Priestess of the White

Neeran’s eyes widened and he nodded in agreement. “They also know that Leiard has been working to our mutual benefit.” He looked up at Arleej. “Which is curious in itself, isn’t it?”

She nodded. “Curious that someone with so much of Mirar in them would encourage this alliance?”

“Yes.”

“No matter what the White do about Leiard, one thing is clear.” She moved to the fireplace, where a bottle of ahm stood warming beside the hearth. “We should consider the possibility, strange as it may seem, that an alliance between Somrey and the White is what Mirar would have wanted.”

As the dark speck in the sky grew larger, Tryss watched apprehensively. Hours had passed since the time Drilli had said she would meet him. He had strapped on his new harness three times, determined he would not wait for her. Each time he had unstrapped the harness again. She had extracted a promise from him that he wouldn’t test it unless she was there to see, and he didn’t want to disappoint her.

Now, watching the approaching Siyee, he felt his pulse quicken with alternating dread and excitement. Drilli had come to observe him work many times. He had expected her to grow bored, but she just sat close by and talked endlessly. To his surprise, he liked it. Mostly she spoke of their families, or the landwalker’s alliance proposal, but often she would question him about the things he had made. Sometimes she made suggestions. Occasionally they were good.

The speck had grown into a figure now. It descended toward him and he sighed with relief as he recognized Drilli’s wing patterns. He picked up the harness and ducked his head through the loop of the neck strap, then began to secure the other bindings.

A whistle of greeting heralded her arrival. She landed gracefully and strode toward him, grinning.

“Look at you,” she said.

“You’re late,” he told her, completely failing to sound annoyed.

“I know. I’m sorry. Mother had me plucking girri for hours.” She flexed her fingers. “Are you ready?”

“Been ready for hours.”

“Let’s go, then.”

They leapt into the air together. The wind set the straps of his harness humming. It was lighter than the last, having fewer parts. The main weight hung from just below his chest, however, so he was more conscious of this harness than the last.

“Comfortable?” Drilli called.

“Bearable,” he replied.

They swooped down toward a narrow valley. Unlike the bare sides of the mountain, which were covered with only the toughest of grasses and trees, the valley was filled with vegetation and more likely to be hiding prey. As they swooped across the treetops something launched itself into the air. Drilli gave a whoop of excitement.

“Get him!” she shrieked.

It was an ark, a predatory bird more used to hovering, swooping and stunning its prey with paralyzing magic than being chased itself. It glided below them, occasionally flapping its wings.

Tryss followed it. He drew his arms together and grabbed the pipe strapped to his side, then spread his wings wide before he could fall far. Another quick movement brought the pipe to his lips. Now it was time to see if his latest adaptation proved useful.

With one end of the pipe held between his teeth, he dipped the other into the basket of tiny darts hanging below his chest. He sucked in and felt a dart lodge in the pipe. Looking up again, he saw that the ark had changed direction. He shifted his wings and pursued it.

The bird glided below, unsure what to make of its pursuers. While Siyee would happily catch and eat ark, they rarely bothered so were not familiar predators to the birds. Tryss aimed as best he could, with the pipe fixed between his teeth, then blew as hard as he was able.

And missed.

Tryss growled - the closest he could get to a curse while holding the pipe between his teeth. He bent to take another dart into the pipe, then took aim again. This time he missed by an arm’s length. Sighing, he tried once more, but at the last moment the bird dived into the protection of the trees.

Frustration coiled around him like strangling vines. He gritted his teeth and felt the pipe split. This time he did curse, and the pipe fell out of his mouth into the vegetation below.

Suddenly all he wanted to do was get rid of the contraption strapped to him. He flew toward an outcrop on one side of the valley, landed heavily, then sat down and started pulling at the harness straps. Drilli dropped onto the ground in front of him.

“Stop. Let me do that,” she said, grabbing his hands.

He wanted to push her away. Why am I so angry? Standing up, he relaxed and let her undo the bindings. Frustration and anger bled away as the pressure of them lessened, and as he found himself standing closer to her than he had ever dared.

“So what happened?” she asked as the harness slid to the ground.

He grimaced. “I missed. Then the pipe split. I... I crushed it between my teeth.”

She nodded slowly. “I can make you another, but you’ll have to get better at using it.”

“How?”

“Practice. I told you it wasn’t as easy as it looked.”

“But I have been practicing.”

“On the ground. You need to practice using it from the air. On moving targets.” She looked away and frowned. “And I think you need to build something to help support it while you’re aiming - and so if you drop it you won’t lose it.”

He stared at her, then smiled.

“I don’t know why you bother with me, Drilli.”

She looked at him, then grinned. “You’re interesting, Tryss. And clever. But a bit slow at times.”

He winced. “Slow?”

“I’ve got a question for you, Tryss. How many times should a girl mention to a boy that she hasn’t got a partner for the trei-trei before she gives up and tries someone else?”

He stared at her in surprise. She winked, took two steps back then turned and dived off the outcrop. A moment later she swooped upward on an updraft.

Shaking his head, he abandoned the harness and set off in pursuit.

11

The Temple of Arbeem was a beautiful place. Though smaller and much less spectacular than the one in Hania, there was no part of it that didn’t have a pleasing view. The front overlooked the port, and windows had been placed wherever possible to offer a glimpse of water.

Behind the Temple was a garden of many tiers. All rear windows offered a view of greenery. Auraya had been longing for the chance to explore it, but in the five days since their arrival in Somrey she hadn’t found an opportunity until now.

Mairae walked beside her.

“I’ve been thinking about Leiard,” she said quietly. “These link memories of Mirar’s don’t bother me. Maybe he has more than most Dreamweavers, but that doesn’t make him Mirar.” She chuckled. “Mirar was a flirt and a shameless seducer of women. Leiard doesn’t strike me as either.”

Auraya smiled. “No. You’re worried about what the others will think, aren’t you?”

Mairae grimaced. “Yes. Rian won’t like it, but he doesn’t stick his nose in other Whites’ business - though he’ll certainly give his opinion on the subject. Dyara will probably be alarmed and worried that Mirar will somehow still work against us through Leiard. She’ll want you to dismiss Leiard, despite all the help he’s given us.”

“And Juran?”

“I don’t know.” Mairae frowned. “Have you ever discussed Mirar with Juran?”

Auraya shook her head.