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 I know why you ve come. She squatted by the fire and caressed the dead head
of a great gray wolf. Its tongue lolled out, black and senseless, between broken fangs.
 You ve come to plead for his life.
The shadow wolves gathered around the fire, padding to and fro, circling us.
Ash s wolves, sacrificed to sniff out murder. I clutched the lute case tighter.  He didn t
kill Andrey.
 Does it matter? She shrugged.  Blood must be spilled for blood. Blood makes
the world so nicely slippery. It helps along all those awful& sticking points.
I took a step back, away from her smile. The white shadow still wavered below the
thin skin of her features, and that shadow would think nothing of gobbling me up and
spitting my bones onto its wild green fire. She cannot hurt me. My life belongs to Orias. But
would that save me down here in her lair? Did not blood share everything?
 What do you want? I asked.  In exchange for Ash s life.
 Nothing you can give. She laughed.  But there is something I can take. Oh, it s
such a perfect joke, you coming down here. Like a knight in the old tales come to slay
the monster. What have you hidden in your sack there, Leith Inmer? A sword to cut my
head off? So you can save your beloved?
Forest of Glass 139
My heart hammering, the wolves closing in, I took the lute from its case and
turned it toward her.  I brought nothing but this.
She was silent for a long while, silent and still. The fire flickered; she threw
another black log atop it, and it flared up green and hungry.  Is that what you have to
offer me?
 You used to take bards, I said.  It wasn t just lords sons and slaves for your
kitchens. I know the old tales as well, Beleth. What will you give me for a song?
 Your songs belong to my brother.
 And you ve never played with your brother s things?
For a moment I thought she would leap upon me like one of the wolves and tear
my throat out. The flickering white shadow would leap through the skin of the woman
and turn me into a bloody smear upon the rocky cavern floor.  You are a bold enough
boy, she said after too long a silence.  Play for me and play well, and you ll get three
truths. One for each of your betrayals.
Not exactly what a bard wanted to hear before he played but it would have to
do. The shadow wolves sat on their haunches, watching, the wisps of their dark ears
perked and alert. They were listening; would they judge my song?
Well. I smiled to myself. My green-lit fingers felt suddenly warm and nimble. If
that was to be the case, only one song would serve.
I tuned my lute and played the piper s tune though it was not the piper s
anymore, not truly. I had made it my own with my fingers slide across the strings. A
hush fell over the cavern as I played, and I realized that the shadow wolves did make
noise as they moved, though soft as silk drawn over steel now, though, they were still,
and they made no more noise than true shadows did. They were still, and they listened
to the song.
The last note rang out into the echoing hollow of the cave. I breathed and put my
lute away. Then the wolves began to howl. First the largest shadow, standing closest to
140 John Tristan
the fire, let out a sound like a dying man s cry. Then another and another took up its
howl, and they shut their eyes to raise their heads to the unseen moon.
Beleth stared at me with something strangely like envy in her all-black eyes. They
cannot sing, I realized; not once had I seen the Fair play the harp, pound a drum, or
sing. The changelings could in their way, drumming out the rhythm of a heartbeat or
playing old songs on older instruments& but I had a notion that none of Fair blood
could make new songs. That was why they needed us.
 Well played, she spat out.  You ve earned your reward. She crept closer to me,
step by small step. I felt a crawling cold down the back of my neck. Run, a voice inside
me said. Run while you still can but I knew that if I did, she would pounce; I would feel
that white shadow s teeth close on my jugular.
She thrust up three fingers, each pale length topped with a claw as black and
shiny as her eyes.  Three questions.
 Three truths.
 Just so. She bared her teeth, an expression nothing like a smile.  Use them well.
I took a breath.  Where is Ash?
 In a cage in the bone orchard, waiting for his hanging.
The largest of the shadow wolves set up a chilling howl. Beleth looked over her
shoulder and hissed. The wolf fell silent, its muzzle dipping to the ground. A memory
of gray fur seemed to move under its skin of liquid black. Ash, I thought, she killed
your wolves.
 Ask your second question. I grow impatient.
My heartbeat rushed through my ears. I could taste the scent of Beleth s skin at the
back of my throat, she stood so close; she smelled of snow and blood, and her breath of
bitter almonds. My hands tightened on my lute case. I felt the neck of the lute below the
fabric.  Did Ash kill Andrey?
 No.
Forest of Glass 141
I bit my lip. No hesitations as I d half expected, but a simple no. I saw a flash of
black behind me, the shadow wolves closing in.  Who did?
 Have you not come to that knowledge yourself, Leith Inmer?
I thought I had, but I wanted to be sure.  You promised me three truths, Beleth.
Her lips rolled back from too-sharp teeth; now, she did smile.  It was me.
142 John Tristan
Chapter Twenty-Five
Revelations in the Dark
 Why? I asked.
She shook one of her long, clawed fingers from side to side.  That is four
questions. You aren t entitled to that truth. Her smile flashed against the poison color
of the fire, and for a moment she seemed almost human again, the white shadow
beneath her skin faded to a memory.  But let it never be said I am not generous. This
truth, I ll give you for free.
She turned away, and I let out a breath I had not been aware of holding. My head
had grown thick and dizzy with the smell of her.  I wanted him gone, and at your
hand.
 My hand?
She made a dismissive gesture.  Your kind. We do not hurt our own, after all.
She spat.  Our own. As if he blooded himself for us. As if he stood before hell to make
his vows!
 You you wanted them to think it was one of us.
 Of course. Her mouth turned down in a perfect, ladylike moue.  I will miss my
Ash, though, she said.  He was the only one of you that was of any use. If my brother
had a lick of sense, he would have poached him away and offered him a moonsteel
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