She was deliberately taunting him, something she had made a habit of doing over the years, but which today, for reasons he couldn’t explain, set his teeth on edge. The way she said it told him that things had changed between them in a way that couldn’t be set right. It wasn’t so much what she said as the tone she used, as if daring him to do something about it. She had never come at him like this before. No one challenged him—no one in his right mind.
She smiled at him as she might have a child. “Stop worrying, Old Man.
You’ll have what you want soon enough. You’ll have your precious Knight of the Word to play games with.”
He was still thinking about the way she had spoken to him a moment earlier, but he nodded agreeably. “Will I? I don’t know. Perhaps she is too much for you. Perhaps I should send one of the others this time. The Klee, for instance?”
He did not miss the flush that blossomed like blood between the patches of scale. “The Klee is an animal. It doesn’t think. It won’t know what to do with her.”
He looked at her questioningly, showing nothing of malice or disgust or the half a dozen other things he was feeling. His seamed, weathered face was an unreadable road map. “Perhaps an animal is what’s needed.”
He turned away before she could answer, giving her a moment to think about it. The gates of the compound were beginning to splinter. The once-men were advancing in a steady wave, the living climbing atop the bodies of the dead. A pyramid of corpses was forming at the base of the walls; here and there limbs still twitched. It was what made the once-men so useful: they didn’t think, didn’t feel, and didn’t care about dying.
“The fact remains, she needs to be eliminated,” he continued.
“I told you. I can manage it.”
There was an edge to her words, but he kept his eyes on the battle at the compound gates. “I fear you underestimate her, Delloreen.”
“As you once did Nest Freemark?” she snapped. “Hold the mirror up to your own face before you hold it up to mine, Old Man!”
He knew in that instant that he was going to have to kill her, but he did not change expression or react in any way. He just nodded and kept looking at the fighting in front of him, his mind working it through.
“Well,” he said finally, “I expect you are right. I shouldn’t be judging you. The fact of the matter is I’m doing too much of that lately. It’s because I’m tired of this business. I’ve been at it too long. Someone younger and fresher is needed.” He looked at her and saw the wariness in her lizard eyes.
“Don’t look so surprised. You were right about me. There’s no use pretending otherwise. I’ve been alive a long time, and my enthusiasm for most things has been used up. My only real pleasure now comes from the children and the experiments. If I were to do nothing else, I could be happy.”
He looked away again, letting her chew on that. Then he said, “Are you eager to take my place, Delloreen? I think maybe you are.
I think it’s time you did. But it has to be handled right. My declaration of support will help, yet it isn’t enough by itself. You must provide your followers with reassurance that you are the right choice to lead them. Just a little something to instill fresh confidence.”
She hadn’t said a word, still listening.
“Bring me the head of that girl on a stake, Delloreen,” he said suddenly, almost as if he had just thought of it. “The head of a Knight of the Word—what better proof could anyone offer? When you do that, I’ll step aside.”
He nodded slowly. “Yes, I’ll gladly step aside.”
Even without looking at her, he knew what she was thinking. She was thinking she would like to mount his head on a stake. Fair enough. But she wouldn’t try it now, not while she wasn’t quite sure of herself. She would wait until she was on firmer ground. She would wait for her chance.
“Listen to me, Old Man,” she said suddenly, stepping so close he could feel her breath on his neck. “I don’t want to take your place. I don’t want to lead this rabble.” One clawed hand fastened lightly on his shoulder. “I will bring you the girl’s head because I’m tired of listening to you carp about it.”
The hand tightened. “But that’s the end of it. You keep what you have and I’ll do the same.”
Then she turned and was gone. He did not look after her, but continued to stare at the fighting. He did not mistake about her intentions, whatever she claimed. Nor did he think for one minute that things could remain the way they were. Once the line was crossed, that was the end of it. Or, in this case, the end of her.
He did not know yet how he would make it happen, only that he would. But getting her out of the way long enough to think about it was the first step. She would find herself fully occupied tracking that female Knight of the Word. She might even find herself in over her head. It wasn’t the ideal solution, but it would suffice.
He heard her voice again in his mind, taunting him about Nest Freemark, reminding him of the only mistake he had ever made. It was not a mistake he was likely to repeat. It was a mistake, in fact, that one day he would set right.