She smiled and ducked into her tent.
After Karigan’s late night, and with no duties assigned her, she slept well into the morning, the simple cot a luxury after all those nights on the ground. She’d have one more night on the cot and then it was into Blackveil, and she didn’t even want to think about what nights sleeping in the forest would be like.
When she arose, she found Trace gone already, but the Rider had fired up the little stove making the tent toasty warm. Karigan took her time, yawning and stretching, and getting ready for the day.
Finally stepping out into the world, she found no Green Riders in sight, but discovered Yates in the dining tent spooning hot porridge into his mouth.
“Where is everyone?” she asked, sitting down beside him with her own bowl.
“Alton has them all in a meeting in the tower to talk about assignments.”
“Already?”
He shrugged, and she remembered Alton had requested the help of more Riders months ago. She couldn’t blame him for being anxious to get everyone working as soon as possible.
“Lynx went off into the woods to talk to the animals or something,” Yates continued. “Too much civilization.”
“Ard?”
“Still snoring away in his tent.”
“And Estral?”
“In the tower with the others.”
Karigan sighed. She hoped they weren’t going to be in there all day, otherwise, how would she occupy herself?
“What are you up to today?”
“When Edna over there gets off breakfast shift, we’re going to enjoy each other’s company.” Yates smiled and gave a little wave to one of the cooks ladling out porridge to other latecomers. She was a pretty, petite thing.
Well, Karigan thought, there was always Condor for companionship, and she would soon be missing him, but she couldn’t help feeling rather desolate.
When she left the dining tent, she collected her riding gear and visited Condor, grooming him till his coat gleamed, brushing away winter coat that fell out by the handfuls. He bobbed his head and nickered in approval.
She then tacked him up and mounted, and rode through the encampment to the wall. Instead of heading west toward the breach, she reined Condor east. She put him through his paces, sometimes riding at an easy walk or lope, and then riding harder as the terrain allowed. All the while the wall remained unrelenting beside her. She could ride all the way to the Eastern Sea and the wall’s cold, hard facade would not change.
As she rode, she tried to remain in the present, taking conscious note of how the woods smelled, how sunlight played on the tips of evergreens. She listened to the chatter of birds and watched squirrels pursue one another around the boles of trees, oblivious to the dangers the wall protected them from. It was hard to believe that behind just a few feet of stone a whole other world existed, like a dark mirror of the one she now rode through.
Tomorrow, the equinox would bring not just balance between day and night, but spring. While this side of the wall grew brighter, enlivened by birds returning from southern regions and green growth replacing patches of snow and ice, she wondered what spring did in Blackveil, or if seasons there were irrelevant.
Whatever the case, she wanted to imprint on her mind what she might otherwise take for granted. No matter how she tried to stay in the present, however, it was impossible to prevent the noise of thoughts and concerns from filling her mind: what to do about Alton, when would the Eletians arrive, what would it do to her father if she did not survive Blackveil.
At midday she halted to eat the cold meal provided by the encampment cooks. She leaned against the wall, peeling a hard-boiled egg and watching Condor crop at the withered greenery. What would happen to Condor if she didn’t return? She expected he’d find a new Rider, just as he’d found her. It was hard imagining him partnered with someone else. It was as if he’d always been hers.
When she finished eating, there was nothing to do but turn back. As she reined Condor around, there was a fluttering above in one of the trees. A great winter owl still in its snow plumage perched on a crooked branch. It seemed to watch her without actually looking at her.
The owl nudged something deep in her mind, a hidden memory she could not grasp, and try as she would, she could not bring it to the surface. She shrugged. If it were important, it would come to her eventually.
She felt privileged to encounter such a magnificent bird on her ride, but in moments the owl itself became no more than a memory when it launched up through the branches of trees and beyond until it was out of view. Karigan let out a breath as though released from a spell.
She arrived back at the encampment just before supper. She’d taken her time on the return, as this would probably be her last ride of any length on Condor for quite a while. He seemed to sense it as well, for when she finished untacking and grooming him, he set his head on her shoulder and she wrapped her arm around his neck. He heaved a great sigh as she stroked him.
“Dale will be keeping an eye on you for me,” she told him. “So you better behave.”
He flicked his tail in a halfhearted way.
There was no way to heave horses over the wall to get them into Blackveil, plus the forest was no place for an oversized prey animal, so Karigan and her fellow Sacoridians, and presumably the Eletians, would be entering the forest on foot. There was something that felt very wrong about Green Riders being separated from their horses.
She would bid Condor her final farewell in the morning when they rode to the breach. She patted him on the shoulder, gathered her gear, and walked away.
At supper, the young Riders were as boisterous as ever. Yates was presumably with his Edna, and Lynx prowling the forest. She found Garth sitting with Ard, but no sign of Dale, Alton, or Estral.
When she joined Garth and Ard with a bowl of stew, Ard said, “Grant says we’re to be at the breach tomorrow before sunrise. I let Lynx know a while ago before he disappeared again. Told Yates at midday when his lass had to work another shift.”
Karigan nodded and blew on a spoonful of stew.
“Where were you all day?” Ard asked.
“Just riding.”
“Just riding? Where?”
“East.” For some reason it irked her that he needed to know. To her, her ride with Condor was her own business. Private.
“East, huh,” Ard grumbled. He did not press her for more, but his gaze lingered on her longer than she liked.
Soon Dale and Trace arrived, followed first by Alton, and then Estral. They talked and laughed through supper, and none of them seemed to care she’d been gone all day, if they’d even noticed. Alton was seated too far away from her to carry on a conversation. This wasn’t the place to talk about their personal matters, anyway. Too many people around.
“Still no sign of the Eletians,” Trace said. “What if they don’t come?”
Ard, who appeared to be the man with the answers, replied, “Grant says we wait a few days and if they don’t show, we return to Sacor City.”
Karigan had stated before, and still believed, that the Eletians would come. They just wouldn’t reveal themselves before they were ready.
Estral edged her way into a space on the bench between Karigan and Garth and began talking about their day.
“There were arguments about who got assigned to which tower,” she said. “For some reason no one seemed particularly eager to stay at Mad Leaf’s tower, so Alton had them draw lots.”
“So who gets Mad Leaf?” Karigan had to admit that just the name Mad Leaf wouldn’t have made her too keen on being assigned to Tower of the Trees either.
“Garth.”
Karigan laughed. No wonder he sat so quiet hunkered over his food.
“I get to stay here at Tower of the Heavens when Alton and Dale visit the others.”
“You’ll become a regular Green Rider.”
“Not very likely,” Estral said. “I’ll be busy working out that piece of music from the Silverwood book. We�
�ll see how the guardians respond to it. Music is something I can do. I’ll leave the Green Ridering to Green Riders.”
Karigan gazed anew at her friend. Estral seemed to have taken to life here at the wall, her features animated as she talked about all the work that needed to be done. Estral had loved nothing more than teaching young students at Selium, but this was something else. There was a brightness to her Karigan didn’t remember seeing before.
But now Estral turned serious. “There’s something I would like to talk to you about if we could get a private moment later.”
Karigan nodded, wondering what it could be. Estral returned her nod with a faltering smile. Soon she was called upon to sing and play as she had been the previous night. When Karigan glanced at Alton, he was deep in conversation with Dale and Captain Wallace, going over papers of some sort. She excused herself and decided she would prepare her gear for tomorrow. She would seek out both Alton and Estral later. She would learn what was on Estral’s mind, and have private words with Alton, and perhaps more if all went well.
ALONE
Trace had beaten her back to their tent and lay sprawled on her cot, her eyes unfocused and glassy as she stared unblinking in a sort of trance. She was communicating with Connly. They each were gifted with a special ability to mentally converse, even over long distances. Karigan learned that in the past it was useful to have Riders with such abilities assigned to different regiments in battle because it allowed generals in their various positions to communicate quickly with one another without revealing anything to the enemy.
She also learned it was the most intimate bond a pair of Riders could have, looking into each other’s minds. Connly’s first partner, Joy, had been slain in the course of duty and he had never completely gotten over the severing of that bond. When Trace answered the Rider call and her ability manifested, Connly resented and resisted her, but with patience and compassion, she broke down his barriers. Now they were very close, and while they might be miles and miles apart, they were probably more intimate than most couples who shared the same physical space.
Trace had said their communication involved both images and words, and Karigan wondered what it was like. A dream maybe, but not so chaotic. Did Trace see Connly as he was, probably lying on his bed like Trace and staring into nothing, or did they create for themselves a lush green field vibrant with wildflowers in which to meet?
Karigan did not know, but Trace was smiling.
Karigan unpacked and reorganized her backpack so it would rest well-balanced on her shoulders. She oiled her saber and long knife, then her boots. Her memory of Blackveil was of a wet, dank environment, and she wanted her gear made as impervious to the damp as possible.
She propped the walking cane the Weapons had given her against her pack. It would be a good companion during their journey, but of course no substitute for Condor.
She patted her pocket where she kept the moonstone, the most precious object she’d be taking with her into Blackveil—precious because it had been something of her mother’s, and because it would be pure light, the light of a silver moon, in a very dark place.
Satisfied with her preparations, she left the tent and Trace, who was still in her deep communion with Connly. It must be amazing, Karigan thought, to know you’d never be alone. Trace told her that even when she and Connly were not communicating, there was always something of his warm and gentle touch in the back of her mind.
Karigan headed out first to the dining tent, but found it mostly abandoned except for a few cooks and the astonishing spectacle of Yates scrubbing pots. Edna was there beside him, of course.
Next she followed the path to Dale’s tent, which the Rider shared with Estral. She found Dale and Captain Wallace just outside, giggling, leaning against one another.
Oh! Karigan thought. No one had mentioned the two were paired up.
“Uh, hello,” she said. “I was looking for Estral. Is she here?”
“Nope,” Dale said. “Tent’s empty, but it won’t be for long.” The two started giggling again. “Try Alton’s tent,” she suggested.
Karigan hastened off, certain she was blushing, then slowed to make sure she chose the right tent. Alton’s was slightly larger and set off from the others due to his rank as Lord-Governor D’Yer’s heir, so it was not difficult to pick it out. As she approached it, she found the walls aglow, and it occurred to her to wonder why Dale thought Estral would be there, then she wondered, why not? They seemed to get on in a friendly manner.
But as she neared the tent, she began to hear the two in conversation, and the silhouette against the tent walls began to tell the story.
The two stood together merged, as if in an embrace.
“We have to tell her,” Estral was saying. “Tonight.”
“Can’t you . . . can’t you just tell her? You’re her best friend.”
“Coward. It needs to come from both of us.”
“I’m not sure it’s a good idea on the eve of her departure ...”
“It’s better she knows the truth,” Estral said, “about how we feel about each other.”
It felt as if the earth collapsed beneath Karigan’s feet and the sky and woods fell in on her. Estral and Alton together? But she’d wanted . . . she had hoped . . .
“We’ve got to tell her now,” Estral added.
“No need,” Karigan blurted, and she ran, ran for the woods. She thought she heard them calling after her, but she kept on running, swatting branches out of her face, tripping on roots, the underbrush snagging her trousers. When she could no longer see the lights of the encampment, she stopped, breathing hard.
How could she not have seen it? Was she blind? She’d noticed how Alton’s gaze had strayed to Estral the other night while Estral performed, but she’d thought he was just enjoying the music.
“Damnation,” she muttered, and she wilted onto a rock and sat with her head in her hands.
What had she expected? Alton to come hither at her least desire? But the letters . . . It was her own fault. She’d been disturbed by how much he’d seemed to want her, but now that he was taken? And by her best friend, no less?
She had little right to be angry, she realized, because she had put Alton off time and again, kept him at arm’s-length, told him she just wanted to be friends, but now she was stunned by the hurt of it, the betrayal. Not just Alton’s betrayal, but Estral’s.
She laughed. It was a hard sound. Trace had Connly, Yates had his cook, Dale had her captain, and now Alton had her friend. Who did that leave for her?
Who would care if she never returned from Blackveil? Her father and aunts would, but it wasn’t the same. What of King Zachary? He’d probably be relieved. He’d be able to move freely into the life he must begin with Estora without lingering thoughts of Karigan distracting him.
Karigan wouldn’t even have her horse soon.
She squeezed her eyes shut, now angry at herself for her self-pity, but she’d never felt more alone. The king could never be hers, and now Alton was out of reach. It was times like this she wished for her mother’s understanding and embrace.
She did not have her mother, but she had her mother’s moonstone. She removed it from her pocket and it suffused the space around her with the essence of a silver moon come to rest on Earth.
As if in answer, others blinked into bright life around her.
A glaring form of white stepped from the trees to stand before her. When Karigan’s eyes adjusted to the intensity, the form resolved into that of an Eletian clad in white armor.
ESTRAL AND ALTON
“ Grae,” Karigan murmured.
“ Galadheon,” the Eletian responded.
She was as Karigan remembered, flaxen hair bound in looping braids, snowy white feathers woven into them. Karigan became conscious of others closing around her. She stood slowly, guardedly, all too aware she carried no weapons. There had been those among the Eletians who wanted her dead. Were they here now?
Another Eletian she recognized
, Telagioth, stepped up beside Grae. “You may call her Graelalea now,” he said.
“I have earned the passage,” Graelalea said.
Karigan must have looked so blank that the Eletian smiled. “Even among your people your names are altered through rites, are they not? Such as when a man and woman are partnered?”
“Yes,” Karigan said. However, at the moment she did not care what Grae or Graelalea called herself or why. “You’ve come . . . you’ve come to go into Blackveil tomorrow.”
Graelalea nodded, and to Karigan, the prospect of that journey was now made very real.
“We saw the light of the muna’riel,” Telagioth said. “We came to investigate what another Eletian might be doing here, only to find you.”
“Sorry to disappoint you.”
“We are not disappointed,” Graelalea said,“but surprised.”
“You should not have it,” a new Eletian said in an accusing tone.
Karigan glanced at him. His hair was like fine strands of gold, and in some way he seemed younger to her, less wise in years than other Eletians she had met.
“Lhean,” Graelalea said, “the Galadheon has possessed a muna’riel before. Gifts of such are not unknown. Just rare.” The Eletian’s gaze fell unwaveringly on Karigan. “The first one that came into your possession was destroyed. But this one? How did you acquire a second?”
“It came to me from my mother,” Karigan said. “I don’t know how she got it.”
Something changed in Graelalea’s regard. She murmured softly, almost imperceptibly in Eletian, her hand caressing the light emitting from the moonstone. “It is a precious thing,” she said. “The gift of a muna’riel to one who is not Eletian is singular. The gift of two is unheard of and signifies something greater.”
“But they did not come to me from Eletians.”
“Perhaps not,” Graelalea said, “but that does not mean they were not meant to find you. It is not coincidence. You are Laurelyn-touched.”
Blackveil: Book Four of Green Rider Page 34
