“If that’s all, why do I need Tempus?” Ashok said.
“Don’t mistake me for a spiritual guide,” Sree said. “You’ll have to work out your faith-or lack of it-by yourself.” She looked at him for a long time in thoughtful silence. “But if you’re determined to protect Ilvani in her god’s place, I may be able to help you,” she said. “You can’t join in our ritual directly, but when the time comes, speak to me again, and I will show you a way you can watch over Ilvani, if you wish.”
Her gesture of trust surprised Ashok. “I do. You have my thanks,” he said.
She chuckled. “You thank me for offering you the chance to risk your life meddling with death and dangerous magic. It’s true what folk say of the shadar-kai, isn’t it? You chase pain with mad smiles on your faces.”
“For the sake of my city and my companions-always,” Ashok said.
Ashok left the nightmare secure in the protective circle. Not far away, Skagi and Cree were still sparring, and Ashok noticed their battles had attracted a small audience of Rashemi berserkers. A part of him wanted to join them, to challenge the berserkers to a match, but instead he found himself walking off toward the pinewoods behind Reina’s hut.
He walked until the sound of voices and the ring of steel faded to a dim song in the back of his mind. He held his chain in his hands and put his back against one of the immense pines. The perpetual cold and silence plucked at his spirit, but Ashok pushed back against the oppressive feeling.
Looking up into the trees, Ashok tried to imagine Ilvani’s owls. He squinted into the dim sunlight until his vision blurred, but even then, the phantoms did not appear.
“You showed me the Tuigan soldier,” Ashok said. His anger rekindled. “I did what you wanted. The least you can do is show me her owls.”
He pushed off the tree and wandered in an aimless circle, unsure how to proceed. If Uwan were here, he would know.
“Tempus,” he said abruptly, and stopped, half-shocked to hear the god’s name come from his lips. He couldn’t take it back, so he hurried on, speaking through his anger. “If you know her at all, you know what’s at stake. Help her survive this ordeal. Let her find peace. She’s given up too much already. I’ll do what I can, but remember, I’m not doing it for you. It’s only for her.”
He put his chain back on his belt and left the wood. He was almost to the path that led up to Reina’s door when he heard a rustle in the trees. He spun, his hand on his weapon. A shower of pine needles littered the spot where he’d been standing a breath ago. The sunlight flashed in his eyes, momentarily blinding him, but in that instant Ashok thought he saw wings silhouetted against the sun. When he blinked his vision clear, he saw nothing, no bird in the sky.
The pine needles were still there.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The following day, three more masked witches arrived in Tinnir. Soon afterward, Agny came to tell them that the ritual would take place that evening. They had the day to prepare themselves.
Ashok went to see Sree a few hours before the ritual was to begin. He noticed on his way to Reina’s hut that the Rashemi berserkers gathered at the edge of the lake with the newly arrived witches. They were constructing a large raft by lashing wood planks together. The wood looked as if it had come from newly felled trees. The witches carved into the planks complex symbols similar to those Ilvani bore on her arms, readying them for the ritual, which would take place near the center of the lake. Apparently, Agny’s power was strongest on the water.
The masked women stared at Ashok as he passed, and one of them made a gesture like a ward in the air.
Sree saw him coming. She opened the door to the hut and beckoned him inside.
Herbs covered her kitchen table, staining it green and yellow. A small pot boiled over the fire, releasing fragrant vapors into the air. Ashok drew in the scent, but he didn’t recognize any of the herbs.
“Agny told me to warn you,” Sree said, “that when the warriors felled the trees for the ritual, they noticed a disturbance in the forest.”
“What kind of disturbance?” Ashok asked.
“A pair of treants-powerful fey spirits-inhabit the evergreen woods around Tinnir,” Sree explained. “Long ago our people named the larger one Tallmarrow and the smaller one Needle. They’ve protected this area for many years and have counseled the wychlaran. We made offerings, and the warriors showed the utmost care when they brought down the trees, but I’m afraid the influence of Ilvani and Elina here together in the village has affected even their ancient minds.”
“You think they’re going to seek revenge for you taking the trees?” Ashok said.
“Yes, and if they disrupt the ritual, the witches and Ilvani might perish,” Sree said.
“They have to cross the lake,” Ashok said. “We won’t let them get to you.”
Sree nodded. “Once the ritual begins, drink this potion down.” She took the lid off the pot and placed it on the hearth. Dipping a metal ladle into the boiling liquid, she poured a small amount into a metal vial. She stoppered it and handed it to Ashok.
The vial warmed his hands. Ashok held it between his palms and nodded his thanks. “How will I know if it’s worked?”
“You’ll know,” Sree said. “Whatever force threatens Ilvani, you’ll see it first, even if it’s invisible to the warriors around you.”
“I owe you a debt,” Ashok said.
Sree shook her head. She walked to the door and opened it. A rare parting in the clouds revealed a blazing sunset over the lake. Orange and purple rays struck the surface of the water and created a tapestry of moving color.
“Bhalla blesses us,” Sree said. “You should walk, shadow man, and enjoy this evening. How many like this can you claim in your lifetime?”
“None,” Ashok said. He stepped outside and let the rays turn his scarred flesh gold.
Ilvani walked with Reina along the lakeshore as the Rashemi warriors placed the finished raft on the dock. The ethran led her over to the raft and pointed at the symbols carved into the wooden planks.
“These hands on the outer edges are the hearts and minds of the villagers. The carvings bear drops of their blood, freely spilled for us. Their strength will protect us from any current that might upset the raft,” she said. “We won’t feel the motion of the water at all.” She pointed to an inner circle composed of mountain peaks and flames. “Sree’s work. Her magic will keep us anchored to our homes and our land, so none of us will go astray in the spirit realm.”
Ilvani looked at the innermost circle, composed of swirling lines. “What protection is that?”
“Agny’s,” Reina said, “and mine. We are the summoners-we will speak to Yaraella first and thus attract the attention of the evil that hunts her. Agny’s power is strongest on the water, so on water we stand. I also buried herbs in the symbols to represent the power of earth. The three of us are connected. We will face the evil without fear, as you must.”
Ilvani saw how it might go, with all the witches and their places in the circle. She saw her own spot in the center, a protected space marked with a dark carved slash like a tearing shadow. Next to it, a similar space bore a carving of a heather flower. Ilvani’s eyes narrowed.
“What is that?” she demanded, pointing to the flower.
Reina’s eyes clouded. “Elina’s place,” she said. “At Agny’s command, she will join the circle.”
“Why?”
“Why should it matter to you?” Reina said, sounding surprised. “The child is not your concern.”
“The child looks at me and sees its mother,” Ilvani said.
“I know,” Reina said. “The two of you will provide the strongest link to Yaraella.”
She still doesn’t understand, Ilvani thought. If the child dies, in her last moments she’ll look to me to protect her. She looked at her hands, those useless appendages that always failed her. She did not want to have to watch
