A Time of Changes

68

By early afternoon such few possessions as I had were packed. I asked Noim for the loan of a groundcar, and he granted it with a brusque wave of his fingers. There was no question of remaining here any longer. Not only were there echoes of Halum resonating everywhere about, but also I had to go apart, into some place where I could think undisturbed, and examine all that I had done and that I hoped to do. Nor did I wish to be here when the district police carried out their inquest into Halum’s death.

Had she been unable to face me again, the morning after having given her soul away? She had gone gladly enough into the sharing of selves. But afterward, in that rush of guilty reappraisal that often follows the first opening, she may have felt another way: old habits of reticence reasserting themselves, a sudden cascading sense of horror at what she had revealed. And the quick irreversible decision, the frozen-faced trek to the stormshield pens, the ill-considered passing of the final gate, the moment of regret-within- regret as the animals pounced and she realized she had carried her atonement too far. Was that it? I could think of no other explanation for that plunge from serenity to despair, except that it was a second thought, a reflex of shock that swept her to doom. And I was without a bondsister, and had lost bondbrother too, for Noim’s eyes were merciless when he looked at me. Was this what I had intended, when I dreamed of opening souls?

“Where will you go?” Noim asked. “They’ll jail you in Manneran. Take one step into Glin with your drug and you’ll be flayed. Stirron will hound you out of Salla. Where, then, Kinnall? Threish? Velis? Or maybe Umbis, eh? Dabis? No! By the gods, it will be Sumara Borthan, won’t it? Yes. Among your savages, and you’ll have all the selfbaring you’ll need there, yes? Yes?”

Quietly I said, “You forget the Burnt Lowlands, Noim. A cabin in the desert — a place to think, a place of peace — there is so much one must try to understand, now—”

“The Burnt Lowlands? Yes, that’s good, Kinnall. The Burnt Lowlands in high summer. A fiery purge for your soul. Go there, yes. Go.”