“Mere foolishness on my part,” Trin said. “I’ve spent a lifetime cultivating a reputation as a coward. I’d be most grateful if you didn’t speak of this again.”
Grinsa had to smile. “Very well. But you have my gratitude just the same.”
“And you mine.”
“What for?”
“I’ve heard a bit about your exploits since last we saw each other. I think all of us owe you a word of thanks. Don’t you?”
Grinsa gripped his shoulder. “You’re a good man, Trin.”
“Yes, well, I don’t want that getting around either.” He gestured toward Tavis. “I’ve been explaining to our young friend here that we don’t usually allow anyone-Eandi or Qirsi, noble or common-a second Fating. But he seems to feel that his previous encounter with the Qiran was not all it was supposed to be, and he told me that you would say much the same thing.”
“He’s right. I think he’s earned this second Fating. I’d be most grateful if you’d allow us a moment with the stone.”
“Very well.” Trin pushed the tent flap aside and motioned them inside. “The stone awaits.” He glanced at the duke. “May it prove kind.”
Grinsa cast a quick look at Cresenne. “This shouldn’t take long.”
“We’ll be fine,” she said.
Trin took her gently by the arm and began to lead her toward the marketplace. “I’ll take good care of them both,” he said over his shoulder.
Grinsa entered the tent, with Tavis following close behind. Inside, it was just as Grinsa remembered: overly warm and sparsely furnished. The Qiran, jagged and glowing, sat on a small table, the polished face of the stone turned toward a chair on the far side of the table where Tavis was to sit. Grinsa crossed to a second chair, nearer to the tent entrance.
It was strange being in the tent again. He felt like he had left this life behind centuries ago, yet the heat and the glow of the stone were all so very familiar.
“Are you certain you want to do this?” he asked.
Tavis had already taken his seat by the Qiran.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I just want you to be sure. Most people fear their Fatings. And your first one was rather unpleasant.”
“I’m not the same person I was then. And even if I was, how could this one possibly be worse?”
Grinsa tipped his head, conceding the point. But for several moments he merely sat, staring at the stone.
“Grinsa?”
“You’re right, Tavis. You’re not the same person. Since the day I met you, I’ve seen your promise, I’ve seen glimpses of the man you would become. There were times when that man seemed impossibly far away, but I never fully lost sight of him. Still, even sensing your potential, I never imagined that you could come so far in so short a time.”
“I suppose that’s testimony to how miserable a creature I was when first we met.”
“No, it’s not. I was-”
“I’m kidding, Grinsa. Thank you. If I’ve become the man you and Xaver and my father wanted me to be it’s only because the three of you never lost faith in that promise of which you speak. If it weren’t for you, I’d still be the brat whose future you gleaned the last time we were in this tent.”
“I’m not so sure of that.”
“I am. And I’m grateful to you.”
Grinsa smiled. “Whenever you’re ready, my lord.”
Tavis took a breath. “On this, the day of my Fating, I beseech you, Qirsar, lay your hands upon this stone. Let my life unfold before my eyes. Let the mysteries of time be revealed in the light of the Qiran. Show me my fate.”
Even as Grinsa began to blend his magic with the power of the stone, he watched Tavis’s face, the shifting light of the Qiran making his scars darken, then fade, then darken again. He didn’t have to look within the stone to know what the young duke was seeing, for he had dreamed Tavis’s fate the previous night. It appeared to be, for all that had come before, a rather ordinary life: a long reign as Curgh’s duke, marriage to an attractive dark-haired woman the gleaner didn’t recognize, several children, including two sons. He saw nothing to make him believe that Tavis would ever be king, but he sensed that Tavis had abandoned that dream long ago.
When it was over, and the bright glimmering of the stone had given way to a softer, plainer glow, Tavis sat back in his chair, looking profoundly relieved.
“You saw?”
Grinsa nodded. “Yes.”
“There was nothing bad, at least not that I could see.”
“I’ve told you before, Tavis, the stone shows us our fate at any particular moment. Just because you saw no tragedy today doesn’t mean that your life won’t be marked with some loss.”
“I know.”
“That said, I think you’ve earned a bit of happiness, don’t you?”
“I’m not sure it works that way. Look at Hagan.”
Grinsa shrugged, then nodded. “You may be right. But I still think you’re due for good fortune.”
“Perhaps I am.”
They stood and stepped out of the tent. A cool breeze touched Grinsa’s face and stirred the boy’s hair. Trin and Cresenne were nowhere to be seen, and Grinsa suggested that they walk through the marketplace and try to find them.
“You should go ahead,” Tavis said. “It’s time I was on my way back to Curgh.”
Grinsa nodded, surprised to feel his throat tightening.
“Tavis, I-”
Before he could finish, Tavis had rushed forward and wrapped the gleaner in a hard embrace.
“I love you, Grinsa,” he whispered. Then he pulled away quickly and started striding back toward Audun’s Castle. After a few steps he broke into a run, disappearing amid the crowds of people enjoying the Revel.
“And I love you,” the gleaner said softly.
Wiping a tear from his cheek, Grinsa walked into the marketplace. He soon found Cresenne and Bryntelle, but Trin wasn’t with them anymore.
“He’s haggling with a merchant over a Caerissan ring,” Cresenne explained. “He said to tell you that you should take good care of us and stay out of trouble.”
The gleaner grinned and kissed her. “Sound advice.”
“Where’s Tavis?”
“He’s gone back to the castle. I think he’s eager to be returning home.”
“So are we ready to go?”
Grinsa looked around the market and then gazed up at the castle walls looming in the distance. “I am if you are.” He took her hand and pressed it to his lips.
They led the mounts given to them by the king to the city’s east gate, intending to make their way to the port of Rennach. Bryntelle was chattering excitedly as Grinsa handed her up to Cresenne, her eyes wide, a toothless smile on her lovely face. He climbed onto his horse and they started riding to the east along the base of the Caerissan Steppe, toward Raven Falls.
“I think she’s even happier to be out of the castle than I am,” Cresenne said, gazing at their daughter, a bright smile on her lips.
“It seems so.”
“Are you all right?”
Grinsa smiled, as well. “Yes, fine.”
“Did Tavis’s Fating go well?”
“You know that I can’t answer that.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Not this again.”
