Lost Truth

by Dawn Cook

  “But . . .” the woman said, her eyes wide and confused.

  The sound of Talon’s wings pulled Alissa’s hand up just in time. The small bird landed, smacking Alissa in the face. Sharp nails dug into her, but she wouldn’t give up the strength she took from Talon for anything. She brought the raptor close, soothing the bird as much as herself with gentle murmurs.

  There was a padding on the path behind them, and Alissa turned. “Hey! Connen-Neute?” Lodesh called. “Did you take down the entire forest?”

  The Keeper jogged around the path. Strell and the captain were behind him, and Alissa felt a knot of worry loosen. Lodesh slowed, a delighted smile on his face. “Keribdis!” he called.

  Alissa went cold. Keribdis? She felt Beast quiver, only now understanding why her second consciousness was hiding. Captain Sholan was as pale as she felt, frantically crossing himself from his shoulder to his chest to ward off evil at the sight of three long-fingered Masters.

  Lodesh stepped forward to take Keribdis’s hands. His clothes and hair were perfectly in place except for an artfully arranged curl drooping roguishly before his eyes. “Bone and Ash!” Keribdis said, her cheeks pale. “Lodesh?”

  “Good afternoon, Master Keribdis,” Lodesh said, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he brought her limp hand to his chest. “You’re looking extre-e-e-emely well.”

  Keribdis’s mouth opened and shut, but nothing came out. “You’re young?” she finally managed. “No. You’re dead! I was there.”

  “That’s what they tell me,” he said. “I heard you gave me foxgloves. Thank you.”

  Keribdis shook her head. She glanced at Connen-Neute and Lodesh, then turned to Silla. “You were right,” she said, her face slack. “But it sounded so impossible.”

  Lodesh released Keribdis’s hand. “You’ll find Alissa is adept at the impossible.”

  A flicker of unease went through Alissa. The last thing she wanted was to draw attention to herself. She silently took her folded Master’s vest from Captain Sholan as he handed it to her. Behind her, Strell shifted from foot to foot. Connen-Neute had gone suspiciously quiet. He was staring at Silla, and his ears were red. Alissa thought she was going to be introduced, but Keribdis was looking expectantly at Strell and the captain.

  Seeing the direction of Keribdis’s gaze, Lodesh beamed. “Keribdis,” he said formally, “the man on the right is Captain Sholan. The plainsman beside him is Strell Hirdune.”

  Saying nothing, Strell nodded stiffly. Alissa knew he had come to blame Keribdis for the flood that killed his family, and he was reacting with more grace than she could have found.

  “Hirdune?” the woman breathed. “We finally got a Keeper out of the Hirdune line?”

  “Ah, not exactly,” Lodesh said. “Strell is a commoner. But he’s the Hold’s piper. Given a room in the tower for his past services.”

  “The Hold has no such position,” Keribdis snapped, and Talon chittered at her harsh tone.

  Alissa’s brow pinched as the woman found fault with Strell’s accomplishment. He had earned it. She took a breath to protest, and Lodesh interceded with a professional, soothing charm. “It does now,” he said. “You see, Talo-Toecan thought—”

  Keribdis took a quick breath. “Is he here? Did he come?” she interrupted, her face alight and glowing. It turned her more beautiful than anyone had the right to be.

  “No,” Lodesh said softly. “He is minding the Hold.”

  The woman’s eyes went cold, and her manner became stiff. “Well, he’s done a bone-cracked poor job of it!” she said. “I leave him alone for twenty years, and what happens? Feral rakus regain their sentience, commoners are given tower rooms, the dead return to life—”

  “Actually,” Lodesh interrupted, “I’m not entirely alive, just cursed.”

  She stared at him in disbelief. “Talo-Toecan woke you?”

  “No. Alissa did, sort of,” Lodesh added, not sounding at all apologetic.

  “And where—by my teacher’s ashes—is this Alissa?” Keribdis said tightly.

  Lodesh glanced at Alissa, his brow raised in an honest confusion. “I’m sorry. I thought you’d already been introduced.”

  The woman’s face went colder still. Alissa tensed as she watched Keribdis’s thoughts coming together as she looked at Alissa’s hands and eyes. Taking a quick breath, Alissa held it, grateful for Strell’s hand on her shoulder. “Silla has been dream-touching with you?” the woman said, the word overflowing with scorn. “You’re a transeunt. I thought you were a Keeper.”

  The silence was pained. Alissa was acutely aware of her dirty clothes and wild hair. “I’m Alissa,” she said, her chin raised. The tightness of tears threatened, and she savagely pushed them away. She didn’t have to like Keribdis. Keribdis didn’t have to like her.

  “The worm!” Keribdis exclaimed, and Connen-Neute and Silla both took a startled step back. “He brought about the next transeunt without me? I’ll flay the skin from his wings!”

  “Keribdis . . .” Lodesh stepped forward. “Talo-Toecan had nothing to do with it. Alissa was born before you left. She’s Meson’s daughter. Remember him? He joined with a woman from the plains. This wasn’t planned.”

  “I’ll say.” The proud woman ran her eyes over Alissa disapprovingly. Alissa stiffened, remembering the same look from the women in her village, as if she were a vagrant who might steal the clothes drying on their line or teach their children unsavory words. Strell’s grip on her shoulder tightened, and Talon’s nails dug into her until she had to move the bird to her other arm.

  Keribdis shook her head. “Wait until I get to my books. Who was responsible for charting Meson’s signature? Someone is at fault, and I’m going to find out who.” Her lips pursed, and she crossed her arms before her as she ran her gaze over Alissa. “Well, at least you did one thing right,” she said, speaking to Alissa. “Abandoning that shortsighted dreamer and seeking me out for tuition shows you have at least an ounce of brains.”

  Keribdis turned and headed down the path. “Come along,” she called out confidently. “I can hardly wait to see everyone’s faces when Connen-Neute and Lodesh walk into the village behind me. And we’ll have to hurry if we want to get there before it rains.”

  “Rain?” Captain Sholan muttered. “There’s not a cloud in the sky.”

  Silla and Connen-Neute automatically took a step after Keribdis, Connen-Neute bringing himself to a halt with a look of self-disgust. Alissa was frozen to the ground, anger making her fingers tingle and her knees shake. “You are not my teacher,” she said clearly.

  Keribdis jerked to a halt. Connen-Neute fingered his red sash nervously. The woman turned on a heel. “Yes, I am,” she said, her shoulders stiff. “I’m teaching the next transeunt. That’s you. I’m your teacher, whether you want it or not.”

  “No, you aren’t,” she said, feeling herself go pale. Beast quivered, hiding, but Alissa had seen enough of the woman’s theatrics and wouldn’t be bullied. “Talo-Toecan is my instructor,” she said, despite Lodesh’s frantic motions for her to be still.

  “He’s teaching you?” she questioned. Lodesh seemed to collapse in on himself. “The ash-ridden worm. I’m teaching the next transeunt, and he knows it!” She spun about and stalked down the path, clearly not caring about Alissa, only that her perceived rights had been stolen.

  “That went well,” Lodesh muttered. Giving Alissa an apologetic look, he started after the angry woman. “Keribdis,” he cajoled, jogging to catch her. “He thought he had no choice. He thought you were all dead!”

  Silla hesitated, seeming to want to say something to Alissa, but then she headed quickly after Keribdis, her long, black hair swinging. Captain Sholan followed her, muttering of Masters and women with hot tempers and how they were the same as snakes.

  “You never told me,” Connen-Neute whispered as he stared after Silla.

  “Told you what?” she said, her voice shaking.

  “That Silla was so . . . graceful.”

 
; Alissa watched him hasten after Silla. The backs of his ears were red as he came even with her. Silla slowed, glancing up at him as he matched her pace.

  Her pulse hammered, and she wanted to sit down. Strell’s hand dropped from her shoulder, and she gave him a thankful look. Shaken, she took a cleansing breath.

  “You got your shoes wet,” Strell said softly, handing her hat to her.

  “Thanks,” she whispered so her voice wouldn’t quaver. “Where did you find my hat?”

  “Right where you told me.” Taking her elbow, he started them down the path. “By the tree with the red berries. I nearly twisted my ankle when your thoughts slipped into mine.” His smile grew soft, and he wiped a smudge of dirt from her chin. “I don’t mind, though. I wish it would happen all the time.”

  Red berries? she thought, confused, not even remembering a tree with red berries, much less asking him to fetch her hat.

  “You were busy catching Silla,” Beast whispered, and Alissa glanced at Keribdis’s back, worried that she might hear. But the incensed woman never slowed. “It took you three months to make that hat,” Beast added. “And you stabbed yourself with the needle twice.”

  “Beast!” Alissa hissed into her thoughts. “Strell might have realized you weren’t me!”

  “He didn’t, though, did he?”

  Alissa fumed, not liking that Beast could speak soundlessly to Strell without her knowledge. She slowly fell into step, her fingers calming Talon. It hadn’t been the best impression she had ever made, but at least Keribdis hadn’t seen Beast. As long as she kept her wits about her, she could do this.

  16

  Bells chiming, Alissa tromped behind Strell, hot, sticky, and worried. As foretold, the skies had erupted with towering clouds. She hoped the village wasn’t much farther. Though the path was smooth and well-maintained, Keribdis’s pace left her panting and hot under her heavy Master’s attire. Pride—and a painful awareness that her skirt was stained from falling into the stream—kept Alissa’s mouth shut and her long Master’s vest on.

  So lost was she in her uneasy thoughts that she nearly ran into Strell when he halted. Jerking to a stop, she edged around him. Alissa’s eyes widened as she took in the village. “Sweet as potatoes,” Strell murmured, and she agreed, craning her neck upward to look into the trees.

  Captain Sholan came to stand beside her. “They live in ash-ridden trees?” he whispered. He was crossing himself again, though Alissa thought it was more from habit than fear.

  Tall, wide-girthed trees spread their canopy far above clear-swept ground. The smallest was wider around than three people could reach. They made a shady space that looked eerily like the holden with its stately pillars. Wedged among the branches were platforms and shelters. Alissa could tell they weren’t big enough to hold a raku. The few Masters she noticed on the ground were in their human shift, and she drew back, suddenly shy.

  “Do you think they stay in their human form all the time?” she asked Strell in a whisper.

  “Of course not,” Keribdis said, making Alissa feel like a fool. “But there’s little to eat on the islands. If we stayed as rakus, we would soon strip them of food.”

  “They’re mirth trees!” Lodesh exclaimed softly, and Alissa brought her hand to her mouth, now seeing the resemblance. “But why don’t they smell like mirth trees?”

  “Most of them are male,” Keribdis said. “The ones in your city are female. That’s why it’s so seldom you get a fertile seed. The pollen has to cross the ocean.”

  “Fantastic,” he breathed.

  The Masters on the ground had noticed them, and Keribdis straightened. “Look who I found by the far beaches!” she called triumphantly, leading the way into the village.

  Alissa took a steadying breath. “Do I look all right?” she whispered to Strell.

  His smile was comforting. “You look like a Master,” he said as he shifted the fabric on her shoulders.

  Alissa nodded, nervous as she started after everyone. Beside her, Captain Sholan was muttering charms and clutching his hat to his chest. His eyes were wide and afraid. The change in Keribdis from angry wife to self-satisfied finder of lost children was obvious. Her resentment was still there. It remained to be seen how it would express itself.

  “Wolves of Ash,” one of the approaching Masters exclaimed. “It’s Connen-Neute. It’s Connen-Neute! And he’s not feral!”

  “Connen-Neute?” another called, and Alissa’s head echoed with the mental shout. Immediately she set a ward in place to dull the noise. Rakus began to spiral down from the trees. Upon landing, they became courtly dressed men and women. The air was full of wings and noise, and Alissa stared, wondering how they didn’t hit each other.

  “Keep it verbal!” Keribdis exclaimed. “I can’t keep you straight that way!”

  The mental echo vanished, but the confused babble of voices grew as long-fingered men and woman clustered around them. Connen-Neute was grinning, his long, solemn face lost in pleasure. Beaming, he reached for the hands stretching out toward him.

  Alissa felt a moment of panic. Thirty? Forty people? She couldn’t tell. They were all old. Not as old as Useless, but as old as her mother would be, perhaps. She stepped back, clustering herself between Strell and Lodesh to try to stay out of the way.

  “Too many,” Beast whispered, her fright building. “Alissa, it’s too many! Get us away!”

  Talon flapped her wings and called loudly. She refused to leave Alissa’s wrist. Alissa let her make all the noise she wanted. It kept a ring of space about her that both she and Beast needed. The bird’s claws pinched painfully, and Alissa crafted a black scarf to wrap her wrist. Her heart pounded as more and more Masters appeared. This was what she had come for, she told herself, trying to smile whenever a pair of golden eyes met hers. This was what she wanted. But she hadn’t thought it would be like this!

  “Connen-Neute!” a short woman cried, pushing her way to the front and pulling him down to her height so she could hug him around the neck. “By the Navigator! It’s you!” she cried, her eyes bright with tears. “You left us.” She whacked him on his shoulder, having to stretch to do it. “Don’t you ever do that again!”

  “My aunt,” Connen-Neute explained in a private thought to Alissa, darting his gaze to Alissa and back to the woman. The young Master grinned, his white teeth showing strong against his tan. “I don’t plan on it,” he said aloud, and the crowd cheered.

  “He talks!” someone cried. “Connen-Neute returns to us better than he left!”

  “Mirim. Oh, Mirim save me,” Captain Sholan chanted as he retreated to the outskirts.

  “But how did you get here?” Connen-Neute’s aunt asked, hugging him again.

  Connen-Neute glanced over his shoulder at the unseen cove. “By boat.”

  “A boat!” she cried. “Hear that, Keribdis? They have a boat!” The joyful woman glanced over the rest of them. “And you brought Keepers.” Connen-Neute’s aunt sighed, her entire body moving. “It’s been so long since I’ve taught anyone. I never thought I’d miss it.”

  “Not just Keepers,” a loud voice said. “Wipe the sand from your eyes, Neugwin. That’s the Warden.”

  Connen-Neute’s aunt peered at Lodesh, her face brightening. “Lodesh Stryska?” she said, beaming. “By the Wolves. You’re supposed to be dead!”

  Alissa’s eyes widened as the crowd was pushed aside by a rotund but refined looking man. A fat Master? she thought as she saw the traditional vest made up of acres of fabric.

  “Lodesh, is your city awake?” the Master asked, his gaze intelligent and sharp from his round face. “Who woke you? Talo-Toecan?”

  Lodesh grinned. Knowing all eyes were on him, he made one of his extravagant citadel bows. “Returned from the dead, Beso-Ran,” he said. “My city finally sleeps, and my people are free of the curse that bound us, but I’m here. I’m not done with the world just yet.” He gave Alissa an intent look, and she dropped her eyes.

  “Connen-Neute woke the city!” s
omeone shouted, and a cheer went up.

  “No.” Lodesh’s eyes went soft on her. “Alissa had something to do with it.”

  “Ah,” Connen-Neute’s aunt said as she came to stand before Alissa. “You must be Alissa. I’m Neugwin. It’s a pleasure to meet you. How did you manage to wake the charmer?”

  The sound of approaching thunder rumbled through Alissa as she crossed Neugwin’s hand. She went shy as Neugwin’s brow rose at Alissa’s Master’s vest. Her heart was pounding, but they all seemed friendly enough—if rather intense. “I’m not sure how I managed to wake Lodesh,” Alissa said. “And this is Strell Hirdune, and Captain Sholan is there by that tree.”

  “Hirdune?” Neugwin said, her brows rising. “Keribdis, I should’ve taken your wager. I told you we’d get a Keeper out of the Hirdune line. You have to have faith, dear.”

  Keribdis touched her ribbons. Alissa thought it was a move designed to draw attention to her rather than to check her hair. “Then you would be making me breakfast for the next ten years,” Keribdis said, her mien just shy of haughty. “He’s not a Keeper.”

  “No?” Neugwin eyed Strell sharply.

  “He’s a commoner,” Keribdis said sourly. “But it gets better. Talo-Toecan gave him title to a tower room. A commoner. The Wolves know why.”

  Alissa felt a pang of worry at the crowd’s uneasy murmur. Lodesh’s eyes opened wide in wonder. As she watched, he seemed to become larger than life, balancing against Keribdis’s dramatics as if it were second nature. He wore a confusion Alissa knew was designed to divorce himself from the blame Keribdis would put upon the bearer of bad news. “Silla hasn’t told you what has happened?” he said, his hands spread wide. “Why we’ve come? Why feral rakus return to sentience, ghosts take up life, and commoners are granted title to the Hold?” Silla looked nervous, Keribdis rather poisonous. “Silla and Alissa have been dream-touching the last six months,” he finished. “Haven’t you been listening to her?”