CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE.

ELDYN GRASPED THE hands to either side of him as he and the other illusionists on the stage took another bow. The audience continued to thunder its approval, letting out sharp whistles and stamping boots against the floor until the entire theater trembled. Another bow was demanded. The players complied again, and again.

At last the crimson curtain sped shut over the proscenium. However, even as the roar of applause dwindled, the excited talk of the illusionists welled up in its place.

"Did you hear them out there?" Dercy said, wearing a grin upon his silver face as he gripped Eldyn's arm. "By G.o.d, I half feared they were going to bring the house down over our heads. Only it was worth it to hear such applause. And it was yours, you know."

Eldyn could only laugh. "Mine? I hardly think that's the case! I'm very sure it was you you they were applauding for. The Moon is the hero of the show, and I don't think you've ever shone brighter than you did tonight. You were a marvel." they were applauding for. The Moon is the hero of the show, and I don't think you've ever shone brighter than you did tonight. You were a marvel."

Dercy made a florid bow. "You will get no argument from me on that point. I was better than I've ever been tonight. However, it was only because you you made me so." made me so."

These words astonished Eldyn. He did not know what to say. His roles had been important, yes, but all secondary-conjuring comets during the action in the firmament or glittering schools of fish in the scenes in the sea.

"I'm sure people hardly even noticed anything I conjured tonight."

"That's exactly my point."

Now Eldyn was puzzled as well as surprised. "Did all the accolades turn your head? You're making no sense at all."

"On the contrary, for once Dercy is making perfect sense," Hugoth said, taking off his spiky gold crown and scratching his crimson beard. He was one of the oldest illusionists in the troupe, being near to forty, and always brought a weight of maturity to his performance as the jealous Sun King.

"The best performer does not claim the center of the stage for himself," Hugoth went on. "Rather, he makes everyone around him shine the brighter. The reason the audience could fix all of their attention upon Dercy and me was because everything else in the scene was so perfectly wrought. They had no need to concentrate upon it and wonder what this thing or that was supposed to be. Dercy's right-we all earned a portion of the applause, but tonight it belonged especially to you, Eldyn."

The other players around called out their agreements, and Eldyn was beyond words as a warmth enclosed him. Merrick, who seldom seemed to smile these days, did so now and gave him a deep bow, while Riethe clapped Eldyn on the back-with his left hand, for the right was still swathed in bandages.

"That was fine work you did out there," Riethe said. "I don't mind saying it, though it means I might not be getting my roles back even if my hand does heal up all right."

"Don't worry, Riethe," said a small, slightly built illusionist with brown hair. His name was Mauress, but everyone just called him Mouse, given his size and the propensity for his nose to wrinkle up when he was nervous. "You'll always have a place here at the Theater of the Moon. There's always a need for a big dunderhead to hoist the sandbags to the rafters."

"It's you who'll be hoisted to the rafters if you keep talking like that, Mouse," Riethe called back cheerfully.

"I'm sure the roles will be waiting for you as soon as your hand is better," Eldyn said to Riethe.

The other illusionist shrugged broad shoulders. "If so, it's because by then you'll be on to bigger things."

The illusionists continued to talk excitedly of the performance. A bottle was pa.s.sed around, and Eldyn took a fiery draught, though whiskey could hardly have made him more intoxicated. Then whoops and whistles rang out as Master Tallyroth, clad in his customary black, stepped from the wings. A bottle was pa.s.sed around, and Eldyn took a fiery draught, though whiskey could hardly have made him more intoxicated. Then whoops and whistles rang out as Master Tallyroth, clad in his customary black, stepped from the wings.

"Did you see us, Master Tallyroth?" Dercy said gleefully.

"It is my legs that give me a bit of trouble these days, Dercy," the elder illusionist said. "My eyes function quite well. But to answer your question-yes, you were all quite splendid tonight."

Leaning upon his cane, Master Tallyroth approached Eldyn. "I heard the others congratulating you, Mr. Garritt. As they should. Yours was an excellent performance."

"Thank you," Eldyn managed to say. As always, a few words from the master illusionist meant more than any amount of applause.

"Though I did notice you deviated from the stage directions in the scene atop the mountain. The direction called for falcons, yet I saw that you conjured doves instead."

Eldyn no longer felt so warm. "I'm sorry, Master Tallyroth. I'm not sure why I did it, exactly. It was only...well, the scene is about how the birds untie the Moon's bonds and help him escape the king's men. Only, falcons are birds of prey, while doves are a symbol of the soul's freedom in..."

He started to say in the Testament in the Testament, but quickly swallowed the words.

"... that is, in many stories they stand for freedom," he finished.

"Well, I thought it was brilliant," Dercy proclaimed. "It was more beautiful. Don't you agree, Master Tallyroth?"

"I do," the master illusionist said. "However, next time, Mr. Garritt, I would ask that you not improvise during a performance. Rather, if you have an idea to improve something, let us rehea.r.s.e it first to make certain it does not alter the intent of the scene."

"Yes, Master Tallyroth," Eldyn said, ducking his head.

What had he been thinking, to make a change to the play like that? Had not Master Tallyroth devised every bit of staging himself? Yet Eldyn had been so caught up in the scene on the mountain, and as he conjured the birds he had thought of a pa.s.sage he had recently read in the Testament, describing how St. Galibran had escaped his own captors when a flock of doves untied the ropes that bound him. and as he conjured the birds he had thought of a pa.s.sage he had recently read in the Testament, describing how St. Galibran had escaped his own captors when a flock of doves untied the ropes that bound him.

"There now, have no fear," Tallyroth said, leaning close and speaking in a voice that only Eldyn could hear. "You did exceedingly well tonight, Mr. Garritt. I am very pleased, as is Madame Richelour."

Even as he spoke this, the madam of the theater arrived onstage, clad in a gown hardly less flamboyant and colorful than any costume worn by the illusionists. She spread kisses around, as well as many silver quarter regals, and told them to go celebrate and make merry-though not too much, or too late. For once word of tonight's performance spread along Durrow Street, they were sure to gain an even larger audience for the next show, and she wanted it to be just as good as this one.

A QUARTER HOUR later, just as at every house on the east end of Durrow Street, illusionists spilled out the back of the Theater of the Moon, having lost their costumes but not their thirst. They proceeded at once to a nearby tavern, parading through the door in a spirited throng. QUARTER HOUR later, just as at every house on the east end of Durrow Street, illusionists spilled out the back of the Theater of the Moon, having lost their costumes but not their thirst. They proceeded at once to a nearby tavern, parading through the door in a spirited throng.

Their kind was not an unusual sight at this particular establishment. While a few scowls greeted them, there were a greater number of cheers, and these were rewarded by bouquets of poppies that suddenly burst up from ale cups or hummingbirds that flew out of unkempt beards-much to the surprise and amus.e.m.e.nt of their respective owners.

The illusionists took over the booths in one corner and called for whiskey and punch. Given the tavern's proximity to Durrow Street, the barkeeps here knew to bite a coin before taking it as payment. Illusion might trick the eye, but not the tooth. Fortunately, Madame Richelour had given them more than enough to fuel their revel, and soon laughter and phantasms welled forth.

The flow of their merriment ebbed only once, when a trio of young men entered the tavern. They wore green velvet coats trimmed with lace, and their faces were powdered as white as their wigs. Several of the players from the Theater of the Moon hailed the newcomers and called out cheerful greetings. The young men waved back, but they did not come over; instead, they sat apart at a table and hunkered over their cups. young men entered the tavern. They wore green velvet coats trimmed with lace, and their faces were powdered as white as their wigs. Several of the players from the Theater of the Moon hailed the newcomers and called out cheerful greetings. The young men waved back, but they did not come over; instead, they sat apart at a table and hunkered over their cups.

"So who are those three over there?" Eldyn asked, gesturing with his own cup.

It was Merrick who answered. "They are players at the Theater of Emeralds."

Now Eldyn understood why the laughter had quieted. All of them had read the story in The Swift Arrow The Swift Arrow last quarter month-how the body of a young man had washed up on the sh.o.r.es of the Anbyrn down in Waterside. The story described how the corpse could not be identified, for it had been decomposed, and its eyes consumed by fish. last quarter month-how the body of a young man had washed up on the sh.o.r.es of the Anbyrn down in Waterside. The story described how the corpse could not be identified, for it had been decomposed, and its eyes consumed by fish.

Except they all knew that wasn't the case-that the young man's eyes had surely been gone before his body was heaved in the river. What's more, The Swift Arrow The Swift Arrow, which always had a penchant for lurid detail, had described how shreds of fine lace and green velvet clung to the corpse.

For all the brightness in Eldyn's own world over these last months, a darkness had continued to stalk around the edges of Durrow Street. In that time, a number of illusionists had gone missing. How many exactly, no one could say. It was not unusual for the young men who worked in the theaters to leave the city without warning-perhaps whisked off by angry fathers who had discovered what mischief they were up to, or going of their own accord to escape debts or warrants.

Yet more illusionists had vanished than could be accounted for by the usual comings and goings, and no one had forgotten what had happened to Donnebric or Braundt. Whispers rippled along Durrow Street. Currents of fear ebbed and flowed among the theaters.

And then the dead body had washed up from the gray, lapping waters of the Anbyrn.

Merrick bowed his head over his cup. Several of the others gripped his shoulders. All of them knew his friend Braundt had also been a player at the Theater of Emeralds.

"Two missing from one house," Riethe said, letting out a heavy breath. "By G.o.d, that's cruel luck."

"And now two more have quit the theater," Mouse chimed in. "I heard about it yesterday. It was those dark-haired twins who performed there-they went back to the country."

"But why would they quit the theater?" Eldyn asked.

Mouse's nose wrinkled up. "Well, why do you think? They left the city because they don't want to be the next ones pulled out of the river."

"Hush, Mouse!" Dercy said, glaring at the smaller illusionist. "That's not the sort of talk we need tonight. We're here to celebrate. No one wants to hear your morbid ramblings."

"I have a right to say what I want," Mouse protested.

Riethe jerked a thumb at a piece of paper tacked to the wall. "Not according to the Rules of Citizenship, you don't. I believe Number Seventeen prohibits acting like an utter prat. You don't want us to call for the redcrests and have them haul you to Barrowgate, do you? I'm sure the Black Dog could use a hot poker to prod all sorts of interesting secrets out of you."

Mouse scowled and opened his mouth, but before he could say anything more, Merrick looked up from his drink.

"Mouse may be a prat, but what he heard is true. Teodan and Jerris did quit, and now the Theater of Emeralds is down by four players. I've heard they might have to shut their doors."

Riethe let out a snort. "Surely they have understudies. And they can always find another player if they have to."

"Can they?" Mouse said, crawling past Riethe onto the table and taking up the pitcher of punch. "New players of quality are hard to come by. Why do you think Madame Richelour was so keen to nab Eldyn? Besides, everyone knows that the master illusionist at the Theater of Emeralds has fallen deep into the grips of the mor-"

"Mouse!" Dercy said, angrily this time. "I said, enough. We're here to make merry. Understand? So get to it."

Dercy wrested the pitcher of punch from Mouse, filled a cup, and thrust it into the young man's hands. Mouse made a mocking bow, then sat cross-legged on the table and took a deep draught. As he did, long whiskers sprang outward from either side of his nose and a thin gray tail uncoiled behind him. This resulted in a burst of laughter all around.

With that, the ill mood was dispelled. More punch was called for, and before long a number of the young men were belting out bawdy songs, proving they were not nearly as skilled at singing as at making illusions. After some encouragement Eldyn joined in, and he found himself singing about less than savory ladies and sailors with unusual appendages. It was only after some time that he thought to glance across the tavern at the place where the three illusionists from the Theater of Emeralds sat.

The table was empty; the three young men were gone.

ELDYN AWOKE TO moonlight.

He turned his head on the pillow. Dercy lay next to him on the narrow bed, one arm flung above his head. The wan illumination washed all color from his skin and hair, and he might have seemed a thing carved of marble were it not for the steady rise and fall of his chest.

Moving quietly, Eldyn sat up against the plain wooden headboard. Some hours ago, having conjured an excess of heat, they had thrown open the shutters of the one small window in Dercy's room. Now the air flowing through the opening was cold against Eldyn's skin.

He slipped from the bed and moved to the window to close the shutters; then he paused. The moon was full, shining in the firmament like a silver coin that had just been minted. Despite the chill, he basked in its light and beauty.

It had been less than a year since he'd first seen an illusion play at the Theater of the Moon. Now he was performing there himself. Nor did finding out what went on behind the curtain in any way lessen the wonder of the play for him. Rather, it was all more marvelous than ever. at the Theater of the Moon. Now he was performing there himself. Nor did finding out what went on behind the curtain in any way lessen the wonder of the play for him. Rather, it was all more marvelous than ever.

With only the slightest flick of his finger, Eldyn brought forth an illusory dove. The bird perched upon his hand, its feathers exquisitely formed and as luminous as the moonlight itself. He could not help a pleased smile. For some reason, illusions were always especially easy for him to summon after he and Dercy had amused themselves upon the bed.

Eldyn tilted his hand, and the dove hopped down to the windowsill, puffing its chest as if readying itself to burst into song. Though of course that was not possible; the Siltheri had the power to conjure illusions only of light, not sound. Instead, the illusory dove stretched its wings. As it did, a slight tinge of crimson colored its white feathers.

Eldyn looked up. The heavens had continued their ceaseless turnings, and now another body had appeared in the sky, glowing a rusty red. The new planet, Cerephus, had grown so close that even to the naked eye it could be perceived as a tiny disk rather than a single point. Its proximity was what had caused the lumenals and umbrals to go all mad, and had made a jumble of the timetables in the almanac.

Well, at least there was an explanation for the increasing unpredictability of the length of days and nights. Yet what was it that was making everything else go mad these days? It seemed that every day brought a fresh report of rebels or traitors being shot down in some skirmish in the Outlands or getting hanged by the neck right here in the city. Yet it was paradoxical that the more traitors to the realm that were dispatched, the more of them there seemed to be. It was similar to the way the broadsheets continually reported shortages of land and work and food and candles, yet there never seemed to be a shortage of ink or paper to print grim news upon.

That's why the work we do is needed more than ever, Dercy had told him the other day when Eldyn, gloomy from looking through a copy of a copy of The Fox The Fox, had expressed these thoughts. People need something to help them forget all the darkness, and to remember how to see light and beauty People need something to help them forget all the darkness, and to remember how to see light and beauty.

Eldyn wanted to believe that was true. After all, when his own life was not so happy as it was now, illusion plays had allowed him to escape his troubles, at least for a time. Yet if the world needed illusionists so much, why were they being found bloodied on the steps of abandoned chapels and floating in the waters of the river?

He shivered, then gave his finger a flick, and the dove sprang off the sill to wing into the night sky, heading upward until the white bird was lost against the white moon. In the play, in the scene when Eldyn summoned the birds, the Moon was able to escape his captors. Yet his escape was only temporary; in the end, the Sun King still caught up to him.

Eldyn thought of the twins who had left the Theater of Emeralds and had returned to the country. Had they really escaped? Who was to say they would not be discovered for their nature there, and find themselves in the power of those who did not care for their kind?

Well, he hoped that would not be the case, for them or any others. In the meantime, Eldyn would be careful himself, and he would make liberal use of shadows if he was ever alone in unsavory places. Then, soon enough, when he had earned his and Sashie's portions, he would leave Durrow Street behind to take his place in the Church, and there, within those blessed walls, it was impossible that any harm should ever come to him.

"What are you doing over there?" spoke a sleepy voice.

"Just closing the shutters," Eldyn said softly. "The night is long, and has gotten cold. Go back to sleep."

"Great G.o.d, it is is cold," Dercy said, shuddering as he pulled up the bedcovers. "I can half see my breath. Come back here, will you?" cold," Dercy said, shuddering as he pulled up the bedcovers. "I can half see my breath. Come back here, will you?"

Eldyn pulled the shutters closed. Now only a thin sliver of moonlight pa.s.sed into the room. In the gloom he returned to the bed and climbed beneath the covers. But though he willed them to do so, his eyes did not shut.

Dercy leaned up on an elbow to look down at him. "Are you certain you're all right? I know that look-the way that small line appears just above the bridge of your nose." He yawned, then touched Eldyn's brow with a finger. "Something is troubling you, isn't it? Well, go on, then, tell me what it is. You know neither of us will get another wink until you do." certain you're all right? I know that look-the way that small line appears just above the bridge of your nose." He yawned, then touched Eldyn's brow with a finger. "Something is troubling you, isn't it? Well, go on, then, tell me what it is. You know neither of us will get another wink until you do."

Eldyn could only concede this was true, for he knew Dercy would not stop pressing him until he confessed to something. However, he didn't want to talk about the missing illusionists.

"What was Mouse talking about back at the tavern?" he said instead.

Dercy frowned. "Why should you care about anything Mouse said? If he utters a thing, then it can only be nonsense."

Eldyn sat up, trying to recall the little man's words. "He said there was something the matter with the master illusionist at the Theater of Emeralds. He started to say what it was, only you interrupted him." A thought came to him. "It's the same thing that's wrong with Master Tallyroth, isn't it?"

Dercy didn't answer right away, and by that Eldyn knew he was right. "What is it?" he said. "Master Tallyroth can only walk with the help of a cane. His hands are always shaking, and I never see him craft an illusion."

With a sigh, Dercy laid back down on the pillow and stared up into the darkness. "You've had enough to think about these last weeks, what with learning the craft and then taking to the stage. I didn't want you to be bothered by thinking about it. But now that you're Siltheri, you have to learn about it eventually."

"I have to learn about what?"

"About the mordoth."

The window was fast shut, but all the same Eldyn shuddered. "The mordoth," he murmured, the word strange and unpleasant on his tongue. "What is it?"

"It's an affliction. Some call it the Gray Wasting."

"I've never heard of an illness called that."

Dercy let out a snort. "That's no surprise. n.o.body but illusionists speaks of it, because n.o.body but an illusionist can be affected by it."

"It is very contagious, then?" Eldyn said, his chest growing tight.

"No," Dercy said firmly, sitting up. "No, it's not contagious. You can't catch the mordoth from anyone else. Which means it's nothing you need to have any worry about-not if you're careful."

"What do you mean, if I'm careful?"

Dercy leaned back against the headboard and seemed to think for several moments; then he looked at Eldyn. "When you conjure an illusion, do you know where it comes from?"