Apsalar could just make out the shade as it drifted towards a long table to the right. On it were smaller versions of the skeletal behemoth, three of them crow-sized, although instead of beaks the creatures possessed long snouts lined with needle-like teeth. The bones had been bound together with gut and the figures were mounted so that they stood upright, like sentry meer-rats.
Urko was studying Apsalar, an odd expression on his blunt, strongfeatured face. Then he seemed to start, and said, 'I have brewed some tea.'
'That would be nice, thank you.'
He walked over to the modest kitchen area and began a search for cups.
'It's not that I don't want visitors… well, it is. They always bring trouble. Did Dancer have anything else to say?'
'No. And he now calls himself Cotillion.'
'I knew that. I'm not surprised he's the Patron of Assassins. He was the most feared killer in the empire. More than Surly, who was just treacherous. Or Topper, who was just cruel. I suppose those two still think they won. Fools. Who now strides among the gods, eh?' He brought a clay cup over. 'Local herbs, mildly toxic but not fatal. Antidote to buther snake bites, which is a good thing, since the bastards infest the area. Turns out I built my tower near a breeding pit.'
One of the small skeletons on the tabletop fell over, then jerkily climbed back upright, the tail jutting out, the torso angling almost horizontal.
'One of my ghost companions has just possessed that creature,' Apsalar said. A second one lurched into awkward motion.
'Gods below,' whispered Urko. 'Look how they stand! Of course! It has to be that way. Of course!' He stared up at the massive fossil skeleton. 'It's all wrong! They lean forward – for balance!'
Telorast and Curdle were quickly mastering their new bodies, jaws snapping, hopping about on the tabletop.
'I suspect they won't want to relinquish those skeletons,' Apsalar said.
'They can have them – as reward for this revelation!' He paused, looked round, then muttered, 'I'll have to knock down a wall…'
Apsalar sighed. 'I suppose we should be relieved one of them did not decide on the big version.'
Urko looked over at her with slightly wide eyes, then he grunted. '
Drink your tea – the toxicity gets worse as it cools.'
She sipped. And found her lips and tongue suddenly numb.
Urko smiled. 'Perfect. This way the conversation stays brief and you can be on your way all the sooner.'
'Mathard.'
'It wears off.' He found a stool and sat down facing her. 'You're Dancer's daughter. You must be, although I see no facial similarities – your mother must have been beautiful. It's in your walk, and how you stand there. You're his beget, and he was selfish enough to teach you, his own child, the ways of assassination. I can see how that troubles you. It's there in your eyes. The legacy haunts you – you're feeling trapped, caged in. There's already blood on your hands, isn't there?
Is he proud of that?' He grimaced, then spat. 'I should've drowned him then and there. Had I been drunk, I would have.'
'You are wong.'
'Wong? Wrong, you mean? Am I?'
She nodded, fighting her fury at his trickery. She had come with the need to talk, and he had stolen from her the ability to shape words. '
Nnnoth th-aughther. Mmothethed.'
He frowned.
Apsalar pointed at the two reptilian skeletons now scuttling about on the stone-littered floor. 'Mmothethion.'
'Possession. He possessed you? The god possessed you? Hood pluck his balls and chew slow!' Urko heaved himself to his feet, hands clenching into fists. 'Here, hold on, lass. I have an antidote to the antidote.'
He found a dusty beaker, rubbed at it until a patch of the glazed reddish earthenware was visible. 'This one, aye.' He found another cup and poured it full. 'Drink.'
Sickly sweet, the taste then turning bitter and stinging. 'Oh. That was… fast.'
'My apologies, Apsalar. I'm a miserable sort most of the time, I admit it. And I've talked more since you arrived than I have in years. So I' ll stop now. How can I help you?'
She hesitated, then looked away. 'You can't, really. I shouldn't have come. I still have tasks to complete.'
'For him?'
She nodded.
'Why?'
'Because I gave my word.'
'You owe him nothing, except maybe a knife in his back.'
'Once I am done… I wish to disappear.'