:Get on with it, Mirar.
:The gods can only exist in one place at any time and no god can exist where there is no magic.
:I knew that.
:But I’d wager you didn’t know this: the gods don’t take people’s souls. It’s a lie they’ve been using for millennia to give mortals a reason to obey them.
Auraya felt her curiosity turn to disbelief.
:That can’t be true. I don’t believe it.
:You don’t want to believe it. These are the words of Sorli herself. The sixth god, who helped the Circle kill all the other gods. How did she put it? “No god collects and preserves souls of mortal dead.”
:She was lying. She was probably mad. After all, she killed herself. She may not have even existed at all, and this is all some trick someone set up centuries ago in revenge against the gods.
:You don’t believe it because you don’t want to. And I can hardly blame you. I—
:No, you’re believing it because you want to. It suits your view of the world very well, Mirar. Doesn’t that sound suspicious to you? If I wanted to trick you, this would be how I’d do it. Feed you what you want to hear so you don’t question what comes with it. She paused as an unpleasant possibility occurred to her. What did come with it?
:I can’t tell you that.
:Then... just be careful. If it is a trick, that other part may be the trap.
He paused a long time before answering.
:I will keep that in mind. There is something else I think I can tell you.
:Oh?
:Voids were created when a god was killed.
She felt a thrill of mingled alarm and excitement.
:Did this Scroll tell you how the gods killed each other?
He paused.
:Is there a god you’d like to kill? he asked.
:Maybe.
:Who? Ah! The Pentadrian ones, of course. What have they ever done to you?
:Had me chained up in a void.
:A reasonable, if personal, grudge, he conceded.
:And they encouraged their people to invade Northern Ithania, she added.
:Yes, that wasn’t very polite.
:I suppose you’re going to tell me the Circlian gods are guilty of worse?
:I could. But I won’t. So you don’t have any personal grudges against them?
:Just a small one. It seems fair that if Huan wants me dead then I can wish the same of her.
:Sound rea—... Wait. Huan wants you dead?
:Why are you surprised? You warned me the gods would try to kill me.
:But they didn’t.
:Chaia keeps coming to my rescue. Well, as much as he can when there are “rules” and such to make it difficult for him. He says he can’t set me free.
:Does he? I had assumed none of the Circlian gods could venture into the Sanctuary without attracting the attention of the Pentadrian gods.
:So did I. She briefly told him that Chaia had impersonated Sheyr twice, though she did not mention why. He says Sheyr won’t alert the Pentadrians to it because it means admitting it can happen.
:And then nobody will know whether they can believe it is him or not when he appears. How frustrating for him. The others... Ah. I must go, Auraya.
:Whatever you do, don’t endanger yourself or the Dreamweavers on my account.
But his mind had slipped from her perception and she heard no answer.
Sighing, she let herself drift for a while, but her mind returned to Mirar.
He’s so much more confident than Leiard, she thought. Though Leiard was like that when he was in the forest. He was only fearful in Jarime and around the White. Except... he wasn’t fearful when we were lovers. He was more like...
The recognition was like a jolt of energy. When Leiard was being her lover he had been more like Mirar. Mirar had been with her all the time she had been with Leiard, even if in a diminished, half-forgotten form.
Perhaps it was only her weakened, vulnerable state that was heightening her feelings, but she was overwhelmed by a longing to be with him. And it was followed by an equally powerful terror.
I must be careful, she told herself desperately. I think I could fall in love with anyone who got me out of this place, and I would never know if it was real.
For the last few days the Dunwayan army had marched between the Hollow Mountains on the right and the sea on the left. The road had been all gentle curves, the weather had been mild and the smell of the sea gave the air a clean, fresh tang. The forest of Dunway gave way to rocky land covered in tussocky grasses and wind-twisted bushes and trees.
The thinner vegetation allowed frequent glimpses of white sand and blue water. Danjin felt a wistful disappointment every time he saw another seemingly idyllic stretch of beach. He could hardly stop to enjoy the beauty of the area; he was part of an army, and that army was hurrying to meet another.
Traders taking goods to Dunway occasionally used this road, but for most of the year the weather favored ship transportation. I-Portak scanned the horizon from time to time, no doubt looking for his own people’s warships. After several hundred years of peace in Northern Ithania, only the Dunwayans kept a fleet of warships and trained their warriors in the art of sea warfare. According to spies, the Pentadrians had their own small fleet and some skill in using it. During the previous war, Danjin had asked Lanren Songmaker, the White’s war adviser, why the Pentadrians hadn’t sailed into Jarime instead of invading through the mountains. The man had explained that sailing the long way around the west side of the continent would be slow due to unfavorable winds, and the east side was guarded by the Dunwayan warships. The Dunwayans would have relished the chance to practice their skills on an enemy.
Nothing prevented the Dunwayans sailing south, however. Not when Sennon was supporting the Circlians. The Dunwayan warships were to meet the rest of the army in Karienne, the Sennon capital, then defend ships supplying the army as they travelled south to the Isthmus of Grya.
But we have to get to Karienne first, Danjin thought. Across the Sennon desert. Relying on Sennon help to supply us with enough water to keep an army from dying of thirst.
The land was growing steadily drier. Thinking back, Danjin realized it had been at least a day since he’d seen a tree bigger than a man. The tussocks of grass were smaller and thinner. The soil was so dry and dusty it may as well have been sand. Looking past Ella and I-Portak, Danjin noted the water carriers striding up and down the column of warriors, filling cups from large skins whenever a fighter called for a drink. Their services would be in high demand over the next few weeks.
I-Portak straightened in his seat. Looking at Ella, Danjin saw her expression become intent. They were both gazing over his head. He felt the platten tilt and realized it had just topped a ridge and was descending steeply.
