Ithanalin's Restoration

Nuvielle glanced at the others, then said, "Of course. I will be accompanied only by Kilisha, and the others will wait here."

The soldier bowed again, then turned, and he and his partner swung open the doors. Nuvielle strode in, Kilisha following with a gait far more timid; the two guards stepped in behind them, then closed the door, leaving Kilisha's three friends, Nuvielle's two guards, and the overlord's other two guards in the antechamber.

The two women found themselves in a large and elegant room; Kilisha could not tell whether the walls or floor here were stone, as they were all covered with draperies and carpets, but the high ceiling was painted wood, depicting clouds and birds and butterflies against a blue background. A few sculptures, mostly statues of young women, stood about; a gilded shrine gleamed in one corner. Assorted couches, tables, and chairs were arranged in three neat groupings. Kilisha took all this in quickly, but then her attention focused on one specific couch in the nearest group.

There it was, at last-the crimson velvet couch that had stood so long in Ithanalin's parlor. It blended surprisingly well with its surroundings.

And a handsome young man who she realized must be the overlord was sprawled on it, looking at her.

Chapter Twenty-eight

Kilisha managed to not burst out, "You're on my couch!" Instead she caught herself, remembered her ma

Beside her, Nuvielle said, "Hello, Wulran."

"Aunt Nuvielle," Wulran said, folding his hands on his chest. "What brings you here, and who is this young lady?"

Kilisha hastily curtsied again and said, "I am Kilisha the Wizard's Apprentice, my lord." She thought that sounded more suitable for the situation than "of Eastgate." When her head came back up from the ceremonial bob she took a good look at the overlord.

He was a tall, thin man, dark-haired and dark-eyed, his complexion rather pale; his face was narrow and his jaw pointed, the sharp angle exaggerated by a neatly trimmed triangular beard. He wore a loose beige tunic embroidered in three shades of brown, black suede breeches, and very practical-looking brown boots, one of which was hooked under an arm of the couch, as the seat was really rather short for a man of his height to lie on.

Under other circumstances she wouldn't have minded meeting such a man at all, but this man was the city's overlord. His clothes might not be especially fancy, and he wore no crown or medallion or other token of office, but still, he had the power of life and death over tens of thousands of people.

"A pleasure to meet you," he said, nodding politely. "I hope you'll forgive me for not rising, but my bowels are in knots and my head is throbbing. My advisers have been shouting at me all morning about this blasted usurper in the Sands, and I haven't been eating well for the past few days, and I'm afraid it's all catching up to me."

"Have you been sleeping well?" Nuvielle asked.

"No, I haven't been sleeping well," he snapped. "Aunt Kin-thera and Uncle Ederd and Ederd's father arc out at sea somewhere with this madwoman threatening to kill them all, and there's talk that I may be next after them, and dozens of people are already dead and Ederd's palace is full of thieves and beggars sleeping wrapped in the tapestries-how am I supposed to sleep?"

"I hadn't realized how much it troubled you, my lord," Nuvielle said. "When we spoke yesterday you seemed quite calm."

Wulran flung one arm over the back of the couch and pulled himself up partway to shout, "I'm supposed to seem calm! It's part of the job." Then he sank back down, letting his arm fall across his eyes, and said, "What did you want, my lady? Is there some new complication? Has Tabaea turned all our gold to seawater?"

"No, my lord, nothing like that. Nothing to do with Tabaea at all. I'm here because this wizard's couch has run away."

For a moment Wulran did not move, or respond in any way, and Kilisha wondered whether he had heard; then he said slowly, without moving, "Her couch has run away?"

Kilisha decided that the time had come to speak for herself, even to the overlord. "My master's couch, actually, my lord," she said. "The one you're lying on." She managed to keep her voice steady.

He lifted the arm from his face and turned his head to look at her. "This couch?" he said, tapping the velvet-upholstered back with one finger.

"Yes, my lord."

"It ran away?"

"And came to the Fortress to hide, my lord, yes." Each sentence came more easily than the one before; the overlord was too human, too ordinary, to stay frightening.

"It came here under its own power, then? It was alive?"

"Well, animated, anyway. I'm not sure alive is quite the right word."

"That's how it got in here? The servants didn't bring it?"

"It ran away, my lord, and seems to have come here by its own choice."

"And it just walked in here? How did it get past my guards?"

"I don't know, my lord. I've wondered that myself. It's apparently quite clever."

"I see." He let his raised arm drape over the back again. "And you've come here because you want it back?"

"Yes, my lord. Without it, I can't undo a spell that has transformed my master."

"Interesting." He stroked the velvet upholstery. "You say it was animated-it doesn't appear to be animated now, I've never seen it move."

That had puzzled and troubled Kilisha. "I can't explain that, my lord-it should still be animated."

"Well, perhaps it's been getting the sleep I haven't. If you can prove it's yours, then I'll be happy to return it-though it's been quite comfortable having it here."

"I saw it in the wizard's parlor," Lady Nuvielle offered, before Kilisha could reply.

"And I have neighbors who will attest to it, as well, my lord," Kilisha said. "One is in the antechamber right now."

"She brought some friends to help carry it," Nuvielle explained.

The overlord sighed. "Then I suppose I had better get off it and let you take it," he said. He started to lower his arm, to push himself into a sitting position-and the couch bolted.

It dashed wildly across the room, narrowly dodging a table; its stubby curved legs were moving so fast Kilisha could sec only a blur. The overlord was still half-lying, half-sitting on it, one foot hooked under an arm and his eyes wide with astonishment as it bounded in a zigzag across the carpet.

The couch's arm was not its original gracefully curved shape, Kilisha saw; it had closed down on Wulran's ankle, trapping him.

"Guards!" Nuvielle called, far louder than Kilisha would have thought possible for a woman her size.

The two guards in the room were already moving, arms spread and knees bent, spears held horizontally, trying to corner the couch and force it back against one wall, away from any doors. At Nu-vielle's shout, however, the door burst open and the other four guardsmen-no, five, Kilisha saw, as Kelder was with them-came rushing in.

The couch was rocking madly back and forth, bouncing first one end off the floor, then the other; the overlord was clinging to the velvet with both hands. He looked terrified.

The couch knocked over a pedestal, sending a large vase crashing to the floor; flowers, peacock plumes, shards of porcelain, and dirty water sprayed across the carpets as the vase shattered spectacularly. One of the first two guards shied away, raising his spear for a moment, and the couch dashed forward, ducking underneath. The overlord did not duck quite as quickly, and the shaft of the spear caught Wulran on the top of the head with a horrifying crack.

Then the couch was past that pair, and the other five had not yet had time to take in the situation; the maddened sofa charged through them, knocking one man to the floor, and leapt through the door to the antechamber.