The Sending

by Isobelle Carmody

  I fell into a deep sleep, and after a time, a dream came to me of a winter morning years before, when I wakened to find a multitude of paw prints circling my camping place. Gahltha had been with me, and he had told me that the tracks had been left by gehdra, which was the name beasts gave wolves who called themselves the Brildane. He had also told me that the wolves had a great hatred of humans and I had wondered why they had not eaten us when they came to prowl about the camp at night. I had suggested beastspeaking them, but Gahltha had advised against it.

  His exact words rose up from my memory.

  ‘The gehdra do not think like any other beast. Speaking to them would not stop them from eating us if that were their desire. Better to do nothing. With the gehdra, that is always safest.’

  I slipped from the memory into a past-dream in which the Beforetimer Cassy stood in a darkened lane between what appeared to be rows of enormous Beforetime machines with a young woman with strange spiked hair and mutinous eyes. I recognised her as one of the Beforetime Misfits who had been imprisoned at the Govamen compound in Scotia. I had seen her once when I had followed her probe back from Cassy’s mind, when she had invaded the mind of the Beforetime teknoguilder Doktaruth, while Cassy had distracted the older woman with questions. They had been trying to learn something about Sentinel. Obviously they were allies, but even now when they stood close together talking softly and casting wary glances over their shoulders, it seemed to me there was little warmth between them. Their manner was urgent but not intimate.

  Unfortunately I could not hear their words because the machines around them were giving off a great rhythmic thudding and thumping, broken by an occasional explosive hiss or the discordant shriek of metal on metal. I wondered how they could bear it.

  Then abruptly the noise stopped and I heard the girl with the spiked hair say clearly that a key had been made, which they might acquire if they had the guts and wit for it. Then she froze, for her words had fallen loudly into the sudden silence. I wondered why they did not use their Talents to keep watch, if they feared to be overheard. Cassandra gestured impatiently for the other girl to go on. It was a secret, the other continued in a whisper. She had stumbled upon it in the mind of a Gadfian man who had been speaking with a Govamen official. He had bribed the official on behalf of someone else to make the key, but the official wanted more money. The risk was too high. If the Gadfian wanted a key that would give him access to Sentinel, then he would have to pay more, much more, and he was waiting to have an opportunity to say as much, when no one could overhear them.

  ‘Has the key been made yet?’ Cassy asked.

  My heart began to pound for they must be speaking of Cassandra’s key. This was obviously the moment that Cassy had learned of its existence, and clearly she had got hold of it, for she had sent it to Hannah. I was desperate to hear more, but the loud rhythmic thudding had resumed and once again I could hear nothing of their words. I was about to try to enter Cassy’s mind, where I would be able to listen to the mental echo of their spoken conversation, but both girls turned as one, their expressions alarmed and guilty, and I realised someone had come upon them. Before I could see who it was, the dream ended.

  I would have woken, but before I could will it, I found myself standing in the circular entrance hall at Obernewtyn, looking at the Empath guildmaster. From his dusty attire and the elated crowd about him, it was clear that Dameon had just arrived. His pale skin had the slightest tan and he looked very fit, though there were dark circles under his eyes. I approached him and his head snapped round as it had always done when I came near, and for a moment his blind eyes seemed to look directly into mine.

  I was utterly surprised to see hostility in them. It was not an expression I had ever seen on the empath’s face when he looked at me. Almost from the first moment I had met him, I had regarded Dameon as a friend, and he had become very dear to me over the years. He had never let me down; never looked at me with anything but affection and kindness, save once when he had become angry with me because he thought I believed that Rushton had ceased to love me.

  But the expression was replaced by one of familiar affection as the empath reached out to lay one warm hand on my shoulder, offering me the other to shake and saying that he regretted having missed my investiture.

  Confused, I shook his hand – it had always been our custom to embrace – but when I glanced down I was shocked to see that the hands clasped were those of two men. I looked up again and sought out my reflection in Dameon’s eyes. It was Rushton’s.

  I opened my mouth but the words came out in Rushton’s voice with a trace of highland burr, and they were his words. ‘It is good to see you, my friend, but I have some news you will like no more than I do. Elspeth has vanished.’

  ‘When?’ Dameon asked.

  ‘Before darkmoon eve,’ Rushton said. ‘There was so much going on because of the moon fair and the shire-making, and all the preparations for the Red Land expedition. I knew she had ridden out but I assumed she would return. On darkmoon eve I rode down with Brydda to Sawlney to help Dardelan trap some rats, and then I came straight back to Obernewtyn for the opening of the moon fair and the chieftain investiture. Only when she did not return for the ceremony did I truly begin to worry.’

  ‘I heard about the business in Sawlney from Bruna,’ Dameon said. ‘It is just as well that Jude and his treacherous band were taken, and no doubt Brocade is relieved, for all his bluster. But no one spoke of Elspeth going missing. Bruna said you told her she had gone to see Swallow in the White Valley.’

  ‘That is what I thought, but Swallow said that neither he nor any of his people had seen her since she rode down one morning at dawn to meet his sister at the watch hut. Elspeth initiated the meeting and it seems she was trying to find out if the Twentyfamilies had any information about the Red Land, because their ancestors had travelled there. But Swallow said Elspeth went back to Obernewtyn after they parted, and it is true, for I saw her myself after that.’ He scowled. ‘I would have searched harder, sooner, but I had … asked her something that I thought might have angered or frightened her, and I did not want her to feel pressed for an answer.’

  I saw pity in Dameon’s expression. ‘I see,’ he said.

  Rushton sighed. ‘You see too much for your own good, my friend. Indeed, you are the last person I ought to burden with this, but I had to tell you. And that is not the end of the bad news either. Did Dardelan tell you Angina had died?’

  Dameon nodded and now his face was sad. ‘He did. What of Miky?’

  ‘She looked like following her brother, but she has rallied since. I think it is Darius’s doing. He was with them both when Angina died. I don’t know what he did exactly, but somehow he used Rasial and Hannay and gradually Miky improved.’

  ‘She is awake?’

  ‘Yesterday. She knew Angina was gone. Roland said she told him that she dreamed that her brother bade her goodbye and told her to live a long full life and have children enough for the both of them.’

  ‘I will go up to the Healing Hall directly,’ Dameon said.

  ‘I would come with you but I am just on my way to see Maryon, to ask if she has any idea where Elspeth has gone. The most likely thing is that she has gone looking for Dragon. You heard nothing of the girl in the west?’

  ‘She was there – Dell futuretold it – but no one saw her, so we must suppose she used her Talents to prevent it. Merret and Blyss have promised to find her, if she is in the west, but Dell seemed to think she came back this side of the river.’

  ‘Yet no one has seen her. You know what she is, of course?’

  ‘Merret told me and everyone at Oldhaven knows it. At first I was truly astonished, but I have become accustomed to thinking of her as the heir to the Red Land. Dardelan said she is to travel with the expedition.’

  Rushton nodded. ‘She will be able to rouse her people so that they can overthrow the slavemasters, thereby averting this invasion all the futuretellers have been seeing. Once I learned who s
he was, I understood how four ships might free the Redlanders. But Elspeth was worried about finding her in time and no doubt she made up her mind to see if she could locate her. Now they are both missing. My hope is that they will go directly to the ships. They must travel with us, given that the future-tellers saw them together in the Red Land. With luck, Maryon will know something of their whereabouts.’

  ‘When do you leave?’ asked Dameon.

  ‘Tomorrow morning at dawn and I will ride straight through,’ Rushton said. ‘I meant to go yesterday but …’ He shrugged and I understood that he had delayed in the hope that I would return.

  This caused a twist of such anguish that it severed me from the dream. As I drifted towards consciousness, I decided that the only explanation for the strange dream was that I had been sharing one of Rushton’s dream-memories. It had never happened before, but perhaps it was a side effect of the golden link between us. Yet how could anything pass along the spirit link when Rushton must already be at sea and bound for the Red Land? I had lost track of the days, but there was no doubt that the expedition had departed. It must be that both of us had been touching on the dreamtrails. Certainly I had communicated with Matthew over a far greater distance than I could have farsought or sent a probe, because we had met in spirit form on the dreamtrails. The fact that I had experienced a past-dream of Cassy meant that I had drifted very close to the mindstream as I slept, and it was possible I had taken on an unconscious spirit-form and had drifted to the dreamtrails. But Rushton had never possessed the ability to dreamtravel. The only way he could have managed it was to have been rendered deeply unconscious. The thought that he might have been hurt was so alarming that it brought me awake. As always it was hard to hold onto what I had dreamed and thought in the moments after waking, unless I concentrated hard. But instead, I wondered if something else had awakened me. Even as I opened my eyes I had my answer in the ululating howl of a wolf. It sounded a good deal closer than before, and as I sat up, I felt a flash of anxiety for Gahltha.

  ‘The gehdra love the taste of equine meat and the scent of it would drive them mad with greed,’ Maruman sent, perhaps in belated explanation.

  ‘They like feline meat almost as well,’ Darga observed in a neutral tone.

  There had been no malice in the dog’s tone but the cat showed sharp teeth to him. ‘No wolf will ever eat Marumanyelloweyes, canine,’ he spat.

  ‘How do they feel about human meat?’ I asked, meaning it for a black joke.

  ‘They do not eat it,’ Maruman answered, to my surprise. ‘They believe it to be full of corruption.’

  ‘I think we ought to get out of this crevice,’ I said firmly. ‘The Agyllian fliers can’t possibly land here.’

  ‘No fliers will come,’ sent Darga.

  ‘But Maruman said we were waiting for them,’ I protested.

  ‘Marumanyelloweyes said wait, yes, but not for birds,’ said the dog. ‘We wait for gehdra.’

  I gaped at him. ‘What are you talking about? Why would we be waiting for wolves?’ Maruman flattened his ears and made no answer but I glared at him. ‘Tell me why we are here.’

  ‘You must make the Brildane hear you, ElspethInnle,’ Maruman said.

  ‘Hear me,’ I echoed carefully.

  ‘You must convince them to go with us,’ Darga said. ‘Without them your quest will fail. So said the oldOnes to Marumanyelloweyes.’

  I stared at the dog in disbelief. ‘You knew this? Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘It was not given the dog to tell,’ Maruman sent loftily. ‘He was only to lead you past the poisoned places and ask the gehdra to hear you. Nothing else.’

  ‘I could beastspeak them myself,’ I said.

  ‘No,’ said Darga. ‘The ithlinn have the power to close their minds to all but their own kind.’

  ‘Very well. I am to ask them to go with me? Why? And why ever would they agree if they hate humans so much?’

  Darga looked at Maruman. ‘Tell Innle what you were bidden to tell, Marumanyelloweyes,’ he sent.

  I thought Maruman would attack the dog, but instead he looked at me sullenly and sent, ‘The oldOnes could bend many beasts to do their will, but not the gehdra. Yet they/the oldOnes saw that it is within your power to convince them to go with you, if they will hear you. That is why the canine is needed. They cannot close their minds to him because he is their brethren, though they will despise him as a tamed servant of the funaga-li. He will ask in the name of the oldOnes that they hear what you will say, ElspethInnle, but you must find the words that will convince them to go with you.’

  ‘You have not told me why we need them,’ I said.

  Instead of answering me Maruman turned away to look across the shining pool to the other side of the clearing. I heard a twig snap.

  ‘They are here,’ Darga told me calmly and he rose and moved towards the pool.

  20

  One moment we were alone and the next a pack of more than twenty enormous wolves with pale blazing eyes emerged from the bushes like smoky wraiths, their thick coats in all shades from dark grey to pure white.

  They ranged themselves about the edges of the shining pool and stood utterly still, only their eyes moving from Darga, who seemed small as a puppy by comparison, though he was a big strong dog, to Maruman, who looked no more than a scrap of fur, and finally to me, standing slightly behind them. I wanted to step forward but my legs would not obey me. It was not fear that held me immobile but some power emanating from the wolves.

  An immense, muscular male the no-colour of ice appeared to be the pack leader. He was looking at Darga and I sensed that he was communicating with the dog, though I could hear nothing he said.

  ‘Greetings, pack leader,’ I heard Darga beastspeak in a very formal respectful tone. ‘The oldOnes bade me bring this funaga to you and ask that you hear her request.’ There was a silence, then he sent, as if in answer to a question, ‘I am not the slave or the servant of the funaga. She is my companion, as is the feline. We, serve the oldOnes. I ask again that you will open your mind to the funaga.’

  The big wolf responded with a low rumbling growl and it was a truly terrifying sound.

  ‘That is so, but before that, she instructed me to bring the funaga here,’ Darga said. This was met by another rumbling response from the ice-hued pack leader.

  ‘I do not fear death, for the beastheart will welcome me, but if you kill the funaga you kill the hope of all beasts, for this is that Innle who is to lead beasts to freedom,’ Darga sent calmly. The wolf shifted his silvery gaze from Darga to me, and then to Maruman, who uttered a soft but unmistakably challenging yowl.

  ‘It would not be wise for you to eat the feline for he is the protector of Innle, appointed by the oldOnes,’ Darga sent quickly as the wolf took a step towards Maruman. ‘Also he is old and likely his meat would be very tough and bitter.’

  Darga did not move and I realised with dismay that he, too, had been rendered helpless by the wolves. The pack leader came to Maruman, who looked very small and fragile beside the enormous wolf with the cold eyes. His lips curled back from his sharp, white teeth and I realised with horror that he was on the verge of attacking the old cat. Unable to reach the wolf’s mind to coerce him, I envisaged the spirit sword, and drew on the dark force at my core. I directed its eldritch potency into the slight ability I had to coerce small things, and used it to scoop a handful of scalding water from the pool and hurl it into the wolf’s face.

  He gave a shocked yowl of pain and reeled back, shaking his head. When he turned his blazing eyes on me, I saw that there was now a murderous red light in their depths. He padded past Maruman to confront me, and bared his fangs. He was so close that I could smell the rank stench of meat on his breath.

  ‘This one will kill tha, dinrai,’ the wolf sent the words scything into my mind.

  I was stunned by the sheer force of his sending, but also by the pain of his intrusion. Yet I sensed that the wolf was not trying to hurt me. There was something about
the way our minds fitted together that was imperfect. It was like putting on a shoe made for a very different foot. I was too exhausted to defend myself coercively even though the wolf’s mind was now open to me. All I had were words. Summoning my courage, I sent, ‘Kill me, and your she-wolves and your cubs and every one of your pack will die.’

  The wolf laid back his ears as if he, too, felt the discomfort of our difference. ‘Dost tha dare to threaten this one, dinrai?’ he asked, and now there was a cold and deadly amusement in his voice. ‘Will tha pack come to avenge tha?’

  ‘No one will come to revenge me for there will be no funaga left to do so if I fail in the quest laid on me by the oldOnes,’ I sent as coldly as he. ‘Nor will there be any of the Brildane to seek revenge. There will be no hot green valley in the mountains and no shining water. There will be nothing in all the world but wind and stone and lifeless water.’

  ‘The oldOnes did speak to this one long ago of Innle who will free beasts from the funaga-li,’ sneered the wolf. ‘Now tha comes but tha speaks of the doom of a world. Mayhap tha be a different Innle.’

  ‘There is but one Innle of beastlegend and if you say I am not that one, then you are blind,’ I sent sharply, knowing that beasts could tell that I was the Seeker. It had something to do with the way they could see a spirit with their waking eyes. There must be something in mine that identified me.

  After a long silence, the wolf finally asked, ‘Why dost tha come here, dinrai?’

  ‘I came to ask the Brildane to accompany me on my quest,’ I said, wishing Darga or Maruman had seen fit to tell me why the wolves were needed.

  ‘Aye, the Brildane will go with tha if tha quest is to find tha longsleep, dinrai-li,’ a new voice snarled into my mind. I would have winced if I could have moved, for though this mindvoice was less powerful than the mind of the pack leader, it seethed with a complex brew of loathing and madness that made my head spin. Yet strangely, the new mind fitted more comfortably against mine, as if it had communicated before with humans. The speaker was a lean, old wolf with dark grey fur gone to white at the muzzle. He had crept forward from the rest, teeth bared and red tongue lolling and I felt his intention to kill me even as his muscles bunched, and my mind went glassy with terror.