“The desert begins,” I-Portak murmured.
Danjin turned around, as did the other advisers. A pale, flat land lay before them, its surface disturbed by the ripples of dunes. At the base of the ridge the road continued on to the horizon, as straight as a Dunwayan spear. At the horizon wisps of sand or dust curled into the sky. A windstorm, perhaps. Danjin had heard about desert storms so ferocious the sand in them flayed the skin from travellers, or buried them alive.
“That is the army,” he heard Ella say. “They have made good time.”
Danjin felt a surge of excitement and relief. No storm. Just the Circlians.
“We should reach them tonight,” I-Portak replied. “Or sooner, if you wish.”
Turning back, Danjin was relieved to see Ella shake her head.
“Tonight will be sufficient. Let’s not tax ourselves until we need to.” Her shoulders rose and fell, betraying a sigh. Danjin suppressed a smile.
This was proving to be a boring journey. Though Ella had spent a good deal of the trip to the Pentadrian village with her attention on the fleeing servant’s mind, she had “surfaced” often enough to make conversation - or to watch Danjin and Gillen play counters. Even Yem had been a more interesting companion than I-Portak and his advisers.
Ella’s gaze shifted to his and he saw a small smile curve her mouth. She leaned forward.
“Have you packed that little travel set of counters, Danjin?”
He nodded.
“Let’s have a game to pass the time, then.”
Surprised, he pulled his pack out from under his seat and drew out the game box. Opening the drawer, he began to take the pieces out and slot them into their holes. I-Portak watched with interest.
So it was with some embarrassment that Danjin found he couldn’t get to the last piece. The drawer, as always, wouldn’t open fully. The piece was somewhere at the back, but he couldn’t tilt the box or shake it without dislodging the pieces already set up. Digging inside with a finger, he found that the piece had wedged itself between the back of the drawer and the inside of the box.
Sighing, he tipped the pieces into his lap and began to work on the one wedged in the drawer. When he closed the drawer and shook the box he could hear something rattling inside.
Opening the drawer again, he found that the game piece had moved to the front. He removed it, then reached inside again.
Something was still there. Something just a little too wide to allow the drawer to open. Something smooth.
Taking hold of it, he gently prised the top of the box upward. The object slipped through and the drawer fell out completely. Opening his hand, Danjin stared down at a white ring.
Ella leaned forward and took it from him. “That’s a priest’s ring.”
“Yes,” Danjin agreed. “But how did it come to be inside my counters game?”
She shrugged, then frowned. “Unless...” Her eyes narrowed and she looked at him suspiciously. “What happened to Auraya’s link ring?”
Danjin felt a rush of realization followed by guilt. He felt his face warming.
“I, ah, well...”
“You didn’t return it, did you?”
He spread his hands. “Nobody asked for it. I put it aside and forgot about it.”
“You put it in here?” She pointed to the game box.
“No.” He looked at the box and frowned. “Someone must have. Someone who wanted me to find it, perhaps.”
She looked at the ring again. “Someone who wanted you to be able to contact Auraya?”
“I can hardly use it for any other purpose.”
To his surprise, she handed it back to him. “Put it on.”
“Now?”
“Yes. I want to see if it works.”
To speak to Auraya... he felt mingled eagerness and doubt. He looked up at Ella.
“What if she...?” He caught himself and managed not to look at I-Portak.
“You’re also wearing my ring,” she pointed out. “I should hear everything she says to you.”
Taking a deep breath, he slid the ring onto a finger. Nothing happened. Ella frowned.
“Call her,” she suggested.
He pictured Auraya in his mind.
Silence followed. He called again and again, wondering if she was ignoring him, was asleep or - and he started to grow alarmed at the thought - was dead.
“Danjin.”
He looked up. Ella was staring at him, an unreadable expression on her face.
“Give it to me.”
He took off the ring and dropped it into her outstretched hand. She smiled, then slipped the ring under her circ.
“I had better keep this for now,” she said.
“Do you think...?”
Leaning forward, she looked meaningfully at the tile game.
“It’s been a while, but I used to play a mean game of counters.”
He managed a smile, then held up the box and started arranging the pieces again.
Diamyane was still the same dry and ugly place Emerahl remembered from her previous visit, on the way to the Red Caves. Panic had set in since the news of the advancing Circlian army had arrived. The previous day, Pentadrians had taken control of every ship in the area in order to prevent the Circlians using them. Now people were fleeing the city by any means - mostly on foot and carrying their possessions.
In their place came Dreamweavers. Today it seemed as if every third or fourth person she walked past was a Dreamweaver.
She had always kept away from battlefields in the past, until the previous battle between the Circlians and Pentadrians. Battles were dangerous places to be. Now she felt a strange reluctance to leave. Was it curiosity that tempted her to stay and witness the battle?
Where the Circlians and Pentadrians clashed, and the White and Voices fought, the gods were sure to be. All ten of them. In one place. That didn’t happen very often. In fact, it would probably
She shook her head.
She turned to regard her room. The furniture was old and there were few comforts, but it had a view of the
