simply cast off, left lying in the mud…
'You see what I meant, don't you, Lewan?'
'What?'
'A gift from the gods,' said Talieth. 'That… thing taking your master. Had it taken Erael'len as well, all might be lost. Do you think it mere chance that the relic was left behind? I have lived too long and seen too much to believe in mere chance. You came to us for a reason, and Erael'len was given to us for a reason.'
'So Erael'len is the key your father needs?'
'I think so, yes,' said Talieth.
'Then why bring it here? You should be carrying it across the mountains or giving it to druids to guard and protect.'
'You understand keys, yes, Lewan?'
'Yes. Just because I live in the wild doesn't mean-'
'Then you understand that a key can not only open a door, it can lock it as well.'
'Oh,' said Lewan, as the realization hit him.
'Yes,' said Talieth. 'And this particular key will lock the most important portal. For I think that this portal- ancient beyond any recorded histories-predates even the Imaskari. Its original users were not those wizards, I think.'
'Druids?'
Talieth lowered the Three Hearts, letting it dangle from its necklace of leather by her side. She shrugged. 'Who knows? Druids? Perhaps the forerunners of the druids, or even the forerunners of their forerunners. Perhaps Silvanus himself, for all I know.'
Lewan closed his eyes. This was too much to take in. 'I hope you see now why we need you,' said Talieth.
'Me?'
'Chereth is beyond helping us. Even if I could reach him, he has been my father's prisoner for years. If his mind is still whole…' Talieth did not finish the thought. 'It was my hope that your master could use the Three Hearts to help us. But that'-the sudden force in her voice told Lewan she was on the verge of crying again — 'is no longer a path open to us. That leaves us with you. So tell me, Lewan, will you help us? Help us stop my father before it is too late?'
'That's why you captured me? To help you stop a madman? I'm only a novice!'
'Captured?' said Talieth. 'Lewan, please understand. You are our honored guest. If Sauk and his men were… a bit rough getting you here, well, I beg your forgiveness for that. But I must say that it was due mostly to your master's refusal to come. If he had come as we asked, Sauk wouldn't have forced him.'
Lewan opened his mouth to protest, but Talieth cut him off.
'Still,' she said, 'honored guest as you are, you must understand that the Fortress is a place of many dangers, especially now that my father has gone completely mad. He sees enemies at every corner, and many of the people who live here still serve him. We must keep your presence hidden from him at all costs. You must go nowhere unattended. Especially tonight! Do you understand?'
'Tonight? Why?'
'Tonight is a holy night for the druids, and my father intends to harness more of Chereth's power for his own purposes. I have reason to believe we are in our final days here at Sentinelspire.'
'Wait!' said Lewan. 'A holy night? What night is this? How long was I asleep?'
Talieth looked taken aback at his question. 'You slept in a fever here for two days, but Sauk said you'd been sleeping a full day before your arrival. Today is the third tenday after the spring equinox. Lewan…? Is something wrong?'
Chapter Eighteen
Lewan spent the rest of the morning and most of the early afternoon on his balcony, raking in the clear air, the scents of flowers, and the sounds of the birds. He watched a lizard hunting the tiny blue butterflies in the vines that clung to the stone next to his balcony. It made him think of Perch, and his already dark mood darkened further, a reflection of the growing gloom in the canyon. This night of all nights, surrounded by so much stone, cut off from the natural world that had so defined his life for the past several years, Lewan felt very alone.
Another storm had climbed up the mountain-a fierce one, by the look of it. Lewan could see the lightning flashing in the clouds, and the thunder came deep and low down the slopes. It would fall on the fortress before sunset.
He returned to his room, grateful for the warm light of the candles. The ashes in the hearth were cold, but more wood lay stacked in an iron rack next to the fireplace. He knelt beside it, and for the first time noticed that each of the four curves of black iron ended in the shape of a leering face, eyes wide and lips open in an almost feral grin. Who would craft such an awful thing?
The tin bucket of kindling next to the firewood was filled with shavings from apple wood. Lewan breathed in their scent as he scattered the kindling over the ashes. He chose the small birch logs next. They would burn hot and fast. Once the fire was going, he would add the cherry wood. It would burn warm and slow, and he loved the scent.
The flames were just beginning to catch in the birch logs when the door opened and Ulaan entered, carrying a platter of food. Behind her came another girl, slightly taller and dressed in a loose silk robe of blue and green. She was so like Ulaan that they could have been sisters. A bundle of fresh candles dangled from one hand, and she bore a large brass wash basin.
Seeing the platter of half-eaten food still filling the small table, Ulaan placed the new platter on the bed and turned to face Lewan. She motioned to the other girl. 'This is my sister, Bataar.'
Bataar rose from where she had placed the wash basin on the floor, then gave him a small bow, never meeting his eyes.
'The Lady Talieth said that you are feeling unhappy,' said Bataar. 'She ordered these brought to you in hopes of lifting your mood.'
She turned and clapped her hands. Thunder rumbled outside, putting a slight vibration in the floor, and four servants, each muscled as thick as a seasoned warrior, entered the room. Each pair bore a large clay pot between them. In the first pot grew a tree, a mature oak, though it was no more than the half-height of a man. In the second pot grew a full bloom of holly, a mass of dark green leaves and bright red berries. The servants placed each at the foot of the bed, bowed to Lewan and the women, then fled the room.
'Do they please you?' said Bataar.
A laugh-more exasperation than humor-escaped Lewan. Talieth had him shut in this tower, surrounded by cut and crafted stone, cut off from the natural world, and as recompense she sent him two potted plants. Was it some sort of cruel joke? When he felt his laugh turning to a sob, he clamped his jaw shut and turned his back on the women.
'The trees displease you, master?' said Bataar.
'No,' said Lewan. More thunder shook the tower, and he could smell rain on the breeze through the balcony curtains. 'No, they're fine. But I want to be alone, if you don't mind.'
'As you wish,' said Bataar. 'Lady Talieth, she warned you about tonight? About staying in your room?'
'Yes,' said Lewan, his back still to them.
He heard the women shuffle out, but one of them stopped in the doorway and said, 'Lewan?' It was Ulaan's voice.
'Yes?'
'Tonight, it would be wise to lock the door as well.'
The door closed, the first heavy drops of rain began to spatter the balcony outside, and Lewan could control his sobbing no longer.
