The Sending

by Isobelle Carmody

  I had not known that, and it left me breathless and humbled. Finally, I said, ‘Why did they summon you?’

  ‘To help you,’ Straaka said. ‘They told me that if I could help you, you would be able to free Miryum from her unwaking sleep. I asked what help I could give, trapped in this realm. They bade me wait, for they had foreseen that you would come here in spirit-form, and when you did, I must tell you about Miryum. They could not speak to you because you cannot go high enough without risking your survival.’

  ‘Before, when I saw you …’

  ‘I would have spoken of these things to you then, but the dark mad spirit which seeks you came. The oldOnes had spoken of it and bade me warn you to avoid the dreamtrails, but they had not foreseen that the one who seeks you would be able to rise so high. In truth, they told me later that it could not have done so unless the flesh to which it was linked was dangerously ill.’

  ‘Ariel is ill,’ I echoed, and heard the disbelief in my tone. I wondered why it was so hard to think of Ariel being ill or hurt like any other person.

  Straaka went on. ‘Fortunately the oldOnes’ powers enabled them to see your danger and even as I strove to make you wake, they sent another spirit-form that flies in these high realms to help you. The oldOnes told me this when I returned to confess that I had failed to speak to you of Miryum. They bade me wait, and you would come again, and this time you would rise too high for the Destroyer to find you. I waited and watched. And you came.’

  ‘I was summoned,’ I said.

  The tribesman frowned. ‘I did not summon you, nor would the oldOnes be able to do so directly.’ His expression cleared. ‘They might have used the spirit they had sent to help you before.’

  ‘Whose spirit was it?’ I asked, thinking of the red and violet wolfman spirit-form that had called me a fool and snarled at me to wake.

  ‘I do not know,’ Straaka said. ‘It was too strong not to be linked to life, but none come here who are not near to death, save those with unusual spiritual power.’

  The black sword brought me here, I thought. I dismissed the unknown spirit-form from my mind. ‘So, the oldOnes wanted you to tell me that Miryum is the captive of Beforetimers in their city on the white plain, and that they are keeping her asleep and that I need to find her and wake her. Did they say anything else?’

  He hesitated. ‘They did not say she had been taken captive by Beforetimers or that she was in a city. Miryum told me that,’ he said.

  I frowned. ‘But you said you walked through it with her.’

  He shook his head. ‘I walked through a memory-dream of the city, but for all I know she might have simply recreated her old dream. All I know is that she can’t wake.’

  I considered this, then I said, ‘The city exists and I am travelling there now, so I think we can assume that Miryum really is there. What can you tell me about the city and her captors?’

  ‘I saw only what Miryum believes she saw,’ Straaka reiterated. ‘I can show you, but I have not given you the whole of the oldOnes’ message. The oldOnes wanted me to tell you that when the new Elder of the Agyllians has taken them into himself, he will come to you with what you will need to complete your quest.’

  ‘He?’ I said, startled. I had always assumed the new Elder would be a female. Then the rest of his words penetrated. Atthis’s successor would bring what I needed to complete my quest. Did they mean Cassandra’s key or something else? Before I could ask, the mountain and the ledge and the grey sky wavered in a way that made me feel dizzy and nauseous.

  ‘The spirit-dream is weakening,’ Straaka warned. He fixed me with his dark eyes. ‘Find Miryum, Elspeth Seeker. Wake her, not only for her sake and mine, but because the oldOnes say she too has a part to play in your quest, ere the end.’

  ‘Miryum does?’

  The ledge wavered and disappeared and I felt myself fading and melting. I summoned my image, and let the weight of the sword draw me rapidly down. To my horror, the moment I saw the dreamtrails I felt the unmistakable mindless malice of the Destroyer forming around me. This time I reacted instantly, coercing myself awake so strongly that I slammed back into my flesh with violent force. I immediately rolled to one side and vomited.

  ‘Elspeth!’ Analivia cried in alarm, and I opened my eyes to find her kneeling beside me. The sun was high overhead, shining through a gap in dark clouds. I squinted, confused, for surely the sun had already set? Analivia lifted her hand to push a strand of hair back from my face, and I was startled to see a pulse of green light at her fingertips, but when I blinked there was nothing.

  ‘Healing hands,’ I said, but it came out as a garbled mutter. My mouth felt sore and swollen and I had a terrible headache.

  ‘Don’t try to talk,’ Analivia advised. ‘Rest.’

  ‘The wolves,’ I tried to say, but she shook her head and held a finger to her lips as if bidding me keep a secret. Then sleep opened its maw and swallowed me. This time, there were no dreams.

  I woke again to a night that was dark and still and very cold. Remembering the clouds, I guessed the sky was completely overcast, for there ought to be a near full moon, by my reckoning. The others sat a little distance away around a small campfire, talking in low voices. The smell of food hung in the air, and my stomach rumbled. The strength of my hunger told me that I had been unconscious for some time, as did the fact that my headache had faded. My mouth only hurt a little, but one of my front teeth was chipped. I probed my other teeth with an anxious tongue and was relieved to find that the rest were intact.

  ‘Do you wish to have water to drink?’ asked a deep voice.

  I turned my head warily to find Ahmedri sitting by me, his big hands closed around one of his tisanes. I wondered vaguely what this one was for. Then the memory of my meeting with his brother flooded back, and I realised with dismay that I had not thought to tell Straaka that Ahmedri was travelling with me and seeking him. ‘Are you in pain?’ the tribesman asked.

  ‘Water,’ I managed to croak, and with surprising gentleness, he raised me up and fed water to me until I shook my head. ‘I fell,’ I said.

  ‘It might be more accurate to say the mountain threw you off and then jumped on you,’ the tribesman said, sounding almost amused. ‘It is a marvel that you were not more seriously hurt. For a time we feared that something inside you had been injured, because you were bleeding from the mouth and your skin was clammy. But it must just have been the shock of the accident, for the bleeding ceased and your colour returned.’

  ‘Maruman?’ I managed.

  ‘No one else was hurt,’ he assured me, and he nodded pointedly towards my feet. I lifted my head gingerly and saw the old cat was sound asleep on the edge of the blanket that had been laid over me. I relaxed and looked at Ahmedri, wanting to tell him of his brother, but it was such a strange, unlikely story and I was full of the heavy weariness that always followed a period when my body had been expending itself healing me, and I had used my spirit strength besides. No wonder I felt so bad.

  ‘How long have I been unconscious?’ I croaked, and the tribesman fed me some more water as he told me that it had been a night and day since I had fallen. The wolves had come the night before and had gone again, after sniffing at me and speaking to Darga. The dog had signalled to Swallow that they would return in two days. ‘Tomorrow,’ he added. ‘But I do not think you will be strong enough to travel so soon.’

  I had too little energy to argue. Ahmedri rose in his fluid way, saying that he would get Analivia to look at my wounds, but before he came back with her, I fell asleep again.

  When next I woke, it was so early in the morning that there were still stars in the sky, and the heavy cloud cover of the previous night had eased so that patches of the clear dark-blue sky were visible. The smell of cooking in the air made me so hungry I felt ill. I turned my head to find it was now Dameon sitting next to me. Though blind his empathy told him at once that I was awake, and he was already leaning forward.

  ‘You feel better,’ he said. />
  I could not help but smile. ‘Was that a question or a command?’

  He laughed softly, but sobered quickly. ‘We all feared you were mortally wounded. I can hardly believe that you took so little harm.’

  ‘My quest will not let me go so easily,’ I quipped, wondering how ill I had truly been. Straaka had told me that only a spirit whose flesh was near death could come to those high realms where we had met, or some great force of spirit. I had assumed the latter, but perhaps I had been wrong. I bade the empath help me to the fire, saying I was ravenous. It was not until I had eaten two bowls of porridge spiced with cloves and honey that I thought of anything but filling my belly. The light-headedness I had been feeling since waking had gone when I stood up gingerly and tested my limbs. My first steps were shaky, but after I had walked carefully away to relieve myself, I felt less stiff. Only then did I look around and notice that, once again, Rasial and Gavyn were absent.

  ‘They have been roaming since yesterday,’ Swallow said, when I asked about them.

  ‘The wolves?’ I asked.

  The gypsy gestured west, to my surprise. ‘There is a track that goes down to the left of the weeping archway. The wolves went that way and it seems that is where we are to go next. It is unnoticeable unless you know it is there. Ahmedri scouted it after they had gone and it goes down to another remnant of an old road that runs under this plateau and gradually winds its way east through the mountains. The wolves are to return at dusk. How do you feel?’

  ‘Well enough to go on when they come,’ I said firmly.

  Swallow and Analivia exchanged a look, but Ahmedri only said calmly that Darga had come with him and that according to the dog, there were great tainted stretches of terrain they would have to cross, if the wolves led them in that direction.

  ‘The wolves have the ability to discern less badly tainted ground and if we do go that way, I am sure they will find a safe path,’ I said, more confidently than I felt. I glanced at Darga, noting that he was stretched out by Analivia. I wondered if the ice with which he had surrounded his heart was beginning to melt. Certainly it seemed to me that he was drawn to the lowland woman, and more than once I had noticed her absent-mindedly stroking his great ugly head.

  Maruman appeared and came padding across to settle himself on my knee. I suppressed a rush of relief that he had not been hurt when the talus had fallen apart, and quelled the urge to stroke him, knowing that it was like to see me bitten if he was in a truculent mood.

  ‘What is it?’ Dameon asked curiously, sensing me making a decision.

  I told them all that had happened as I slept. They listened in stunned silence as I spoke of the dreamtrails and of the high realm of spirit, where Straaka had come to tell me about Miryum and the oldOnes. It took a long time to explain about the dreamtrails and the mindstream and about shaping a conscious spirit-form that could journey in dreams and in other ways. I did not complicate my tale by telling them about the attacks of the H’rayka but I did tell them that both Gahltha and Maruman could travel the perilous dreamtrails.

  ‘But you speak of dreams,’ Analivia said, sounding fascinated. ‘What peril could there be in dreams?’

  ‘The dreamtrails are not dreams but a realm where the spirit has the feel and substance of flesh, and any harm taken there will cause a corresponding wound to the flesh.’ I glanced at Ahmedri who had barely moved a muscle since I had mentioned his brother.

  Now he asked in a stiff voice, ‘What said my brother when you told him that I was with you?’

  I shook my head apologetically. ‘It was all so strange that I did not think of telling him about you until it was too late.’ I hesitated. ‘I am sorry that I tried so hard to make you stop following me, Ahmedri, for it seems I was wrong. The overguardian saw and spoke true. You will come to Miryum by following me. Unfortunately, I still don’t know exactly where she is, though it seems very likely that she is being held in this city that she and Jacob dreamed about, that we now know lies beyond glowing Blacklands on a white untainted plain to the north-east.’

  ‘You said Rheagor’s ancestor was taken captive by the efari,’ Analivia said. ‘If Miryum was also taken captive is it not likely to have been the efari who took her, too?’

  It was well reasoned and I nodded slowly, wondering why I was always so suspicious of simple or obvious answers.

  ‘Perhaps it only appears that she was taken prisoner,’ Dameon said. ‘After all, Straaka told you Miryum was sick and delirious and we must suppose that she was suffering from taint sickness if she had crossed the Blacklands without any guidance. Yet she did not die. Maybe her captors force her to sleep that she might heal.’

  ‘Then why keep her asleep after healing her?’ Swallow asked.

  There was no answer to that, and in truth, no matter how cleverly we speculated, we would not have any final answers until we reached the city on the white plain.

  25

  ‘Chew this,’ Analivia said, pressing into my hand a little pouch of herbs wrapped in a leaf. ‘Do not swallow it.’

  ‘Ugh, it smells truly foul.’ I grimaced when I had sniffed it dubiously.

  ‘It tastes worse but it will help your headache.’

  ‘How did you know my head was aching?’ I asked.

  She smiled. ‘I could tell from the way you have been grinding your teeth. It is not surprising given the tumble you took. I thought for certain sure you had cracked your skull open. I am surprised you are not black and purple with bruises.’

  I thanked her meekly and chewed on the leaf pouch, which turned out to be every bit as bad as she had promised, yet it did ease the headache that had begun to plague me again. In fact only half of my fretfulness arose from the headache, the rest was a combination of irritation and anxiety because Rasial and Gavyn had not yet returned, though the sun was now westering and the wolves were likely to appear at any minute. Swallow had chided me for fretting, saying that the dog and the boy would catch us up as they usually did, but I had pointed out that since we were soon to pass over tainted land, we ought to stay together.

  Darga offered to mark out a scent trail that the ridgeback would have no trouble following, but I insisted that we would wait for them. I was determined to speak to Rasial when she returned and try to convince her to stop Gavyn wandering off. It would be a mistake to rage at her and utterly pointless to scold Gavyn, but I was determined to deliver a calm and pointed lecture about being a member of an expedition.

  The leaf pouch took the edge off the headache but it did not abate entirely and I wondered crossly how it was that my body could heal me from near death injuries and yet be unable to get rid of a simple headache. But maybe the problem was that headaches could result from mental tensions as much as any specific physical ailment.

  Restless, I lifted the sleeping Maruman gently from my lap onto my pack and walked back slowly to look up at the bluff we had climbed to inspect the Observatory. Once again the clouds had closed over, turning the red of dusk to a rusty brown so it was hard to see the building as much more than a white shape. But I could visualise it in my mind’s eye very clearly. Odd how, from below, it did not look near as high, and yet I could remember vividly the dizzy terror I had felt looking down. But in the end the danger had come from the deceptively easy-looking mound of stone and rubble at its hem. There was a lesson in that, I thought. I looked up, wondering if the stone really had been a bridge, as Swallow had speculated. Then I shuddered, recollecting that this had been the very question in my mind when I had stumbled.

  I heard a step behind me and turned to see Dameon approaching. I did not wonder how the empath knew where I was. He had always been able to map the world by the emotions of people around him. I took a step towards him and stubbed my toe hard enough to make my eyes water. Dameon winced at my muttered curse and when he came to me, he gently drew my hand through his elbow. I was surprised at the hard muscles I could feel in his arm. Truly his journey to the Westland and his riding lessons had hardened him.

 
‘How is it that you are blind but I am clumsy,’ I demanded with mocking ire.

  He smiled. ‘The difference is that I can not rely on seeing things,’ Dameon said, ‘so I must be aware at all times and keep a constant sense of the people and obstacles around me.’

  ‘But how does any of that help when you are in a place where people are moving?’ I could not help but ask. ‘I have known you to look at me across a crowded room and know me for who I am.’

  Dameon grinned. ‘My dearest Elspeth, you emanate emotions as loudly as Matthew used to do. And people’s emotions have what I can only describe as a flavour, which is unique. So I can … taste you in your emotions. There is no better way to describe it,’ he added, with his usual grimace of frustration at the limitations of a language that did not encompass more than the five senses ordinary unTalents possessed. Then he shrugged. ‘When you enter a chamber I am in, my senses know it as if cymbals had been struck.’

  ‘Speaking of Matthew, have you had any dreams of him lately?’ I asked.

  The empath nodded slowly. ‘Only snatches of things that might or might not have been true dreams. You?’

  On impulse, I told him that some of my dreams of Matthew had felt less like true dreams than actual communications.

  Dameon looked astonished, as well he might. ‘Do you mean to say that you spoke to him?’

  ‘I spoke and he reacted as if he had heard me, and once he said my name. Another time I told him that we were bringing Dragon to the Red Land and bade him wait there and prepare. But these encounters were completely random – neither Matthew nor I sought them, but we were both on the dreamtrails. It is my guess that Matthew was deeply unconscious because he was ill and fevered or maybe wounded in some way. As I told you a little while back, a person’s spirit-form can drift from its body when it is ill and I think such drifting spirit-forms are naturally drawn to the dreamtrails. In truth I think that is how true dreams come to us. But being an unconsciously created spirit-form, Matthew’s had little self-control so our meeting was brief and ended abruptly and he may well have woken and dismissed it as a fever dream.’