He wouldn't dream of lying at this point. Seeing no reason not to do so, he told the shades about Grianne and their history. He did not dissemble or try to hide anything. It might have been that he thought it pointless or perhaps was too weary to pick and choose between what to tell and what to keep secret. There were no interruptions as he spoke. The heads of the dead hung suspended before him, and the night about was empty and still.
When he was finished, there was no immediate response. He thought that perhaps they had decided he was lying after all or trying to trick them in some way. But he had no way of knowing what else he could do or say to convince them. He had used up all his words.
Will you use your magic against your sister when she finds you?
The question was unexpected, and he hesitated. "I don't know," he said finally.
Will she use hers against you?
"I don't know that either. I don't know what will happen when we meet again."
Do you wish her harm?
For a moment, Bek was left speechless. "No!" he blurted out. "I just want to make her understand."
There was a stirring in the air, a sort of rustling sound, like the wind passing through trees or tall grasses. Buried in its sound were words and phrases, as if the dead were communicating with each other in their own language. Bek heard it at the edges of his mind, barely audible, faintly recognizable for what it was. It came and went quickly, and the silence returned.
Tell us of your companion. Do not lie to us.
Again, Bek did as he was ordered, certain now that lying was a mistake he should not make. His fear had lessened, and he was speaking with more confidence, almost as if the shades were companions about a fire and he a storyteller. He did not think they meant him harm. He thought that he must have trespassed somehow, and they had come to determine his reasons. If he just explained, he would be all right.
So he related what he knew of Truls Rohk and the events that had brought them to Castledown. It took him a while to tell everything, but he felt it was important to do so. He said that the shape-shifter had watched over him on his journey and twice saved his life. He wasn't sure why he made a point of this. Perhaps it was because he thought the shades should know Truls was a friend. Perhaps he thought that knowing this would help keep them both from harm.
When he had finished, the heads shifted and settled anew.
Breeding between shape-shifters and humans is forbidden.
It was said without rancor or condemnation. Nevertheless, it was a strong comment for them to make. And an odd one. What did it matter to the dead what the living did?
He shook his head. "It's not his fault; his parents made that choice."
Halflings have no place in the world.
"Not if we don't make one for them."
Would you make a place for him?
"Yes, if he needed one."
Would you give up your own place in the world so that he might have his?
The conversation was getting oddly metaphysical, and Bek had no idea where it was going, but he stayed with it. "Yes."
Would you give up your life for him?
Bek paused. What was he supposed to say to that? Would he give up his life for Truls Rohk? "Yes," he said finally. "Because I think he would do the same for me."
This time the pause was much longer. Again, the heads rotated and the rustling sounds returned, rife with words and phrases, with conversations the boy could not understand. He listened carefully, but while bits and pieces were audible, he could comprehend none of it. He wondered suddenly if he had misjudged things, if the shades meant him harm after all.
Then the voice spoke again.
Look at us.
He did so. A sudden chill in the air made him shiver, as if a cold wind had found its way down off the mountains, a wind with the brittle snap of deep winter. He shrank from it-and from the abrupt flurry of movement about him. The faces had begun to change. Gone were the empty, expressionless features. Gone were the disembodied heads. Huge, dark forms appeared in their place, bristling with tufts of grizzled hair. Massive bodies rose out of the shadows. Like beasts that walked upright, these new creatures closed about, gimlet eyes fixing on him. Bek felt his heart stop and his blood turn to ice. The fear he had dispelled earlier returned in a rush, become outright terror. There was nothing he could do to save himself. There was nowhere to run and no chance to do so. He was trapped.
Do you know what we are?
He couldn't speak. He could barely move. He shook his head slowly, the best he could manage.
We are whatever we wish to be. We are the living and the dead. We are flesh and blood and wind and water. We are shape-shifters. This is our land, and humans do not belong here. You trespass and must leave. Go back down off the mountain and do not return.
Bek nodded quickly in agreement. He would take any chance they offered to get away. He could hear their heavy, raw breathing and smell their animal bodies. He could feel the weight of their shadows falling over him, layer upon layer. He understood in that instant what it felt like to be hunted and cornered. He understood what it felt like to be prey.
The voice whispered to him in a low, threatening hiss, and he was aware of a change in tone.