Colin ate, and then returned to rest, his face pale and drawn. At one point, Aeren thought he had a fever, his forehead shiny with sweat, although it was hard to tell with the perpetual drip of water from the cavern’s ceiling. When Siobhaen brought a cloth chilled with a chunk of ice, Colin frowned in his sleep, muttered something about a Well before slipping away again. Siobhaen shot Aeren a questioning look, but he merely shrugged.
Eraeth and Hiroun returned a day later, carrying a brace of snowy white hare, Hiroun holding his arm awkwardly at his side.
“What happened?” Aeren said as he took the meat, passing half to Siobhaen, whose nose wrinkled in distaste even though she complied.
Eraeth answered as they began preparing them for the fire. “Wolf. Larger than any wolf I’ve ever seen, and colored gray to fade into the snow. We think it could smell the blood of the hare and tracked us as we made our way back to the tunnel. It attacked last night, managed to get a hold on Hiroun before we wounded it enough so it retreated.”
At Aeren’s concerned look, Hiroun said, “It will heal.”
Eraeth nodded toward Colin. “Has he woken?”
“Briefly. Long enough to take care of the remains of the Shadow and eat. But he’s still recovering.”
“We can’t wait much longer,” Eraeth said. “Not if we want to have any hope of catching up to Vaeren and the others and retrieving the knife.”
“We don’t need to retrieve the knife.”
Hiroun started at the hoarse voice, and then everyone turned as Shaeveran raised himself to a seated position, leaning on one arm.
“What do you mean?” Eraeth barked. “Of course we need to retrieve the knife. They stole it!”
Colin shook his head, then grimaced as he pushed himself to his feet and joined them at the fire. None of the Alvritshai offered to help. “The knife is unimportant now.”
“You learned something from the Well,” Aeren stated.
Colin settled in near the fire. “Walter and the Wraiths have been busy.”
“What do you mean?” Siobhaen asked this time. “We haven’t heard or seen anything from them for nearly thirty years. Since the Winter Tree, our only reports of altercations with them have been from those who dare to venture outside the Seasonal Trees’ influence.”
“We haven’t heard from them because they’ve been working far to the east, out past the dwarren’s borders, where none of the three Seasonal Trees’ power can touch them.”
“What have they done?” Aeren asked.
Colin remained silent for a long moment, staring into the fire while Eraeth spitted one of the gutted and skinned rabbits and set it to roast over the flames. Hiroun had already done the same for one of Siobhaen’s.
“I think he’s awakened another Well,” he finally said. “And by the force of the currents in the Lifeblood, by the way it’s altering the channels, it’s large. Bigger than any of the Wells I’ve located within the lands of the three races here in New Andover. That’s why the storms over the dwarren plains and Alvritshai lands have returned, and why they seem so much more powerful so quickly. And that’s why there are lights on the tundra here when there are no reports of such lights in the Alvritshai Scripts. Whatever Walter has awakened, it’s completely upset the balance of the Lifeblood. We need to find out what he’s done and repair it if possible. The theft of the knife is nothing in comparison.”
Eraeth scowled and twisted the end of the spit viciously. Fat sizzled in the fire beneath.
“Are you certain it’s Walter?” Siobhaen asked.
“It must be. I know of no one else who would even attempt such a thing.”
The small group considered his words in silence, while the rest of the rabbit was cleaned and readied for the spit.
Finally, Aeren said, “Then we must go east, to see what Walter and the Wraiths are trying to accomplish. And to stop them.”
Colin was already shaking his head. “No. I can’t allow it. Moiran will not allow it.”
Aeren stiffened where he sat. “Moiran does not decide the fate of the Rhyssal House, or its lord.”
Colin smiled. “I’m certain she’d disagree. But it doesn’t matter. I need you in Caercaern, watching Lotaern. The knife may be unimportant, but whatever Lotaern intends to do with it isn’t. You need to remain behind to contend with him.”
“So you intend to travel east on your own?” Eraeth asked.
“If necessary.” As Eraeth drew breath to argue, he added, “But no. What Walter has done has happened on the edges of dwarren lands, and whatever he intends to do, it will affect the dwarren first. I intend to seek the dwarren’s help.”
Aeren frowned. “You would trust the dwarren over the Alvritshai, over me?”
“Not over you or Eraeth or Moiran. But over Lotaern and most of the Lords of the Evant… yes. The dwarren have accepted me since the Escarpment, and in many respects they are better equipped to deal with the Shadows and the Wraiths. Their shamans are powerful.”
“So is the Order, so are the acolytes,” Siobhaen added defensively.
Colin frowned at her, long enough that her stiffness faltered. “Perhaps. But the dwarren have made a ritual of hunting the Shadows and the Wraiths, of killing them. They form war parties called trettarus to hunt them down. If I am going to search the Wraiths out, I’d rather have the shaman-blessed dwarren warriors at my side.”
Siobhaen appeared stung by the mild rebuke, her eyes narrowing in anger.
“You can’t travel to them alone,” Aeren said. “Not in your condition. What about the humans? They have lands close to the east as well. You should contact them, see if they are willing to help.”
Colin snorted in disdain. “Those in the Provinces would not help me. I am nothing but a legend to them. No one who remembers me from the Escarpment is still alive, and those in power now are too caught up in the politics between the old continent and the new. The Feud may have ended, and the Provinces freed from the Court and the Families back home, but there are still ties binding them together. I doubt King Justinian would recognize me if I showed up in his Court, let alone trust me enough to give me aid.”
“I will accompany you to the dwarren lands, and beyond.”
Siobhaen’s announcement shocked them all, Aeren rocking back where he sat as if he’d been pushed, Eraeth merely going still with a suspicious frown.
“I thought you’d want to return to the Sanctuary,” Colin said carefully.
“After defying Vaeren? I’m not certain what kind of welcome I would get.”
“You don’t answer to Vaeren,” Eraeth said tightly. “You answer to the Chosen.”
“But Lotaern listens to Vaeren, more so than most.” Siobhaen met Eraeth’s glare and didn’t flinch.
Aeren didn’t trust her either, not after what had happened with Vaeren, and not after what he’d seen Siobhaen do in the temples as they made their way northward, but he said nothing when Colin said, “Very well.”
But he intended to have words with Colin when neither Siobhaen nor Eraeth would overhear. He didn’t like how she’d inserted herself into the group, didn’t like how intrusive it felt, no matter that she’d stayed to protect them from the sukrael. He had the entire trip back to his House lands to convince Colin to leave her behind, and to accept a contingent of Rhyssal House guards as well.
“It may be moot,” Eraeth muttered, his voice nearly a growl. “We may catch up to Vaeren and the others before we reach Gaurraenan’s halls.”
Siobhaen glanced away abruptly, but it was Colin who answered, taking one of the spits from the fire, the rabbit glistening in the light, the meat charred. The smell had permeated the area and Aeren’s stomach rumbled. Meals had been lean the last few days as they awaited Eraeth’s return.
“We won’t run into the other members of the Flame,” Colin said succinctly, then tore into the meat, hissing as the hot fat seared his fingers. He still stuffed a piece of the rabbit into his mouth.
“Why not?”
“Because Vaeren isn’t headed back to Gaurraenan’s halls. He’s headed to the chambers beneath the mountains behind Caercaern. Isn’t he, Siobhaen?”
She sat completely still, eyes narrowed at Colin, who ignored her, focusing on his meal. Hiroun had taken his own rabbit and was eating it as well, while Eraeth had rescued both his own and Aeren’s from the flames.
Finally, Siobhaen murmured, “That is true.”
