Chapter 17 Perl
PERL
Perl stares at the ice cell as the door is drawn closed.
He feels like insects are crawling over his skin. He has made another mistake, another terrible mistake. He brought Kerik here. He let Vane force him into the four tests.
They may have got through the first, but even that, relatively simple one, had only been passed by a little luck and Perl taking Kerik’s skin off with a whip. This test is far worse, far harder.
Endurance is notorious. No mortal has ever passed it.
He cannot bear to sit and watch as Kerik is put through this. Put through it only to fail and be condemned to the pit. And then what? How will he ever rescue him then? How will he ever defeat Ur-Durik?
He cannot seem to stop his thoughts from spiralling. Instead of taking his seat on the dais, he addresses Exeinil. “Your Majesty, I would walk the halls.”
Exeinil looks up at Perl idly, from where she is whispering back and forth with her dark-haired thrall. “Very well,” she says. “Be back here for the torments.”
Perl looks down at the iron cuff on his wrist. “Thank you,” he says, making his voice sound light.
He holds out his right wrist. “May I request my suppressor is removed when I am not in the parlour.” He cannot bear the thought of running into Krem again and being tempted by the idea of kneeling for him while he is so helpless.
Vane leans forward, a hand on the top of Seridil’s head. “I hardly think that’s acceptable. It would be a simple matter to send a little heat into that ice.”
“Without melting it?” Perl says back, matching Vane’s cool tones.
“Why do you need your suppressor removed?” Exeinil says. There is a note of suspicion in her voice, perhaps she agrees with Vane that Perl is trying to help Kerik somehow. Although Perl knows this test is extremely difficult to interfere with without leaving evidence.
Perl looks around the parlour. Two of the fae courtiers are leaving, through the wide doorway into the corridor beyond.
One of them wears her wings, They are blue and green, shimmering like the ocean.
She must have a little Merek-Dur blood. The wings move elegantly as she passes through the door.
And Perl knows exactly what Exeinil would like to think he is doing.
He kneels before Exeinil and says, “I have not flown since I returned to Vylenor. It has been so long. While my thrall suffers I would take the air.”
He sees the delight break over Exeinil’s face.
She reaches out and touches Perl’s cheek with a pale hand.
“My sweet Perlash. I knew that once you had returned to us you would uncover your true nature once more.” She waves a hand in the air and the suppressor cuff melts away like mist. “But please, Perlash, only within the walls of Vylenor, we are still troubled by raiders from Oria outside the wards and I'm sure I do not need to remind you how great a prize you would be for the timeless court.”
Perl allows himself a small glance of triumph in Vane’s direction, before he stands and bows. “Of course not, Your Majesty,” he says, before he spins on his boot heel, and leaves the hall.
He makes his way to his own chambers, strengthens the wards and sets up the silvered glass and candles. He’s already feeling terrible enough. He may as well update Doroth Zain in his latest litany of failure.
For the first time, Doroth Zain does not ask Perl if he has Iceheart. Instead he says, “At last. I hope you are not getting beguiled by that place and losing sight of our mission.”
Perl wonders what that could mean. He has told Doroth Zain much of his history with Vylenor and the fae. “Of course not. I will be delighted to leave.” He watches Doroth Zain nod as if this assertion has satisfied him. “How long has it been since last we spoke?”
“It is almost Surrus moon.”
Surrus moon. This does not shock Perl like Doroth Zain’s previous statement that it was Gi moon.
If it was Gi moon last time, then the fact it is now getting close to Surrus in the mortal realm is no surprise.
He has been trying to count the days, but they shimmer and fade into each other.
It had never bothered him when he lived here.
But since living so long in the mortal realm with passing time marked by sunrise and sunset, the waxing and waning of the moon, the turning seasons of the year, Vylenor’s eerie timelessness makes him feel strangely unmoored and helpless.
But it is clear that time is still passing faster than he would like in Mortal.
He is moving through treacle here in Vylenor.
So much must have happened and it is strange not knowing every detail of what the princes he has watched all of their lives are doing. “And what news?” he says.
“The Shard tells us Tobi is still in the forest as expected.”
Perl nods. The Fool is on his path. “And the demon? Has Tobi Darekul encountered Ur-Durik?”
“We know little more. We have no information from the forest. It is too remote and mysterious.”
“Surely the Thousand Eyes has a spy in Urynwud?” As far as Perl can tell there is nothing in the mortal realm that Vindar does not know about. Tracking Vindar’s spy routes has always been one of the best ways to find information.
“He does, and we have managed to intercept some of those updates. But his spy has other concerns. Most of the information he has been sending to Vindar means nothing to our cause. Vindar is considering invading the forest, he is mostly gathering information about the rebels who fight against Urynwud. The only matter of interest to us is that Vindar has instructed his spy to ensure Tobi never leaves the Ambolk Fortress.”
Perl waves a hand dismissively. “So Vindar still plays his games. I have oft wondered if his actions are somehow being influenced by the demon.”
“He is influenced by nothing but his own lusts to put his son on the Azurian Imperial Throne.” Doroth Zain, always dismisses his brothers scheming as about nothing more than his own desires for power. Perhaps he is right. He knows Vindar like no one else.
“And Karo, she is still determined to carry out her ritual?”
“She is. She claims she has had her own visions. She wants to do it soon. Rafus is in Ceruleum. She plans to bring him here to the Bride House for it.”
Perl shudders. Karo has always said they would need to kill the Origin before Ur-Durik rose.
Perl has never seen that written anywhere.
Although it is true that Lurella died after she had birthed the original five fae princes, Perl has seen nothing suggesting that gave the princes the power they needed to defeat Ur-Durik.
Perhaps it is written in the Books of Alios, but isn’t that just the problem.
All the writings left by his father for him to follow assume he will be able to consult the Books of Alios.
So who is he to tell Karo she is wrong to insist they need to kill Rafus?
But when he agreed to this, long ago, he never expected this day to come. Or, it would come, but when it did, he would be closer to his goals. But now he has reached that point. The princes are scattered, he does not have Iceheart, he is trapped in Vylenor and Kerik is imprisoned in ice.
“Things in Vylenor are more difficult than expected,” Perl says. “I am concerned for the Magician facing the tests of devotion and—”
“I thought it was a grave mistake to take him there,” Doroth Zain snaps back, cutting Perl off.
Perl is older than Doroth Zain by more than a century.
This is his mission. He was the one who brought Doroth Zain to the cause, and yet Doroth Zain speaks to him as if he is one of his grovelling acolytes.
“I did not expect…” Perl stops. “You are right. This was a mistake.”
Doroth Zain’s dark eyes narrow. “No. It was not. I was wrong to doubt you.”
“It was not?” Perl is quite surprised. For a moment he thinks he must have misunderstood what Doroth Zain is saying.
“Because of my concerns about your actions, I have been speaking to the Shard on your behalf,” Doroth Zain says tightly, as if he is passing on a message he does not like.
Perl braces himself, “She has told me you are on the right path in Vylenor and that you were correct to take the Magician there. You were led there by The Aeons.” Doroth Zain moves his mouth as if the words he is saying taste foul.
Nevertheless he continues. “Vylenor will forge the Magician. And you.”
Perl can only stare at Doroth Zain in shock. This is the last thing he expected to hear.
Perl walks back through Vylenor feeling a little uplifted.
He cannot remember ever getting such an endorsement from the Shard before.
But knowing he is on the right path is some comfort, although he still fears for Kerik.
He cannot see how Kerik can possibly pass this test. Just because this path is correct does not mean it will be easy.
He reaches one of the wide entrances to the Ice Hall. The hall is empty, still and cold. Its white walls glisten in the ice light. Standing in the doorway, Perl looks up at the cage, dangling at the high ceiling’s apex.
He remembers the last time he saw his father, in this hall. Kneeling before Exeinil. Bloody from her magic after he’d enraged her with his proclamations. Still proud, even when she sentenced him to the endless death. He’d known what was coming.
He’d been found in Perl’s chambers. The magic he’d used to breach Vylenor’s wards a second time — the blood door — too strong to hide from the fae of Vylenor.
Perl remembers waking to a strange mortal at his bedside, and that mortal introducing himself as Perl’s mysterious father. And Perl had been horrified. He had not known, until that moment, that the rumours were true. His father truly was a mortal. Perl was the aberration the Timeless Court claimed.