The Last of the Wilds

Rissi’s expression was a mixture of amusement and horror. “A husband? Already?”

She nodded. “I think he was trying to change the subject from landwalkers to something else.”

The boy chuckled. “I imagine he was. You haven’t stopped talking about the Pentadrians and Elai trading with landwalkers since you got back, from what I’ve heard lately.”

She frowned. “Do you think other people have heard? Do you think it would have affected their answers?”

He rolled his eyes. “Do you think about anything else?”

She straightened her back. “Not when I have the future of my kingdom to think of.”

“Don’t you play any more? Why don’t you come down to the Children’s Pool?”

She paused. “Father forbids it,” she admitted. “He doesn’t want me associating with foolish young men,” she added, keeping her expression serious.

Rissi looked away, his face reddening. “Then I should leave.”

Imi’s heart sank. She missed the company of other children. He was a boy, but at least he was closer to her age.

“You don’t have to,” she said. “I didn’t mean—”

He shook his head and moved back to the door. “I have to go. I have to go to the Warriors’ Pool.”

“Come back tomorrow,” she commanded. “I have another question for you to get the children to ask.”

He nodded. “I will, Princess. Goodbye.”

As the door closed behind him, Imi crossed her arms and sighed.

What did I do that for? Now I’m going to have to think of a good question to ask.

44

After several days travel Mirar had given up on evading the Siyee’s notice. They were diligent in their searching, and there was little chance of them failing to notice him once he reached the snow-laden slopes of the mountains, where there was no dense forest to hide him. He no longer even bothered to hide his tracks in the snow.

They did not approach him, however. Each night they disappeared into the forest below. Each morning he found them circling lazily above, watching him. He sensed no anger or conflict from the Siyee so he doubted they knew why they were tracking him.

Constantly sensing their emotions kept him on edge and he dreamed unpleasant dreams in which he was stalked by huge eyes with glowing white wings. One advantage in having the Siyee near, however, was that a change in the emotions he sensed might alert him to the approach of the White. He didn’t expect that to happen for weeks, though. Other than Auraya, the White would find it hard to reach him in these mountains.

At the first sign of dawn each day he would wake, clear his mind, then put himself into a dream trance. First he would try to find Auraya, but she never replied to his calls. She could be ignoring him. The gods could be blocking him from reaching her. Or she could be dead. Sometimes during the day the thought of the latter tortured him. If the gods killed her, he must take some of the blame.

When he could no longer bear Auraya’s silence he called to Emerahl. Now, as she replied curtly, he could tell she was still annoyed at herself for accidentally revealing her location to him the previous night.

:Yesterday was the same as the day before, she told him this morning. Except it’s swampy now. The river splits endlessly and I wasted half of yesterday discovering the branches I’d chosen were dead ends. But last night one of the swamp people approached me. He said he had a message from The Gull’s friend: “follow the blood of the earth.”

:Blood of the earth, Mirar mused. Liquid and soil. Silt from the Red Caves?

:Yes. Rather obvious, really. I had noticed that the water ranged from a filthy black to a filthy red. As soon as the sun is high enough I’ll set out again. How are you faring?

:My watchers are still watching, he told her.

:Do you think you can lose them?

:Not unless I find another forest on the other side. Then they are sure to patrol the edge of the desert and find me again. Once I have travelled far enough into the desert they won’t be able to follow. They can’t carry enough water.

:No, but neither can you. You’ll have to stop at wells or buy water from caravans. Every mortal you meet could reveal your location to the gods.

She was right.

:They must have guessed by now that I’m not going to head for the Siyee coast.

:Yes. You will have to approach the coast eventually if you are going to get to Southern Ithania.

:Which I’ll never reach if there’s a White waiting there to meet me.

:Ah, but I have thought of a way you can improve your chances there.

He felt a small thrill of hope.

:How?

:Your people. If the coastal towns are suddenly full of Dreamweavers, how much notice will anyone take of another one arriving?

It wasn’t a bad idea, but it was not without drawbacks.

:Do you have a clever idea for drawing enough Dreamweavers to the Sennon coast?

:Ask Dreamweaver Arleej to send them there.

:If I contact Arleej she will sense that I have changed. She might think me only Leiard gone mad.

:Yes. You’ll have to convince her of the truth as you did with Auraya - without revealing anything about me this time.

:Of course. But if I allow the world to know I have returned there may be consequences. If Circlians knew that the supposedly wicked sorcerer Mirar had survived his just punishment, they might turn on Dreamweavers.

:Then tell only Arleej. Tell her to give the Dreamweavers some other reason for going to the villages. It will be better if the Dreamweavers who come to your aid don’t know who they are aiding. They’ll give the game away if the White read their minds. If you are not dressed as a Dreamweaver, but as an ordinary traveller, you will attract no attention at all.

She was right. It would improve his chances considerably. He had not wanted to reveal himself to his people until he was sure it would do no harm. Arleej could be trusted to keep his return a secret. She had kept his and Auraya’s affair to herself, despite her disapproval of it.

:I think it will work. Thank you, Emerahl, he said.

:Anything for a friend.

:Anything?

:Almost anything, she amended.

:Have a nice day paddling in the swamp.

:Ha ha. Now go interrupt the sleep of a Dreamweaver.

Her mind faded from his senses. He paused a moment to reorient himself, then called out a name.

:Arleej?

It would be about the same time of day in Arbeem as it was here in Si. There was a chance Arleej was already awake, but that might not matter. She had proven herself sensitive enough to detect someone calling to her months before, when he had sought her after Juran had sent him away.

:Arleej?