pointed out that what I cannot anticipate, I cannot personally guard against, either.' His own face grew paler as he looked solemnly into An'desha's eyes. 'For the first time in my life, I cannot be sure that I can guard myself from harm. That is—very unsettling. Even when wrestling the power of a renegade Heartstone I did not have such a sense of mortality as I do now. It makes me unsure.'
Oh, most lovely. Now what?
'But if that is true, then it is also true that things I had assumed—things regarding you—might also be incorrect.' He sighed. 'So, now, at long last, I am listening to you. And I am asking you; what do you think we, together, should do?'
Run away! his cowardly inner self said. But he swallowed, took a steadying breath, and said, a bit shakily, 'You must help me with those memories of lives that Falconsbane had before he took my body. We must go farther than I have dared to.'
If only the Avatars would come again, he thought, stifling fear, as Firesong nodded his agreement. They knew what it is I am floundering about in search of—
Or did they? In all their warnings, they had seemed to bear a sense of frustration that they could not explain themselves clearly. Perhaps even they did not know. They were very near to the flesh- and-blood bodies they had once worn, after all, and in fact, Tre'valen and Dawnfire were not technically 'dead' at all as they had explained it to him. That was why they had been able to help him, so far from the Plains and the Hills, and out of the range of the Star-Eyed's influence.
They are likely back where they might do some good, doing—whatever it is that Avatars do. Perhaps they are aiding the Kal'enedral, the Swordsworn. I do not think they have the power to aid me now.
But Firesong did. As frightening and as perilous as it might be to invoke anything connected with the creature that had once possessed his body, An'desha could not in conscience see any other choice.
'Perhaps we should begin tonight?' he suggested timidly.
Firesong nodded gravely. 'I think it would be best, ke'chara. Before we both lose our nerve.'
Ah, but mine is already lost, An'desha thought, yet he did not protest as Firesong helped him to his feet, and led him to their heavily-shielded circle in the garden where all An'desha's rumblings at magic took place. But perhaps—perhaps now I can find new bravery....
Eleven
'So—there was nothing left of the False One?' An'desha had listened, completely enthralled, to Karal's tale of how the Son of the Sun came to power. There was something oddly comforting in the notion that there were other peoples whose deities tended to express themselves as directly as the Star-Eyed did. More directly, in fact, although An'desha could not even begin to envision how a false prophet could ever set himself up as sole authority to the Shin'a'in, much less how an entire succession of them could have. The Star-Eyed would have been much more likely to have arranged for the first fool to be eaten by something large and predatory before he ever became a problem.
'Nothing. Just a pile of smoldering ashes.' Karal nodded. 'It was quite—ah—daunting. It made me certain that I never wanted to find myself receiving the Sunlord's direct regard. I will be quite happy to remain in obscurity!'
'I can well understand that,' An'desha replied. 'The Star-Eyed is—a little more subtle.' That may be the understatement of the century. Kal'enel is not inclined to strike people dead with lightning even at Her angriest.
The serene little indoor garden had become their meeting place; they were reasonably certain of being left alone there, and since An'desha and Firesong already practiced all magic there, it was one place where An'desha felt relatively confident. And no matter what the weather—which continued to be uncertain—it was always balmy summer in this miniature Vale.
He noted that Karal was no longer wincing whenever he mentioned the Shin'a'in Goddess, and his dark eyes no longer clouded with unease. Poor Karal. He was so shocked at first to learn that Vkandis might not be the One True God.
'But then again,' An'desha continued with a shrug. 'She and He are both gods so who are we to say what they will and will not do? For all that I was touched by the Star-Eyed's own hand, I am still hardly qualified to judge Her or Her probable actions.'
Karal coughed politely. An'desha took the hint.
'Speaking of probable actions—I spoke with Ulrich about you.' Karal waited for An'desha's reaction.
His reaction would have been enthusiastic enough to satisfy anyone. Excitement sent a chill along his arms.
