Crown of Shadows by C.S. Friedman

Author:C.S. Friedman [Friedman, C.S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fantasy
ISBN: 0756403189
Publisher: DAW Trade
Published: 2009-03-25T04:00:00+00:00

It was nearly dawn. Domina’s light shone down through the window of the rented room, illuminating well-worn pages. There was weariness in Damien’s body, and in his soul.

Then the Hunter closed the book and said, “It’s here.”

Sleep, which had been closing in about Damien, was banished in an instant. He sat up in the chair and demanded, “What is?”

“The data I was looking for. He found it.” He put his hand on the leather cover and shut his eyes; Damien thought he saw him tremble slightly. “All through human history men have tried to harness the fae-surge that precedes earthquakes. It’s common knowledge that it can’t be done, yet they keep trying. The thought of that much power outweighs all natural caution, it seems, and not until the fae fries their brains to ash does it become clear that there are some things men were never meant to do.” His hand spread out across the mottled leather of the scrapbook, as if drinking in its contents through that contact. “Likewise there are those who try to Work at the site of an active volcano, for the same reason. The results there are identical. Man can’t channel that kind of power and live to talk about it.”

“You needed Zen’s notes to tell you that? Hell, I could have saved you the trouble.”

Instead of being irritated, the Hunter smiled faintly. “But you see, there were other questions left to be asked. Questions no one thought of, except our obsessed friend Mer Reese.”

“Such as?”

He indicated the volume before him. “These men and women all died Working. What happened to their Workings when they perished? Were they obliterated alongside their makers, dispersed in that one fatal instant? Or did they take hold of the wild current, impressing the fae with their purpose even as their owners burned?”

“Does it matter?”

“It might.” Though his voice was calm, his posture was rigid, as if all his tension had been channeled into that one outlet. “It might matter very much.”

“Why?”

In answer the Hunter pushed the heavy book away from him, and forced himself to lean back in his chair. For a moment he was still, his eyes fixed on a distant, imaginary horizon. At last, in a tense voice, he said, “The negative of sadism is altruism.”

Damien inhaled sharply. “Are you sure about that?”

“Is it possible to be sure? I think it likely.”

Altruism. Unselfish concern for the welfare of others. Damien tried to fit it into the Iezu pattern, to see if it would work. Could one want to spare others from pain, and at the same time take delight in hurting them? “It feels right,” he said at last. “Better than anything else we’ve come up with, that’s for sure.”

The Hunter nodded.

“But how does that help us? I mean, we can hardly force Calesta to do charity work.”

“With enough power,” the Hunter said evenly, “we can force him to do anything.”

It took a second for Tarrant’s meaning to sink in; when it did so, he felt his gut tighten in dread.

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