Upstairs a single lamp burned in a niche near Arkoniel's chamber. She tiptoed past, keeping her gaze fixed on the tower door. Only when her hand was on the tarnished latch did she recall it had been locked since her mother's death, the key long since thrown away. Brother had opened the door for her last time.

 

"Brother," she whispered. "Please?"

 

She pressed her ear to the door, listening for any sign of him. The wood was cold, much colder than it should have been on a summer night, even here.

 

Another memory stirred. She'd stood here before, imagining the bloody, angry ghost of her mother just on the other side, in a rising tide of blood. She looked down, but nothing crept out from beneath it but a big grey spider. She flinched as it scuttled across her bare foot. "Tamir?"

 

She nearly dropped her lamp as she whirled around. Arkoniel caught it and placed it safely in a niche beside the door.

 

"Bilairy's balls! You scared the piss out of me!" she gasped.

 

"Sorry. I knew you'd come and thought you might need some help with that lock. And you'll need this, too."

 

He opened his left hand and light spilled out between his fingers from the small pebble glowing there.

 

She took the lightstone. It was cool as moonlight in her hand. "Less chance of me setting the place on fire with this, I guess."

 

"I should go with you."

 

"No. The Oracle said it's my burden. Stay here. I'll call out if I need you."

 

He pressed a palm to the door beside the lock and Tamir heard the wards grind and fall. She lifted the latch and pushed the door open with a squeal of rusty hinges. Cold air rushed out, smelling of dust and mice and the forest beyond the river.

 

They stepped into the little open space between the door and the base of the tower stairs and Arkoniel pushed the door to, leaving it open just a crack.

 

She climbed the stairs slowly, holding the lightstone up and steadying herself with one hand against the wall. The scabrous feel of lichen and bird droppings brought back more memories. She felt like a little child again, following her mother up these stairs for the first time.

 

I'm like these swallows, with my nest high above the keep.

 

The door at the top of the stairs stood wide, a gaping mouth of darkness. She could hear the breeze sighing in the room beyond, and the skitter of mice. It took all her courage to climb those last few stairs.

 

She paused in the doorway, clinging to the jamb as she searched the deeper shadows beyond. "Mother, are you here? I've come home."

 

Ki had guessed what Tamir intended to do the moment they'd turned aside for the keep. During supper he'd seen how often her gaze strayed to the stairs. When she turned down his offer to stay with her that night, he knew for certain she meant to go to the tower alone.

 

Lying in bed beside Lynx, he listened until his ears rang, and heard the sound of her door quietly opening and the soft pad of bare feet passing his door.

 

She'd have asked me to come if she'd wanted me along. Tamir had always been close-mouthed about the ghosts who haunted this place, even with him. So he wrestled with himself, and tried to sleep, but every instinct said to follow her.

 

He'd lain down in his shirt and breeches. It was a simple matter to ease out of bed and step carefully around the squires on their pallets. He thought the others were all asleep, but as he opened the door to creep out, he glanced back and saw Lynx watching him.

 

Ki put a finger to his lips and closed the door softly behind him, wondering what his friend thought he was off to do. There was no help for that now.

 

There was no sign of Tamir. He crept up the stairs and paused, stealing a quick look down this corridor just in time to see Arkoniel slipping through the tower door.

 

That gave him pause. She'd left him behind, but asked the wizard to help? Ki shrugged off the hurt and stole down the corridor to the tower door. It was slightly ajar and he pushed it open.

 

Arkoniel was sitting on the bottom step, fidgeting with his wand. A lightstone glowed on the next step up.

 

Arkoniel gave a start when he saw Ki, then shook his head. "I might have known you'd show up," he whispered. "She insisted on going alone, but I don't like it. Stay here with me. She'll call if she needs me." Ki joined him on the step. "Is her mother really up there?"

 

"Oh yes. Whether or not she chooses to show herself—"

 

He broke off, and they both looked up as they heard the faint sound of Tamir's voice. Ki broke out in goose-flesh, knowing what it meant. Tamir was talking with the dead.

 

"Mother?"

 

There was no reply.

 

The room was just as Tamir remembered. Broken furniture, rotting bolts of cloth, and mice-chewed bales of stuffing wool still lay where Brother had thrown them, A table had been righted under the east window and the last of her mother's mouthless dolls sat there in a row, leaning awkwardly against each other like drunken men. Arkoniel had found her doll among them; she could see a gap where it had been.

 

She went to the table and picked one up. It was mildewed and discolored, but her mother's small, careful stitches were still visible in the seams. She held it up to her light, looking at the blank face. This one was still plump with wool, its limbs even and loose. It surprised her, how tempting it was to carry it away with her. In a way, she missed the misshapen doll she'd hidden for so long, though it had been a burden at the time. But it had also been a tie to her mother, and her past. She clutched this doll impulsively to her heart. How she'd wanted her mother to make one for her! Tears stung her eyes and she let them fall, mourning the childhood she'd been denied.

 

A soft sigh made the hair on her neck stand up. She turned and searched the room, clutching the doll and the lightstone.

 

The sigh came again, louder this time. Tamir squinted into the shadows by the western window—the window her mother had leaped from, that winter day. The one she'd tried to push Tamir out of.

 

Brother's not here to save me this time.

 

"Mother?" Tamir whispered again.

 

She heard the rustle of skirts, and another sigh, full of pain. Then, in the faintest of whispers, a ghostly voice murmured, my child—

 

Hope made the breath catch in Tamir's throat. She took a step closer. "Yes, it's me!"

 

Where is my child? Where? Where—

 

The brief stab of hope died, just as it always had. "Mother?"

 

Where is my son?

 

It was just like it had been on her mother's worst days. She wasn't even aware of Tamir, longing instead for the child she'd lost.

 

Tamir started to speak again, but a sharp crack startled her so badly she nearly dropped the lightstone. The shutters on the western window shook as if they'd been struck, then creaked slowly open, pushed by unseen hands.

 

Tamir clenched the doll and stood her ground, watching in mounting horror as a dark figure resolved from the shadows and lurched with slow, jerking steps to the window. Its face was turned away, as if watching the river below the window.

 

The ghostly woman wore a dark gown and was clutching something to her breast. She was of a height with Tamir and her shining black hair fell in loose disarray to her waist. Strands of it stirred around her, coiling lazily on the air. Framed against the night sky, she seemed as solid as a living person.

 

"Mo—mother? Look at me, Mother. I'm here. I've come to see you."

 

Where is my child? The whisper was more of a hiss this time.

 

Where is your mother? The Oracle's voice goaded her. "I'm your daughter. I'm called Tamir. I was Tobin, but I'm Tamir now. Mother, look at me. Hear me!"

 

Daughter? The ghost turned slowly, still with that unnatural, jerking hesitation, as if she'd forgotten how a body moved. She was holding her old misshapen doll, or at least its ghost. Tamir held her breath as she caught sight of a pale cheek, a familiar profile. Then her mother was facing her, and the sight of her was like an eerie mirror.

 

The others were right after all, Tamir thought numbly, beyond fear as those eyes came to rest on her with something like recognition. In the months since the change, Tamir's face had altered subtly, not so much softening as shifting into more of a semblance of this dead woman's face. Tamir took a step toward her, vaguely aware that they were clutching their dolls the same way, in the crook of their left arm.

 

"Mother, it's me, your daughter," she tried again, searching for comprehension in that face.

 

Daughter?

 

"Yes! I've come to tell you that you have to go on, to the gate."

 

The ghost saw her now. Daughter?

 

Tamir moved the light to her left hand and reached out to her. Her mother mirrored her, reaching out to her. Their fingertips brushed and Tamir could feel them, solid as her own but deathly cold as Brother's.

 

Undeterred, she clasped that cold hand tight. "Mother, you must rest. You can't stay here anymore."

 

The woman came closer, staring at Tamir as if she was trying to understand who she was.

 

A tear tickled down Tamir's cheek. "Yes, it's me."

 

Suddenly the room was bright around them. Sunlight streamed in at all the windows, and the room was cozy and filled with color and the good smells of wood and sun-dried linen and candles. The hearth was filled with withered flowers and the chairs were upright beside it, their tapestry cushions whole and unblemished. Dolls littered the table, dean and dressed in little velvet outfits.

 

Her mama was alive, blue eyes warm with one of her rare smiles. "Have you learned your letters, Tobin?"

 

"Yes, Mama." Tamir was crying outright now. She dropped the doll and the lightstone and embraced her. It was strange, being tall enough to bury her face in that silky black hair, but she didn't question it, overcome by the light flower scent she remembered so well. "Oh Mother, I've come home to help you. I'm sorry I was gone so long. I tried to help Brother. I really did!"

 

Warm hands stroked her hair and back. "There, there, don't cry my darling. There's a good boy—"

 

Tamir froze. "No, Mother, I'm not a boy anymore—" She tried to pull back, but her mother held her tight.

 

"My sweet, dear boy. How I love you! I was so frightened when I couldn't find you."

 

Tamir began to struggle, and then they both went still as the sound of horsemen came to them from the road outside.

 

Ariani released her and ran to the east window. "He's found us!"

 

"Who? Who's found us?" Tamir whispered.

 

"My brother!" Ariani's eyes were wide with terror and black as Brother's as she rushed back to Tamir and grasped her arm in a painful grip. "He's coming! But he won't have us. No, he won't have us!"

 

And she pulled Tamir toward the west window.

 

Ki and Arkoniel had moved halfway up the stair, straining to make out what Tamir was saying. Suddenly they heard her call out to her mother, pleading with her about something.

 

Then the door at the top of the stairs slammed shut with a bang so loud that Ki missed his footing and tumbled backward into Arkoniel. Tamir knew beyond all doubt that she was fighting for her life, just as she had that other day. Her mother had been too strong for her then, and her ghost easily overpowered her now. Caught in that inexorable grip, Tamir was dragged across the floor toward the window as if she weighed no more than a child.

 

"No, Mother, no!" she pleaded, trying to break loose.

 

It was no use. The specter gave a last yank and Tamir found herself halfway out the window, teetering with her belly on the sill, only her bent knees keeping her from falling. It was night again. The river flowed black and the rocks it tumbled around looked silver and she was tilting farther and screaming and something dark was hurtling past her, dragging her down, a pale wraith with swirling skirts and wild black hair…

 

Ki and Arkoniel tumbled over each other to the base of the stairs. Ki was up first and dashed back up, heedless of the bruises or the taste of blood in his mouth as he took the worn steps two and three at a time. He struck the door with his shoulder and wrenched at the latch, but someone or something was holding it shut from the other side. He could hear the sounds of a struggle, and Tamir's wordless cry of fear.

 

"Arkoniel, help!" Ki yelled, frantic. "Tamir, can you hear me?"

 

"Get back!" Arkoniel shouted.

 

Ki barely had time to duck before a wave of force swept over him, knocking the door off its hinges. Ki scrambled up again and bolted into the room. It was cold inside, and a foul, swampy odor hung in the air. A lightstone lay amid the wreckage on the floor, casting enough illumination to see the horrid, bloody figure at the west window trying to force Tamir out. All Ki could see of her were her flailing legs and bare feet. Even as Ki dashed to save her, the thing thrust her out over the sill.

 

It was a woman, that much he could tell in his headlong rush. The form was pale and flickered like fox fire. Ki had an impression of writhing black hair and empty black eyes in a bone-pale face. Hands like claws clutched Tamir by the hair and tunic as it shoved her out even farther.

 

"No!" Ki reached Tamir just as she began to teeter over the brink. He lunged through the specter and felt an even denser chill, but his hands were strong and sure as he caught Tamir by one bare foot and hauled with all his might, roughly dragging her back to safety.

 

Tamir collapsed limply to the floor. Ki crouched over her, ready to fend off her mother's vengeful spirit with his bare hands if he had to, but there was no sign of her now.

 

He pulled Tamir farther from the window, then gently turned her over. Her eyes were closed and her face was horribly pale. Blood flowed from a deep cut across her chin, but she was breathing.

 

Arkoniel stumbled across the littered floor and fell to his knees beside them. "How is she?"

 

"I don't know."

 

Hands clawed at her back, then Tamir was flying backward again. Something struck her chin hard enough to stun her. The world spun—stars and river and rough stone walls and darkness.

 

Then she was lying in the dark, ruined room again and someone was holding her tight, so tight she couldn't breathe.

 

"Mother, no!" she screamed, struggling with what little strength she had left.

 

"No, Tamir, it's me! Open your eyes. Arkoniel, do something, for hell's sake!"

 

She heard a sharp crack and she was blinking in soft pale light. It was Ki holding her, his face etched with sorrow. Arkoniel stood just behind him, wand in hand, blood streaming from a cut on his forehead. A strange smell hung in the air, bitter like burned hair.

 

"Ki?" She tried in vain to comprehend what had just happened. She felt chilled to the bone and her heart was pounding so hard it hurt.

 

"I have you, Tamir. I'm taking you out of here." He stroked her hair back with shaking fingers.

 

"My mother—"

 

"I saw her. I won't let her hurt you again. Come on!" He dragged her up and wrapped an arm around her waist.

 

Tamir found her feet and staggered with him for the door. Ki's arm was strong and sure around her, but she could still feel the icy grip of her mother's hands.

 

"Take her down to my room. I'm going to seal this door," Arkoniel said behind them.

 

Somehow Ki got her down the stairs without falling and hurried her into Arkoniel's chamber. Candles and lamps burned brightly there, casting a bright, comforting glow.

 

Ki lowered her into a chair by the empty hearth, then yanked a blanket from the bed and tucked it around her. Kneeling, he chafed her hands and wrists. "Say something, please!"

 

She blinked slowly. "I'm all right. She—she isn't here. I don't feel her anymore."

 

Ki glanced around and let out a shaky laugh. "That's good news. I don't ever want to see anything like that again." He used a corner of the blanket to dab at her chin. It hurt and she flinched away.

 

"Hold still," Ki said. "You're bleeding."

 

She touched her chin and felt warm, sticky wetness there. "The sill. I hit the sill. Just like before."

 

Ki gently pulled her fingers away. "Yes, just like before, only you're going to have a bigger scar this time."

 

Tamir clutched her forehead, feeling faint. "He—Brother? He pulled me back?"

 

"No, that was me. I heard you cry out, and got there just—" He was pressed close to her, his belly against her knees. He was shaking.

 

"By the Flame," he went on, his voice less steady now. "She almost had you out, that horrible creature. It was worse than Brother—" He broke off again and wrapped his arms around her as if she could still fall.

 

"You pulled me back?" she whispered against his shoulder.

 

"Yes, but I almost lost you. Damn it, what were you thinking, going up alone?"

 

He was weeping! She hugged him, burying one hand in his hair. "Don't cry. You were there, Ki. You saved me. It's all right."

 

Concern for him swept away the last of her fear. She'd never heard Ki weep like this before. It shook his whole body and his grip on her was painfully tight again, but it felt good.

 

At last he sat back on his heels, wiping his face on his sleeve. "I'm sorry! I just—I thought—" Tamir saw real fear in his eyes. "I didn't think I was going to get to you in time, before she—" He grabbed her by the arms as fear gave way to anger. "Why, Tamir? What made you go up there alone?"

 

"The Oracle said—"

 

He shook her angrily. "That you ought to get yourself killed?"

 

"What did the Oracle say to you?" asked Arkoniel, coming in to join them. The bitter smell around him was stronger than it had been upstairs.

 

"She told me that my mother—how she is now—it's my burden. I thought that meant I was supposed to set her free. I thought if she saw me in my true form, it would—I don't know, that it would give her peace? But it didn't," she finished miserably. "It was just like that day Uncle came here."

 

"Then Nari was right." Arkoniel stroked Tamir's hair. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

 

"I don't know. I guess I was ashamed."

 

"Of what?" asked Ki. Tamir hung her head. They couldn't know what it had been like, to not be enough, to not be seen.

 

"Forgive me, Tamir. I should never have let you go alone." Arkoniel sighed. "You can't reason with a spirit like that, any more than you could with Brother."

 

"Then why did the Oracle tell her to do it?" Ki demanded.

 

"I can't imagine. Maybe Tamir misunderstood."

 

"I don't think so," Tamir whispered.

 

"Damn Illiorans!"

 

"You mustn't blaspheme, Ki," Arkoniel chided.

 

Ki stood up and wiped his face. "I'm staying with you, in case she comes back. Don't even try to talk me out of it. Can you walk?"

 

Tamir was too tired to pretend she didn't want that.

 

"Stay here," said Arkoniel. "I have protections on this room, and I'll keep watch outside. Rest well." He went out, closing the door behind him.

 

Tamir let Ki tuck her into Arkoniel's bed, and caught his hand when he was finished. "Sleep with me? I—I need you."

 

Ki climbed in under the covers with her and pulled her into his arms. She put an arm around his waist and relaxed against his shoulder. He stroked her hair for a few minutes, then she felt the warm press of lips against her forehead. She brought his hand to her lips and kissed him back.

 

"Thank you. I know this isn't—"

 

Lips against her own cut off the apology. Ki was kissing her, really kissing her. It lasted longer than any brotherly peck they'd shared before, and was far softer yet more decisive than his awkward attempt in Afra.

 

Even now, with Tamir safe in his arms, Ki kept reliving that awful moment when he was so certain he wasn't going to reach her in time. Over and over again, in his imagination, he felt what it would have been like if she'd died. His own tears earlier had shamed him, but this sudden impulsive kiss did not. He wanted to do it, and she was responding. So was his body.

 

Tamir. This is Tamir, not Tobin, he told himself, but he still couldn't quite believe what he was doing.

 

When it ended they stared at each other, wide-eyed and unsure, and she gave him a hesitant smile.

 

It did something to him Ki couldn't explain, and he kissed her again, lingering a little longer over it this time. His chin bumped the cut on hers and he tried to pull back, but the arm across his chest tightened and he felt her leaning into him. He buried his fingers in her hair, snagging a braid. She flinched as it pulled, then chuckled.

 

At the sound of it, he felt like something that had been dammed tight in his heart let go at last. He combed his fingers through her hair more confidently, then stroked his way down to her waist. She was still fully clothed, wearing the dress she'd put on for Nari at supper. The skirt had ridden up a little. He could feel her bare leg warm against his through his breeches. No, this wasn't any boy in his arms. It was Tamir, as warm and different from his own body as any girl he'd ever bedded. His heart beat faster as he deepened the kiss and felt her eager response.

 

Tamir felt the difference in Ki's touch and the unmistakable press of his arousal against her thigh. Unsure what she wanted or where this would lead, but determined nonetheless, she took his hand and pressed it to her left breast. He cupped it gently through her bodice, then tugged the lacings and chemise aside and slipped his fingers inside to caress her bare skin. Rough and warm, his fingertips found the scar between her breasts and traced it lightly, then brushed across a nipple. He'd never touched Tobin like that. It sent warmth spiraling down through her to blossom into a new sensation between her legs.

 

So this is what it's like? she thought as he kissed his way down to her throat and bit her gently on the side of the neck. She caught her breath and her eyes widened as the feeling between her legs flared stronger. Just as before, she could still feel the phantom shape of her male body, but with something much deeper, in places only a woman had. If she had both bodies at once, male and female, then both were awakened by Ki's hands and lips against her skin.

 

It was too much, too unsettling, that dual sensation. She pulled back a little, heart pounding, her traitorous body at once yearning and afraid. "Ki, I don't know if I can—"

 

He withdrew his hand and stroked her cheek. He was breathless, too, but smiling. "It's all right. I'm not asking for that now."

 

That? Bilairy's balk, he thought I meant fucking! she realized with dismay. Of course he did. That's what he does with girls.

 

"Tamir?" He gently urged her head down on his chest and held her tight. "It's all right. I don't want to think about anything but you being here right now, alive and well. If you'd—died tonight, like that?" His voice went husky again. "I couldn't have stood it!" He fell silent a moment and his arms tightened around her. "I was never scared like this for you in battle. What do you suppose that means?"

 

She found his hand with her own and clasped it. "That no matter what, we're both still warriors, before all else?" Somehow, that was comforting. At least in this, she still knew who she was.

 

She could still feel the hardness against her thigh, but Ki seemed content just to lie next to her, as they used to. Without thinking, she shifted her leg a little to get a better sense of his body.

 

It's bigger than what I had, she thought, then froze as Ki let out a soft sigh and shifted a little against her.

 

Arkoniel sat in the doorway of his workroom, gaze fixed on the tower door, and wondered if he dared leave long enough to fetch Tharin. He ached here and there from his tumble down the stairs and his ears were still ringing from the spell he'd cast to seal the door.

 

No, he decided. He'd stay until dawn, then go down and make certain the others didn't worry at finding Tamir's bed empty.

 

And what will I do if Ariani does come looking for her child again?

 

It had been Ki who'd saved Tamir, not him. He'd only driven the ghost off after Ki had her safe.

 

Blessed Lightbearer, what was your purpose, putting that into her mind? You couldn't mean for her to die, so what was it you were trying to show her? Why open up those old wounds now?

 

His bruised limbs were beginning to stiffen. He stood and paced the corridor, pausing a moment outside the bedchamber door. All was quiet inside. He reached for the latch, thinking to check on them, then drew it back. He stood there a moment longer, debating, and cast a wizard eye instead.

 

Ki and Tamir were fast asleep, wrapped in each other's, arms like lovers.

 

Lovers?

 

Arkoniel took a closer look. They were both still dressed as they had been, but he could make out the faint smiles they both wore in sleep. Ki had a smear of dried blood on his chin that matched nicely with the cut on Tamir's chin.

 

Arkoniel dispersed the spell and turned away smiling. Not yet, but there's been a change. Perhaps some good will come out of this night, after all.

 

________________________________________

 

Chapter 39

 

  

 

 

 

Ki had intended to get Tamir downstairs to her own bed before anyone noticed they were gone, but instead he fell asleep, and woke just after dawn with Tamir still in his arms. She didn't stir when he tilted his head back to see if she was asleep.

 

Her face was half-hidden behind a fall of black hair. The cut on her chin was scabbed over, the area around it bruised and a little swollen. She'd have a new scar there, to show for last night's adventure.

 

Even in daylight, Ki felt a chill as he thought of the spirit haunting the tower room. He'd never met Ariani in life. Last night he'd seen no sign of the woman Arkoniel described, only a vengeful specter. He unconsciously tightened his arm around Tamir's shoulders.

 

"Ki?" She gazed sleepily at him for a moment, then gasped and sat up, taking in the fact that they were still in bed together. The lacings of her bodice were still undone, showing the swell of a breast.

 

Ki looked hastily away. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stay all night."

 

He started to untangle himself from the bedclothes, but the way she colored and looked away made him stop. He stroked the hair back from her cheek, then leaned in and kissed her on the mouth again, the way he had last night. He did it as much to reassure himself as her, and was glad it still felt right in daylight. Her hand came up to cradle his cheek and he felt her relax against him. Blue eyes met brown and widened in unspoken acknowledgment. "I'm sorry about Afra," he said.

 

She closed a hand over his on the comforter. "I'm sorry about last night. I just hoped—Well, I suppose I'll have to try again. But I'm not sorry about—" She waved a hand at the rumpled bed.

 

"Neither am I. First decent night's sleep I've had in months."

 

She grinned, then threw back the covers and got up. Ki had another glimpse of those long bare legs before her skirt fell into place. She was still very slender and coltish, but those were girl's legs now, the muscle subtly rounder on the long bones, though just as taut. How could he not have seen it before?

 

She turned and caught him staring. "You look like you swallowed a fish bone."

 

Ki climbed out of bed and went to her, looking her over again, as if he'd never seen her properly before. She was just a handspan shorter than he was.

 

She raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

 

"Nari's right. You have gotten prettier."

 

"So have you." She licked her thumb and rubbed at the dried blood on his chin. Then she ran a finger over his sparse moustache. "This makes my lip itch when you kiss me."

 

"You're the queen. You can ban beards if you want."

 

She considered this, then kissed him again. "No, I think I might get used to it. We don't want anyone saying that all my court turned into girls along with me."

 

Ki nodded, then voiced the question hanging between them. "What now?"

 

She shrugged. "I can't take a consort until I'm sixteen, but that's scarcely two months away." She stopped, blushing hotly as she realized what she'd said. "Oh, Ki! I don't mean to—That is—"

 

He shrugged and scratched nervously at the back of his neck. Marriage was too big a thing to contemplate right now. Her eyes still held a question. He took her face between his hands and kissed her again. It was chaste, as kisses went in his experience, but his body warmed to it and he could tell by the way her eyes fluttered closed that she felt it, too.

 

Before he could think of anything to say, Arkoniel knocked and came in. They jumped back from each other with a guilty start.

 

Arkoniel grinned. "Ah, good, you're awake. Nari was a bit frantic, finding your bed empty—"

 

Nari pushed past him and gave the two of them a narrow look. "What have you two been up to?"

 

"Nothing you need upset yourself over," Arkoniel assured her.

 

But Nari was still frowning. "It won't do, her getting a big belly so young. She hasn't the hips for it yet. You ought to know better, Ki, even if she doesn't!"

 

"I suppose you have a point," said Arkoniel, looking like he was trying not to laugh.

 

"I didn't do anything like that!" Ki objected.

 

"We didn't!" Tamir exclaimed, blushing scarlet.

 

Nari shook a finger at Tamir. "Well, see you don't, not before you know how to keep from catching. I don't suppose anyone's even shown you how to make a pessary yet?"

 

"There's been no need," said the wizard.

 

"Fools, the lot of you! Any girl who has her moon times ought to know that. Out, you men, and leave me to have a proper chat with my girl."

 

She all but pushed Ki and Arkoniel from the room and shut the door after them.

 

"I know what a pessary is!" Ki grumbled. His sisters and the servant women had sat around the fire, making the little hanks of wool and ribbon and soaking them in sweet oil. With the whole household sleeping all but on top of one another, there'd been no mystery as to their use either. If a girl didn't want a baby, she put one up her cunny before she bedded her man. The thought of Tamir in that light still left him feeling very odd. "I only kissed her. I wouldn't touch her like that!"

 

Arkoniel chuckled and said nothing.

 

Scowling, Ki folded his arms and settled himself to wait for Tamir.

 

She emerged at last, looking a bit pale. Nari leveled an accusing finger at Ki. "You just keep your trousers laced!"

 

"I will, damn it!" he called after her as she stomped off downstairs. "Tamir, are you all right?"

 

She still looked a little stunned. "Yes. But I think I'd rather go into battle naked than have a baby, if all Nari says is true." She shivered, then straightened up and glanced over at the tower door. "Is it locked?"

 

Arkoniel nodded. "I'll open it, if you like."

 

"I have to try one more time. You two can come up with me."

 

"Just try and stop us," Ki told her, not meaning it as a joke.

 

Arkoniel touched the door and it swung open. "Let me go first and remove the ward from the upper door."

 

Ki followed close behind Tamir as she climbed the stairs, and was surprised at how ordinary it all looked in daylight. Dust motes glinted in the shafts of early-morning light, and he could smell the sweetness of balsam on the breeze that stirred through the arrow slits.

 

More brightness greeted them as Arkoniel opened the door to Ariani's room, but Ki stayed close beside Tamir and scanned every corner suspiciously. The shutters on the west window were still open and Ki could hear the sound of the river below, and the calls of birds in the forest.

 

Tamir stood in the middle of the room and turned slowly around. "She's not here," she said at last, looking more forlorn than relieved.

 

"No," Arkoniel agreed. "I've felt her presence often at night, but never in daylight."

 

"I see Brother all the time, day or night."

 

"He's a different sort of spirit." Tamir went to the window. Ki followed, unwilling to trust in Arkoniel's appraisal of ghosts. For all he knew, that bloodied nightmare could come rushing out of nowhere at any moment. Ghosts were always unlucky things, or so he'd been taught, and those who haunted Tamir gave truth to the saying.

 

"What do I do?" Tamir wondered aloud.

 

"Perhaps nothing," Arkoniel replied.

 

"Why did the Oracle send me back, then?"

 

"Some things can't be mended, Tamir."

 

"What about Lhel?" asked Ki. "We haven't even looked for her yet. She could always put Brother in his place. Come on, Tamir, let's ride up the road, like we used to."

 

Tamir brightened at once and made for the door. "Of course! I bet she's waiting for us, like always."

 

"Wait." Arkoniel called after them.

 

Ki turned to find Arkoniel regarding them sorrowfully.

 

"She's not here anymore."

 

"How do you know that?" asked Tamir. "You know how she is. If she doesn't want to be found, then you can't, and if she does, she's right there waiting for you, every time."

 

"I thought the same, until—" Arkoniel paused, and Ki read the truth in his face before he even said it. "She's dead, Tamir. The Oracle told me."

 

"Dead?" Tamir sank slowly to her knees among scattered bits of yellowed wool. "But how?"

 

"If I were to guess, I'd say Brother was responsible. I'm sorry. I should have told you, but you already had so much to contend with."

 

"Dead." Tamir shivered and buried her face in her hands. "Another one. More blood!"

 

Ki knelt and put an arm around her, blinking back tears of his own. "I thought—I thought she'd always be there waiting for us in that hollow tree of hers."

 

"So did I," Arkoniel agreed sadly. Tamir raised a hand to the hidden scar on her chest. "I want to look for her. I want to bury her. It's only right."

 

"Have a bite to eat and change your clothes," Arkoniel advised.

 

Tamir nodded and turned to go.

 

"Hold on," said Ki. He ran his fingers through her disheveled hair. "That's better, eh?" he said, straightening his own rumpled tunic. "No sense giving them too much to gossip about."

 

Chat was easier said than done. As Tamir went to her chamber to change, she noticed Lynx and Nikides watching her from their open doorway. Tamir didn't think she or Ki gave anything away, but they took one look and turned away with knowing smiles.

 

"Damn it!" she muttered, mortified.

 

"I'll talk to them." Ki gave her a rueful look and went off to deal with their friends.

 

Tamir shook her head as she closed her own door, wondering what he'd say. She wasn't entirely sure herself what had happened between them, but she somehow felt lighter, and more hopeful, even with her sorrow over Lhel.

 

Whatever Ki told them, no one asked any questions.

 

As soon as they could slip away she, Ki, and Arkoniel set off up the old mountain road.

 

At would have been a pleasant ride if not for the sad knowledge they carried. The sun was bright and the forest showed early splashes of yellow and crimson.

 

Ki spotted the faint hint of a trail half a mile on from the keep. Leaving their horses tethered, they followed it on foot.

 

"It could just be a game trail," he noted.

 

"No, there's her mark," Arkoniel said, pointing out a faded, rust-colored mark on the white trunk of a birch. Looking closer, Ki saw that it was a handprint, much smaller than his own. "That's from her hiding spell," Arkoniel explained, touching it sadly. "The power of it died with her."

 

The faded traces of more handprints guided them along a faint path winding through the trees and up a slope to the clearing.

 

At first glance nothing had changed. The deerskin flap still covered the low doorway at the base of the huge hollow oak. Beyond it, the spring roiled silently in its round pool.

 

As he approached the tree, however, Ki saw that the ashes in the fire pit were old, and her wooden drying racks were empty and in need of repair. Tamir pushed the deerskin aside and disappeared inside. Ki and Arkoniel followed.

 

Animals had been in here. Lhel's baskets were scattered and gnawed, the dried fruit and meat long gone. Her few implements still lay on low shelves, and her pallet of furs was undisturbed.

 

What remained of Lhel was there, as if she'd lain down to sleep and never wakened again. Animals and insects had done their work. The shapeless dress with its deer tooth beading was torn and pulled awry, exposing the bare bones beneath. Only her hair remained, a dark tumble of black curls framing the eyeless skull.

 

Arkoniel sank down with a groan and wept quietly. Tamir remained silent, shedding no tears. The empty look in her eyes as she silently turned and went outside troubled Ki.

 

He found her standing by the spring.

 

"She showed me my true face here," she whispered, staring down at her shifting reflection in the water. Ki was tempted to put an arm around her, but she stepped away, still lost and empty. "The ground is hard and we have nothing to dig with. We should have brought a spade."

 

There was nothing among Lhel's meager possessions that would serve, either. Arkoniel found her silver knife and needle and tucked them into his belt. The rest they left, and piled stones in front of the doorway, making her home her tomb. Arkoniel cast a spell on the stones so that they would not fall away.

 

Through it all Tamir did not weep. When they were finished with the stones she pressed a hand to the oak's gnarled trunk, as if communing with the spirit of the woman immured inside.

 

"There's nothing more to be done here," she said at last. "We'd better get on to Atyion."

 

Ki and the wizard exchanged a sad look and followed, letting her alone with her silent grief.

 

She's seen too much of death already, Ki thought. And we still have a war ahead of us.

 

________________________________________

 

Chapter 40

 

  

 

 

 

The pain of Lhel's death, compounded with the knowledge of the role she'd played in Brother's death, was too black and deep to give voice to. Tamir left those feelings behind with the witch's bones, taking away only a numb sense of shock and loss.

 

There was no reason to stay, and the keep was once again a place with too many bad memories. They left that same day.

 

Nari and Cook kissed her and Ki both over and over again, then wept in their aprons when they finally departed. As she rode along the river, Tamir turned and looked up at the tower window one last time. The broken shutter on the east window was still hanging by one twisted hinge. She saw no face in the opening, but she swore she felt eyes on her back until they rode into the cover of the trees.

 

I'm sorry, Mother. Perhaps another time.

 

Ki leaned over and touched her arm. "Let it go. You did what you could. Arkoniel's right. Some things can't be mended."

 

Perhaps he was right, but she still felt she'd failed.

 

They rode hard that day and slept wrapped in their cloaks that night. Lying there among the others, Tamir touched the bruise on her chin, letting her thoughts stray back to Ki and the way it had felt to kiss him and fall asleep in his arms.

 

He lay within arm's reach, but she couldn't touch him. As she was about to turn over he opened his eyes and smiled.

 

It was almost as good as a kiss.

 

She wondered what they'd do when they were in the castle again, under so many watchful eyes.

 

When they were in half a day's ride of the town, Tamir sent Lynx and Tyrien ahead with news of her safe return. By the time they came in sight of Atyion early that evening, the city was brightly lit with torches and lanterns, and a great crowd had assembled along the main street, eager to hear the Oracle's words to their queen. Illardi met her on horseback at the town gate, dressed in the robe and chain of his office. Kaliya, head priestess of the Illioran temple of Atyion, and Imonus were with him.

 

"Majesty, did the Oracle speak to you?" Imonus inquired.

 

"Yes, she did," she replied, loud enough to be heard by those gathered around the small square there.

 

"If it please Your Majesty, will you share it with us, in the temple square?" asked Kaliya.

 

Tamir nodded and led her entourage toward the square of the Four. Illardi leaned closer in the saddle. "I have news for you, Majesty. That young fellow of Arkoniel's—Eyoli—he sent word a few days ago by pigeon from Cirna. Korin is preparing to move against you. It seems he finally got his new wife with child."

 

"Is he on the march?" asked Tharin.

 

"Not by today's report, but from what your wizards were able to show us of the encampments, they are nearly ready."

 

"I'll speak with Eyoli as soon as we're finished here," Arkoniel murmured.

 

Tamir's heart sank, though she was hardly surprised. "Give him my thanks. And send word to Gedre and Bokthersa. The emissaries should be home by now, Lord Chancellor, and I'll speak with you and my generate—" "Tomorrow's soon enough, Majesty. You're weary, I can tell. Rest tonight. I've already begun preparations."

 

People thronged the steps of the four temples, and more stood on the roofs, eager to hear the first official prophecy of her reign.

 

Still in the saddle, she took out the scroll Ralinus had given her. "These are the words of Illior, given to me by the Oracle of Afra."

 

She'd been amazed when she'd read it in Afra. She hadn't told Ralinus what the Oracle had actually said, word for word. Yet what he'd written was nearly the same.

 

"Hear the words of the Oracle, people of Skala." Her voice sounded thin and high in the open air, and it was a strain to speak so loudly but she pressed on." 'Hail, Queen Tamir, daughter of Ariani, daughter of Agnalain, trueborn scion of Skala's royal line. By blood you were protected and by blood will you rule. You are a seed, watered with blood, Tamir of Skala. By blood and trial, you will hold your throne. From the Usurper's hand you will wrest the Sword. Before you and behind you lies a river of blood, bearing Skala to the west. There will you build a new city, to my honor.'"

 

A stunned silence greeted her words.

 

"Prince Korin calls himself king in Cirna and is massing an army against me," she went on. "I've sent him messages, asking him to give up his claim and be honored as my kinsman. His only answer has been silence. Now I'm told that he means to march on Atyion with an army at his back. As much as it grieves me, I will heed the words of the Oracle, and the visions given to me. I am your queen, and I will put down this rebellion against the throne. Will you follow me?"

 

The people cheered and waved swords and colored banners in the air. The acclaim warmed her, lifting some of the darkness from her heart. Korin had made his decision. Now she must act on hers, no matter how painful the outcome.

 

Her duty done, Tamir gave the scroll to Kaliya to be displayed in the temple and copied and read out across the land by heralds.

 

"That went well," Ki noted as they rode on for the castle.

 

"The people love you, and they'll fight to keep you," said Tharin.

 

Tamir said nothing, thinking of all the blood the Oracle had shown her. She could already feel it staining her hands.

 

They made their way through the barbican and found Lytia and most of the castle household waiting for her in the castle yard. "Welcome back, Majesty," Lytia greeted her as Tamir dismounted and stretched her stiffened legs.

 

"Thank you. I hope you didn't go to the trouble of a feast. I just want a bath and my bed."

 

Some of the other wizards and children were there, as well.

 

"Where is Mistress Iya?" asked Rala.

 

Tamir heard, and wondered what Arkoniel would tell them, and if they'd stay. For now, though, he evaded the questions as he drew them away, already asking for reports on Korin.

 

Tamir left him to it and strode up the steps, anxious to relax in private before the court duties descended on her. She hadn't missed those at all.

 

Lytia accompanied her and the Companions upstairs. As Tamir reached her chamber door, Lytia touched her sleeve and murmured, "A word in private, Majesty? It's rather important."

 

Tamir nodded for her to follow, leaving the others outside.

 

Baldus was curled up in a chair with Ringtail on his lap. He pushed the cat off and jumped up to bow. "Welcome back, Queen Tamir! Shall I light the fire for you?"

 

"No, go tell the bath servants I want a tub. And make it a hot one!"

 

Baldus dashed out, happy to have his mistress back. Tamir wondered fleetingly what he did when she wasn't around to wait on. She unbuckled her sword and tossed it on the abandoned chair, then began struggling with the buckles on her breastplate. The cat wound around her ankles, purring roughly and nearly tripping her.

 

Lytia shooed him away and took over the task. Tamir pulled off her hauberk and draped it on its rack, then flopped back on the bed, unmindful of her dirty boots. Ringtail leaped onto the bed and curled up on her chest. "Bilairy's balls, that's better!" She ruffled his thick fur. "Now, what is it you wanted to tell me?"

 

"Majesty, some of the other Companions arrived in your absence. They've had a hard journey—"

 

"Una? Is she hurt?" Tamir sat up in alarm. Ringtail hissed and darted away.

 

"No Majesty. It's Lord Caliel, Lord Lutha, and his squire. I've settled them in one of the guesting chambers in this tower."

 

Tamir jumped to her feet again, happy beyond words at the news. "Thank the Four! Why weren't they down to greet me? The others will be thrilled to see them."

 

"I think perhaps you and Lord Ki might wish to see them alone first. There's someone else with them."

 

"Who?" she asked, already at the door.

 

The other Companions were waiting outside. Lytia glanced their way, then said softly, "I'll tell you on the way upstairs."

 

Puzzled, Tamir nodded. "Ki, you come with me. The rest of you wait here."

 

Lytia led the way to another corridor on the far side of the tower. Pausing moment, she whispered, "The stranger with them? Well, he's apparently one of the hill folk, Majesty. Lord Lutha claims he's a witch."

 

"A witch?" Tamir exchanged a startled look with Ki.

 

"That's why I thought you should come up without too many other eyes," Lytia hastened to explain. "Please forgive me if I've done wrong letting such a creature in, but the others wouldn't be parted from him. I had to put them all under guard. Fortunately they came in at night, and only a few of the servants and guards saw them. None of them will talk. I have their oaths on it until you've had your say."

 

"Does this man admit to being a witch?" asked Tamir.

 

"Oh yes. He makes no secret of it. He was dreadfully filthy when they first arrived-—well, they all were, poor lads—and he strikes me as a simpleminded fellow, but the others vouched for him and claim he helped them. They've been cruelly used."

 

"By whom?"

 

"They wouldn't say."

 

Four armed men were on guard outside the guest room, and old Vornus and Lyan were sitting on a bench just across from the door, wands across their knees, as if expecting trouble at any moment. They stood and bowed as she approached.

 

"Can you tell me what's going on?" Tamir asked them.

 

"We've been keeping watch on your unusual guest," Vornus replied. "Thus far he's behaved himself."

 

"We've felt no magic from him at all," Lyan added, tucking her wand up her sleeve. "Your people seem terrified, but I've sensed no harm in him."

 

"Thank you for your vigilance. Please continue to keep watch for now."

 

The guards stepped aside, and Tamir knocked at the door.

 

It swung open and there stood Lutha, barefoot and dressed in a long shirt over a pair of breeches. He was thin and pale, and his braids had been cut off, but the look on his face as he recognized Tamir was almost comical. Across the room, Caliel lay on his stomach on a large bed, with Barieus hunched over in a chair beside him. Both stared at her as if they'd seen a ghost.

 

Lutha gasped. "By the Four! Tobin?"

 

"It's Tamir, now," Ki told him.

 

A tense pause followed, then Lutha broke into a tearful grin. "So it's true! Bilairy's balls, we've been hearing rumors ever since we left Ero, but Korin wouldn't believe it." He wiped at his eyes. "I don't know what to say, except that I'm damn glad to see you both alive!"

 

"What happened to you?"

 

"Come in first and let the others see you properly."

 

He led the way to the bed, and Tamir noted how stiffly he moved, as if in pain.

 

Caliel pushed himself up with a grimace as she and Ki approached. Barieus rose slowly and gave her an uncertain smile, wonder and confusion warring in his eyes.

 

"Yes, it's Tobin," Ki assured him. "But she's Queen Tamir now."

 

Barieus looked from Tamir to Ki. "Have you two been fighting? Tamir—your chin? Ki, what happened to your cheek?"

 

"I fell, and Ki was bitten by a dragon. We both were, actually."

 

"A dragon?"

 

"Just a small one," Ki told him.

 

Lutha laughed. "We've missed a lot, it seems."

 

It was good to see him smile, but the way they all held themselves, together with Lytia's comment, sent a pang of foreboding through her. All three were missing their braids.

 

"How?" Caliel asked, staring at her in consternation. His handsome face was mottled with fading bruises, and his eyes were haunted.

 

With a sigh, Tamir quickly sketched out the details of the change and watched their eyes go wide. "I know it sounds like something out of a bard's tale, but I saw her change with my own eyes, right here in Atyion, along with about a thousand other people," Ki told them.

 

"Now, tell me what happened to you three," Tamir urged.

 

Lutha and Barieus turned their backs and lifted their shirts. Caliel hesitated, then slowly did the same.

 

"Bilairy's balls!" gasped Ki.

 

Barieus' and Lutha's backs were crosshatched with half-healed lash marks, but Caliel must have been whipped raw. His skin was a mass of scabs and angry red scar tissue from neck to waist.

 

Tamir's throat went dry. "Korin?"

 

Lutha lowered his shirt and helped Caliel pull his back down. All of them looked ashamed as Lutha haltingly told Tamir of their time at Cirna and how her letter to Korin had been received.

 

"We'd only had the word of Niryn's spies about you, and we didn't trust them," Caliel explained. "I wanted to go see for myself, but Korin said no."

 

"And you went anyway," Tamir said.

 

Caliel nodded.

 

"Niryn had his spies watching us," Lutha said bitterly. "You remember Moriel, who wanted Ki's place as your squire so badly?"

 

"The Toad? Of course," muttered Ki. "Don't tell me he's still with Korin?"

 

"He's Niryn's hound now, and he watched every move we made for his master," Caliel said.

 

"Oh, my friends!" Tamir whispered, deeply touched by their faith in her. "So, what do you say, now that you've seen me?"

 

Caliel regarded her for a moment, and that haunted look returned. "Well, you don't seem mad. I'm still trying to figure out the rest of it." He looked to Ki. "I don't suppose you'd go along with this if it was necromancy?" "No necromancy. Retha'noi binding," a low, amused voice broke in.

 

Tamir had been so alarmed by the condition of her friends that she'd forgotten all about the hill witch. As he rose from a pallet in the corner and came forward, she saw that he was dressed more like a Skalan peasant farmer, but there was no mistaking what he was.

 

"This is Mahti," said Lutha. "Before you get angry, you should know that he's the reason we got here at all."

 

"I'm not angry," Tamir murmured, studying the man with interest. He was small and dark like Lhel, with the same olive skin and long, black curls in wild disarray around his shoulders, and the same rough, stained bare feet. He wore a necklace and bracelets strung with animal teeth, and held a long, elaborately decorated horn of some sort.

 

He came closer and smiled broadly at her. "Lhel tell me come to you, girl who was boy. You know Lhel, yes?"

 

"Yes. When did you last see her?"

 

"Night before today. She says you come."

 

Ki frowned and stepped closer to Tamir. "That's not possible."

 

Mahti eyed Tamir knowingly. "You know dead not stop coming if they want. She tell me of your noro'shesh, too. You have eyes that see."

 

"He's talking ghosts?" muttered Barieus. "He never said anything about that to us. He just kept claiming he'd seen us in a vision or something and that he was supposed to come with us."

 

"You be scared." Mahti chuckled, then pointed to Tamir. "She not be scared."

 

"How did you first meet her?" Tamir asked.

 

"She come in vision. Dead when I know her."

 

"He never said anything about anyone named Lhel, either. Who is she?" asked Lutha.

 

"It's all right. I think I understand." The witch nodded sadly. "Lhel is loving you. She tells all the time for me to come to you."

 

"Her ghost told you, you mean?" Ki asked.

 

Mahti nodded. "Her mari come to me when I make dream with oo'lu."

 

"That's what he calls that horn of his," said Barieus. "He does magic with it, like a wizard."

 

"Korin sent trackers and a wizard after us, but Mahti played that horn and not one of them saw us, though we were standing in plain sight in the road," Lutha explained.

 

"He's a good healer with it and his herbs, too. Good as a drysian," added Barieus. "And he knew a shortcut way through the mountains, too."

 

"I wouldn't have lived to get here if it wasn't for him," said Caliel. "Whatever else you might say of him, he took good care of us."

 

"Thank you for helping my friends, Mahti," Tamir said, holding out her hand. "I know how dangerous it is for you to come this far into our lands."

 

Mahti touched her hand lightly and chuckled again. "No danger for me. Mother Shek'met protect and Lhel be guide."

 

"Even so, I'll make certain you have safe passage back to your hills."

 

"I come to you, girl who was boy. I come to help."

 

"Help me do what?"

 

"I help as Lhel help. Maybe with your noro'shesh? That one still no sleep."

 

"No, he doesn't."

 

"What's he talking about?" asked Lutha.

 

Tamir shook her head wearily. "I suppose I'd better tell you everything."

 

She pulled a chair up by the bed, and Ki and Lutha sat carefully on the edge of the bed beside Caliel. As she told them what she knew, Mahti hunkered down on the floor and listened intently, his brow furrowed as he tried to follow her words. "Your brother was killed so you could take his form?" Caliel said when she'd finished. "Isn't that necromancy?"

 

Mahti shook his head vehemently. "Lhel make mistake making baby die. Not should have—" He paused, searching for the word, then took a deep breath, pointing at his chest. "Lhel tells you this?"

 

"Lhel never told me how he died. I only heard the truth a few days ago, from some wizards who were there."

 

"Iya?" asked Caliel.

 

"Yes."

 

"Not breath. First breath. Brings mari into—" Mahti hesitated again, then pinched the skin on the back of his hand.

 

"Into the body?" asked Ki, touching his chest.

 

"Body? Yes. No breath in body, no life. No mari to be make like him. Bad thing. No breath for body, mari have no home."

 

"Mari must mean spirit," mused Ki.

 

"I mean no offense, Tob—Tamir, but perhaps he doesn't understand what necromancy is," Caliel warned. "Who else controls ghosts and demons, but a necromancer?"

 

"No necromancy!" Mahti insisted indignantly. "You Skalan, you no understand Retha'noi!" He held up the horn again. "No necromancy. Good magic. Help you, yes?"

 

"Yes," Caliel admitted.

 

"Why would he help us if he's evil, Cal?" Lutha insisted, and it sounded to Tamir like they'd had this debate before. "Tamir, couldn't that friend of yours, Mistress Iya, tell if he's that sort or not?"

 

"Iya isn't with me anymore, but I have others to advise me. Ki, send for Arkoniel. He knows more about Mahti's people than anyone else."

 

Caliel waited until Ki was gone, then said, "I should tell you, Tamir, that I am not here by my own will. When I tried to come to you before, it was to parley on Korin's behalf. He's my friend and my liege. The oath I swore to him as a Companion is one I won't break. I don't mean you any harm, but I won't dishonor myself by accepting your hospitality under false pretenses. I'm no spy, but I'm no turncoat, either."

 

"No, you're a damn fool!" Lutha growled. "Korin's the one who's mad. You saw it as clearly as I did, even before he had you flogged half to death." He turned to Tamir, eyes flashing with outrage. "He was going to hang us all! You can call me traitor if you want, but I'm here because I think Korin's wrong. I loved him, too, but he broke his oath to us and to Skala when he let himself become the puppet of a creature like Niryn. I can't dishonor my father's name any longer, serving in such a court."

 

"He's bespelled," Caliel muttered, resting his face in his hands.

 

Ki returned and settled on the bed again, looking at Caliel with concern.

 

"He's got Korin seeing traitors in every shadow," Lutha went on. "All anyone has to do is disagree with him and they're likely to end up at the end of a rope."

 

"How did you get away?" asked Ki.

 

"It was your spy, Tamir. A fellow calling himself Eyoli? I don't know how he managed it, but he got us out."

 

"He's a wizard," Ki told him.

 

"I thought it might be something like that."

 

"How is it in Cirna now?" Tamir asked.

 

"There's grumbling among the ranks. Some don't hold with Niryn's ways. Others are losing patience with Korin just sulking there in Cirna. He's sent some forces to put down nobles who've taken your side, but his generals want him to come after you."

 

"He is," Tamir told him. "I just had word of it."

 

Caliel looked up at that. "With respect, I don't want to be here for this. I'm sorry, Tamir. I can't be party to any talk against Korin. I—I should go back. Sakor knows, I don't want to fight against you, but my place is there."

 

"He'll hang you, sure as I'm sitting here!" Lutha ex- claimed. "For hell's sake, we didn't drag you all the way here for you to just turn around and go looking for your death!" He turned to Tamir and Ki. "This is what he's been like. He won't listen to reason!"

 

"You should have left me, then," Caliel snapped.

 

"Maybe we should have!"

 

"Please, don't fight!" Tamir reached out and took Caliel's hand. He was trembling with emotion. "You're in no condition to go anywhere. Rest here until you're stronger. Honor the laws of hospitality, and I'll still call you friend."

 

"Of course. I give you my oath."

 

She turned to the witch, who'd been watching all this with evident interest. "And you. Will you swear by your great Mother to do no harm in my house, to any of my people?"

 

Mahti gripped his horn in both hands. "By the full moon of Mother Shek'met, and by the mari of Lhel, I come only to help you. I do no harm."

 

"I accept your pledge. You're under my protection. All of you are." She looked sadly at her friends. "I won't keep any of you here against your will, or expect you to serve me as you did Korin. As soon as you're strong enough to ride, I'll give you safe conduct anywhere you want to go."

 

"I don't think you've really changed at all, no matter what you're calling yourself," Lutha said, smiling. "If you'll have me, Queen Tamir, I'll serve you."

 

"And you, Barieus?"

 

"Yes." His fingers stole to the cropped hair at his temple as he added, "If you'll have me."

 

"Of course I will."

 

"What about you, Cal?" Ki asked.

 

Caliel only shrugged and looked away.

 

Arkoniel came in, then stopped dead as he caught sight of Mahti.

 

The witch eyed him with equal interest. "Oreskiri?"

 

"Retha'noi?" Mahti nodded and touched his heart, then replied at length in his own language.

 

The two of them conversed for several minutes. Tamir recognized the word for "child" and Lhel's name but nothing else. Arkoniel nodded sadly at the mention of the dead woman, then continued with his questioning. He took Mahti's hand but the witch quickly pulled away and shook an accusing finger at him.

 

"What's he saying?" asked Tamir.

 

Arkoniel gave her a guilty nod. "My apologies. It was just something Lhel taught me, but it was rude."

 

Mahti nodded, then handed Arkoniel his oo'lu horn to examine.

 

Satisfied, he turned back to Tamir and the others. "He claims Lhel's spirit came to him in a vision, asking him to come and protect you. She's been his guide and led him to your friends as they made their way here."

 

"So he said. What do you think?"

 

"I can't imagine a hill witch coming all this way without good reason. They've never been the sort to send assassins. I must warn you, though, that he can kill with his magic and has done so, but only in self-defense, or so he claims. You must either take him at his word or send him away. I'd like to keep him among the wizards for now if you have no objection?"

 

"Very well. I'll come down when I'm done here."

 

Arkoniel held out his hand to Mahti. "Come, my friend. You and I have much to talk about."

 

"Lutha, you and Barieus are free to join the other Companions," said Tamir when they were gone.

 

"Who's left?" asked Lutha.

 

"Nikides—"

 

"Nik's alive?" Lutha exclaimed. "Thank Sakor! I thought I'd left him to die. Who else?"

 

"Just Lynx and Tanil. We have some new members, though."

 

"Tanil?" Caliel gasped. "Can we see them now?" asked Barieus, brightening noticeably at the mention of Lynx.

 

"Of course. Ki, go fetch them, will you?"

 

"What about Tanil?" asked Ki.

 

"Him, too. I'll explain while you're gone."

 

Ki nodded and strode out.

 

"What about Tanil?" Caliel demanded.

 

"The Plenimarans weren't gentle with him." She told them all of it, wishing she could spare them the details, but it would be plain enough when they saw him.

 

Caliel groaned and closed his eyes.

 

"Oh, hell," Lutha muttered.

 

Ki soon returned with the other Companions. Nikides stopped just inside the doorway, staring at Lutha and Barieus.

 

"I—can you forgive me?" Lutha said at last, voice trembling with emotion.

 

Nikides burst into tears and embraced them both.

 

Lynx had his arm around Tanil and was speaking quietly to him. The moment the squire saw Caliel, however, he pulled away and ran to him.

 

"I've lost Korin!" he whispered, tears welling in his eyes as he knelt by the bed. "I don't know what to do, Cal. I can't find him!"

 

Caliel reached for his hand and touched the red, raised scars on his wrist. "You didn't lose him. We lost you. Korin's been very sad, thinking you were dead."

 

"Really?" He stood up at once, looking around the room. "Where is he?"

 

"He's at Cirna."

 

"I'll go saddle our horses!"

 

"No, not yet." Caliel drew him back.

 

"It's all right. I'm sure Korin won't mind," said Lynx. "He'll want you to look after Cal, won't he?"

 

"But—Mylirin?"

 

"He's dead," Caliel told him. "Dead?" Tanil looked at him blankly for a moment, then buried his face in his hands and began to weep softly.

 

"He fell honorably." Caliel drew him down on the bed and held him. "Will you take his place as my squire until we go back to Korin?"

 

"I—I'm not worthy to be a Companion anymore."

 

"Of course you are. And you'll earn those braids back, as soon as we're both well again. Won't he, Tamir?"

 

"Yes. The healers did a fine job. For now, your duty is to Caliel."

 

Tanil wiped at his eyes. "I'm sorry about Mylirin, but I'm glad to see you again, Caliel. Korin will be so pleased that you weren't lost, too!"

 

Caliel shared a sad look with Tamir. For now, they would let Tanil cling to his hopes.

 

They talked for a while, catching up on both sides, then left Tanil with Caliel and went back to Nikides' room.

 

"Cal isn't going to change his mind, you know," Lutha told her as they made their way to the Companions' chamber. "If he hadn't been so badly hurt, he really would have gone back."

 

"He'll do what he must. I won't stop him."

 

Tharin was there with the young squires and clasped hands happily with Lutha and Barieus. Tamir stayed with them a little while longer, then rose to go. Ki rose to follow, but she smiled and motioned for him to stay.

 

She paused in the doorway, gladdened beyond words to see her friends together again. Even if Caliel couldn't join them, at least he was alive.

 

________________________________________

 

Chapter 41

 

  

 

 

 

Arkoniel took the hill witch down to his chamber by back passages and servants' stairs. The few people they met paid the stranger little mind, accustomed to Arkoniel bringing strays of all sorts into the castle.

 

His room was by far the most luxurious he'd ever had, with finely carved old furnishings and bright hangings. The rest of the wizards were housed in similar chambers on this small courtyard. Tamir, in keeping with her promise, had granted them a generous allowance from her treasury and given them space in the castle to train and teach.

 

Wythnir was where Arkoniel had left him, curled up in the deep embrasure of a window, watching the other children play outside in the twilight. He hopped down at once as Arkoniel and Mahti entered, staring up at Mahti with apparent interest and none of his usual shyness, much to Arkoniel's surprise.

 

"You're a witch, aren't you, just like Mistress Lhel? She told me that men could be witches, too."

 

Mahti smiled down at the boy. "Yes, keesa."

 

"She was very nice to us. She showed us how to find food in the forest and kept people from finding us."

 

"You be oreskiri, little one? I feel magic in you." Mahti squinted his eyes a little. "Ah, yes. Little piece Retha'noi magic here, too."

 

"Lhel taught the children and some of the older wizards a few small spells. I think you'll find most of my people more welcoming toward you, thanks to her."

 

"I make magic by this." He held the oo'lu out to Wythnir, encouraging the boy to hold it. Wythnir glanced at Arkoniel for reassurance, then accepted it, stooping a little under its weight.

 

"This little one does not fear me," Mahti remarked in his own language, watching Wythnir fit his small hand into the burned palm print near the oo'lu's end. "Maybe you and he can teach others not to fear my people and to share magic with us, as Lhel did."

 

 

"That would be a good thing for all. Tell me, where do you come from?"

 

"The western mountains. I would not have found my way here if not for Lhel and my visions."

 

"Very strange, indeed."

 

"You speak my language very well, Oreska. It's easier for me, and I can make myself clear."

 

"As you wish. Wythnir, go out and play with your friends while there's still some daylight. I'm sure they missed you while we were gone."

 

The child hesitated, then dropped his gaze and started for the door.

 

"He is frightened to be parted from you," Mahti observed. "Why not let him stay? He doesn't understand my language, does he? Even if he did, I have nothing to say that a child may not hear."

 

"Wythnir, you may stay if you like." Arkoniel seated himself by the hearth and Wythnir sat down at once by his feet, hands folded in his lap.

 

"He-is obedient and intelligent, that child," Mahti said approvingly. "He will be a strong oreskiri, if you can heal the fear in him. He has been hurt deeply."

 

"It often happens to children born into poverty or ignorance with the power. He won't speak of his past, though, and the wizard who had him before doesn't seem to know much about him."

 

"You are good to him. He loves you as a father."

 

Arkoniel smiled. "It's best so, between master and apprentice. He's a very good boy."

 

Mahti settled on the floor facing them, his oo'lu across his knees. "I saw you in my vision, Arkoniel. Lhel loved you in life, and loves you still. She shared much of her magic with you, so she must have trusted you, too."

 

"I'd like to think so."

 

"That is not against the ways of your people, to use our magic?"

 

"There are many who say so, but my teacher and I disagreed. Iya sought her out specifically because she could make the kind of binding spell that would protect Tamir. I remember that when we found her, she was not surprised to see us. She said she'd seen us in a vision, too."

 

"Yes. Her manner of hiding the girl was a harsh one, though. Your mistress, she understood that it would require the death of the boy child?"

 

"Those were desperate times, and she saw no other way. Lhel was good to Tamir, watching over her without our knowledge for some time."

 

"She was lonely, until you came to her bed. But you could not fill her belly."

 

"If it had been possible, I'd have gladly done that for her. It's different with your people, isn't it?"

 

Mahti chuckled. "I have many children, and all of them will be witches. It's how we keep our people strong in their mountains. We must be very strong, to still be alive after the southlanders drove us away."

 

"They fear your kind, and your magic. Neither our wizards nor our priests can kill so easily as you."

 

"Or heal as well," Mahti pointed out.

 

"So, why are you here? To finish Lhel's work?"

 

"The Mother marked me for long traveling." He stroked a hand down the length of his oo'lu to the black, hand-shaped mark near the end. "My first vision of my traveling time was of Lhel, standing with that girl, and you. That was in the quarter of melting snows, and all this time since, I've been coming to find you."

 

"I see. But why does your goddess want her witches to help us?" Mahti gave him a wry smile. "For many years your people have treated my people like animals, hunting us down and chasing us away from our sacred places by the sea. I, too, have said often to the Mother, 'Why help our oppressors?' Her answer is this girl, and perhaps you yourself. You both honored Lhel, and were her friends. Tamir-Who-Was-A-Boy greeted me with an open hand, and made me welcome, even as I saw others in this great house make signs and spit on the floor. This queen of yours, she might make her people treat the Retha'noi better."

 

"I believe she will, if she can. She has a kind heart and yearns for peace."

 

"And you? You take our magic and do not call it necromancy. That boy upstairs was wrong. I know what necromancy is: an unclean magic. The Retha'noi are not an unclean people."

 

"Lhel taught me that." It still shamed him, how they'd underestimated the woman at first. "But it's difficult for most Skalans to perceive the difference, because you also use blood and control the dead."

 

"You can teach others the truth. I will help you if you will keep them from killing me first."

 

"I'll try. Now, about what you said to Tamir; can you make her demon twin go away?"

 

Mahti shrugged. "It wasn't my magic that made him, and he is more than just a ghost. Demon souls like those are difficult to make magic on. Sometimes it's better just to let them alone."

 

"Tamir is haunted by another ghost, that of her mother, who took her own life. She's very strong and very angry. She's one who can touch the living, and seeks to hurt them."

 

"Spirits like that are for women's magic to deal with. That's why your mistress sought out a woman witch rather than a man. We deal mostly with the living. Is the ghost in this house?"

 

"No. She haunts the place where she died."

 

Mahti shrugged. "That is her choice. I am here for the girl."

 

There was a knock at the door, and Tamir came in. "Pardon me for interrupting, Arkoniel, but Melissandra said you two were in here."

 

"Please, come in," said Arkoniel.

 

She sat down by Arkoniel and gazed at the witch a moment in silence. "Lhel came to you, as a ghost."

 

"Yes."

 

"She sent you specially to find me?"

 

Arkoniel translated that, and Mahti nodded.

 

"Why?"

 

Mahti glanced at Arkoniel, then shrugged. "To help you, so you not hurt Retha'noi."

 

"I have no intention of hurting your people, as long as they remain peaceful toward mine." She paused and her eyes grew sad. "Do you know how Lhel died?"

 

"She not tell me. But she is not angry spirit. Peaceful."

 

Tamir smiled a little at that. "I'm glad."

 

"We were just discussing what brought Mahti here," said Arkoniel. "He's from somewhere in the western mountains."

 

"West? How far west?"

 

"Almost to the Osiat, apparently."

 

She went to the witch and knelt in front of him. "I have visions, too, and dreams of the west. Can you help me with those?"

 

"I try. What you see?"

 

"Arkoniel, do you have anything to draw with?"

 

The wizard went to a table covered in magical paraphernalia and fished around in the mess until he found a lump of chalk. He guessed what she was thinking, but it seemed rather improbable.

 

Tamir cleared away some of the rushes strewn over the floor and began drawing on the stone paving beneath. "I see a place, and I know it's on the western coast below Cirna. There's a deep harbor guarded by two islands, like this." She drew them. "And a very high cliff above it. That's where I'm standing in the dream. And if I look back, I can see open country and mountains in the distance."

 

"How far away mountains?" asked Mahti.

 

"I'm not sure. Maybe a day's ride?"

 

"And this?" He pointed to the blank floor beyond the little ovals she'd drawn for islands. "This is western sea?" Mahti stared down at the map, chewing at a hangnail. "I know this place."

 

"You can tell, just from this?" asked Arkoniel.

 

"I not lie. I have been to this place. I show."

 

He brought his fist up in front of his face, closed his eyes, and began to mutter to himself. Arkoniel felt the prickle of magic gathering even before the pattern of intricate black lines appeared on the witch's hands and face. He recognized the spell.

 

Mahti blew into his fist and made a ring with his thumb and forefinger. A disk of light took shape, and then grew as he framed it with his other hand and drew it larger, to the size of a platter. They could hear the call of seabirds through it and hear the wash of the tide.

 

"Master, he knows your window spell!" Wythnir exclaimed softly.

 

Through the window lay a view from atop a high cliff overlooking the sea just as Tamir had described. It was dark already here in Atyion, but there the setting sun still cast a coppery trail across the waves under a cloudy sky. The ground at the top of the cliff was broken and overgrown with long grass. Huge flocks of gulls sailed against the orange sky. Their cries filled Arkoniel's room. He half expected to smell the sea breeze and feel it against his face.

 

Mahti moved slightly and the view changed with dizzying swiftness, so that they were looking over the edge to a deep harbor far below.

 

"That's it!" Tamir exclaimed softly, and Arkoniel had to catch her by the arm to keep her from leaning too close to the aperture. "Maybe this is why Lhel brought you to me, rather than someone else."

 

"Remoni, we call it," Mahti told her. "Mean 'good water.' Good to drink, out of the ground."

 

"Springs?"

 

Arkoniel interpreted and Mahti nodded. "Many springs. Much good water."

 

"Look, see how there's enough land at the base of the cliffs for a town?" said Tamir. "A citadel on the cliffs above would be impossible to attack the way Ero was. Where is this place, Mahti? Is it near Cirna?"

 

"I don't know your seer-na."

 

Arkoniel cast a window spell of his own, showing him the fortress at Cirna, on its narrow strip of ground.

 

"I know this place! I came close by it when I was looking for Caliel and his friends," he explained in his own language, leaving Arkoniel to translate for Tamir. "But I saw the great house in a vision, too. Caliel and the others came from there. There's evil living in that house, and great sadness, too."

 

"How far is Remoni from there?"

 

"Three, maybe four days' long walk? You southlanders don't go there, to Remoni. We still have sacred places by this sea. Boats come into the protected water behind the islands sometimes, when people come to fish, but no one lives there. Why does she want to go there?"

 

"What's he saying?" Tamir asked.

 

Arkoniel explained.

 

"It might be only two days, riding hard," she mused. "Tell him I'm going to build a new city there. Will he guide me?"

 

Arkoniel translated, but Mahti was rubbing his eyes now, as if they hurt him. "Need sleep. I go there." He pointed out the window at the garden. "Too many time in this house. Need sky, and the ground."

 

"But there's so much I want to know!" "Let him rest a while," Arkoniel said, sensing that Mahti had some reason for not answering her. "You should rest, too, and be ready to speak with your generals."

 

As she turned to go, Mahti looked up and tapped himself on the chest. "You have pain. Here."

 

"Pain? No."

 

"Where Lhel make magic bind to you, there is pain," he insisted, looking at her very intently as his hand stole to his long horn again. "I make dream song for you. Take away some pain."

 

Tamir hastily shook her head. "No! It's healed. There's no pain."

 

Mahti frowned and went back to his language. "Oreskiri, tell her Lhel's magic is not broken yet. She had no witch to help her cut the spell. There are still threads that bind them. That is why her brother demon still comes to her."

 

"I'll try to explain to her," Arkoniel replied. "She doesn't trust magic very much, though. The only magic she knew as a child was hurtful or frightening. That fear still haunts her, even with everything else she's seen. She doesn't like it practiced on her, even for her benefit."

 

Mahti looked thoughtfully at Tamir, who was regarding him more warily. "She cannot be completely herself until she is freed of these last threads, but I will not without her consent."

 

"Give her time."

 

"What's he saying?" Tamir asked, looking from one to the other.

 

Arkoniel walked her out to the corridor. "You're still bound to Brother somehow."

 

"I figured that much out for myself."

 

"Mahti is quite concerned about it."

 

She stopped and folded her arms. "You trust him already?"

 

"I think so, yes."

 

For just an instant she looked unsure, as if there was something she wanted to say, but instead, she just shook her head. "I've had enough of that magic. I'm a girl now. That's enough. I can deal with Brother."

 

Arkoniel sighed inwardly. Even if he could have forced her, he would not.

 

Returning to his room, he found Wythnir and Mahti sitting on the floor together. Wythnir had one hand extended, a silvery orb hovering over his open palm.

 

"Look what Master Mahti showed me how to do," the boy said, eyes fixed on the orb.

 

Arkoniel knelt beside them, caught between curiosity and protectiveness. "What is this?"

 

"Only water," Mahti assured him. "It's one of the first spells witch children learn, for fun."

 

Wythnir lost his grip On the spell and the orb of water fell, splattering his hand and knees.

 

Mahti ruffled his hair. "Good magic, little keesa. Something to teach your friends."

 

"May I, Master?"

 

"Tomorrow. It's time for you to go say good night to them. I must make our guest comfortable."

 

Che moon was almost full. Mahti sat down on the damp grass near a rosebush, savoring its sweetness and the good smells of earth and air. Arkoniel had sent all the south-landers from the garden so he could be alone here under the sky. He was grateful for the solitude. Being confined in a room so far above the ground for so many days had been difficult. The unhappiness and fear of the three south-landers he'd cared for had filled the room like a fog.

 

Lutha and Barieus were happy now that they'd spoken to Tamir. He was glad for them; they'd treated him well from the first. The older one, Caliel, was darker in his mind, and not only because of his fear of Mahti. He carried a deep hurt in his soul. The betrayal of a friend was a bad wound to carry, and very hard to heal. Mahti had mended Caliel's bones and played the poisons away as they tried to gather, but his heart stayed dark. It was the same with the one named Tanil. Mahti saw at a glance what had been done to him. He wasn't sure even he could help that one.

 

And then there was Tamir. She was hurt very deeply, but she did not feel the wounds. When he'd looked at her from the corner of his eye, he could see the black tendrils still issuing from the place where Lhel had made her binding. Tamir's spirit was still bound to the noro'shesh, and that tie kept her from healing completely into her new form. She was a young woman, certainly, but some vestige of her old self held on. He could see it in the hollowness of her cheeks and the angular lines of her body.

 

He tilted his head back and filled his eyes with the white moon. "I have seen her now, Mother Shek'met. Did I come all this way just to finish the magic of Lhel and heal her? She does not want that. What must I do, so that I can go home again?"

 

Holding these questions in his mind, he raised the oo'lu to his lips and began the prayer song. The pregnant moon filled him and lent him her power.

 

Pictures began to form behind his eyelids and after a time his brows drew down in surprise. He played the song to its end, and when he was finished he looked up at the moon's pale face again and shook his head. "Your will is strange, Mother, but I will do my best."

 

What do you think of them, my girl and my oreskiri? Lhel whispered to him from the shadows.

 

"They miss you," he whispered back, and felt her sadness. "Do they hold you here?"

 

I stay for them. When all is finished, I will rest. You will do as the Mother has shown you?

 

"If I can, but our people will not welcome her."

 

"You must make them see her as I do."

 

"Will I see you anymore, now that I've found her?"

 

He felt an invisible caress, then she was gone.

 

A man stirred in the shadows by the courtyard door. Arkoniel had come into the garden while he was dreaming. Without a word, the oreskiri disappeared back inside.

 

There was great pain there, too.

 

Mahti laid his horn aside and stretched out on the grass to sleep. He would do as the Mother required, then he would go home. It was tiring, being with these stubborn southlanders who would not ask for help when they needed it.

 

Arkoniel sat by his window, watching Mahti sleep. He looked very peaceful there on the bare ground, head pillowed on his arm.

 

Arkoniel's heart was in turmoil. He'd heard Lhel's voice, smelled her scent on the air. He understood why she had gone to Mahti, but why had she never come to him?

 

"Master?" Wythnir asked sleepily from his bed.

 

"It's all right, child. Go back to sleep."

 

Instead, he came to Arkoniel and climbed into his lap. Curling up there, he tucked his head under Arkoniel's chin.

 

"Don't be sad, Master," he murmured, already half-asleep. By the time Arkoniel recovered from his amazement the boy was fast asleep.

 

Touched by this innocent affection, Arkoniel sat there for some time, just holding him, the sleeping child's trust a reminder of the work that lay ahead.

 

Tamir found the reunited Companions in Nikides' chamber. Lutha and Barieus were stretched out on their bellies across the wide bed. Ki and Tharin sat on the edge beside them, and made room for Tamir between them. The rest were sprawled in chairs or on the floor. Ki was telling Lutha and Barieus about the dragon they'd seen in Afra. "Show them your mark," he said as Tamir came in.

 

She held out her finger.

 

"I wish we'd been with you," Barieus exclaimed enviously. "Next time you will be," she promised. "Tell me more about Korin. Is there any chance he can be reasoned with?"

 

Lutha shook his head. "I don't think he can ever forgive you, Tamir."

 

"And now he'll have an heir," said Ki. "All the more reason for him to fight."

 

"Lady Nalia's with child? Well, I don't wonder," Lutha muttered, coloring a little. "Korin was trying hard enough. I guess it finally took."

 

"What do you know of her?" asked Tamir.

 

"Almost nothing, beyond what Korin said. He keeps her shut up in the tower most of the time. She was always pleasant to us when we did see her, though."

 

"Is it true she's ugly?" asked Ki.

 

"More like plain, with a big pink birthmark on her face and neck." Barieus traced a pattern on his own cheek. "Sort of like that one on your arm, Tamir."

 

"What else can you tell me, now that we're away from Cal?" she asked.

 

Lutha sighed. "Now I do feel like a spy. Korin's gathered a sizable force—riders, men-at-arms, some ships, mostly from the northern holdings and the mainland territories. He's sent out some raids against those loyal to you."

 

"I've been doing the same."

 

"I know," Lutha replied. "It galled him no end, along with the reports of your second victory against the Plenimarans. I don't know if it's Niryn's influence, or just Korin's own jealousy, but now that he is ready to move, I don't think he'll settle for anything less than an all-out fight."

 

"Then that's what he's going to get. We've only got a few good months left before winter closes in. Tharin, ask Lytia to have a complete inventory of supplies ready for my audience tomorrow morning. I need to know how long a siege we could withstand here, if it comes to that. Send out runners to all the camps and heralds to all the lords who've gone back to their holdings north of here. I mean to march as soon as possible."

 

"With your own Companions at your side," Ki said. "At least those of us who are fit," he added with an apologetic look at Lutha.

 

"We're fit enough!" Lutha assured him.

 

Looking around at the fierce smiling faces of her friends, Tamir wondered how many more would be lost before this was over?

 

Thoughts of war fled for a moment, however, as she and Ki walked back to their rooms. Reaching his own door, Ki paused, looking uncertain. Tamir realized he was waiting for her to say where he would sleep.

 

She hesitated, too, all too aware of the guards posted nearby.

 

Ki glanced their way and sighed. "Well, good night."

 

Later, as Tamir lay alone in her great bed with Ringtail curled up and purring under her chin, she traced her lips with a finger, remembering their kisses only a few nights ago.

 

I'm queen. If I want to sleep with him, I can! she told herself, but blushed at the thought. It had been easy when they were both so scared, so far from court. Maybe Ki even regretted it?

 

She shook off the thought, but a hint of doubt remained. Now that they were back among the others, he was acting as he always had.

 

And so am I. And this is no time to be thinking of love! Nari's stern talk had given her other things to consider, too. That sort of love led to babies if you weren't careful. Nari had given her a jar of pessaries, just in case.

 

In case—

 

As much as she longed for Ki, the thought of actually coupling scared her more than she liked to admit. If she used this body like that, it was the final admission that she was a girl—no, a woman—in every sense.

 

All the same, the bed felt too big and lonely, especially knowing that Ki was so close by. She fingered the healing cut on her chin. She didn't mind if it left a scar. Every time she saw it in the mirror, it would remind her of him, and what it had felt like, lying beside him in their old bed at the keep. She traced slowly down her throat to her chest, thinking of his fingers taking the same path.

 

As her fingers brushed the scar, however, it brought back what the witch had said. What had he meant? The wound was healed. It didn't hurt at all.

 

She hugged the cat closer, wishing his soft fur was Ki's hair or skin. For the first time in her life, she wondered what it would be like between the two of them if she was an ordinary girl, with no dark secrets or great fate, and neither of them had ever seen Ero at all.

 

"If wishes were meat, then beggars would eat," she whispered into the darkness. She was what she was, and there was no changing that.

 

When she slept at last, however, it was not Ki she dreamed of, but battle. She saw that rocky place again, and Korin's red banner coming ever closer.

 

________________________________________

 

Chapter 42

 

  

 

 

 

Tamir rose early the next morning, better rested than she'd expected. Having finally accepted the path she must take, she was eager to move. If this was the only way she could meet with Korin, then so be it.

 

With Una still gone, she had the luxury of dressing herself, with only a little help from Baldus. She put on the necklace and bracelet the Aurenfaie had given her, and was combing her hair when Ki knocked. Baldus let him in. She turned with the comb in her hand to find him staring at her. "What's wrong?"

 

"Umm—nothing," he replied, going to the armor rack. "Do you want your cuirass?"

 

"Yes," she replied, puzzled at his odd demeanor.

 

He helped her into the burnished breastplate and fastened the buckles on the side.

 

"There. Do I look like a warrior queen?" Tamir asked them, wrapping her sword belt around her hips.

 

"You do."

 

There it was again, that strange look of uncertainty on Ki's face.

 

"Baldus, go and fetch the rest of the Companions and Lord Tharin. Tell them I'm ready for the audience."

 

The page ran off to carry out her order.

 

"Did Lutha and the others sleep well?" she asked.

 

"Yes."

 

"I don't suppose Caliel has changed his mind?"

 

"No. But Tanil is better than he has been. He slept with Cal last night and won't be parted from him. Caliel seems a little better, too." "Perhaps there's hope for them both."

 

"I'm taking Lutha and Barieus to look for a swordsmith later. They're absolutely determined to ride with you." Ki reached behind her to free a lock of hair trapped under the cuirass, then ran a thumb lightly across the cut on her chin. "You're a sight, but it's healing."

 

They were standing very close, almost touching. On impulse, she touched the dragon bite on his cheek. "You, too."

 

"It doesn't hurt anymore." He kept his gaze on her chin, fingers just brushing her cheek. It sent a little shiver down her arms and Tamir caught her breath as the feelings that had awakened that night at the keep came flooding back—pleasure, and with it the confused sensation of having two bodies at once.

 

That didn't stop her from leaning closer and kissing Ki lightly on the mouth. He kissed her back very gently, cupping her cheek. Tamir slid her fingers into the warm, soft hair at the nape of his neck and her body went hot and cold at once. Emboldened, she put her arms around him but her cuirass knocked the wind out of him and made him laugh.

 

"Gently, Majesty! Your humble squire needs those ribs."

 

"My liegeman, Lord Kirothieus," she corrected with a chuckle, embracing him more gently, seeing her own wonder mirrored in the depths of his dark brown eyes. The ache between her legs grew stronger, and confusion began to give way to something else.

 

She was about to kiss him again but the sound of the door opening made them jump apart, blushing guiltily.

 

Nikides stood in the doorway, looking amused. "Tharin, Master Arkoniel, and the witch are here. Shall I send them in?"

 

"Of course." Tamir brushed her hair back, feeling to see if her cheeks were hot. Ki retreated to the armor rack, trying to hide his own embarrassment as he pretended to check her mail.

 

Nikides' grin widened as he took his leave. Arkoniel took no notice of their state as he hurried in with a large scroll tucked under his arm, with the others close behind.

 

Mahti was dressed like a minor noble. His hair was combed and pulled back in a bushy queue and the barbaric jewelry was gone. He'd left his horn behind, as well, Tamir noted, guessing this was Arkoniel's doing. Mahti did not seem to be very pleased about it. He was not smiling.

 

"Mahti has something to tell you," said Arkoniel, looking rather excited.

 

"I have vision for you," the witch told her. "I show you a way to west."

 

"To that harbor, you mean? Remoni?" Tamir asked.

 

"You will be go west. My goddess says so."

 

"And you saw this road in a vision?"

 

He shook his head. "I know road. But the Mother say I bring you there." He looked even less happy now. "Is hidden way, forbid to those outside the people. This my help for you."

 

Baffled, Tamir gave Arkoniel and Tharin a questioning look. "That's all very interesting, but right now I'm more concerned with—"

 

"Ah, but I think this may be of use." Tharin took the scroll from Arkoniel and unrolled it on the bed. It was a map of northern Skala and the isthmus. "Korin will most likely come straight at you here by the coastal route. From what Lutha has said, he doesn't have enough ships to bring his whole army by sea. The route Mahti is talking about seems to go here, through the mountains." He traced a finger just south and west of Colath. "That would bring you out here, near your harbor. From there you're within easy striking distance to either cut Korin off on the isthmus, or come at him from behind as he heads east."

 

"It's a trail that the Retha'noi keep hidden with the same magic Lhel used to hide her camp," Arkoniel explained. "They have many villages along it, and won't welcome outsiders, but Mahti claims he can take you that way without harm."

 

Tamir stared down at the map, heart beating a little faster. Was this what the Oracle had tried to show her? Is this what all her dreams of the place had been leading to?

 

"Yes, I see," she said faintly. It felt like she'd been inhaling the Illiorans' smoke again.

 

"Are you all right?" Ki asked.

 

"Yes." She took a deep breath, wondering what was wrong with her. "I attack from the west, perhaps even surprise him if he thinks I'm still here readying for a siege."

 

She looked up at Mahti. "Why would you do this?"

 

"You will give word to make peace to the Retha'noi. You will not kill us again. We be free to leave mountains."

 

"I'll gladly try, but I can't promise to change things overnight. Arkoniel, make him understand. I want to do what he asks, but it won't be easy, changing people's minds."

 

"I told him that, but he's convinced you can help. A better understanding between our two peoples will work in your favor, too."

 

"It will be hard to bring supplies through the mountains," said Tharin. "This isn't a proper road."

 

"The Gedre could meet us with supplies," Arkoniel pointed out. "Their ships are swift. They could probably reach Remoni harbor by the time we do."

 

"Contact them at once," Tamir ordered. "And the Bokthersans, too. Solun seemed eager to help."

 

"Didn't he, though?" muttered Ki.

 

Word of her plan spread quickly. The audience chamber was packed by the time Tamir entered. Her generals and their captains stood closest to the dais, but there were others, too—courtiers, common soldiers, townspeople—crowded in between the pillars, all talking excitedly.

 

She ascended the dais, and the Companions took their places behind her. Lutha and Barieus stood with them, pale but proud in their borrowed clothes.

 

Tamir drew her sword, feeling the momentous import of what she was about to do. "My lords, generals, and my good people, I come before you to formally declare that I, by the will of Illior, will march against Prince Korin to secure my throne and unite our divided land."

 

"Three cheers for our good queen!" Lord Jorvai shouted, raising his sword in the air.

 

The cry was taken up, and the cheering went on until Illardi banged the floor with his staff of office and got their attention again.

 

"Thank you. Let the heralds carry word across Skala. All who fight with me are my friends and true Skalans." She paused, then added, "And all who oppose me shall be called traitor and stripped of their lands. May Illior give us the strength to make our victory swift and the wisdom to be just. Lord Chancellor Illardi, I charge you now to oversee the levy of warriors and supplies. Steward Lytia, you will oversee the sutlers and baggage wagons. I mean to march before the week is out. All captains are to return to their companies and begin preparations at once."

 

Leaving the court to its excitement, Tamir retired to the map room with her generals and Companions. Arkoniel was waiting there with Mahti and his principal wizards, Saruel, Malkanus, Vornus, and Lyan.

 

The Companions took their places around the table, but Jorvai and some of the other nobles paused, eyeing the hill witch uneasily.

 

"What's the meaning of this, Majesty?" he asked.

 

"This man is responsible for the safe return of my friends, and he is under my protection. I've been aided by his kind before, and have come to respect their magic. I charge you all to do the same." "With all due respect, Majesty, how do you know it's not some kind of trick?" Nyanis asked.

 

"I've read his heart," Arkoniel replied. "Some of the queen's other wizards have, as well. He speaks the truth, and was guided to Queen Tamir's aid by visions, just as we were."

 

"This man is a friend of the Crown," Tamir said firmly. "You will accept my judgment in this. I hereby declare peace between Skala and the hill people, the Retha'noi. From this day forth no Skalan will offer them any violence, unless attacked. That is my will."

 

There was some grumbling and wary looks, but everyone bowed in obedience.

 

"That's settled, then." Tamir proceeded to her plan to outflank Korin, using Arkoniel's map and several others spread out on the great table.

 

"I have spoken with the Khirnari of Gedre," Arkoniel told them. "He knows the harbor and will send supply ships and archers. He's also relayed word to Bokthersa. With any luck, they'll be there to meet us."

 

"That will be a fine trick, if Korin isn't already halfway to Atyion by the time we get through," said Jorvai. "If he gets word that you've left here, he'll come for Atyion all the faster. The granaries and treasury would be fine plums for him if he could capture them, not to mention the castle itself. I daresay he's been stretched thin, holed up in Cirna all these months."

 

"It's true he needs gold," said Lutha.

 

"That's why I won't risk leaving Atyion undefended," Tamir replied. "I'm going to keep two battalions of the Atyion garrison here as a holding force. If Korin does come this far, he'll have to fight his way through. That will slow him long enough for me to catch up." Tamir ran a finger up the eastern coast. "The Atyion army can come at Korin from the south. I hope to draw him west instead, but he could divide and attack us on both coasts." She paused, turning to Tharin. "Lord Tharin, I name you as marshal of the eastern defenses. Arkoniel, choose among your wizards those who can best help him here."

 

Tharin's eyes widened, and she knew he was on the verge of arguing with her. Only the presence of the others stopped him, which is why she'd made up her mind to broach the subject here rather than in private. She put a hand on his shoulder. "You're an Atyion man. The warriors know and respect you."

 

"After Queen Tamir herself, there's no one else better respected among the ranks," Jorvai agreed.

 

"You also know the nobles who hold land between here and Cirna better than anyone else among my generals," Tamir added. "If you do march north, you might be able to raise more fighters as you go."

 

"As you wish, Majesty," Tharin said, though it was clear he was not at all happy.

 

"You're not breaking your oath to my father," she said gently. "He wanted you to protect me. At the moment, this is the best way you can do that."

 

"It's a risk, splitting your army. By all reports Korin outnumbers you nearly three to one," Nyanis pointed out.

 

"I can move faster with a smaller force. Mahti's route will save us days." She turned to the witch. "Can we take horses through there?"

 

"The way small in places. In other, hard walking up."

 

"The Retha'noi don't use horses. They carry everything on their backs," Arkoniel told her.

 

"Then we must do the same, and hope the 'faie arrive in good time." Tamir frowned down at the map for a moment, then looked up at her lords. "What do you advise?"

 

"I'd say rely on men-at-arms and archers, for the greater bulk of your force, Majesty," Kyman replied. "You'll want horses for reconnoitering, but the fewer we have to find forage for on the way, the better."

 

"You could also use what ships you have at Ero," Illardi suggested.

 

"They wouldn't reach us in time to do much good. Keep them here and use them to defend Atyion and Ero. Illardi, you'll oversee the ships. Jorvai, Kyman, Nyanis: you are my marshals."