The Dark-Eyes War

Chapter 14

U'Selle had spent much of her life living at the fringe of her own clan, upending traditions she'd never intended to challenge. She had been born in Lowna, an established town along the Silverwater, rather than in the impermanent septs of the Central Plain. She and her people had made their gold by trading in the marketplace rather than by tracking rilda. She knew that some on the plain considered towns like hers to be Fal'Borna in name only. In most ways that mattered, these people believed, the people of Lowna were more like the Talm'Orast or H'Bel, the prosperous merchant clans that inhabited the lands west of the Ofirean.

It didn't help that U'Selle was one of the few female a'laqs in all the land. Rather than earning her a modicum of respect from other sept leaders, her position served only to isolate her further. Most of the other a'laqs seemed to think her undeserving of the title. And perhaps she was. Yes, she was a Weaver. But if there had been another male Weaver living in Lowna when her beloved F'Jai died ten years before, she would gladly have allowed him to become a'laq.

As it was, she had been so grief-stricken those first few turns after he died that she barely understood that the clan council of the village had chosen her to lead them. When at last she realized that everyone seemed to be calling her A'Laq, it was too late to do anything.

Over the years, she had come to enjoy leading the village, and though the other a'laqs seldom showed her the respect she thought she deserved, her own people never seemed to question the choice they had made all those years ago.

Now she was dying of consumption, and though she fought the illness as best she could, she had to admit to herself that she was ready to die. She wished that there was a Weaver in her village who might take her place as a'laq, but there was nothing to be done about that. All in all, she'd had a good life, despite losing F'Jai too soon. And she had fully expected these last turns of her life to be peaceful.

The gods, it seemed, had something else in mind for her. First, they brought Jynna, a young Y'Qatt girl who came to Lowna with a wild story of a Mettai witch and cursed baskets and a white-hair plague. The tale turned out to be true, and in the end Jynna was joined by several more Y'Qatt children, orphans all, who now lived among them, almost as if they had been born Fal'Borna. Not content with this, the gods then sent to Lowna a merchant named R'Shev, who told a remarkable story of his own. An Eandi army had been seen along the Silverwater making ready for an attack on the Fal'Borna. And amazingly, they marched with Mettai sorcerers.

There would he no peace for her in the last days of her life. Instead, U'Selle had been the one to warn the rest of the clan that war was coming to the plain. Less than a turn before, she had used her magic to enter the dreams of other a'laqs and tell them of the approaching Eandi warriors and their Mettai allies. This once, they had treated her with courtesy and gratitude. It almost seemed that they finally recognized what U'Selle had known all along: Regardless of how her people made their gold, or how she had come to lead her village, she was Fal'Borna. Nothing else mattered. If there was to be a war, her people would fight in it. They would spill their blood in defense of the clan lands; they would kill or be killed, just like every other Fal'Borna on the plain.

Ever since giving this warning to her fellow a'laqs, U'Selle had waited for some word as to what would happen next. By now, she was certain, the Eandi had crossed into Fal'Borna land and were attacking septs. But she heard nothing. No Weavers walked in her dreams to tell her how the war was going or what other Axis on the plain expected her and her people to do. Had they forgotten Lowna? Had they been defeated? Impossible! Had they already destroyed the invaders? She thought this unlikely as well.

Night after night, U'Selle slept fitfully, waiting for dreams that never came, waking in the morning to frustration and a vague fear that she tried to ignore.

On this night, though, the ninth of the waxing, all that finally changed. Or so she thought.

Her dream began as had others in which Weavers walked. There was a clarity to such dreams that U'Selle had learned to recognize long ago, when F'Jai first courted her without the knowledge of her parents. He had visited her in her dreams, where they could share kisses and speak of their future life together in private. Always these visions had seemed more real, more solid, than any other dreams she'd ever had. And even now, with F'Jai long dead and Weavers disturbing her sleep for far less pleasant reasons, that solid feeling remained.

So as soon as the dream began she knew to look for a Weaver. Whoever had come had conjured for her a bland stretch of plain that she didn't recognize, a cloudless blue sky, and a gentle, cool wind. She turned, searching for the a'laq.

Her first thought upon seeing the man was that her senses had betrayed her and this wasn't real, after all. This Weaver didn't look at all Fal'Borna. He didn't look like any Qirsi she'd ever seen. He was as broad in the chest and shoulders as one of her own people, but he was nearly a full head taller than any Fal'Borna she knew, and his skin was ghostly pale.

He must have sensed her doubts, because he said immediately, "It's all right, N'Qlae. I'm a friend. I intend you no harm."

She looked around again. It felt the way Weaver dreams always did. The setting, his voice-it had to be real. And yet…

"What clan are you from?" she asked. "Who are you?"

"My name is Grinsa jal Arriet. I'm from the Forelands, though right now I'm living among the Fal'Borna. I'm in the sept of E'Menua, son of E'Sedt."

U'Selle nodded. She had no trouble believing that this strange, handsome man came from the Northlands. And she'd heard of E'Menua. "Why have you come to me this way?"

"You've heard of the plague that's been spreading across the plain?" he asked. "The one conjured by the Mettai?"

U'Selle smiled thinly. "Yes, I've heard of it. Are there any among our-" She frowned. "Among my people who haven't?"

A small smile touched his lips and he inclined his head, seeming to concede the point. "Probably not, N'Qlae."

"I'm properly addressed as A'Laq."

The man frowned at this, clearly puzzled. "I've never… I thought…"

"It's rare for a woman to become a'laq, but it does happen. My husband was a'laq. When he died, there were no other Weavers in the village, so I took the title."

"Forgive me, A'Laq."

"Tell me, Forelander, how did this plague become your concern?"

"I told you, A'Laq: I'm living now among the Fal'Borna. It's the concern of every Qirsi on the plain. But more than that, I've had the plague, and I very nearly died of it."

"What?" she said. Then she shook her head. "I don't believe you. I haven't heard of anyone surviving this illness."

"I had help. I was saved by two Mettai men. Their names are Besh and Sirj, and they come from the village-"

U'Selle shook her head and held up a finger, stopping him. "You're telling me that you were healed by Mettai? The same people who conjured this plague in the first place, who now march against us with the dark-eyes; you want me to believe that they healed you?"

"It's the truth," he said simply. "This plague wasn't spread by all Mettai people. It was created by one twisted old woman from the same village these men come from. They tracked her, killed her, and sought to keep the plague from spreading. Eventually another Fal'Borna and I wound up journeying with them, and when we fell ill, these men created a new spell that cured us."

"That's a most remarkable tale, Forelander," the a'laq said in a voice intended to make clear that she still didn't believe him.

"It gets more remarkable, A'Laq."

She raised an eyebrow.

"The spell these men created did more than heal. It protects us from ever getting the plague again. Like the plague, it's spread by magic. So by walking in your dreams, I've passed their spell to you and made you immune to the plague."

"You're sure of this?" she asked, not yet daring to hope that it was true.

"I am, A'Laq. As I say, I had the plague. I offer as proof the fact that I'm alive. But there's still more. You can pass this spell on to the others in your sept, simply by touching them with your magic. Any magic will do. This is a gift to your people from E'Menua. All he asks is that if you encounter this plague, you let him know immediately that the spell worked and saved your people."

She regarded the man through narrowed eyes. "This is all very strange," she said. "I haven't met E'Menua, but from all I've heard about him, he doesn't seem like the kind of a'laq who would send gifts freely to other septs."

The Forelander appeared amused by this.

"And why would he have you tell me this? He has other Weavers-Fal'Borna Weavers-who could do this for him."

For a long time the man just looked back at her, a faint smile on his face. Finally he shook his head and laughed.

"I've been doing this for several nights," he said. "And you're the first a'laq to challenge me on any of it. You're also the first woman I've spoken to. My wife would tell me there's a lesson to be learned from that."

U'Selle didn't respond.

"Everything I've told you is true," the Forelander said. "Except for the part about this being a gift from E'Menua. Ile doesn't know that I've been doing this." He faltered, but only briefly. "And he wouldn't be happy if he did."

"As an a'laq, I'm obligated to tell him."

"I understand," he said evenly.

"This doesn't frighten you?" U'Selle asked.

"I don't frighten easily, A'Laq. And I believe that what I'm doing is necessary. I knew there was a risk when I began. If E'Menua finds out, so be it."

U'Selle eyed the man for several moments, tapping a finger to her lips. "You're a most unusual man, Grinsa of the Forelands. Did you really have the plague?"

"Yes, I did."

"And these Mettai cured you of it?"

"That's right."

She considered this. "But E'Menua doesn't believe you, does he?"

The man smiled. "No, he doesn't."

U'Selle nodded, though she continued to stare at him. "Why should this matter to you so much? I understand that if you're living in his sept he's your a'laq, and you don't want him doubting your word. But you've gone to a great deal of trouble to tell me all of this. There must he more to it than that."

He said nothing.

"Explain this to me, Forelander. You don't seem to fear E'Menua, but I can't imagine you want him to know about this conversation. Tell me the truth, and perhaps I'll keep all this to myself."

"All right. We can prevent this plague from spreading. We can stop it from killing. And because he doesn't believe me, the a'laq does nothing."

U'Selle waited, expecting him to say more. When he didn't, she said, "Is that all?"

"Isn't that enough?"

She narrowed her eyes again. "No. I don't think it is."

He gazed back at her for several moments, as if testing his will against hers. At last he looked away, gave another small shake of his head, and laughed again. "Your people are fortunate to have such a wise leader, A'Laq." He took a breath. "You're right: That's not all. E'Menua is holding the two Mettai men as prisoners. These men killed the woman responsible for the plague, cured me, and created this spell to protect all Qirsi. And E'Menua intends to execute them as enemies of the Fal'Borna."

U'Selle shrugged. "We're at war with the Mettai."

The man's expression turned to stone. "And here I'd started to believe that you were different."

"I'm not saying E'Menua is justified, Forelander. But even if you've only lived among the Fal'Borna for a short time, you should understand that this is how my people think. The Mettai have declared themselves enemies of the Fal'Borna; therefore, these two men are enemies as well. It's our way."

"Well, in this case, your way is leading E'Menua down a dark and dangerous path."

She nodded. "Yes, I suppose it is."

He looked frustrated, discouraged.

"Well, A'Laq, I should leave you to sleep. I have more Weavers to contact before this night is over."

"I hope all your effort is rewarded, Grinsa of the Forelands. I can't say that I'm hoping to encounter this plague-I've heard too much about it, and I've seen what it does to those it leaves behind. But if we should be exposed to it, and if we survive the encounter, I'll be sure to thank E'Menua for his generous gift."

That made the man smile. "Thank you, A'Laq."

"Go," she said. "I'd like a few hours of peace before dawn."

He bowed to her. "May the gods smile on you and your people."

"They usually do," she said, and woke up.

Hynna was sick again, the pain in her stomach so sharp that she could do nothing more than lie on her side, her knees drawn up to her chest. She could hear her brothers and parents calling for her, and she wanted to answer them, to tell them that she was here, that she needed their help. But she had her teeth clenched against the illness in her gut; she couldn't bring herself even to open her mouth.

And then she saw the old woman. She was walking in Jynna's direction, her eyes fixed on the girl, a broad grin on her wizened face. She carried a basket in each hand, and within the baskets were smaller baskets, which in turn held even tinier baskets. The back of her left hand was bloody, and Jynna saw that the knife on her belt dripped blood as well.

"You aren't supposed to be alive," the woman said. "It was supposed to kill all of you."

She wanted to shout back at the woman to leave her alone. She wanted to tell the woman that this plague she had brought to her people wouldn't kill her.

But the woman began to cackle, as if she could read Jynna's thoughts. "You're right," she said.

And though the woman was still a few strides away, her voice seemed to come from just beside her. It seemed to Jynna that she could feel the woman's foul breath on her neck.

"You're right, child," she said again. "It won't kill you. But I will."

She pulled the knife free, and then pulled a second from behind her. This time Jynna did open her mouth to scream. If only her father or mother could hear her. If only her brothers could.

"They're dead," the woman said, laughing again.

But Jynna screamed anyway.

"Jynna!"

She felt a hand on her arm and struggled to get away.

"Jynna, wake up, love."

She opened her eyes, saw S'Doryn sitting on the edge of her bed looking down at her, his brow furrowed with concern.

Closing her eyes again, she took a long breath.

"It was the same dream."

"It sounded like it."

Jynna looked at him. "Why? What did I say?"

He looked away.

"Was I calling for Mama and Papa again?" she asked, her eyes stinging. S'Doryn nodded. "And your brothers, too."

She wiped a tear from her cheek and made herself smile. "Well, it was just a dream."

He tried to return her smile, but his forehead was still creased and there was concern in his golden yellow eyes. She sat up and looked around the small chamber.

"Where's Vettala?" she asked.

"She woke up some time ago. She and N'Tevva went to the marketplace. Not that they'll find much there, but Vettala wanted to go."

Vettala, like Jynna, had come to Lowna from Tivston, the Y'Qatt village where they had been raised. A few turns before, Tivston had been destroyed by the plague loosed upon the land by the old Mettai woman she'd seen in her nightmare. Nearly everyone in the village had died, including Jynna's parents and her older brothers, Delon and Blayne. There were a few other survivors of that horrible night who had come to Lowna with Jynna and Vettala. Etan and Hev, Pelda and Sebbi-all of them children.

For a long time, Vettala had been unwilling to speak to anyone or stray from Jynna's side. But S'Doryn and N'Tevva had welcomed Jynna and Vettala into their home and now were as close to a father and mother as the girls would ever have. And with time, Vettala had come to love and trust N'Tevva, just as Jynna loved and trusted S'Doryn.

"So they've gone to the market," Jynna said with false brightness. She threw off her blanket and swung herself out of bed. "What are we going to do?"

She'd had this dream enough times to know that the images she'd seen would be with her for most of the day. Her stomach still felt sour, and would for a few hours, until she was hungry enough to force down some food. But she knew as well that she'd be better off getting out of the house and doing something-anything-that would distract her.

"What do you want to do?" S'Doryn asked.

She gave him a sly look. "The last time we went fishing you caught one more than I did-"

He shook his head. "Two."

"That small one didn't count. That's why you threw it back. You caught one more than I did and I want a chance to beat you."

He grinned, and this time it appeared genuine. "All right. Fishing it is." He stood and crossed to the door. "Get dressed and I'll… I'll pack some food to take with us, in case you get hungry."

Jynna nodded. After he left the chamber she closed the door and pulled on her breeches and a shirt that N'Tevva had made for her. It was soft and heavy and very comfortable, particularly now that the Snows were nearly upon them. She pulled on a pair of hose and reached for her shoes. As she was putting them on her feet, she heard voices coming from the common room. N'Tevva and Vettala, no doubt.

But when she stepped out of the small room she shared with Vettala, she saw S'Dorvn speaking with U'Selle, Lowna's a'laq.

"Good morning, Jynna," the old woman said. Immediately she was taken with a fit of coughing.

This happened to her quite often. Jynna gathered that the a'laq was dying, though few in the village ever said as much or even spoke of her being sick. In fact, the only person whom Jynna had heard say anything about it was U'Selle herself, who often joked about how odd it was that she was still alive. Jynna thought that U'Selle had to be very brave to laugh about her own impending death. It was one of the reasons Jynna liked the a'laq so much.

"I understand you're going fishing," U'Selle said when she could speak again. Her cheeks were red and she seemed to struggle merely to draw breath.

"Yes, A'Laq."

"Jynna's under the mistaken impression that she can catch more fish than I can," S'Doryn said, winking at Jynna. "I intend to disabuse her of the notion."

"He sounds a bit too confident to me, Jynna. I think he's in for a surprise."

Jynna smiled. "I think so, too, A'Laq."

"Before you go, though, my dear, I need a word with S'Doryn in private. I hope you don't mind."

The a'laq said this with a smile, but Jynna could tell that she took seriously whatever matters she'd come to discuss. Suddenly Jynna felt cold. Had the plague come back? Was the Eandi army headed toward Lowna?

"The fishing poles are around back," S'Doryn said, forcing a smile as well. "Why don't you fetch them and the bucket and that net we used last time? I'll be out shortly."

Jynna nodded and crossed to the door. She could feel them watching her, and she knew they'd say nothing of consequence until they were certain she was out of earshot.

She tried to do just what S'Doryn had asked of her. She retrieved the poles from where she and S'Doryn had left them after their last visit to the lake. She found the bucket and net right beside them, and though she struggled a bit, she managed to bring all of it around to the front of the house in one trip.

The problem was that this left her with nothing to do. She checked the poles for tangles in the line. She made certain the net had no holes.

But her mind kept returning to the same question: What were S'Doryn and the a'laq talking about? Most likely, it was nothing that concerned her. S'Doryn was a member of the clan council, and he and U'Selle had been friends for a long time. The a'laq often came to him to discuss things that Jynna thought were terribly boring: disputes between traders in the marketplace, or between villagers who wished to work the same plot of land; provisions for the coming Snows; requests from young couples who wished to build a new house in one part of the village or another. Once they'd spent half the day talking about a fight between two men who claimed to have caught the same fish. Jynna had thought that one especially funny. She could hardly believe they were talking about adults.

Other times, though, they talked about Jynna and Vettala and the other children who had come to Lowna from Tivston. Or they spoke of the plague that had claimed Jynna's family, or of the coming war. These conversations fascinated Jynna. Often after U'Selle left, she would ask S'Doryn so many questions about what they had said that he would finally tell her to leave him alone, something he never did under any other circumstance.

After standing there for several moments, looking at the net, and the bucket, and the poles with their untangled lines, she sidled closer to the house. She knew it was wrong; she knew that S'Doryn would be angry with her if he found her trying to listen. But she couldn't help herself.

At first she couldn't hear much of anything. A small flock of finches chose that moment to alight on the branches of the spruce tree just beside the house, and for several moments their chattering drowned out everything else.

Then they moved on, and Jynna stepped closer to the house, even going so far as to press her ear against the wood. She heard S'Doryn's voice first."... peculiar that a man from the Forelands would be doing all this?"

"Yes, I do," U'Selle answered. She began to cough and for several moments said nothing more. "It seems he's living on the plain now," she went on at last, her voice sounding strained. "So its not surprising that he should be concerned about the plague. But I gather that he and E'Menua are at odds. I'm not sure what that means."

"And these Mettai he mentioned; do you know where they came from?"

"I don't know the name of their village, if that's what you mean. But he said they came from the same village as the witch."

Jynna could scarcely believe what she was hearing. They had to be talking about that woman! Licaldi! The one who killed her family; the one who had haunted her sleep this past night. What other Mettai witch could they have been referring to?

"This could all have been a lie," S'Doryn said. "He might have intended to kill you rather than help you."

"Why would a Weaver from the Forelands-" She broke off, taken by another coughing fit. "Why would he want to kill me?" she continued eventually. "I'm practically dead already. And as Fal'Borna septs and villages go, Lowna isn't important to anyone other than us."

"So you believe him," S'Doryn said.

"Yes," U'Selle told him, "I suppose I do. I came to you to gauge your reaction. If you don't want me to pass this spell on to you, then I won't, nor will I take it to any of the others. But if you believe we should trust this man, then I want to spread the spell as quickly as possible. The plague is still out there. Just because it's spread westward doesn't mean it can't come back this way."

For several moments neither of them spoke, until finally S'Doryn broke the silence.

"You've put me in a difficult position, A'Laq."

"Yes, I have. Would you have preferred that I go to one of the others?" "You know I wouldn't. Since Jynna first came here," he went on, dropping his voice lower, so that Jynna had to press her ear more tightly to the wood, "I've tried to tell her that she shouldn't hate all Mettai for what befell her family. But the truth is, I've never trusted the Mettai. I've tried to avoid having dealings with them in the marketplace. And now you want me to accept this spell of theirs. I don't know if I can do it."

"I understand. But this can save lives, S'Doryn. This can protect all of us from the plague."

"If it's true."

"Yes. For whatever it's worth," the a'laq said, after another brief silence, "I feel well today. Or at least as well as I ever do. The spell hasn't affected me at all."

"Maybe it doesn't work, then. Maybe the Mettai and this Forelander are hoping to make us overconfident. If we no longer fear the plague, we might grow complacent, careless. They could kill us that way."

U'Selle offered no reply, and finally S'Doryn said, "You don't believe that, either."

"No," the a'laq said. "I don't."

"Very well, then. What is it you'd have to do?"

"I just need to touch your magic with my own."

"Jynna!"

Jynna jumped so violently that she scraped her ear on the side of the house. N'Tevva was striding toward her, with Vettala following at a run.

"What are you doing?" N'Tevva demanded, though she already seemed to know, judging from the angry expression on her face.

Jynna stared back at her, wide-eyed with fright. Back in Tivston, before the plague came, her own mother and father had grown angry with her at times, just as they did with her older brothers. She knew that all parents yelled at their children.

But this was the first time either N'Tevva or S'Doryn had been so angry with her. And yet, her thoughts were focused elsewhere.

I just need to touch your magic with my own.

"Jynna, answer me!" N'Tevva said, stopping a short distance from where the girl stood. "What were you doing?"

Vettala had stopped just behind N'Tevva and was gaping at Jynna, looking even more frightened than Jynna felt.

Jynna bolted past N'Tevva, ran up the small steps at the front of the house, and pushed open the door.

"Jynna!" S'Doryn said, obviously startled by her entrance. "Did I just hear N'Tevva?"

"You can't do it!" Jynna said. "You can't let her touch you with that spell!" S'Doryn's expression hardened. "You were listening?"

"Yes. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been. But you can't let that magic touch you!" She felt tears on her cheeks and she swiped at them angrily.

"Jynna, you know better than that!" S'Doryn said. "I told you to wait for me outside! That didn't mean go outside and then put your ear to the wall!"

She felt her cheeks color. A shadow darkened the common room, and glancing back, Jynna saw N'Tevva standing in the doorway.

"Come with me, Jynna," N'Tevva said severely. "We need to have a little talk."

"No!" Jynna said. "Not until-"

"Why shouldn't he let me pass the spell to him?" U'Selle asked in a voice that silenced them all. The a'laq didn't appear angry, but she looked deadly serious. "If you were listening, you understand that this spell could save lives. It could keep the plague from spreading to our people. Surely, you of all people would want that. You know what this spell does, Jynna. Don't you want N'Tevva and S'Doryn to be protected from it?"

"It's Mettai magic!" she said.

Suddenly she was bawling as she hadn't in years. She cried so hard she could hardly draw breath and couldn't see for her tears. She felt hands on her-S'Doryn's hands-and she jerked away, not wanting to be held or even touched.

"Jynna-" S'Doryn began in a soothing voice.

"No! You can't do this! You know what the Mettai did to us! You know that they hate us, that they want us dead!"

"We know what one Mettai did, Jynna," the a'laq said. "That's all."

"What about the Mettai who are with the army?" Jynna knew she wasn't being clear, but she assumed U'Selle would know what she meant.

"These Mettai aren't with the army. And they didn't make the plague. In fact, they killed the woman who did."

"That's what the Forelander says. How do you know it's true?" Through her tears, she saw the a'laq smile sadly.

"I don't," U'Selle said. "I wish I could tell you that I know beyond doubt these men can be trusted, but I'd be lying. At some point, Jynna, a leader must trust her instincts. Mine tell me that this Forelander is telling the truth, and that these two Mettai have done what they can to help us, regardless of what others of their kind might be doing."

Jynna didn't know what to say to the a'laq. U'Selle had always been honest with her, and had always spoken to her as if Jynna were an adult. Even S'Doryn didn't do that. She understood what the a'laq was telling her. She could even see the sense in it. If this spell could protect the people of Lowna from Licaldi's plague, U'Selle would have been mad not to pass it on. And yet, Jynna couldn't get past her hatred of the Mettai and her rage at what their magic had done to her family.

"I don't want the magic to touch me," she finally said, knowing as she did that it made little sense. She was too young to have come into her power, which was why she had survived the plague when it destroyed Tivston. This spell must have been intended for grown-ups, not for children. Still, she wanted them all to understand that she didn't approve of this.

For a moment she feared that U'Selle would laugh at her, that all of them would. But the a'laq regarded her solemnly.

"That seems fair," she said. "But I will pass the spell on to N'Tevva and S'Doryn. Is that all right?"

She looked back at N'Tevva, and then at S'Doryn. Like the a'laq, both of them appeared to be taking her seriously.

"Yes," Jynna said. "But I don't want to be here when you do it."

U'Selle nodded.

Jynna turned to leave the house, but before she could, S'Doryn said, "We still need to talk about what you did, Jynna. I don't care about the reason. Listening to other people's private conversations is wrong."

"All right," Jynna said, her voice low. She looked at the a'laq once more. "What about the other Mettai?" she asked. "You're willing to trust these two men, but what about the others?"

U'Selle straightened. "The other Mettai are enemies of all Fal'Borna people. Like the dark-eye army with which they've allied themselves, they'll be crushed. If I have the chance, I'll destroy them myself."

Jynna nodded once. "Good." And she walked out of the house.