'Yes.'
'But not he to you.'
Talsy hesitated, remembering Chanter's warning. 'Ask him.'
'That would do me no good at all, as you well know.'
She shrugged and spooned her porridge, hoping that the questions were at an end, but the old woman's eyes narrowed.
'Have you lain with him?'
Talsy gasped. 'No!'
'Don't do it,' Sheera warned. 'Take some advice from an old woman. Don't lie with a Mujar.'
'Why?'
She sighed, putting aside her bowl. 'It will break your heart. Ask Marla why she's never married, never had children. She'll explain it to you.'
'He doesn't seem to want me, anyway,' Talsy muttered, her cheeks warming with embarrassment even as she hoped that Sheera could explain why this was so.
The old woman paused, as if on the verge of telling her something, then said, 'Good, let it remain so.'
Talsy spent the day on the beach, scanning the sky for the first glimpse of the returning Mujar. That evening, when Sheera renewed the dressing on Talsy's wound, she shook her head at the puss that filled it, unaffected by her lotions and poultices.
'Those damned brigands and their dirty blades,' she muttered. 'They need only wound you, and you can die. This is the same sort of infection Kieran had.'
Talsy gritted her teeth as the seer dressed the wound again, wishing Chanter would return soon. His prolonged absence worried her.
While they were eating breakfast the following morning, an eagle soared into the camp and landed close by with a few powerful backstrokes. Talsy ran to greet him even before the wind of his transformation died. She refrained from embracing him in front of the others and contented herself with placing a hand on his chest. He smiled and patted her head, a gesture she would have thought demeaning from anyone else.
'Did you find a ship?' she demanded, impatient for good news.
He nodded, scanning the peaceful camp. 'Not much of one, but it will help. We'll have to cut trees and rebuild most of it. It's burnt to the waterline.'
Talsy's heart sank. The prospect of taking trees from the forest dismayed her. Chanter headed for the fire where Sheera and Kieran sat, their cooling breakfasts forgotten. He settled on a stool after directing a brief smile at each of them, and Sheera dished up a bowl of porridge for him. While Chanter ate, Talsy recounted the events that had occurred in his absence, the highlight of which was the fight with the thugs. At the end of the story, he inclined his head to Kieran.
'Gratitude.'
The dark-eyed warrior studied his porridge with unwonted ferocity as Talsy launched into the tale of his bungled attempt to rescue her from a bad dream. The Mujar's eyes twinkled, although he cast her a look of gentle reproof.
After Chanter called a halt to Sheera's seemingly endless supply of rather tasteless porridge, he healed their wounds and announced that he was going into the forest to speak to the Kuran. The ship, he told them, would arrive within the next few days, borne on ocean currents that he commanded. That gave them time to cure and bend the wood in readiness. According to Sheera, there was a shipwright amongst the chosen who was eager to contribute his services. To Talsy's surprise, Chanter asked Kieran to accompany them.
Talsy trotted to catch up as he headed for the forest, leaving Kieran to follow. 'Why do you want him to come?' she demanded, jerking her thumb at the black-clad warrior.
The Mujar smiled. 'He's a friend of Kuran. He'll be welcomed.'
'But we don't need him.'
'Why don't you like him?'
'He's an oaf,' she snapped.
'No he's not.'
Chanter's brusque assertion silenced her, and she followed him through the forest. He seemed certain of his destination, while Talsy was soon lost in the endless monotony of tree trunks. Dry leaves rustled under her feet, at times making the footing treacherous, for they were surprisingly slippery. The forest's haunting melody surrounded them with soft birdsong and sighing leaves. The Mujar led them to a stand of five tall, straight, silver-barked trees growing together, like a family.
Chanter stopped and raised his head, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled the forest's heady aromas. The birdsong that drifted around them in an overlay of living sound was interspersed with a woodpecker's occasional hammering, a distant vixen's bark and the faint chattering of squirrels. Without their footsteps' rustling to hide it, the forest's sounds seemed loud. He sensed the Kuran's presence all around him, high amongst the leaves and nearby in the silvery trunks. It stretched away through the vast woodland, an intrinsic part of every leaf, bud and flower.
Approaching the nearest tree, he summoned Dolana, and, in the moment of cold stillness, called forth the forest's soul. Kieran gripped his sword hilt as Dolana's icy clamp released him, and the forest groaned and sighed. Talsy shot the warrior a scathing look, and Chanter shook his head at her. A few minutes passed while the Kuran gathered, pulling in her vastness to concentrate her power around them. Kieran shifted, glancing around as the birds and woodland creatures fell silent. The gathering of a powerful Kuran filled the air with a preternatural charge, like the tension before a thunderstorm. It made Chanter’s neck hairs prickle and his scalp crawl. Talsy shivered in Dolana's growing cold, which, unlike Chanter's manifestations, built gradually, with far less power.
The trees about ten feet away parted their branches high above to let in a shaft of sunlight. Chanter turned to face the Kuran as she became visible. Within the sunbeam, tiny sparkles floated like dust motes, swaying in a gentle dance. They gathered and multiplied, swirling to form an indistinct shape. Green and gold predominated, touched with hints of pink and blue and the barest tint of silver. The glimmers coalesced into pearly eyes that glowed with joy and a shining figure suffused with soft light. It sighed with beauty and flooded the forest with an awesome, placid power.
Chanter bowed to the Kuran's swaying presence, making a complicated gesture. 'Greetings, wood sister.'
A soft, sighing voice spoke almost beyond the reach of hearing. 'Greetings, wood brother, blessed of Life. You have reason?'
'I beg a favour, sister.'
'A small one, be sure, the omens of death come.'
'Indeed,' Chanter replied.
Talsy tore her eyes from the Kuran to glance at Kieran, who frowned, as if puzzled. She turned back to the forest's soul as the Mujar spoke again.
'I need these five trees, dead.'
'Ah.' A great sigh went through the wood, making Talsy shiver again at the ethereal beauty of the soul and her silvery voice. 'A small favour, yes, an unhappy one.'
'Regret, wood sister.'
The iridescent form twisted, its pearly eyes turning to gaze through the forest. 'Death is near, the path is clear.'
Chanter waited until the Kuran faced him again. 'We three ask.'
'You three, friends all, a dear trio to Kuran.'
'Yes.'
'Beware, wood brother.'
The trees moved together again, released from the power that held them, cut off the shaft of sunlight and snuffed out the sparkles. A form remained like a faint mist, dull in the dimness, then it thinned and vanished. A sigh went through the trees, and Chanter turned to the two Truemen.
Talsy was confused. 'She didn't grant it?'
'She can't refuse a Mujar, I'm afraid. Asking was merely a courtesy.' Chanter sighed.
'So what do we do now, fetch axes and chop them down?'
