been, still in that dark place, in contrast to Loskai dwarfed beside him, with his green eyes and the bright beauty of his face, Osidian seemed undeniably an angel.
'What did he say?' Harth asked Fern urgently in a half-whisper.
Desperate to undo whatever harm Osidian had done, Carnelian spoke before Fern had a chance to answer her. 'He threatens…' said Carnelian, crudely in their language, 'your destruction… if you touch us… or give us up to the Gatherer… but… Fern spoke tmthfully. I promised… we wish no hurt on you.'
Harth joined her peers in turning her gape on him.
Galewing shambled towards Carnelian, stopping at a distance. 'You
… you understand our speech?'
'Much of it,' Carnelian said, in Vulgate.
As Galewing relayed the answer to the Assembly, their unease turned to near hysteria.
Harth turned on Fern. 'You knew this?'
Fern made a grimace then nodded.
His mother rose. 'What of it? We've always known the Standing Dead have sorcery. Is a broken knowledge of our tongue so great a mystery?'
Galewing glanced at Carnelian. 'But that they should understand our tongue when even many unkith Plainsmen cannot…' He shook his head. 'Are we being fools? Perhaps Fern is right, perhaps they are a gift to us from the Skyfather.' He regarded the Assembly. 'Imagine what secrets they could teach us.'
As protests rose against Galewing, Akaisha approached Carnelian. When she was close she looked up and he saw a yearning in her eyes.
'How is it you come to speak Ochre?' she asked, quietly.
Harth grabbed her arm. 'What are you doing?'
Akaisha tore herself free. Many voices among the Elders cried out that she should be allowed to ask whatever she wanted. Akaisha gave them a nod of thanks and turned her eyes up again to look into Carnelian's.
He was moved by her need.
'Mother.' He stopped, seeing Ebeny there in her face. 'My servants
… were taken… from the Earthsky tithe.'
Akaisha shook her head. The tongues of the Plainsmen are many, yet, when you speak, your words are Ochre.'
'A woman…' Carnelian knuckled his head trying to find the words. 'A servant woman… she was… not my mother… but she was my mother.'
Akaisha's eyes were very bright. 'Her name?'
'Ebeny.'
The Plainswoman shook her head, deeply disappointed. 'No. Not that.'
Carnelian looked around trying to find something. He reached out to catch Akaisha's blanket between finger and thumb. He tugged it. 'She made blankets like this.'
Hope relit Akaisha's eyes. The same pattern?'
Carnelian looked at it carefully. 'It seems very much like I remember.'
Akaisha grabbed hold of his arm. 'Did she tell you anything about us?'
Carnelian saw the tears in the woman's eyes and desperately wanted to give her what she desired, but was too emotional to think clearly. Other women had crept up and were whispering to her. She let go of him.
'You have to leave now,' she said gently. 'Leave with this other one of your kind. Please wait outside.'
He nodded, then moved to Osidian's side and gingerly put a hand on his arm. Carnelian expected anger but Osidian seemed content to be led out. They had reached the curtain before Carnelian realized Fern was not following him. He turned and saw his friend looking very alone encircled by the Elders.
With his eyes, Carnelian asked Fern why he was not leaving with him, but the only answer Fern could give him was an angry shake of the head.
Pushing out past the curtain, Osidian let in a flood of light in which Carnelian could see nothing but Fern's back. He was reluctant to leave him with the Assembly and his accuser, Loskai, but knew he could do nothing to help him.
As Carnelian stepped out from the house of bones, the glaring brilliance of the plain forced his eyes shut. His heart was racing, his mind dazzled by the certainty the Ochre really were Ebeny's people.
THE HEARTH
Fire is the heart of living.
'Where are you going?' asked Carnelian as he saw Osidian begin to move towards the steps that led down from the Ancestor House.
Osidian half turned. 'Away from this filthy hovel.'
'Fern's mother asked us to wait here.'
Osidian's face distorted with rage. 'Since when do the Chosen obey savages?'
Carnelian saw a guard coming up the steps, looking at them uncertainly, a spear ready in his hands. When Osidian swung round, the man flinched. The spear lowered to point at Osidian's chest in reaction to him advancing on the guard. Carnelian could see the man's narrow-eyed fear and the way he was adjusting and readjusting his grip on the spear.
'Let me pass,' Osidian growled in Vulgate.
'I must stop you descending,' the man said, in Ochre, and threw a nervous glance down to where one of his companions was mounting the steps to his aid.
Osidian looked back at Carnelian. 'What did the creature say?'
'He has been commanded to bar our descent.'
'Has he indeed,' Osidian said, turning the menace of his face on the guards, both of whose spears were now questing for his throat.
'Osidian!' cried Carnelian.
Behind him the muttering of the Assembly faltered. Osidian seemed intent on throwing himself upon the guards. Carnelian saw their flint blades and how narrow were the steps, how high the fall. He lunged forward and took hold of Osidian's upper arms and pulled him back.
'Release me,' Osidian hissed as he struggled.
Carnelian held on, cursing.
'Let me go,' bellowed Osidian.
Voices were speaking behind him but Carnelian ignored them. Osidian pulled and almost broke free. For a moment Carnelian believed Osidian was going to be dashed upon the ground below.
'Do you want to die?'
Osidian sagged back into Carnelian, who embraced him. Osidian turned within the circle of his arms and looked at him with infinite sadness.
'What is there left to live for?'
Carnelian looked deep into his eyes. 'You still have me.'
He became aware of the dark faces staring and felt naked under their gaze. He did not know what tongue he and Osidian had been speaking but was certain the two guards could see the way it was between them. Osidian looked as vulnerable as a child. Carnelian became aware Galewing was regarding them from the doorway of the Ancestor House.
'He's still weak… illness… I'll look after him,' he said, in the Ochre tongue.
The Elder ducked back behind the leather curtain. His hand still clasping Osidian's arm, Carnelian's attention
