Ravens Strike

by Patricia Briggs

Chapter 6

 

  Seraph wiped a hand across her forehead. No doubt, she thought, leaving an attractive smear of dust behind. She glanced at Hennea, who was picking through the contents of a chest, her face pale and set.

  After sorting the books in the library and taking a careful look at the mostly empty rooms comprising the innards of the temple, they'd collected Rinnie and the boys and set them to hauling the books of solsenti wizardry and the books neither she nor Hennea could translate down to Jes's secret room. Then she and Hennea set out to look at the two rooms they'd left for last.

  The closet where the Shadowed had set his summoning runes told them nothing. Given a few years, the dissipating powers might clear enough to allow Seraph to read the wooden slats and find out more about the Shadowed, but right now the only past that they wanted to tell her about was the past of Karadoc carrying the forest king into the temple and cleaning the runes.

  She had learned something interesting though not important to their search for the Shadowed.

  She'd thought the excavation was too extensive to have been dug in the short time between the arrival of the new Sept of Leheigh, who had brought Volis and assorted mages belonging to the Path among his retinue, and the opening of the Temple of the Five. She'd been right.

  The lower tunnels told her they had been dug in secret, many years earlier, as places to hide goods from the Sept's tax collector. When Volis had brought hired men into Redern to dig the temple, they must have happened into the tunnels by chance. She wondered if Willon knew about the tunnels here, since the lower layer should be on the same level as his store.

  By unspoken consent, they saved Volis's bedroom for last; Seraph because it was the most likely place, after the library, to hold something of interest, but she thought Hennea put it off it for another reason.

  Seraph found a yellowish sapphire set in a wristband, fallen among the cushions of Volis's bed. It wasn't an Order-bound gem, so she left it there. Dropping the bedding she'd searched, Sraph looked at Hennea.

  She was sifting through one of a pair of trunks that sat against a wall and avoiding looking at the bed. If Seraph had been in any doubt as to some of the uses Volis had put Hennea to, one look at Hennea's face when they'd first come into the room would have been all she needed. Hennea hadn't said anything, and Seraph didn't pry. Sometimes silence was all the help she could offer.

  When they finished, Seraph let Hennea take care of spelling Jes's secret room with its new treasure while Seraph and Rinnie packed Traveler books.

  Jes bounded into the library. "It's a good secret room, now," he said, as Hennea and Lehr followed him into the library.

  "I'm glad it pleases you," Seraph told Jes. "Grab a pack, and we'll start down. "

  "I get to carry my maps," said Rinnie smugly. Maybe it was the knowledge she'd found the most interesting thing in the temple, but Seraph suspected that at least some of the self-satisfied expression was because the satchel with its maps was a lot lighter than the books.

  The tavern was a very old building, perhaps the oldest in Redern, and built near the bottom of the mountain. As Seraph put her foot on the bottom step of the porch, Lehr touched her arm. When he had her attention, he nodded toward Jes, who was pale and swaying - always a bad sign.

  "Why don't you head on home," Seraph told Lehr. "I can get Tier and follow the rest of you. " She gave him her pack of books to carry along with his own. He gave her a half smile that told her he understood she didn't want to have to explain to everyone in the tavern just what it was she was doing carrying a pack full of books from the temple.

  "Back to the farm sounds like a good idea," Hennea said. She took a step toward Jes, hesitated, then took his arm. He started as if he hadn't noticed her until she touched him. "Come, Jes," she said, her voice a little softer than usual. "We're going home. "

  Worried, Seraph watched them go. Jes had never liked the town, but she'd never seen him this bothered by it, either. Was he getting worse? Was there anything she could do to help? She felt like she'd spent half her life asking herself those questions, and she no more had the answers now than she'd had twenty years ago.

  Searching for something more productive to think about, she found herself playing with the idea Hennea had broached earlier. What if there were more Ordered solsenti? Would she ever have recognized it in Tier if she hadn't met him under extraordinary circumstances?

  Intent on her thoughts, the noise of the busy tavern startled her. It was full. Guards, she thought, judging by the number of weapons they carried. It wasn't all that uncommon to see so many strangers here; this was the closest tavern to the trail. It made her glad she'd sent her pack with Lehr - books were valuable, and some of these guardsmen looked as though they sometimes might have held other, less savory occupations.

  She could hear a lute intermingling with the sounds of men talking, but whoever it was played stiffly and a little off pitch. She wondered when Tier would tactfully help him out a little.

  The crowd shifted, and she saw the lute player. Shock caught her breath. It was Tier. Even as she watched him, he shook his head and put the lute down.

  "Seraph," Regil, the tavern's owner, reached out to steady her, but didn't quite touch. "Are you all right?"

  "Fine," she said, composing herself. "Excuse me. "

  Tier could play badly, she thought, but only if he wanted to. She'd spent the first two weeks after she'd gotten him back from the Path wizards surreptitiously checking to make certain that they had not damaged him, that they hadn't begun to steal his Order already. But after those first weeks, as he began to recover from the hurt they had done, she'd quit worrying, quit looking.

  Unto the Ravens it is given to see the Orders. She called the magic and looked. The fine fabric of Tier's Order was wrapped around him as it always was, but there were holes in it.

  She started toward Tier, but her exchange with the tavern owner had drawn several of the strange men's attention to her.

  A man on her right surged to this feet. "A Traveler bitch? I thought the animals had to stay outside. "

  Seraph stopped and looked at him, waiting for him to do something else. Anything else. Rage surged through her veins and brought magic with it. Tier was home. He should have been safe. This guardsman had nothing to do with her anger.

  Nothing and everything.

  "Seraph Tieraganswife," said the tavern owner, trying to distract her from her prey, brave man. "As you see, your husband has been keeping us busy with his tales. "

  She didn't take her eyes off the guardsman. "I'm glad to hear it," she said.

  "Seraph," said Tier. "Let the poor man alone. "

  If that "poor man" had tried his speech in a different place, with a different Traveler woman, one who was not Raven, he might have caused some harm. Benroln might have been right, maybe if the solsenti were more afraid of Travelers, they wouldn't have destroyed so many of the clans.

  The Path wouldn't have begun taking Travelers, and Tier wouldn't have rents in his Order. She'd never seen anything like it, but then, until the Path kidnaped Tier, she'd never heard of anyone being able to separate Order from Order Bearer.

  "Sit down. " She told the guardsman.

  Tier could put a compulsion in his words that made people obey him. Seraph's magic forced his body to comply with her demand. Same result from different causes. The guardsman dropped to his seat as if he'd been a puppet whose strings were cut.

  "Shut up. "

  The spell would fade after an hour or so, she'd given it no extra push. The rest of the tavern had miraculously quieted, though she had been careful to direct the spell only onto the man who'd annoyed her.

  She walked the rest of the way to Tier's table with Regil's anxious escort.

  Willon stood as she approached the table. Her gaze locked on Tier, she hadn't even noticed there was someone else sitting with him until Willon moved. He took her hand and kissed it. He'd never don
e such a thing before, and it distracted her for a moment. "Seraph, so nice to see you. Please excuse the words of my cousin's guardsman. He won't be here long. "

  His words and his unusual gallantry were to let the guards know they were to leave her alone, she thought, and was dimly grateful.

  "Willon. " She couldn't manage to chat with the merchant, not when she was so worried about Tier.

  She knew that Tier would have already thanked him for traveling all the way to Taela to help them, so she didn't need to. She inclined her head to him, but her attention was on her husband. "Tier, the children have gone on home, are you ready to leave?"

  He smiled, but there was something off about his smile. He knew, she thought. Of course he knew there was something wrong.

  "I think it might be best. " He picked up a lute and gave it to the tavern owner. "Thanks for the lunch, Regil. I missed your sausage while I was gone. "

  He put Seraph's hand on his arm and led her back to where Hennea awaited him at the exit.

  As soon as they were out of earshot of the tavern, Tier said, "Seraph, I was singing, and I couldn't stay on pitch. " He shook his head. "I've never had that trouble before. "

  "There's something wrong with your Bardic Order," she told him.

  His strides broke rhythm, then resumed his usual pace, though slowed a bit by his limp. "Something the Path did?"

  Seraph gave a frustrated huff and slid her hand down until she was clutching his. "It seems likely. I don't know how to fix this. Until the Path's wizards proved differently, it was my understanding that nothing could affect the Orders. "

  "Coat it in sugar, why don't you?" Tier's voice was lightly amused, but his hand tightened almost brutally on hers. "If you can't fix this, I'm not going to sing on key anymore?"

  "I don't know. "

  Tier didn't loosen his grip on her hand, but he quit talking.

  They hadn't been so long at the tavern that the children had beaten them home by much. Gura was still bouncing with excitement when he spied them on their way. He tore up the path, going so fast that he had to run by them once before he could slow enough to get a proper ear rubbing from Tier.

  In the house Hennea had a map spread out on the table, and the boys and Rinnie were gathered around, engrossed in their examination.

  "Hennea," Seraph said. "We have a problem. "

  "Can you do anything, Mother?" asked Rinnie.

  Seraph glanced at Hennea, who shrugged and answered, "I don't know. We'll try. The Elder Wizards managed to work with the Orders, obviously, since they created them. But as far as the mermori libraries that Hennea, Brewydd, and I have managed to get through, they wrote nothing about it. "

  "Brewydd might know something that could help," said Lehr. "I can go and find the Librarian's clan. "

  Seraph hesitated. Benroln's clan could be anywhere - and there was no guarantee that Brewydd could do anything for Tier.

  "I'm Hunter, Mother. I can find them. "

  "He'll need a horse," said Tier. It was the first thing that he'd said since they came home. "Skew's not up to a fast trip. "

  "All right. " Seraph got up to retrieve the purse the Emperor had given them from the loft. She scrambled back down the ladder and held the bag out to Lehr.

  "Take this now, while there's still daylight. Go see what kind of a mount you can purchase from Akavith. "

  Lehr took the purse gingerly. "Akavith's expensive, Mother. "

  "He breeds horses for the nobility," she agreed. "He'll have something fast. Make certain he knows you want an animal for hunting, not farmwork. " She glanced at Tier, he knew the crusty old horseman better than she. "Can he tell Akavith that he's riding for a Traveler healer?"

  Tier nodded. "Tell him where the money comes from, too, though likely he knows already. After the verses Ciro sang the other night, likely the story of the farmer and the Emperor is all over the mountains by now. Akavith will be more likely to help if he knows the whole story. His mother's aunt was a hedgewitch and healer round about when I was a boy, and he has no grudge against Travelers. "

  "Tell him you'd like Cornsilk," said Jes.

  Seraph felt her eyebrows creeping up.

  Jes ducked his head. "I help him sometimes, Mother," he said.

  "Akavith has a way with wild things," said Tier.

  "Don't worry about the cost," Seraph told Lehr briskly. "If it is too dear, we can sell the horse when we no longer need it. But go now so you have the daylight - take Skew, he'll be faster than walking. In the morning we'll talk about the most likely places for Benroln's clan to be. "

  Akavith lived halfway to Leheigh. It would be dark before Lehr made it home, too late to start out on a hunt for the clan.

  Lehr took the pouch and tied it to his belt. "I'll be back as soon as I can. " He turned to Jes. "I'll tell him you told me to ask about Cornsilk. "

  After the door closed behind him, Seraph turned to Hennea. "Do you see any profit in waiting for word from Brewydd before we try anything?"

  She shook her head. "I wish I could be more help. I don't know how the damage was done or how to fix it. "

  "Standing around wringing our hands won't do anything," said Seraph. "Tier, lie on the rug beside the fire. This could take a long time, and you can't move about. Get comfortable. "

  "Can we help?" asked Rinnie. "I could make some tea or soup. "

  Seraph started to shake her head, then stopped. "It would be best if we ate first. Bread and cheese then, Rinnie. "

  "And tea," said Jes. "I'll go get water. "

  Akavith was eating dinner when Lehr knocked on the door. He stuck his head out. "Eh, you're Tier's boy," he said.

  "Yes, sir. " Akavith was a formidable man with few kind words for anyone who had fewer than four feet. But Lehr had grown up with Seraph for a mother, and it took a lot to intimidate him.

  Black eyes glowered at him from under bushy eyebrows. "What do 'ee want, lad. I've dinner to eat. "

  "I need a horse, sir. I can wait until you are finished. "

  "A horse!" He said it as if no one ever came to him for horses.

  "Yes, sir. "

  He looked out at Skew. "Got a fine horse there. "

  "Yes, sir. But I need to fetch a Traveler healer for my father, who took more hurt than we thought from his stay in Taela. I need a fast horse who can travel a distance. Skew's too old for the trip. "

  The animosity faded from Akavith's face. "Do ye' now. Tier's taken hurt? Well, that's a different matter. Go on out to the barn and look for what suits ye. I'll be there as soon as I get my boots back on. "

  The horses in Akavith's barn were a choice bunch. Lehr stopped by a tall chestnut mare with a flaxen mane. She left her hay to come to the stall door for attention.

  He leaned his forehead against her neck and drew in the sweet-salt scent of a healthy horse as he scratched gently along her cheekbone.

  Gods, he thought, I hope Brewydd can do something. His faith in the healer was enormous, but the fear in his mother's eyes made his chest tight.

  "That's a good, choice, lad," said Akavith, his voice the soft crooning one that he usually reserved for his horses.

  Lehr straightened. He usually heard people approaching, but he'd had no idea that the horse trainer was nearby.

  "I like the bay two stalls back, too," said Lehr. "And my brother told me to ask about a horse named Cornsilk. "

  "That's Cornsilk, right there, lad. And your brother has a fine eye for horses. " Akavith grabbed a halter and opened the stall door. He haltered the mare and led her out so that Lehr could get a better look.

  "She's coming five and fully trained - some of that training by your brother. I usually sell them younger than this - that bay is four and sold already. I've had offers for this mare, but. . . Ye see, lad," Akavith patted her red-gold shoulder. "Noblemen are too proud to ride a mare. They'd make her a lady's mount, trotting her from one party to another. " He frowned fiercely.
"She wouldn't be happy like that - she loves the trails and the challenge of a long run. Just don't be putting a harness on her and make her pull a plow like your father did to that Fahlarn gelding of his; Cornsilk doesn't have the bone for it. Tell your father to come see me, and I'll find him a replacement for the grey he lost, I've a few horses that should suit him. "

  "I doubt we can afford it, sir," Lehr told him, but he wasn't thinking about a new farm horse: he was falling in love.

  Out of her stall, the mare was beautiful, fine-boned like a sight-hound, and nearly as tall as Skew. Liquid dark eyes examined him with curiosity and the sweetness of a horse who'd never been mistreated. Exotically long and silky, her mane and tail were the exact color of cornsilk. Her nostrils were wide to drink the wind.

  "Tell your father, and we'll work something out," said Akavith. His craggy features relaxed a bit more, and Lehr felt as if those keen old eyes saw right through him. "Yes," he said, slapping his thigh. "You and this mare will do. "

  They bargained for a while, and Lehr knew the price they agreed on was far lower than the horse trainer would have gotten from one of those nobles who were looking for a lady's mount.

  "Don't fret," said the horse trainer. "Your brother won't let me pay him, and these past few years he's as good as my best boy with the horses. Do you have a saddle and bridle that'll fit this mare?"

  "No, sir. "

  Akavith put the mare back in the stall and led Lehr to his tack room. As he sorted through bridles, he said, "Had a man in here today from Redern. Told me Olbeck - the steward's son, do you mind him?"

  Lehr knew Olbeck, but Akavith continued speaking without waiting for an answer.

  "He killed a lad - a merchant's son, Lukeeth it was. "

  Lukeeth was one of Olbeck's sycophants, a Rederni merchant's son. Lehr hadn't known him well, nor liked what little he knew, but he hadn't wanted him dead either.

  "Storne Millerson bore witness against him, I heard. If Olbeck's father weren't the Sept's steward, Lukeeth's father would have demanded his head and gotten it, too. But all he managed was to banish Olbeck from Redern. I imagine it won't take a month for the steward to have that judgment put aside. " He spat on the floor of the stables. "Makes me glad I don't live in a town. One of my boys kills another, I take care of it. "

  "If you can't control your worries, I can do this," Hennea told Seraph as she sat beside Tier on the floor by the fireplace after they'd all eaten.

  If someone was going to muck about with Tier's Order, Seraph preferred to do it herself. She knelt beside her husband and shifted until she was as comfortable as she was going to get on the slat floor.

  When she was settled she took a couple of deep breaths and buried her fear and anger deep so that she could control her magic. Emotions made magic unreliable and dangerous.

  "I am fine," she told Hennea.

  Jes and Rinnie sat on the floor and leaned against a wall where they wouldn't interfere with anything Seraph had to do.

  "Lie down," she told Tier, who was sitting up. "And relax. "

  She began by looking. Usually an Order appeared to her like a set of transparent clothes that covered the whole body, though she knew that all Ravens didn't see the same way. Her teacher Arvage had seen small crowns of woven vines, each Order bloomed with a different color flower. Only the colors were the same for each Raven. She wondered how her old teacher would have seen the damage to Tier's Order.

  "What do you see when you look at his Order, Hennea?" she asked.

  "Light," she answered. "With areas of darkness. "

  Seraph touched Tier's chest lightly, where her magic told her one of the holes was. "I see a break here," she told Hennea.

  Hennea nodded. "That's one of the dark patches. "

  "Keep an eye on him," Seraph asked. "If you see any change at all, let me know. "

  Until this past season, Seraph would never have thought that there was anything that could alter an Order. When she'd been young, she'd tried, and she supposed that she wasn't the only one. She'd wanted to see if she could change the appearance of her Order so that any Raven who happened by would not automatically know what kind of Order Bearer she was.

  Nothing had worked. Magic had just slid off the surface of the Order without affecting it.

  Magic worked with patterns, she thought, patterns and symbolism.

  Seraph stared at Tier's Order and pulled her magic to her as if she were spinning yarn at her wheel. She felt it soft and fine, like the best lambswool as it spun itself beneath her fingertips. She saw the Order as clothing, so she'd pattern her magic after that and see if it worked.

  "Tier," she said. "Tell me if you feel anything - but most especially if something hurts. "

  "I'll do that. " His wry tone made her smile, as he'd intended it to.

  She set her yarn of magic against his Order, but her fingers sank through to touch his neck.

  "Cold," said Tier.

  "Very funny," she muttered, glaring at his uncooperative Order. Pulling her fingers away, she saw the glittering violet of her own Order, and it gave her inspiration. This time she took the end of her yarn with the lightest of touches, so light her fingers did not touch it at all, only the thin veil of Raven Order.

  She laid the thread against Tier, and this time it rested lightly on Bardic Order and, at her will, the thread she'd spun began to take on the texture and green-grey color of the Bardic Order. When she tugged lightly on the yarn, it fell away from Tier. It wouldn't merge with the Tier's Order - she'd have to weave it through. Even as she put the yarn back to lie against Tier so that it could all absorb the aspects of his Order, she had an idea of how she might be able to repair the damage.

  She hadn't darned socks or sweaters for a long time - not since she'd taught Rinnie how. Sewing had never been her favorite part of solsenti life. Travelers darned their clothing as well, but a Raven's time was too valuable to be taken up in such mundane tasks. For Tier, though, she'd have darned a patch that covered the farm with room to spare.

  When all her yarn was blended with Tier's Order she pulled it away. From magic she formed a darning egg, visualizing a hard surface rounded just right to turn the edge of her needle away from Tier's skin.

  Now all that she needed was a darning needle.

  The only thing that had been able to affect Tier's Order was her own.

  "Hennea," she said. "Would you sort through the Ordered gems and bring me one of the Lark gems? The tigereye ring, I think. " That was the one that sometimes warmed in her hand when she and Hennea were working with them.

  "You're going to try and use the gems?" Hennea's voice was neutral - a good indication of her disapproval.

  Seraph shook her head. "I'm going to see if I can persuade it to help me. "

  She heard Hennea get up, but only peripherally. Most of Seraph's attention was on what she intended to do. There was no room for doubt when she worked magic. Only utter confidence would make her magic do as she desired.

  Something small and warm was tucked into her cold hand, the ring.

  She'd chosen the Lark, because Healing seemed very close to what she was trying to do.

  Seraph thought through the problem she faced and what she needed several times, curbing her panic and her impatience as best she could. She'd begun on a third time when something sharp pierced the skin on the hand that held the gem. She looked down, and the rust-colored Order that had surrounded the gem had formed itself into the shape of a large needle.

  She thought very hard about how grateful she was as she slipped her yarn into the needle. She set the darning egg beneath the largest of the holes in the fabric of Tier's Order. She had no idea what would happen if she pierced flesh with her needle, and had no particular desire to find out.

  Carefully taking the needle in her Order-gloved hands, she used her will more than her fingers to set the needle into Tier's Order, two fingerwidths from the edge of the tear.
/>   Like a tightly knitted sweater, the threads of Bardic Order slid away from her needle without harm and the egg protected Tier from the sharp point. The ring, which she held loosely between two fingers, passed through Tier's Order as if neither were affected by the presence of the other. The needle, though, worked as well as she had hoped it might. Carefully, she pulled it back through the weaving of Tier's Order, stitching all around the hole to strengthen the edge before she began reweaving the fabric of Tier's Order with her magic.

  Hours passed, but she was absorbed in her work, painstakingly knitting Tier's Order together again. The familiar task was absorbing, and she didn't realize how tired she was until Tier's voice penetrated her concentration.

  "Seraph, listen to me. "

  "I'm not finished," she said stubbornly. There were still holes. Small holes that would turn into larger ones. She looked for her yarn, but she couldn't find any more.

  "Hennea says you can do no more. Seraph, stop. "

  The needle faded away, until she held only a ring. Dazedly, she realized Tier was holding her wrists and shaking her.

  "She's stopped," said Hennea, her voice little more than a hoarse mumble.

  "I'll get them to their beds. "

  That was Lehr. What was he doing back already?

  "Take Mother up," said Jes. "I'll get Hennea, then help you with Papa. "

  "I can get myself up," said Tier.

  Tier. Seraph slid her hand in his loosened grip until she had a hold on his arm.

  "Hennea," she said. "Can you look?" She was too tired to use any more magic.

  "It's better," the other Raven replied. "It won't hold forever, but it should give us some time. I wouldn't have thought of using the Orders that way. "

  "You haven't darned many socks," replied Seraph. She wondered briefly what her weaving had looked like to Hennea, who saw light rather than fabric. But she couldn't hold on to the question long enough to ask it. Knowing Tier was better, even if just for now, let her collapse peacefully into the soft darkness of exhaustion.

  Jes waited while Lehr picked up their mother and started up the ladder steps to his parents' loft. Then he extended his hand to his father, who got to his feet with a groan.

  "Thanks, Jes," he said. "I was wondering how I was going to do that. " He followed Lehr up the ladder steps, limping heavily.

  Hennea was leaning against the stones of the fireplace - cool now, since there was no fire burning. Her eyes were closed, but he could tell she wasn't sleeping. Rinnie was, though. There hadn't been anything to keep her awake, just the heavy scent of magic that still hung thick in the air.

  He left Hennea where she was and scooped up his little sister. As soon as he touched her, he could feel her dreams. She was flying in the night sky, with the land a dark presence far below her, dream-riding the storm winds in body as in reality she did with her mind.

  the Guardian told him, then abruptly withdrew.

  Jes's hands curled protectively around Rinnie. It bothered him, this knowledge he should not have, that the Guardian should not have. How did he know Cormorants could fly when Rinnie was the only Cormorant they had ever known? But as much as it disturbed him, the Guardian was far more frightened by it. Jes couldn't think of anything else he'd ever encountered that had frightened the Guardian.

  He carried Rinnie around the makeshift wall he and Lehr had built yesterday and laid her gently on her bed.

  The unearned knowledge was part of the change that was happening, a change that frightened both the Guardian and him. Mother was worried about it, too. He'd always talked to the Guardian, soothing him, easing the constant rage the Guardian lived with. But it wasn't until they'd caged him with the foundrael that the Guardian had spoken back.

  "She is too young to fly," Jes muttered softly. "We wouldn't be able to keep her safe. "

  The Guardian was silent, and Jes couldn't tell if he was listening, or if he'd closed himself off entirely. The latter was dangerous. When the Guardian emerged from such hibernations, he was gorged with anger, impossible to reason with.

  But there was no answer, so Jes went back to put Hennea to bed. She was in a different position than the one in which he'd left her - she'd tried to get up, he thought.

  Her hair was dark with sweat, and dark circles ringed her eyes. It looked to him as if she'd lost weight, too, as if the power she'd given Mother had come from her own flesh.

  Tenderly, he picked her up into his arms.

  claimed the Guardian.

  "If she chooses," he told the other firmly, not hiding his relief that the Guardian had not retreated. "Don't push her away. "

  "Jes?" she murmured.

  "Putting you to bed," he told her.

  Jes felt a wide smile break across his face. "He did. "

  The Guardian shared the sweet scent of her skin with him, so he let the Guardian feel how strongly she desired to rest in their arms, safe.

  He tucked her into her bed, next to Rinnie's. Like the wall, it was newly made yesterday. She was mostly asleep, and he brushed his hand lightly over her cheek because he could not resist both his desire and the Guardian's.

  She opened her eyes, pale and unfocused. "Jes," she said.

  "Yes?"

  "Remind me. Tomorrow. Maps and Colossae. It's important. For your father. "

  He felt the Guardian swell with. . . some nameless emotion at the sound of the name of the ancient city.

  "I'll remind you," Jes told her as he pushed aside a flashing vision of a city he'd never seen before.

  The strange insights frightened the Guardian. Jes could feel that fear rising up and the anger that burned the fear to ash, rage that Jes swallowed and swallowed until it hurt to breathe.

  "Jes?"

  "We should tell someone," he muttered quickly. Maybe someone could help us understand what is happening. Help us to prepare. That was it, he thought. The Guardian was afraid of something that was going to happen when he remembered too much. Something bad.

  "Tomorrow. We'll tell your mother," murmured Hennea, misunderstanding what he'd said.

  The Guardian had heard him, too. Jes could tell because the other's towering rage dulled to a sullen burn that he could better tolerate.

  Hennea subsided into sleep. Jes let himself pet her hair once before he left her to rest beside his sister and wandered out to stand in front of the fireplace.

  asked the Guardian long after Jes had expected a response.

  Mother? No, she hurts for us and feels guilty. I don't want that. Papa? Maybe Lehr. He's very smart. He deliberately didn't mention Hennea. If her worry for him was already keeping her away, he didn't want her to have anything else to worry about.

  the Guardian decided. But Jes could tell that the thought of sharing the change with someone made him feel better.