Priestess of the White

awake and impossible to reach with a dream link. She might sense him seeking her, however. Sometimes powerfully Gifted Dreamweavers could, if there were no other distractions. Leiard dismounted and led the arem to the side of the road where a large, elongated boulder stood on its end. Numbers had been carved into the surface. These markers were a new feature of the east-west road, placed there by the Circlians at intervals of roughly a day’s march.

Sitting with his back to the rock, he closed his eyes and willed himself into a dream trance. It was not hard, since he felt as if he hadn’t slept in days.

We haven’t.

Quiet!

Leiard slowed his breathing and sought a familiar mind.

:Arleej?

He waited, then called again. After the third call he heard a faint reply.

:Leiard? Is that you?

:Yes, it is me.

:You sound different. This is you - not Mirar?

:Yes, it is me. Is Jayim with you?

:Yes.

He sighed with relief.

:Where are you? he asked.

:On the east-west road. We’re backtracking. Raeli says the Pentadrians have been seen emerging from mines on this side of the mountains. The Circlian army is hurrying back to confront them. Where are you?

:The east - west mad. I doubt I overtook you, so you’re probably heading toward me. I’ll wait here for you.

:Good. Jayim will be glad to see you.

Leiard opened his eyes. He rose and led the arem on to a place where he could see the road ahead, then sat down again. His stomach rumbled with hunger, but he was too tired to get up and see if the arem was carrying any food.

How long has passed since I let you take control? he asked Mirar.

A day and a half.

What did you do in all that time?

You don’t want to know - though in truth I mostly searched for Jayim.

Leiard sighed. You’re right. I don’t want to know.

He let the arem’s lead-rope go. It took the opportunity to graze. Carrying a rider was easier for the beasts than hauling a well-laden tarn. So long as they had plenty of water and a bit of grass to eat by the side of the road each night they could be ridden for days at a steady pace. Leiard examined the beast critically. She wasn’t ill or injured. Mirar had not abused her.

Though all he wanted to do was lie down and sleep, Leiard stood up and tended to his mount.

The sun had climbed higher in the sky by the time the Dreamweavers appeared. Arleej, as always, was driving the lead tarn. Leiard mounted the arem and waited.

“Dreamweaver Leiard,” Arleej said as she drew close. “I’m glad you have returned to us. It saves us the trouble of finding you later.”

“It is good to see you again, Dreamweaver Elder,” he replied. “Surely you would not have come looking for me?”

As the tarn reached him he directed the arem to walk beside it. Arleej looked at him critically.

“After what Jayim told me? Definitely.” She frowned. “You look tired. Have you slept? Eaten?”

He grimaced. “Not for a while, I think. I do not recall anything of the last day and a half.”

“Then Jayim was right. Mirar did take control of you.”

“He worked that out?”

“Yes. He was afraid it might be permanent and came back to us for help. Which put me in a difficult situation. Should I search for you or fulfil my duty as a healer?”

“You made the right choice.”

“Jayim did not think so.” She glanced at him. “The Circlian army is racing down the road behind us. We must get out of their way and still manage to remain close enough to be of help. I would never have thought anyone could find their way under the mountains.”

Leiard shrugged. “It has been done before. The way is not all underground. Mines lead to limestone caves, which lead to hidden valleys used for grazing by gowt-herders. There is another old mine on this side of the mountains, though last I heard the entrance had caved in. Nothing a powerful sorcerer couldn’t unblock, however.”

Arleej stared at him, then shook her head. “If you had not resigned from your position, you would have been part of the war council. They discussed the possibility that the Pentadrians might follow the old mines under the mountains. You could have warned them of this.”

“If I’d warned them, would they have believed me?”

The corners of her mouth twitched upward. “Auraya would have.”

“You haven’t mentioned them discussing this before.”

Arleej frowned. “Raeli told us of it two nights ago. The night you left.”

“So if Juran had not sent me away, I would have told you it was possible, and you would have warned Raeli, and the White could have disbelieved her instead.”

Arleej threw back her head and laughed. “I will have to point this out to Juran one day.” She looked thoughtful. “That is what I will do if Juran learns you returned to us and protests.”

“I can’t stay, Arleej.”

She gave him a serious, determined look. “You must stay with us, Leiard. What is happening to you is unnatural and dangerous. Only we can help you. I intend to take you back to Somrey with me when this foolish war is over. I doubt Juran will object to having a large stretch of sea between you and Auraya.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Will you agree to that?”

Leiard looked away. What she wanted was much more sensible than running blindly with no destination in mind. Surely Mirar would see that. He felt a sudden rush of gratitude to Arleej and turned to meet her gaze.

“It seems the more I try to leave, the more reasons I find to stay. Thank you, Dreamweaver Elder. I will remain with you.”

She looked relieved. “Good. Now go back and see to your student. He’s been worried about you.”

“Jade.”

The voice brought Emerahl out of a deep sleep. A sleep her body surfaced from reluctantly. She scowled with annoyance, drew in a breath and opened her eyes.

Rozea was leaning over her, smiling.

“Quickly. Sit up. I’ve sent the servants for some things. We’ve got to get you presentable.”

Emerahl sat up and rubbed her eyes. The tarn was motionless. “Presentable? Why?”

“The army is coming. It’ll pass us at any moment. It’s the perfect opportunity to show you girls off. Come on. Wake yourself up. You look terrible.”

The flap of the tarn opened and a servant passed Rozea a bowl of water, a towel and Emerahl’s box of grooming tools, paints and ointments. Emerahl could see that the caravan had pulled over to the side of the road. Then she noticed a rhythmic sound in the distance. The sound of many, many feet marching to the pace of drums.

“The army? Coming back?” Emerahl’s heart skipped as the full meaning of Rozea’s words came to her. The army was returning from the pass. For Rozea this was an opportunity to put her wares on display that was too good to miss. For Emerahl, being put into the sight of hundreds of priests could be disastrous.

“Yes,” Rozea said. “They’re coming back down the road. I don’t know why. We’ll find out when they get here, which will be in a matter of moments. Tidy yourself up. I’m going to see to the other girls. I’ll send a servant