ask me last night not to tempt you, to be more formal, and today the first thing you do is ask for greater familiarity. Uh-uh, Lord Prism. In your vanity you can take pleasure in breaking other hearts. Not mine.”
Vanity? That was a little offensive, a little blunt, a little… accurate. He made to speak, then found he had nothing to say.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “The aftermath of Seeing is… I forget myself. It’s hard not to be honest. My apologies.” She snapped open a handfan and fanned herself. “I’m afraid I’ve overheated, too. My skin doesn’t well tolerate so much sun.”
She did indeed look like she’d have a good burn.
“Seeing requires light, you said?” Gavin asked.
She nodded but didn’t seem interested in explaining her gift any more than that.
“Did you find it?” Gavin asked finally.
“Many times, and down many paths. It’s in the sea.”
“Pardon?”
“The bane is floating, somewhere in the Cerulean Sea.”
“That is…” Useless? Unhelpful? “… a large area,” Gavin said. She’d said three hours east and two and a half hours north—which would be in the sea from here, but somehow he was sure this wouldn’t be that easy.
“I’m aware of this. It is also fairly hard to find landmarks or time markers to tell you where to find it in the sea. It’s moving through the water.”
Gavin threw his hands up. “Where’s it going? Where’s it coming from?”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I think I can tell you it’s heading toward center. A center? The center… I’m not sure.” She looked apologetic.
“The center of the sea? Like White Mist Reef? Or the center like sinking?”
“Bane float, most of the times.”
Times, plural. “That doesn’t give me anything.”
“It gives you enough.” If the bane was floating toward White Mist Reef, then taking the calculations backward, it would be somewhere south of the Ilytian city of Smussato, perhaps floating in a line from the border between Paria and Tyrea. If he knew where it was going, and he could guess that it would go straight, and he knew where it was going to be at any one time, that should give him a line on which it must be.
“You mean I’m going to find it?” Sudden hope.
“Yes.”
He couldn’t believe it. There had to be a catch. This was going to take some figuring with a map and an abacus, but it seemed too easy. “How long is it going to take me?”
“If I tell you that, you’ll stop looking until the day I said you were going to find it.”
“No I wouldn’t—Yes, yes, of course I would.”
She sighed.
“Am I going to find it in time?” he asked.
“Even I don’t know what you’re asking by that.”
“You can’t do this to me,” Gavin said.
“Please don’t blame me for things I have nothing to do with.”
Gavin licked his lips. She was right. Of course she was right: she could see everything. Unnerving still. “What can you tell me?” he asked.
“That you’ll be here for a while, and that the Color Prince is looking for it, too, and that you better not let his plan come to fruition. It’s growing, Lord Prism, and the more it grows, the more blues will be drawn to it. Blue wights most of all.”
“Why, what happens? All I know is that the bane were tied in with the old gods’ temples.”
“You’ll see. There’s something else I should tell you.”
“There’s a thousand other things you should tell me!”
“If you take Karris when you go fight it, you’re much more likely to succeed.”
“I could have guessed that myself. She’s a useful woman.”
“And if she goes with you, she’ll almost certainly die.”
“Had to be a catch, didn’t there?” Gavin said.
“I’m not trying to give you a catch; I’m trying to give you a chance.”
He shrugged that off. “ ‘Almost certainly’ as in ninety-nine times out of a hundred, or as in two times out of three?”
“When I see her go with you, I watch her die in dozens of different ways. It’s not pleasant for me. Especially since I know that if she lives, we’re probably going to be friends someday. Assuming you don’t bed certain… you know what? I’ve already said too much.”
“You called Karris The Wife,” Gavin said. “But then you said it was wrong. What did you mean?”
“Knowing that if you know, it will change things… do you really want to know?”
Gavin scowled. “Well, yes.”
“Tough. I’m not telling you.”
“Some soothsayer you are,” Gavin complained.
“I’m not a soothsayer. I’m a seer. I see; sometimes I say what I see. I’m not interested in soothing your feelings.”
