Oathbound

order, new-roused from their beds.

Though simple, hardly more ornate than what he had worn to the inn, the robes radiated power that Kethry could feel even without invoking mage-senses.

A half-dozen other members of his order scurried away from the convocation at the cloister door and came back wearing ceremonial garments and carrying various arcane implements. Kethry led the procession of cowled, laden priest-mages through the predawn streets at a fast trot. The night-watch took one look at the parade and respectfully stepped aside, not even bothering with hailing them.

When she got them as far as the open door of the temple, her own strength gave out, and she stopped to rest, half-collapsed against the smiling image of the rain-god. By the time she reached the inner sanctum, they had the situation well in hand. The bodies had been carried off somewhere, the obscene carvings shrouded, a good deal of the blood cleaned up, and -- most importantly -- Thalhkarsh placed under such tight arcane bindings that not even a demigod could have escaped.

'I believe I can restore what was lost to your friend,' the priest said when Kethry finally gathered up enough courage to approach him. 'But I shall need the assistance of both yourself and the kyree.'

'Certainly, anything -- but why? It will help if I know what I'm supposed to be doing.'

'You are familiar with her goddess, and as Shin'a'in adopted, She shall hear you where she might not hear me. You might think of yourself as the arrow, and myself as the bow. I can lend your wish the power to reach the Star-Eyed, but only you of all of us know Her well enough to pick Her aspect from all the other aspects of the Lady.'

'Logical -- what do I do? Warrl says -- 'whatever you want he'll do' -- '

'Just try to tell her Warrior that the bond has been broken and needs to be restored -- or Tarma may well -- '

'Die. Or go mad, which is the same thing for a Shin'a'in.'

Kethry knelt at the priest's feet on the cold marble of the desecrated temple floor, Warrl at her side. Tarma remained where she was, sunk in misery and loss so deep that she was as lost to the world around her as Thalhkarsh was.

Kethry concentrated with all her soul as the priest murmured three words and placed his hand on her head and Tarma's in blessing.

Please Lady -- please hear me, she thought in despair, watching Tarma's dead eyes. I've -- I've been less understanding than I could have been. I forgot -- because I wanted to -- that I'm all the Clan she has left.

I only thought of the freedom I thought I was losing. I don't know You, but maybe You know me --

There was no answer, and Kethry shut her eyes in mental agony. Please, hear us! Even if You don't give a damn about us, she pledged herself to You --

Foolish child.

The voice in her mind startled her; it was more like music than a voice.

I am nothing but another face of your own Lady Windborn -- how could I not know you ? Both of you have been wrong -- but you have wrought your own punishment. Now forgive yourselves as you forgive each other -- and truly be the two-made-one --

Kethry nearly fainted at the rush of pure power that passed through her; when it ebbed, she steadied herself and glanced up in surprise.

The little priest was just removing his hand from Tarma's bowed head; his brow was damp with sweat, but relief showed in the smiling line of his mouth. As Tarma looked up, Kethry saw her expression change from one of pathetic bereavement to the utter relief of one who has regained something thought gone forevermore.

A heavy burden of fear passed from Kethry's heart at the change. She closed her eyes and breathed her own prayer of thanks.

So profound was her relief that it was several moments before she realized Tarma was speaking to the priest.

'I don't know how to -- '

'Then don't thank me,' he interrupted. 'I simply re-opened what the demon had closed; my pleasure and my duty. Just as tending to the demon as she is now is my duty.'