Voice of the Gods

:You are and yet you are not. This is how the Dreamweavers communicate.

:A dream-link?

:Yes.

He paused and she felt both concern and guilt.

:I’m not supposed to talk to you.

A chill ran down Auraya’s spine.

:Why? Do the White believe I’ve changed sides?

:They... have to consider it a possibility. They haven’t heard from you in weeks.

:I can’t reach them. I was tricked. Nekaun has imprisoned me inside a... She paused as she realized Danjin didn’t know what a void was. Did the White know what voids were? She hadn’t until she’d met Jade.

:Auraya? Danjin asked, his tone full of concern.

:Nekaun took away my priest ring. I’ve tried to dream-link with Juran and the others but it doesn’t work. Maybe because they’re never asleep when I try; maybe because they can’t... or I’m being prevented. I need you to tell Juran I’m a prisoner.

Danjin didn’t reply.

:Danjin?

:Yes. I’m... not near Juran. I’ll tell Ella and she’ll pass it on.

She sensed wariness.

:You are not sure if you can believe me, she stated.

:No, he admitted. The White advised me to be careful.

She felt a stab of hurt, then annoyance.

:Then tell them carefully. It’s up to them to decide if they believe me or not.

:I want to believe you. I do believe you. He sounded tortured. I will believe you until I have evidence otherwise, but I must behave as if I don’t believe you until I have evidence otherwise.

And he wasn’t liking it much. Ah, Danjin, she thought. I miss you.

:I understand. Thank you, Danjin.

Breaking the link, she roused herself to full consciousness, looked around the hall and sighed.

Well, Chaia did warn me that Huan would use those I love against me.

The large, tiled room echoed with the chatter of Voices, Companions, Servants and Thinkers. Standing beside Imenja, Reivan looked down at the floor. The mosaic map glinted softly, reflecting the light of lamps brought in to supplement what daylight reached the room from the entrance. Pottery figurines of Pentadrians and Circlians had been placed on the floor. They looked like toys left behind by a child. A rich child, too, as the figurines were finely detailed. Reivan saw that there were little Siyee men among the Circlians. Unlike the winged people depicted in the mosaic, they were accurately represented right down to the bones visible within the membranes of their wings.

“Nekaun comes,” a voice murmured from the direction of the entrance.

All fell silent and turned to wait. As Nekaun stepped into the room many hands sketched the symbol of the star. A strange expression was on Nekaun’s face, but it vanished at the greeting. He looked around the room, meeting gazes and nodding.

“Forgive me for my lateness,” he said. “Another matter delayed me.” He moved to the edge of the map and looked down at the Circlian figurines. “Is this where the enemy army is?”

“According to our spies,” Dedicated Servant Meroen replied. The man was only in his thirties, but had proven himself an intelligent strategist during the previous war.

Nekaun paced around the map. All eyes followed him. Reivan heard Imenja’s barely audible snort and guessed what her mistress was thinking. The First Voice didn’t need to circle the map - he just liked to be the focus of attention.

“Has the Sennon emperor responded to my message?” Nekaun asked, this time looking at Vervel.

The Third Voice shook his head. “No.”

Nekaun must know this, Reivan thought, but he had probably asked for the benefit of the others. He nodded and looked around the room.

“Can anyone suggest a way we might change his mind?”

When no answer came, Nekaun frowned and his gaze returned to the white figurines.

“How large is the Circlian army?”

Now several people began to speak. Meroen spoke of thousands gathered so far, then others began to debate how many more might join them. The Dunwayans had yet to join the army. Then there was the question of whether the Sennons would, or if they would remain uninvolved except to allow passage of the Circlian army.

“There are fewer Siyee this time,” he added.

“How fast is the Circlian army travelling?” Nekaun asked. “When will they reach the Isthmus?”

“At a steady pace; if no sandstorms delay them, one cycle of the moon,” Shar said. “They travel through desert and will have to take water and food with them. The town of Diamyane will not be able to sustain them, so they will need to transport supplies from the north.”

“So we attack their supply caravans.”

“Or ships.”

Nekaun smiled. “Our Elai friends may prove useful after all.” He looked at Imenja. “Have they replied to our request?”

“I doubt it has reached them yet,” she answered.

Nekaun looked around the room. “What are our strengths and weaknesses?”

“We have few weaknesses,” Vervel said. “The Isthmus is an effective barrier. The Circlian army cannot cross in large numbers. We have plentiful supplies of food and water and fight on familiar ground. We should be able to raise an army to match theirs. Our fleets are equal and our crews are better trained.”

Dedicated Servant Meroen shook his head. “Why do they attack us if they have no obvious advantage?”

“They must have been relying on Auraya’s help,” Shar said.

Nekaun smiled. “Perhaps. But they won’t have it.”

“Will they turn back once they know she has been captured?” Genza asked.

Several spoke in response.

“Surely they already know.”

“If they don’t we should make sure they know.”

“Send them her corpse.”

Nekaun was still smiling, but in a distracted way. It was the same strange expression he had been wearing when he had arrived. For some reason it sent a shiver up Reivan’s spine. There was something unpleasant in that smile.

“When the Circlians reach the Isthmus they will be stalled,” Meroen said, pitching his voice loud enough to be heard. “But remember: the Isthmus is a barrier to us as well. We may find ourselves caught in a protracted war. Crops will go unplanted, traders will be unable to dock, and Voices will not be able to leave the Isthmus lest the White take advantage of their absence.”

The room had quietened. Nekaun frowned at Meroen then his gaze shifted from face to face.

“So what do we do to avoid a stalemate?”

A murmuring began as the question was discussed.

“We could hide our army behind the Sennon mountains,” a Thinker suggested. “When they arrive at Diamyane we attack them from all sides, and drive them into the sea.”

“Siyee scouts would see us.”

“And we lose our best advantage,” Nekaun said quietly. “The Isthmus. No. Let them settle in Diamyane. We