Priestess of the White

Suddenly Leiard had control of himself again. He gasped and raised shaking hands to his face.

“You’re back!” Arleej exclaimed. “I did speak your name,” she added thoughtfully.

“If that is how it works then please don’t speak his name again,” Leiard choked out.

She patted his knee apologetically. “I won’t. I’m sorry.” She paused. “What are you doing, Leiard? The risks you’re taking—”

“Are small,” he finished, taking his hands from his face. “When this war is over, I will retreat to an isolated place. No one need ever know about us.”

“No one? Mirar is right. The gods must know. He may be right about them waiting for the right time to retaliate. You... you have a duty to protect your people. You should end this affair, Leiard.”

Leiard looked away. “I know. When I’m with her, I can’t even think of it.”

Slowly Arleej’s expression softened. She leaned back in her seat and sighed.

“Oh, that’s love all right.”

She stared ahead, her forehead deeply creased. Leiard watched her closely. What would she do? Would she tackle Auraya? Would she order him to stop seeing Auraya?

Would you obey her? Mirar asked.

Probably not, Leiard admitted. If she wants me to leave now, I will.

“I don’t know what to do with you,” Arleej said softly, without looking at him. “I must think on it for a while. From now on we will not camp as close to the army as we have in the past. I would rather it was a considerable inconvenience for the White to visit us. If Auraya comes... I will not interfere. I will do all I can to ensure this secret remains undiscovered.”

“Thank you,” Leiard murmured.

Her gaze shifted to his. “I will do this thinking better alone.”

He nodded, then, feeling like a chastised child, climbed down from the tarn and made his way back to Jayim.

38

Auraya fastened her circ and walked back to where Leiard was still rolled up in blankets on the floor. She smiled down at him. He smiled back and she felt his hand grab her ankle.

His thoughts were wistful. He wished that she could stay longer - that she would be here when he woke up in the morning. He knew they couldn’t risk that.

Everyone here believes these quick visits in the middle of the night are merely official business, she heard him think, undertaken late because she’s too busy or because we don’t want the new adviser knowing she’s still consulting me. He sighed and thought of Arleej. Everyone believes that but two.

Auraya frowned. His smile faded as he realized she’d read his mind. She felt him let go of her ankle.

“Arleej knows about us,” she said.

“Yes.”

Auraya chewed on her lip. This could prove awkward. Someone in such a high position in Somrey and among Dreamweavers was likely to meet one of the other White at some time. One stray thought from Arleej and their affair would be discovered.

“We can trust her not to say anything.”

Auraya looked at him closely. “You aren’t entirely sure of that.”

He frowned and sat up, the blankets falling from his bare shoulders.

“She is concerned about Mirar’s presence in my mind.”

“The link memories?” Auraya shrugged. “Why?”

He hesitated. “You haven’t noticed...” He looked away and frowned. “He remains silent when you are here.”

Auraya shook her head. Leiard wasn’t making much sense. “He?”

“Mirar, or the echo of his personality in my mind. He speaks to me sometimes. Occasionally he has... spoken through me.”

Looking closer, she began to understand. Sometimes this manifestation of Mirar’s memories had spoken using Leiard’s voice. He had found it disturbing, understandably. He was afraid she would be repelled by it.

“I have always managed to regain control,” he assured her.

“I see. I can understand why that would worry you, but why does it concern Arleej? I would have thought she’d be happy to have this link with your former leader.”

“It’s just that...” He paused. “It doesn’t bother you?” he asked hesitantly.

Auraya shrugged. “They’re only memories. They’ve been quite useful to me, actually. What you told me about the Siyee was invaluable.”

He looked away and she sensed he was still troubled.

“It bothers me,” he said. “He doesn’t like us together. He says we endanger my people.”

Auraya felt a small stab of hurt. A part of him didn’t want her. That’s not entirely true, she told herself. These memory links are from a man who hated and feared the gods and who was killed by Juran at the gods’ bidding. Of course I spark an echo of fear in his mind.

“I don’t agree with him,” Leiard said.

“So you argue with him?”

He looked at her in surprise. “Yes. But... not when you’re here.”

She smiled, relieved. “Then I am good for you.”

His lips curled up at the corners. “Yes.”

Yet she sensed a hesitation. She looked deeper and understood. To give in to this other personality would also bring peace. It was tempting, sometimes. She sat down and wound her arms around him.

“We’ll fight him together then. I’ll help you any way I can. When this war is over,” she added. “Can you wait that long?”

He ran his fingers through her hair. “I’d wait centuries for a moment with you.”

She grinned. “There you go, getting all romantic on me again. You’ll only have to wait a day, not centuries. I’ll be back tomorrow night.”

She leaned forward and kissed him. His lips were warm. Pleasant memories rose. She wanted to touch him, but resisted. Instead she pulled away and stood up.

“You had better get dressed and see me out.”

He pouted, then grinned and threw off the blankets. Naked, he began to gather his clothes from the floor. She watched him dress. There was something both fascinating and sobering about this reclothing. As if he was putting on an identity at the same time. When he had finished, he ushered her to the entrance like a respectful and attentive host.

“It was pleasant meeting with you again, Auraya of the White,” he said formally.

She nodded. “As always, I hope. Give Dreamweaver Elder Arleej my assurances.”

“I will.”

He held open the tent flap and she stepped outside. Lamplight from within spilled out, illuminating the dark shapes of other tents. Then the flap closed and all was darkness.

She looked up at the sky, then concentrated on the world around her. It was so easy now. She drew magic and moved herself upward.

Cold wind ruffled her hair. A few strands, wet from a quick wash in a basin of water, chilled her neck. She dried them with magic. Rising higher, she saw lights in the distance. The army camp.

Were there more lights than usual, or was she imagining it?

Drawing more magic, she created a shield to protect her body from the wind and sent herself speeding