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Elza stood quickly as the cell door opened, smoothing her skirt and plucking straw from her hair. Just because she slept on moldy hay did not mean she had to wear it. And she would not give anyone - even Per - the satisfaction of seeing her messy. When one was about to die, one took what victories one could. She had had few enough.
And she knew she was going to die now. Not that there had been much hope before.
The other night, a woman with the hardest face Elza had ever seen had barged into the cell, dragging a handsome boy by a collar and all but ordering her to try to channel. Her demonstrations - and the way they had so obviously hurt the boy - had almost made Elza sick to her stomach. The idea of a woman channeling was bad enough, but using an innocent boy as a shield from the taint? And the way the woman had so obviously enjoyed knowing that she was causing her captive pain...
Elza shivered and clasped her hands together to keep them from trembling. She did not know what she had done next. One moment the woman was laughing down at the boy, the next she was being flung back against the cell wall hard enough to leave her with a lump the size of a goose egg. The boy had gaped at Elza as if he had never seen her before. It had been all she could do not to vomit right then and there. What she had done - what she had shown herself capable of - it did not bear thinking about.
She was a channeler - worse than a heretic, worse than a Child of the Light. They would not hang her; they would burn her publicly at the stake.
Oh, there had been other choices. She had seen the notes placed with her food - the ones that said all she had to do was swear to a different power and she would be not only saved, but placed high above any mere Sister. Elza smiled. Small victories. She had very deliberately torn the notes into pieces and dropped them into her chamber pot. There were some cases where it was better to die.
"Come to execute me?" she asked. Her voice sounded remarkably calm in her ears.
Per gave her a sickly smile. His beard really did need to be trimmed. "No. Hurry up and be quiet, girl. You don't have much time."
Elza stared at him. "What are you bloody talking about?"
"Do you want to live or not?" Per asked impatiently.
He did not need to ask twice. Holding her skirt up, Elza ran out of her cell and into the echoing hallway. The barred window at the far end showed the dusky light before dawn. "Why are you doing this?"
"What part of be quiet didn't you hear? Shut up and follow me."
Moving as quickly as they could, the two made their way along the hallway and down a curving flight of stairs. Elza risked a few quick looks at her strange rescuer's face, but she might as well have tried to read a stone. Why was Per doing this? He was loyal to the Order; what was he doing?
"Per?" Her voice echoed in the stairwell. "Where do they keep the boys for the a'grel?"
Per stopped so suddenly that she almost ran into him. When he finally looked at her, his face was unreadable. "Why?"
"My cousin is there," Elza lied. She could not leave the boy, not without suffering nightmares for the rest of her life. Not without being as bad as that horrible, hard woman. "I can't leave him. I could never live with myself."
There was a long moment when Per just stared at her - a moment when Elza was sure she was going to be returned to her cell and left there to rot. Then, finally, he spoke in a harsh whisper. "In barracks near the Sisterhood's. There's not a lot of them, but you can't take them out without a Sister."
Without a channeler, he means. "I can get him out," she said out loud. "Please, Per."
The guard stared at her. Elza clutched her skirt in her hands and made herself meet his eyes. You heard me, she thought bitterly. I could be a sister if I wanted. Any moment now he was going to call for help. She could almost feel the flames.
"I made a mistake, didn't I?" Per sighed and tugged at her arm. "Follow me." She opened her mouth to thank him, but he silenced her with a gesture. "And for the love of the Light, be quiet."
***
"Are we going to stay here all night?" Dav sounded sleepy. Jaia did not blame him; they had been standing for hours. The wolves had not tried to get any closer yet, but they had not left, either. "Can't we just sit down for a little while?"
"Not yet. Soon." Jaia switched her knife from one hand to the other, still watching warily. Three off to the right, four to the left, the leader right in front of her. She would have tried to kill him with a well-thrown knife, but the one just under him was ready to leap for Dav's throat at any minute. After so long spent simply watching, that one was getting impatient.
"I wish Quentin was here," Dav whimpered. He hid his face in her skirt and tried to edge away from the nearest wolf. Jaia stopped him with a hand; he was just moving closer to the more bloodthirsty one. "Can't you make the stones work, Jaia?"
"No. I wish I could. Don't worry, we'll get to rest soon." Jaia gave Dav a quick hug with her free hand. Light and Creation, I wish he hadn't come with us. I wish Quentin hadn't taken him. What am I going to do?
A shadow flashed off to the side. Jaia whirled in time to see the one she had feared emerging - an enormous he-wolf with a bent ear and a black-and-grey coat. Dav! She swung the petrified boy behind her, but the wolf kept coming. When was the leader going to intervene? How was she going to save Dav?
Why was this happening to her?
The wolf moved closer - and something inside Jaia Mideer snapped.
No! Mine! Teeth bared, growl rumbling in her throat, she scooped up the cub and stalked toward the wolf. Shaderunner. Let him run from her now; she was no prey! Her growl became a snarl. Mine! MINE! You can't have him!
Shaderunner held her furious glare for a long moment. Then, very slowly, he lowered his eyes, acknowledging her superiority.
Jaia took a stumbling step backwards, almost dropping Dav. The boy was staring at her as if deciding whether or not he was better on his own. She had no time to comfort him; she could not show weakness now. She could not wonder what had happened to her. He is mine, she growled, staring defiantly at each pair of eyes. We are not Neverborn. Do not hunt us! She did not know where the words came from and she did not care. Protecting Dav was all that mattered.
The leader stepped into the clearing. Sunmaker comes. That was the only way to describe the words. It was the smell the first dawn of a new world and the song of the being who had set the burning globe of the sun into the sky. Sunmaker. What kind of a name was that? She refused to look at the leader. Wolves did not talk.
The woods rustled and a man appeared, part of the forest one moment and standing in the clearing the next. He was several years older than Jaia, dressed in green leggings and a soft green tunic, watching the world with large emerald eyes. Even the strange, conical hat covering his black hair was green. A crystal sphere hung from a cord around his neck, glowing against his dark skin.
"You're Tashiri." Jaia was surprised to find the man's appearance produced no hatred. She was too tired to hate anything right now - and still too stunned at the fact that she had stared down wolves.
The man smiled. "Yes. I suppose I am. Merion ellu Sanib at your service, wolf sister." Jaia's glare only produced a laugh. "Calmly now. I have an...alliance with this pack, nothing more. Much less than you, I think." That piercing gaze stayed on Jaia's face for a long moment. "Well. I might have suspected as much. I was hoping not to become involved, but the Wheel weaves and we are mere threads in its Pattern."
Jaia kept careful rein on the growing urge to throttle the man. "What are you talking about?"
"I am here to help you, wolf sister. You and the boy." He laughed again, amused by something no one else could see. "I have things you might be in need of." A pointed glance was directed back at the useless stone. "Or you can stay here, if you wish."
"We would appreciate the help." Jaia managed not to grind her teeth. Or - to her horror - growl. What had she done to that wolf? What was going on? "If you'll tell us why," she added carefully.
Merion chuckled. "Wolf sister, you would not believe me if I told you."
"Try me."
"As you wish." Merion smiled and leaned on a treetrunk, perfectly at home in the middle of the woods. "Do you know what the Dreaming is?"
Jaia nodded slowly. She had heard some things, both from Tamla and from childhood stories. "It's where the heroes of old live until they are reborn. It's guarded by the Protector and her three servants."
"The Lady, the Fighter, the Scout," Dav added, voice muffled because his face was buried in Jaia's shoulder. "They keep nightmares away."
"Yes. We have different names in my homeland - the Sworn One, the Princess, and the Seer - but that is correct. They were the ones who told me to find you."
Jaia stared at her. "You expect me to believe that a story came and told you to find us?"
"Not you, necessarily. Three girls from the conquered province - a wolf sister, a warrior, and the one we call the Dragon. I was told I must help them. And that is why I am here." Merion smiled again. "I told you that you would not believe me."
"You're right. I don't." Jaia sighed and made sure she had a good grip on her knife. "But we don't have much of a choice, do we? Do you have a camp."
"Yes. Not far from here." Merion gestured grandly. "If you will follow me?"
I can always run if I need to, Jaia told herself as she followed the Tashiri. Light, what am I doing? I'm going to end up shipped east as a slave. That's what Tashiri do, right? That's what everyone always says.
A nasty little voice added Just like wolves always eat people?
Suppressing a shiver, Jaia squared her shoulders and made herself look straight ahead. She would find Tem and Mai and everyone from Baradell, and then they would all go home. Tamla, too; the songmistress deserved a warm bed and a place to call her own. Just as soon as she found everyone, that was what she would do.
"Jaia?" Dav asked around a huge yawn. "Your eyes look strange."
"I'm just tired, Dav." She gave the boy a pat of the head and kept walking. We'll all go home and everything will be fine. Just like it was before.
She wished she could believe that.
***
The plump, matronly woman who opened the door to the barracks had just enough time to stare open-mouthed before Elza hit her squarely between the eyes.
"I could break bricks with that woman's skull," she muttered, ignoring Per's gestures for silence. "Bloody hard-headed ninny." Her knuckles were going to hurt for days.
Rubbing her sore hand, she stepped over the prone woman and started down the small hallway. There were only six or seven doors, all heavy wood with a single barred window. They looked unpleasantly like cells. Elza grimaced and peered into the first small room. An old man slept on a plain cot, his collar clearly visible in the lamplight. Not the boy, but still a prisoner. She reached for the handle.
"Don't!" Per grabbed her arm and pulled her away. "He'll just call for help. Most of these men have been collared all their lives."
Elza tried to ignore the sour feeling in her stomach. That man was at least fifty. "He wouldn't want our help?"
"If you're treated like an animal long enough, sometimes you start to believe it." Per scratched at his beard and gave her a sour look. "Well? Find your cousin and get out of here?"
She wiggled free of Per's grip and moved further down the hall, looking through windows quickly in case any of the men were awake. None were, Light be praised. Most of them were more than old enough to be her father; some had only a few years on Jakob. The Order was really going to get it this time. She had been locked up for writing a treatise on the corruption of the High Seat - a treatise that had done a little damage, or else she would not have been locked up in the Manifest. That had been nothing compared to what she was going to do now. She was going to make sure every man, woman, and child knew what was going on in what was supposedly the Hall of the Light.
Finally, near end of the hallway, she spotted the boy curled up on his cot. "Here he is," she whispered as she pulled the heavy door open.
Either the boy had not been sleeping or he just woke up very quickly. His eyes went wide as he saw Elza and Per. He really was very handsome - or he would be when someone decided to feed him more than the dry crust sitting on the small table next to the bed. "What are you doing here?" he whispered. "You could be killed!"
"I'm here to rescue you, cousin." Elza gave the boy what she hoped was a pointed look. Whether it was or not, he caught the emphasis and nodded fractionally. She tried her best to ignore the hope gleaming in his eyes and focused her attention on searching the cell. The woman who had come into her cell had been attached to the boy with a bracelet. If she could just find it...
There. Hidden away under his bed. Holding it gingerly, Elza gestured for the boy to get up.
"I can't." The hope in the boy's eyes died as quickly as it had appeared. "I can't leave unless I'm attached to someone who can channel. Leese told me and she has no reason to lie. She likes to tell me how I can't escape." He smiled bitterly. "At least you're free. You'd better go."
He knew that she could channel. He had been there when she had actually done it. But he said nothing, because he did not want to give her away. Elza smiled tightly; she had been right to decide to rescue this boy. "It's okay," she said soothingly. "Per knows." She clipped the bracelet around her wrist and immediately fought the urge to claw it off. There was a bundle of sensations in the back of her mind, as if she could see into the back of the boy's head. "Well?" she gasped. "Get up! I don't want to wear this thing any longer than I have to."
The boy rose slowly as if not really believing his luck. "You can get it off now if you concentrate."
"On what?" Elza tried to peer at the bundle without touching it; she did not want to hurt the boy accidently. "I don't know what I'm doing."
He just shrugged. "I don't know, either. I've had this thing on since I was seven."
Elza sighed and concentrated on the bundle. There was a faint band around it, a little flicker, almost as if it was holding the sensations in. She imagined the band pulling apart and releasing the bundle.
The collar clicked open. The boy threw it onto the bed and glared at it as if he was imagining someone else's neck stuck in it. Elza yanked the bracelet off and put it by the collar, barely managing to suppress her shudders. "We'd better go," she said hoarsely.
"Right." The boy held the door open and shut it behind them with a solid thunk before following them down the long hallway. "I'm Brendell Cane," he said after a moment - apparently to Per, but Elza knew it was also for her benefit.
"Per Connley," was the gruff answer. "And you know Elza." Occupied with stepping over the unconcious woman, Per missed Elza's relieved grin; she would not have to figure out a way to tell the boy her name. "Stay quiet now," the guard cautioned. "There's not a lot of people on guard this early, but being careful never hurt anyone."
"I know how to be careful," Elza muttered, pulling Brendell along when he started to glare at the woman. Now that she could get a good look at him, she could see she had been mistaken about calling him a boy. He was only a year or so younger than her, if that. "Per, where in the name of Creation are we going?"
"Here." Per led them across a small, shadowy courtyard and down the dark alley between two large storage rooms. Elza had no idea how he kept so quiet; her solid boots made loud clumps with every step. There really were no guards out this early, but Elza supposed the High Seat would not plan on people sneaking out of the Manifest.
The small door that Per led them to was bolted and barred, but as far away from the main gates as it was possible to be. As soon as they were out of the gate and away from the - for lack of a more suitable word - fortress, Elza breathed a deep sigh of relief. She was out of the Manifest, thank the Light and Creation.
Per did not seem so happy. He glared at the gloom as if expecting something to pop out of it. "Katerina? Katerina, get your flaming rear out here this minute or I'll - "
"You'll what?" A woman dressed in a snow-white tunic and brown breeches detached herself from the shadows around the wall. Her golden hair was cropped shorter than most men's and had been squashed under a simple helmet. She wore a dagger and a sword at her side and carried what looked like a white cloak tucked under one arm. Elza did not consider herself short, but she had to crane her neck just to meet this woman's - this Katerina's - amused gray eyes. "What can you do to me, Per? You didn't tell me you were bringing a Sister." She made the word sound like a slur.
Per glared at her. "I didn't. She's the prisoner. The boy's her cousin."
Katerina raised an eyebrow. "How'd she get him out?" When Elza just glared at her, she shrugged. "Sorry for asking, I'm sure. Follow me." With a flourish, she flung her cloak around her shoulders and set off into the night.
"She's one of the Children?" Brendell pointed to the golden sun gleaming on the woman's cloak. "And she's wearing that in here?"
Per sighed. "Boy, you don't tell Katerina Berekovi to disguise herself."
The name brought no recognition from Elza, but Brendell jumped as if he had been prodded. "That's Berekovi? I thought - "
"Are you planning on talking all night? It's almost dawn!" Katerina glowered at them from the end of the alley. "Hurry up!"
Elza had no chance to ask what Brendell had thought about Berekovi. Per grabbed his two charges bodily and pulled them after the enigmatic Child of the Light.
***
Tem flopped onto the grass and glowered at the night. The little group was on an easily-defended hillock and they had no fire, so the Trocs would have a hard time finding them. And they needed rest. Even Darris, for all his blustering. Light, but she wanted a chance to stop running.
Especially from her own thoughts.
Where did those words come from? she wondered as she poked at the ground with a stick. I know I didn't mean to say them. They just came out. What's wrong with me? She threw a glance over her shoulder at the bundle of blankets that was Mai. The light that had flashed in her friend's eyes, however briefly...
She shivered. Light, why does Mai hate me?
"Copper for your thoughts." Tamla settled herself gracefully on the ground, idly twirling a long throwing knife through her slim fingers. Despite the last few days, the songmistress did not look the worse for wear. She would have been beautiful wrapped in burlap and dunked in manure.
"My thoughts aren't worth a bent nail right now," Tem muttered.
"Could be." The songmistress shrugged. "Same could be said about mine. If you cracked open my head, you would find music and stories. Nothing else." She smiled that perfect smile, white teeth gleaming even in the faint starlight. "Oh, I care about what happens around me. I want Mai to succeed as much as anyone else. But deep down in my heart, music is what matters. So you see," she finished as she made the knife vanish somewhere up her voluminous sleeve, "your thoughts are probably worth a lot more than mine."
"Tamla?" Tem licked her lips and kept going before she could lose her courage. "What happened at Arma'gai'din?"
Tamla chuckled. "Quite a question. Better to ask what did not happen."
"The seventh Seal wasn't placed. I know that." Tem jabbed the stick into the ground. "I want to know why they couldn't get it right. I want to know what went wrong."
"A lot of things. Depends on who you ask." The songmistress frowned up at the sky. "The last Seal wasn't balanced right - too much idar, too little idan. That's why the Dark One's taint on idar is not as bad as the Madness; there was something of the other half of the One Power there to buffer it. The bigger question," she added as she looked back at Tem, "is why they did not reach the right balance. It took three women just to match the Worldbreaker when they were placing the Seals. Those women were his younger sister Gwen and two others - no one alive remembers their names, but they were powerful."
"So if they were all matched perfectly, why didn't the last Seal work?"
"Because the Worldbreaker was killed before he could finish his half of it," Tamla said simply. "With the blade from Sha'loth It was tainted by evil. Not even the Light's champion stood much of a chance against it." She gave Tem a long, considering look, as if weighing how much to tell her. "One of the Worldbreaker's closest friends made a choice between him and the three women, and he died for it."
"I didn't have a choice!" Tem could not have moved if a hundred Trocs had descended on them all.No. That wasn't me.
"Tem?" Tamla's concerned voice seemed to come from a long way away. "Tem, listen to me. This is a different Age. Things can be changed. Tem, did you hear me? That friend wasn't you. Mai doesn't have to die."
She just has to destroy everyone she loves to save the world. Please, Light, I didn't leave her to die. Tem tried to push herself to her feet, barely aware of Tamla watching her with worried eyes. I'm Tem E'Brell. I didn't leave her to die! Something caught in her throat. I'm Tem E'Brell. Light help me, I'm Tem E'Brell! A sob escaped her before she could stop it. She wanted to run away, as far and fast as she could. If only her knees would stop giving way. I'm the reason Mai's going to go mad. It's all my fault.
She was barely aware of Tamla holding her gently, murmuring soothing words that she could not really hear. Blood and ashes, it's all my fault.
***
"Softly, child, softly now,
Sun and moon and stars are resting.
Softly, child, softly sleep
Safely sleep, the world is resting."
Tamla whispered the lullaby as she let Tem cry herself to sleep, rocking the girl like a baby. She had not meant to upset her. It was only a story. Arma'gai'din was two thousand years gone.
Except...
It was not a story for these girls. Tem was someone very important; that much was clear to Tamla. Souls were spun out to do what they were destined to do - and she feared that Tem was not going to have an easy life. It was a hard thing to realize on a hill in the middle of the night. She cared for the three girls like an older sister, but she could not protect them, no matter how much she wanted to.
Still humming softly, she reached for idar and wove a blanket of Spirit around Tem. She was used to hunting down holes in the taint; it was like looking for patches of clear water on an ocean covered by a filthy oil slick. This time she was lucky enough to find a gap big enough for her purposes.
She smiled grimly. Maybe she could not save the girl from her future, but she could protect her dreams for a day. Now that Quentin was not here, she could channel a little bit of the One Power. She was not nearly as strong as Mai, but she was still fairly formidable. And dense weaves like blankets were one of her special skills. Whatever nightmares Tem had tonight would be of her own creation.
I don't want to fight them, she thought sadly as she stared up at the stars. How do you stop being someone's friend? How do you hurt someone who trusts you? Blood and fire, how?
Blinking back tears, the songmistress looked down at Tem. The girl had finally fallen asleep. Please, Great Lord, don't make me hurt them.
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