“So can immortals change in ways mortals can’t?”
Jade looked thoughtful. “Yes and no. Immortality doesn’t make us smarter. Experience does. We try not to make the same mistake twice, but memories fade and some memories fade faster than others. And there are always new mistakes to make.” She grimaced. “Sometimes we want to make the same mistakes. Love, for instance. In falling in love, mortals always risk great pain; for immortals that pain is guaranteed. Either love dies, or those you love do.”
A hint of bitterness had entered Jade’s voice. Auraya felt a pang of sympathy.
“Is the pain worth enduring?”
Jade smiled humorlessly. “Yes, so long as you don’t suffer too often. I’ve borne children and watched them die as well. That was even more painful, yet I’ve done it more than once.”
“So immortals can have children?”
“Of course.” Jade frowned. “Why wouldn’t we?” Then her eyes widened in realization. “The gods made you unable to conceive while you were a White, didn’t they?”
Auraya shrugged. “We couldn’t have devoted ourselves to our work if we were bearing and raising children.”
“The gods aren’t ones for recreational time, are they? Still, children would have made you vulnerable. Believe me, I know how vulnerable children can make you, if they’re used against you.”
“What happened?”
Jade shook her head. “I would rather not speak of it. Some memories are best kept buried.”
Auraya nodded and considered how she could change the subject. “Were your children sorcerers?”
“A few. Some had little Gifts at all. None became immortal. Not strong enough. I don’t think any immortal has borne an immortal child.”
“Not even if both parents were immortal?”
“I’ve not heard of any who had such a parentage.”
“Perhaps that would make the difference.”
Jade shrugged, then she turned to stare at Auraya. “Are you planning any such experiment soon? I had the impression you weren’t that enamoured of Mirar.”
Auraya frowned at the woman, wondering at the sudden change in her mood.
“No.”
“Does Mirar know about you and Chaia?” Jade asked.
“Of course not.”
“Do you intend to tell him?”
“Do you?”
Jade put down her work. “Yes. Mirar deserves to know that you don’t return his feelings.”
“He knows,” she told Jade.
“If you don’t care for him, why would you care if he knew who your lover is?”
“Was,” Auraya corrected. “Because that information is private.”
“For better or worse, it’s no longer a secret. I may as well tell him before he finds some other stupid thing to do out of love for you.”
Auraya sighed. “Tell him, then. I’d hate to take the blame for his habit of getting himself into trouble - again.”
Jade’s eyes narrowed. “You really don’t care for him, do you?”
“I loved Leiard, not Mirar.”
“He is Leiard. Leiard is part of him.”
Auraya forced herself to meet Jade’s eyes. “Leiard was never real. I can’t turn from the little I have left of my life for a made-up piece of a person buried somewhere within a man I don’t know. And after all you’ve said about love being a mistake, I don’t see why you expect me to feel any differently.”
Jade stared at Auraya for a long time, then she looked away.
“I think what infuriates me is that I agree with you,” she said in a fierce, quiet voice. “I would do the same. I think I want you to love him simply to ease my fears. If you did, you wouldn’t harm us. Instead I have to believe Mirar. He swears you will not. Fool that he is, he has never misjudged anyone in the past - not even when dazzled by love.” She raised a finger in warning. “Don’t prove him wrong.”
Auraya said nothing. Dropping her rock back into the bucket, Jade sealed the jar of white powder. She rose and placed it among her supplies, then turned to regard Auraya.
“I’m going to find us some dinner.”
After the woman had gone, the cave was oppressively silent. Auraya couldn’t help feeling she had let Jade down somehow. She is only disappointed that I don’t love Mirar, she thought. And there’s no reason I should feel guilty about that.
Looking around the cave, she sighed. I feel lonely, she realized. I wonder how Mischief is. She missed his company, his unquestioning loyalty. Why are veez like that? It’s not like attaching themselves to humans is good for their kind... except, I suppose, that they don’t have to hunt for food and have a good chance of a safe home and a warm bed... I think I just answered that question for myself.
He’d never liked it when she went away. If only she could communicate with him somehow.
I wonder... would I be able to find him through mind-skimming?
It was worth a try. Lying down on the bed, she closed her eyes and slowly settled into a dream trance. When she judged herself ready, she reached out in the direction of the Open.
Some time later she found the minds of three Siyee making their way back to their village after a successful hunt. Next she found a village, and paused to skim the mind of a female Siyee cooking a complicated meal. The woman’s hunger made Auraya notice her own.
She found several more Siyee and was relieved when she recognized the Open through a man’s eyes. Finding Mischief among the multitude of Siyee minds wouldn’t be easy. Eventually she saw her own bower through a Siyee child’s eyes and that gave her the clue she needed to find him.
Reaching toward the structure, she concentrated hard, expecting that the mind of a little creature like a veez would be somehow smaller and fainter. She sensed an animal mind focused intently on a task. Fascinated, she watched as he drew magic as easily as he drew breath, and used it to move a mechanism of some sort, then she felt the animal’s greedy satisfaction as he succeeded. He seized something edible, dragged it out of the container it had been sealed within, and began to eat.
I think Mischief may have just broken into some food container, she thought, amused. I’ve never watched him use magic...
Then something else caught at her attention. Something much closer. A voice spoke and she reeled as far stronger minds overwhelmed her senses and sent her rushing back to a place somewhere outside the cave.
:... send one of the Siyee Watchers with orders for her to meet me at the Temple. If Chaia is right, she won’t dare to disobey us.
:And if she does?
:We will all know Chaia is wrong.
The first speaker was Huan; the second took Auraya longer to recognize. As he spoke a second time she realized the voice was Saru’s.
:And he can’t stop us having her killed.
Auraya felt her blood go cold. Were they talking about her?
:He’ll still try, Huan said.
:Yes. Why do you think he’s so determined to keep her alive?
:Lust. She’s just another one of his little infatuations.
:If she was he wouldn’t think twice about casting her off as he did the others. This is different.
:In all the worst ways. She’s not some pretty doll he wants to play with, like the other girls. She’s too powerful. Huan’s voice darkened. He must have plans for her.
:Too powerful to kill?
:Not yet. Not while she is ignorant of her true strength. Which is why I do not like her vanishing into the void to treat this woman. If my suspicions are correct, that woman is no mere curer. Auraya could be learning everything we don’t want her to learn.
:You encouraged her by allowing her to learn to heal magically.
:That was meant to convince the others that she was too dangerous.
:It convinced me. What do you think would sway Lore and Yranna?
Huan was silent a moment.
:The confirmation of my suspicions. If she comes out of that void knowing what she shouldn’t, only Chaia will be opposed to
her death.
:He will be outvoted at last.
:Yes.
:And if she comes out knowing nothing?
:We will find some other way to persuade them. Eventually Auraya will defy us again. It is only a matter of time.
:And her executors?
:Let’s check...
With dizzying speed, the two minds flashed away, leaving Auraya dazed by her brief contact with them. She roused herself into full consciousness. Lying on her bed, she heard the gods’ words repeating in her mind ... encouraged her by allowing her to learn to heal magically... meant to convince the others that she was too dangerous... only Chaia will be opposed to her death.
Huan wants me dead, Auraya thought. She has since before I refused to kill Mirar! She is so determined to kill me, she will even manipulate her fellow gods to achieve her aims.
She felt a wave of nausea. It doesn’t matter that Chaia opposes her. The others will eventually outvote him. Sitting up, she stared at the wall of the cave.
The knowledge made her head spin. They would outvote him soon, because the moment she left the void the gods would know she’d learned to hide her mind, whether she actually hid it or not. It didn’t matter that she had never intended to hide her mind from them. Just learning such a thing had damned her.
Why? She felt a surge of curiosity and bitterness. Because I’m too powerful? How powerful, I wonder?
Powerful enough to frighten the gods.
She felt a thrill, but it quickly faded. I may be powerful enough to worry them, but I doubt I’m powerful enough to survive if they decide I must be killed.
Except that Mirar and Jade had both survived. If they could, she could too.
Standing up, she paced around the void and considered this. I have two choices, she decided eventually. Either I submit to the gods’ judgment and let them kill me, or I resist them. I doubt Huan or the others would take my soul when I die, but Chaia will. Would he still take it if I resist the others, and fail? Surely he wouldn’t abandon it to fade out of existence. How much defiance would he be willing to forgive?
Could she fight Huan and the other gods, and not Chaia?
I don’t want to defy Chaia, she thought. Then I must put this decision in his hands. I will fight the others or submit to death, according to his will.
The decision brought relief, but it did not completely erase the fear. Could she really submit to execution if Chaia decided she must? He won’t. And that brought her to another question. Who were the executioners Saru and Huan had spoken of?
The answer was painfully obvious: the White.
A noise interrupted her thoughts. She looked up to find Jade entering the cave carrying two girri. The woman lifted the birds high.
“We eat well tonight,” she said.
Auraya managed a smile. She wasn’t hungry any more. Her stomach was twisted in knots. Jade gave her an odd look.
“You look as though you’ve just received bad news.”
Auraya looked away. “Mind-skimming is much like mind-reading. Sometimes you find out things you wish you hadn’t.”
“Ah.” Jade dropped the birds onto the cooking stone between the beds. “Believe me, knowing too much is a familiar curse to us immortals.”
“Like knowing the secret of immortality?”
Jade’s eyes rose to meet Auraya’s, then narrowed. “No, that’s one piece of knowledge I don’t regret having.” One of her eyebrows lifted. “And it’s one you have, too. You just need to spend a little time thinking about it.”
Jade was right. The gods already considered her knowledge of magical healing to be almost as damning as knowledge of immortality. And Huan had allowed Auraya to learn magical healing in order to persuade the other gods to kill her.
“Thinking time? That’s all it takes?”
“Yes.” Jade smiled. “Consider everything Mirar taught you about healing a body with magic. All you need do is apply it to your own. Begin a constant state of renewal and you need never age or die. Mirar said you learned to heal easily; this should come just as naturally. But don’t think about it now,” she added, her tone suddenly practical. “I need you to pluck and gut these feathered darlings while I fetch some vegetables.”
The house smelled faintly of stale sweat and mold beneath the tang of cleansing herbs. Danjin started up the stairs, trying not to breathe too deeply.
Ella had hired a few rooms in a house across the road from the hospice. The condition of it couldn’t be helped. They needed to be in sight of the people passing the hospice and since the hospice was in the poor quarter most of the buildings were squalid. Ella didn’t appear to be bothered by the smell. She didn’t touch the food brought by the wife of the house’s owner, however, and Danjin took that as a warning not to be ignored. If someone who could read minds avoided eating something, it was always wise to follow suit.
Ella had assured Danjin that the owner and his wife would not gossip about their guests. Having seen the mobs that gathered outside the hospice, and heard of Dreamweaver murders, their hosts weren’t going to risk bringing any attention to themselves.
The alley behind the house was kept clear of the homeless and loiterers. Ella and Danjin arrived each day in an ordinary platten, entered the house via the rear door and for a few hours Ella sat by the window watching the people on the street below. She had seen a plan to block the hospice’s entrance in someone’s mind yesterday and managed to prevent it by stopping messages to supporters reaching their targets.
News of the most recent murder of a Dreamweaver and disappearance of his student had left her angry and disappointed. She had known and respected the Dreamweaver, though she did not remember much about his student. Danjin knew she was frustrated. They had hoped that by watching people around the hospice she would be able to prevent such crimes. Ella’s expression while watching had grown more intense since the Dreamweaver’s murder.
Reaching the top of the stairs, Danjin walked to the last door and knocked. There was a click and the door swung inward. Ella was sitting by the window as usual.
“Come in, Danjin Spear,” Ella said.
Closing the door, Danjin turned to find Ella rubbing her temples.
“You look pained, Ellareen of the White.”
She grimaced. “All this mind-reading is disorientating.” She straightened. “I have come to a few conclusions. Sit down and tell me what you think.”
He settled onto a chunky wooden chair made only slightly less uncomfortable by a few mean cushions. She looked out of the window again and her eyes narrowed. “Remember how I said that the murderer we questioned not only hated Dreamweavers, but he feared them? I’ve been looking for what people fear about the Dreamweavers. It’s been interesting. They don’t fear individual Dreamweavers, nor Dreamweavers in general. Dreamweavers have always been too few in number and lacking in influence or ambition to be a threat. What people fear is that this will change.” She looked at Danjin. “They fear that Mirar’s return will make the Dreamweavers dangerous.”
“So when this rumor dies the hospice will be safe again.”
Ella shook her head. “It won’t die. Mirar has returned.”
He stared at her in shock. Mirar, the immortal leader of the Dreamweavers, alive? Now he could understand how those who believed the rumor must feel. Who would not feel a stirring of fear at the knowledge that the legendary immortal enemy of the gods still lived? To be immortal, a sorcerer must be immensely Gifted. Juran, the most powerful of the Gods’ Chosen, had been given the task of executing Mirar. All believed he had succeeded. Had that been a lie, or had Juran been deceived?
“How did he survive?” he asked Ella.
“Mirar was buried and his body crushed, but with his healing magic he nurtured enough of himself that he was able to recover later. He suppressed his own knowledge of his true identity, and was able to hide from the gods.”
Hidden for a century. Waiting for his chance to... to what?
“Why reveal himself now?” Danjin a
sked, as much to himself as to Ella. “Did he mean to?”
Ella smiled. “No.”
“What happened?”
She looked away. “I’m not free to tell you that. Yet.”
Danjin smiled and nodded. “But there is more to tell.” He would consider that later. For now he could only give her advice based on the information she had given him. “Most people will not be sure if the rumor is true or not,” he said, thinking aloud. “Your concern is with those who believe it and hate the idea so passionately that they attack Dreamweavers and the hospice.”
She nodded. “People fear Mirar deeply. Some even fear to seek Dreamweaver help in case the one they encounter turns out to be Mirar. Perhaps we could have artisans paint pictures of him so people know that the Dreamweaver they consult is just an ordinary man.”
“The people who visit the hospice are not the people you need to be concerned with,” he pointed out. “I doubt the troublemakers would ever consider seeking Dreamweaver help. You said people feared a change in the Dreamweavers under Mirar’s influence. That is the fear that drives them to kill.”
“How can I fight that?” she asked, frowning. “I could tell them that we’ll easily be able to stop the Dreamweavers if they turn on us, but why would they believe me? If they had any faith in us they wouldn’t be attacking anyone now.”
“It helps, sometimes, to remind people they’re safe. A little reassurance now and then never goes astray.”
Her frown faded and she looked thoughtful. “Won’t it seem as if we expect the Dreamweavers to turn on us if we say we’re ready for it?”
“Maybe. Maybe it isn’t a bad thing that they’re becoming more suspicious of Dreamweavers. I might have suggested you find a way to reassure people that Mirar can’t or won’t influence Dreamweavers, but I fear that would be foolish. I expect Mirar will take control of his people again.”
Ella scowled. “He won’t live that long.”
Her confidence was both reassuring and disturbing. “I’m glad to hear it.” He paused. “And perhaps this is what people need to hear... unless there is a chance his execution will fail again.”
She looked at him, her eyes dark.
Voice of the Gods aotft-3 Page 9
