inevitable, she wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and moved closer to the warmth of the flames.
As she sat there, she began to understand Sagesse's wisdom. Without friends and servants, without a tent to shelter her, she would realize her small part in the universe, contemplate fate, and be ready for the Seer's advice.
Through the wind, she heard the distant howl of wolves grow closer. The horses whinnied in fear With one hand on the hilt of the knife she carried, Marishka reached out to wake Kashi. As she did, the sounds stopped. Marishka froze and listened, her eyes straining to distinguish reality from shadows and from phantasms born of her fear. The grasses on the edge of their sandy clearing rustled, a discordant noise amid the steady whisper of the wind.
'Who's there?' Marishka called.
Eyes glowed in the firelight and a white wolf stepped into the dancing glow.
Marishka pulled a burning branch from the fire. With it in one hand and her knife in the other, she pulled off her cape and moved between the animal and their horses. She took the wide-legged stance she'd seen her brother use in his training. 'Go!' she ordered, and though she was terrified, she advanced on it. 'Shoo! Go away!'
It stood its ground, head cocked, seeming to appraise her with a calm intelligence and a feral longing that made her heart beat even harder.
She glanced down for a moment and kicked at Kashi. When she looked back, the wolf was gone, and in its place, crouched low against the sand, was a naked young man no older than her brother. His hair was white, his skin tinged silver in the moonlight, and his colorless eyes were the eyes of the wolf. He might have been solid and alive, yet there was something strange in his form, as if his image had been painted in the air. She looked down at the ground. His body threw no shadow.
Until now she had never believed in werebeasts, let alone the ghosts of them. She'd paid little attention to the legends concerning them but knew that black ones foreshadowed plague and disasters. The silver were the harbingers of sudden, violent death, and in wolf form were the guardians of the ghosts of the victims.
'Go!' Marishka exclaimed again, certain the creature could see her terror, hear it, smell it.
'Why?' he asked, the sound soft, almost one with the breeze.
'I am on pilgrimage to the Seer. Will you honor this?'
A terrible look of regret fell across the youth's face. 'I must, at least for now, though you'll be mine soon enough. I smell the reek of death on you already,' he replied and turned away from her. His form stretched and flowed from man to wolf, then vanished into the shadows, the night.
Marishka sank beside the fire and shuddered with fear and doubt. What was she doing here? Did she honestly think the advice of the Seer would alter anyone's plans for her future?
The thought was so troubling that she did not sleep at all that night, or the next. By the time she and Kashi reached the footpath leading up the mountain to Sagesse's cave, Marishka wondered where she'd find the strength to make the climb. Though Kashi's steady arms would have been welcome, Marishka had to go alone. No one was allowed to hear the Seer's advice but the petitioner. She looked up at the winding path, the cave itself shrouded in dense clouds. After so many days of riding, her journey was almost over. She sighed with weariness and began the climb.
It seemed that her strength increased with each step. Perhaps hope caused this; perhaps magic. No matter, Marishka's spirits lifted. The climb would be easy, and then she could go home.
Then she stepped into the clouds. Engulfed in a glowing mass of white, she lost sight of the trail before or behind, lost all sense of the future or even the present. Only the past was real and all around her. Inexplicable before, it stood out now with new clarity.
She saw her mother die, her beautiful face twisted with agony at the end. She saw her father's grief change him from a man who looked after his subjects into a tyrant, hated by all save those close to him. She saw Peto's resignation as he raised his sword, his remorse as he looked down at her crying over her father's body, the kindness he had shown to even her sister.
No, she could not hate him; nor could she listen to Ilsabet's warnings, fueled as they were by her terrible need for vengeance.
'Peto,' she whispered and fell to her knees. In spite of her heavy boots and leggings, the stones in the path cut into her, the physical pain as painful as the choices she had to make.
But the first and the most important had already been made. She'd come here, and the Seer was near.
Afraid to stand, she crawled upward, out of the mist. Though the mountainside fell off to her left, the path was widening and the cave opening was just above her. With her cloak pressed tightly to her body by the unceasing wind, she finished the climb.
There was no sign of life outside the cave. She stepped into its mouth and let her eyes become accustomed to the darkness. When she did, she saw a flickering light coming from farther in.
'Sagesse?' she called. 'I have come to ask your advice.'
No response. Marishka went on as the light grew brighter, seeing finally the source, a huge cavern just ahead. At the edge of it stood a great polished slab of granite, on which sat empty cups and plates, a sharp knife with a roughly carved hilt, and an unbleached woolen blanket.
She had brought gold for an offering. She laid it there, but it looked silly beside the more practical things that someone living alone might need. She unfastened the gilded clasp of her thick blue cloak and laid it beside the other offerings.
'Come forward to the pool,' a voice called.
Marishka walked forward, but it was only when she stood on the very edge of the milky water that she saw an old woman sitting on a rock just to her left.
Her hair was white, long and soft, hanging in thin wavy strands over her shoulders. Her gown was also white. Her skin was just as pale, parchment-thin with age but unblemished. Marishka wondered if she ever sat outside in the sun or if this cave-the source of her power, it was rumored-was also her prison.
'Marishka Obour, you would see your future?' Seeing her shock, Sagesse laughed, not the cackle of some old crone, but the beautiful voice of a woman who has known decades of wisdom. 'I know your name because I shared your vision. Even without it, I might have known you. Visitors have spoken often of the beauty of your face and hair. Come, sit beside me, and we will seek your fate together.'
Marishka did as the woman asked, and stared into the milky waters of the pool. Afternoon turned to evening. The light that shone on them from some hidden place far above changed from white to pink to mauve and slowly faded. Sagesse lit torches, and they stared into the pool, waiting for some great revelation.
'There is nothing,' Sagesse finally declared.
Marishka shuddered. 'What does it mean?' she asked.
'I believe that your future was decided in the moment your father died. No matter what your course, you cannot change it.' She took Marishka's hand, holding it as she added, 'It may mean something else as well-you will not live a long life. But at least you may do as you like and take comfort from the happiness you find in what is left of it. Now go, your companion is growing anxious.'
Marishka turned to leave. At the edge of the cavern, she turned back and saw that Sagesse had vanished as mysteriously as she had appeared.
As Marishka walked down the path, she saw extra horses tethered beside their camp, and the dark forms of men against the flames. If there had been another way down, Marishka might have considered fleeing, but with no choice but to face them, she put her hand on the hilt of her knife and went more quickly on.
As she moved closer, she saw the black-and-gold livery of Sundell and Baron Peto waiting for her.
'They told me I must not follow you to the cave,' he said, then held out his hand as if uncertain she would take it. When she did, he moved closer to her, pulled the cloak off his shoulders, and wrapped her in it. It smelled of smoke from the fire and of sweat from his long ride. 'Can you share what you learned?' he asked.
She shook her head. 'The Seer said that I should follow my heart.'
She tilted her head up for him to kiss her. As he did, she felt such a terrible presentiment of doom that she wondered if Sagesse had lied, then shuddered at the sacrilege of even the thought.
'Is it possible for me to go up?' Peto asked.
'I'm sorry, but you must come here seeking her, and travel as any common man would.'
He seemed to consider. 'She has already answered the question I would have asked. Now we must
