“Here’s my ever-doubtful Danjin,” a familiar voice said from inside.
The flap of the tent opened and Ella beckoned him in. He saw that Juran and Dyara were standing beside a table covered in a map Danjin recognized from the last war. Mairae and Rian were absent.
The Circlian leader met Danjin’s eyes and nodded. Danjin made the sign of the circle.
“Now, Danjin. Why can’t you stop worrying?” Ella asked.
“Somebody has to,” he replied. “Consider me your personal worrier.”
Her eyebrows rose and she glanced at Juran, who returned her look with a half-smile.
“Did I say something wrong?” Danjin asked.
Ella laughed. “No. Juran was saying something similar just a moment ago. He says you are my conscience and common sense.”
“Am I?” Danjin looked at Juran. He couldn’t help wondering if that meant Juran thought Ella had too little conscience and common sense.
Juran chuckled. “You do not blindly trust that events will turn out as the gods would have them,” he said. “Ella cannot comprehend anything but victory.”
“Why send us to Southern Ithania if they can’t ensure victory?” she asked.
“There is always the risk of failure,” Juran replied. “Even if it is a small one.”
“Why do we bring an army with us if the gods’ power, channelled through the White, is all that is needed?” Danjin asked.
Ella shook her head. “We all know the army is only needed in order to control the land one takes. The real fight is magical. Magic is the province of the gods, so victory is sure.”
“Unless the Pentadrian gods are stronger,” Juran pointed out.
“If that were so, the Circle would not send us to war.”
Juran smiled and waved a hand in her direction. “Enough of that. Danjin came here to discuss other matters.” Danjin felt his heart skip as the Circlian leader looked at him earnestly. “I see you have spoken to Auraya again.”
Danjin nodded, then related what he could remember. When he had finished, the White silently exchanged glances, communicating in their unique way.
“She is alive; she has been sick but is better,” Dyara summed up. “Can she really see us?”
Juran shrugged. “We can only wait and see if this messenger turns up.” He turned to Danjin. “Ella has told me you found the link ring Auraya made for you among your possessions. Do you know why it was there?”
Danjin felt his face warm. “I am not sure... but I have a suspicion my wife may have put it there.”
“Why would she hide it?”
“Oh, she wouldn’t have meant to hide it,” Danjin explained hastily. “When she packs for me she often puts things in odd places in order to fit more into my trunk. She probably intended for me to find the ring when I opened the game, and didn’t realize it would get stuck in the drawer.”
Juran nodded. “So why pack it at all?”
“A precaution, I suppose. I’ve found a lot of strange items in my trunk over the years, and when I ask her about them she usually says she put them there ‘just in case.’ ”
“Just in case of what?” Juran said thoughtfully. He said it as if he were wondering aloud, not expecting an answer. Danjin shrugged. The Circlian leader took something from within his robe. A white ring. Danjin guessed it was the ring in question.
Juran held it out to him. “Put it on.”
“But...” Ella stared at Juran, who returned her look with an unreadable expression. She bit her lip and watched as Danjin took the ring.
The small signs of concern her face betrayed negated any eagerness Danjin had felt at the chance to communicate with Auraya. He considered asking if using the ring was dangerous. But so what if it was? Juran had ordered him to, anyway, and he would not refuse.
“What should I say?” he asked.
Ella shrugged. “Tell her we are relieved that she is alive.”
He nodded. Taking a deep breath, he slipped the ring onto his finger and closed his eyes.
No answer came. He called several times more, then looked at the Voices and shrugged.
“Perhaps it isn’t working any more.”
“Take off the ring, Danjin,” Ella said.
Juran held out his hand. Danjin removed the ring and handed it over. The three White were frowning.
“That’s not it, is it?” he asked tentatively.
Juran looked at him thoughtfully. “The ring may not be enabling us to speak with Auraya, but it has not lost another quality. While you wore it I could not read your mind. Ella could, as you are wearing her link ring, so I had to watch through her mind.”
“Is it the same ring, then?”
“Yes, it definitely is. We knew about the flaw, but had no time to make another at the time, as Auraya had to leave for Si.”
Juran regarded the ring speculatively, then looked at Ella. “This could be to our advantage. So long as Danjin wears this ring, his mind will be hidden to all but us.”
“And Auraya,” she pointed out.
His lips thinned. “I wish I knew she could be trusted.” Curling his fingers around the ring, he let his hand fall to his side.
The entrance to the tent opened and a guard stepped inside and made the sign of the circle. “A messenger from the Sennon emperor requests an audience with the White.”
Juran looked at Danjin, but his smile was forced. “Thank you for alerting us to this, Danjin. You had best get some sleep.”
As Danjin moved toward the tent flap Ella touched his arm gently. “She is alive, at least,” she said quietly.
He sighed. “Yes, but for how long?”
“That is in the hands of the gods,” she said.
Nodding, he stepped out into the desert night and headed for his tent.
The Gull felt the power of the wave gather behind him. As it reached him he stretched out and rode it forward. The rock wall of the stack rushed toward him. He twisted at the last moment, his body moving automatically to lessen the impact, his fingers catching familiar cracks and protrusions. As the wave retreated he began climbing.
He had done this so many times he didn’t need to think about where the next handhold was. Reaching the cave, he hauled himself inside and stood up.
Looking back out, he regarded the dark waves that surged around the stack. He could see no sign of the shipwreck. Even had it been a bright, clear day he wouldn’t have been able to see that far. But he stilled his mind and reached outward.
Silence.
The Gull shook his head and sighed. They had probably all drowned. The irony was, he had intended to sink the raider ship himself, but at the right time. Once he’d had time to get to know the crew, to sort the ill-fated from the ill-natured.
He hadn’t had time. If he hadn’t been asleep he might have sensed the approach of the Elai and been able to warn or help those of the crew who were worth saving. But he needed to sleep, just as any mortal did.
Yet he didn’t waste effort in annoyance at the Elai. Their attacks on the raider ships were justified after all they had suffered. He did worry where their newfound confidence and taste for killing would take them, but he wouldn’t try to steer it. Though he and the Elai were both famous for their relationship to the sea, they had no other connection. For millennia he had been a legendary figure of the folklore of landwalkers, whom the Elai hated. The
