The Lesser Kindred

XIV The Telling of Tales

I woke to find myself alone and free of pain at last. I sat up, feeling cold, and realised the shutters were open. The moon was nearly set, but there was still enough light to make out a dark shape in a heap beside the low window, covered in a silver waterfall that caught the last gleams of moonlight.

I rose quietly and went to stand beside him. He had fallen asleep with his left arm on the window sill, his cheek resting on his arm and the circlet bearing his soulgem cradled in his right. Like all sleepers he looked vulnerable, but when I knelt beside him to look into his face I caught my breath. He looked—oh blessed Lady, he looked so terribly sad.

The expression on his face pierced my heart. I was not certain whence his sadness came, but the circlet in his hand spoke of the Kantri. Had he been speaking with his distant kindred? Or had sorrow turned to regret so soon? I had watched Varien working with all his strength to accept his weakness as a human. I knew, in my deep and secret heart, that had I been one of those glorious creatures, I could not have borne to give up my form for anyone, no matter how dear to me.

It was not as if either of us had been given a choice; it had just happened. We knew that somehow our very gods were behind his transformation, but that did not make it any easier for either of us to bear. No matter how great his love for me—and I did not doubt it—I knew that he mourned what he had lost. How could he not? When he had truly realised, that day in the Mear Hills, that he would never fly again, the sorrow on his face had torn at my heart and I had felt a desperate guilt deep in my soul. Jamie was right. I had gone across the sea to change the world and I had done it. If the price had been demanded of me I could have borne it, but it was the Lord of the Kantri who had died.

We were come to a crossroads now, Varien and I. Now that I was safe from the threat of imminent death there was much we had to say to one another, for the words we had spoken in our fear and anger had a kind of truth behind them and would have to be faced. We had accepted the will of the gods and of fate swiftly enough when Akor was transformed, but it was as if the dream was finally done and the clear light of morning shone harsh and merciless upon us at last. We had to accept the reality of what had happened, and it was neither simple nor without cost on either side.

I didn't mean to call to him in truespeech, but I needed to reach out to him and it seemed only natural. I didn't know if he could hear me, or if I wanted him to hear me, and I didn't use words. I didn't have any. What could I possibly say? There was only one thing left to cling to in all the shifting ground that we stood upon, and it filled my mind and rang in my heart—the song we had made together. When we had flown in thought the Right of the Devoted, while still he was one of the Kantri, we had made a song together that blended our souls, that was our love made real. That, at least, was true. Our souls, no matter what the shape of the bodies that held them, were the match of one another. When words failed me for the love I bore him, for the desperate sorrow I knew was in him, still that song echoed in me. I knelt beside him. I did not touch him, but I opened my mind to him and sang that melody softly and with all my heart, letting it take its force from my love and my understanding of his pain, sending it to him through the intimate link of truespeech that we shared.

That was when I began to realise that the song had changed, was changing. It had grown deeper and more complex, it spoke now of sorrow, of pain, in places where before had been only joy and wonder. It was—I know not how to describe it. I closed my eyes, listening even as I sang, as the voice in my mind took me places I did not expect. The melody was the same, but now it had a greater richness to it. It was deeper and more varied and somehow more real. It took unto itself all that had been happening to us, touching Varien's sorrow and mine, weaving it into the very melody—

I looked at him then, smiling, knowing that he was awake. I could never do that with music, but the Kantri were the greatest musicians who ever lived. His eyes gleamed in the darkness, for the only light we had was starlight from the window. I guessed the gleam came from eyes bright with tears as we both rose to our feet, singing together softly now in truespeech, and he held his hands out to me, palm up. I placed my palms to cover his, lightly, shaking, as the voices of our minds blended, drifted apart, blended again, and fell away into silence at the same moment.

Together.

When the last note faded I stood unmoving, my eyes closed. I knew now that the sorrow that was come over Varien was deep in the bone and not to be kissed away like lovers' hurts or soothed with soft words of devotion. I could not have moved if I had wanted to. I needed to know if his love was greater than his pain, if his sorrow was now become regret deep as the sea and old as time—

"Lanen. Lanen. My heart, my life, how can you think it?" he asked, his fingers closing gently around my hands.

"Come, Lanen Kaelar, look at me," he said. "Look at me," he repeated aloud. I opened my eyes. It was very, very dark.

"I can't see you," I replied, my voice catching. Damn.

"You are using the wrong part of you to look," he replied. Dear Lady, his voice was wonderful. "Look at me with your heart, my Lanen. Truespeech is only a part of the full Language of Truth, use it in its wider sense. See, my darling."

"I can't do it, Varien, you know that," I said, impatient. "I've tried this before and—Lady keep us!"

I cannot describe to you how I saw what I did, for many kinds of sight were involved. It was most like a painting but that falls far short of the grandeur. Imagine a great swirl of red and gold over the heart against a background of pulsing green the colour of Akor's soulgem and the shape of Varien's body but much larger—then see the red and gold, ever moving, extend to cover the whole physical body, see a shadow in some parts, no longer denied, that adds depth and fullness. Then add in a melody, high and far, but always present—the song that rings ever in both our hearts. And then lift it all from the imagination, give it shape and weight and make it real, and you will have some faint idea.

I was astounded. "What was thatV I asked. "Varien, I saw—"

"You saw for a moment as the Kantri see, my dearling," he said, and in the darkness the joy in his voice was plain. "Do you believe me now? That is the truth of my love for you, my Lanen. It colours everything I do, even unto mourning my severance from my people." He caught hold of me then and held me close, his arms so tight I heard my ribs creak.

"Lanen, my dearest Lanen," he murmured as he held me. "Well I know that I wear this body as the kind gift of the Winds and the Lady, and that in my old self I have died—but Lanen, hear me, hear my words and believe them. I do not love you only for a season, or only as long as it is easy to do so. Sorrow is not regret, kadreshi," he said, and I began to cry. "I do not regret what has happened. Like any creature, Kantri or Gedri, sorrow takes me sometimes, but it is not an evil. Sorrow is part of life, as death is part of life and comes as surely. Believe me, my heart. We both made the choices we made of our own free will." He released me just enough to look in my eyes. "It is true that if you had not come to the island I would not have changed, I would not have died. But Lanen—Lanen—if I had not chosen to act as I did, I would not have changed no matter what you had said or done. What has happened was the fault of both of us, or of neither."

I was weeping so hard now I could barely speak, and my mind had little to do with the words that came out. They flew straight from my soul. "Varien, forgive me, forgive me! I would have paid any price to be with you but I never wanted the payment to be yours. Forgive me—"

He made me look into his eyes. "Lanen Kaelar, Lanen my wife, I forgive you. Will you now forgive me for the pain our love has cost you, and for the change our babes have forced upon you?"

"I forgive you from my heart" I reached out to stroke his cheek. "We are both changed now, my love. It is well."

I saw again the gleam of tears in his eyes. "I love you," he said, simply. "And Lanen, I do not regret."

I had needed desperately to hear those words. When he spoke them I clung to him and wept like a child. When the tempest of weepmg had passed, though, I recovered myself a little and stood back. "I have desperately needed your forgiveness," I said. "But Varien—I know these feelings will return. They run too deep to be dealt with all at once. By the love I bear you, do not fear to speak to me of them." I drew myself to my full height. "I would always rather have to do with spiky truth than with comfortable lies. Always."

I held out my right hand to him and he smiled and took it in his. "I give you my word, Lanen Kaelar," he said, the beauty of that deep warm voice threatening to break down my hard-won self-control. "Always the spiky truth."

We gazed long at one another in that quiet darkness, our hands softly clasped. It was a vow as great as our marriage vow and we both knew it. Finally he stepped forward to seal

it, with a kiss so strong and sweet I thought my heart would break. We held each other close for a long moment of utter silence. I remember my thoughts as though I stood there this moment—I would gladly die in this truth, with him.

I should have known it was too good to last.

We stood unmoving, drowned in that silent place of joy and pain mingled, until we heard someone shouting "Demons!" down the corridor.

Ah, well.

I stood at the edge of the dark winter wood in the deep night. The moon had set and dawn was yet distant, but I could smell him now. The longing that had drawn me there was grown large within my breast. I knew he was inside the large pile of cut stone that stood before me, but there was—ah, there was another smell that disturbed me greatly even as it sent a shiver through my wings. Faint, familiar yet never known before, wild and strong, so far beyond me I hardly dared even to breathe it in.

At first it kept me away, so deep went that scent into my soul, but I could not stay away. He was there, i walked around the piled stone until I found the place where his smell was strongest. Strangely, it was the sound that stopped me. I had forgotten, but when I heard it again the memory rushed over me.

I had forgotten the sounds he made when he slept. I knew the rhythm of his breathing as I knew my own heartbeat. Fear fell away as I moved close to the small patch of wood in the stone. I remembered that there had been such things in the place we had shared. Those had swung open. Perhaps there were the same?

I reached up and pulled.

Well, I had been dreaming about the demons that had attacked us, and I wake slowly from deep sleep, so it makes sense I'd have thought what I did. For I woke with a start at a strange noise.

There is was again, the sound that had wakened me.

Something was outside my window, pulling at the shutters trying to get in.

"Demons!" I shouted, hoping to goodness someone would hear me, scrambling out of my bed towards the door. I threw it open and shouted. "Vil, Aral, quick, it's demons, in here—"

Vilkas appeared, rumpled and weary but already ablaze, followed immediately by Aral. "Where? What? What's happened?" he rumbled.

Jamie and Rella came round the corner with a glass-sided lantern. "Where?" demanded Jamie, though I could see fear on his face.

"There's one at my window!" I said.

Rella snorted and the others relaxed. "It's being very restrained, don't you think? They don't usually both to knock."

I was a bit more awake by then, and a small measure of courage had returned. The noise had stopped as well.

I went sheepishly back into my room, followed first by Aral, then by Vil, then by Jamie and Rella who were muttering and laughing quietly to themselves. I lit the candle by my bed from the lantern—well, light gives courage, doesn't it?—then went to the window, lifted the latch and threw open the shutters.

I was promptly knocked onto my backside by the armoured head of a large friendly dragon the colour of new copper with eyes the blue of the sky in spring, or of a little healing flower—

"Salera!" I cried, delight warring with amazement as I drank in the sight of her.

To my everlasting astonishment, she looked me in the eye and said, very softly, "Sssahhrrairra."

Then she licked me.

I had been wandering ever since I escaped unnoticed from the College. The magnitude of my realisation, the knowledge that I was right and Berys had bewitched me for months, hit me like a physical blow and for a time I drifted vaguely away from Verfaren, mostly north and east, sleeping as little as I could for dread of the dreams that sleeping brought, and eating only enough to keep myself alive, for food had no savour. In a curiously detached way I began to fear for my own life.

That changed one evening, between one breath and another. I know not how long it had been since I had left Verfaren, but when I woke to myself again it was sudden, and as potent as cold water in the face. There seemed no reason for it—one moment I had been staring into the fire in an inn somewhere, the next I was ordering food and enjoying its taste, my mind vigorous and my own again.

I was most conscious that my vague fears for Marik's daughter Lanen had grown until I could deny them no longer. I must find her before Berys or Marik did, warn her, help her if I could. I prayed to the Lady that my strength would serve me so long, for even the act of prayer brought a sick feeling to my gut. I prayed the harder therefore, pleading my case to Mother Shia, for I had only my healing ability to provide me a living and I sought only to assist the young woman who had been so unjustly pursued by my old master.

After beseeching the Lady's aid, I turned my face south with utter certainty. It was as if her presence beat upon me from a distance, like the sun. I blessed the Lady in my deepest heart for her assistance and started walking. My gut was painful and distended, but I could not spare the time to heal it. I sought the lady Lanen now with all my strength. It was all there was in me to do.

I was caught so deep in the spell that I did not even question my too-easy knowledge of where in all the wide world Marik's daughter might be.

I scrambled to my feet, never taking my eyes off Salera. She was too big to come inside anymore, I thought sadly, until she folded her wings up small and sort of flowed over the sill into the room. So much came back to me—her way of moving, the feeling of being near her, and the fact that sharing a room with her was very like having a horse in the house, simply from the point of view of the available space. I didn't care. I had already thrown my arms about her neck when I realised that the others were still there.

Salera didn't seem to mind overmuch. In fact, she seemed curious. I glanced up to see the other four staring. I laughed, and Aral at least relaxed and laughed with me. "Will, she's glorious," she said, moving forward. "Would she let me touch her, do you think?"

I grinned. "Littling, this is Aral. She's a friend. Aral, this is Salera."

Aral held out her hand awkwardly, as to an unknown dog. Salera ignored it, of course, but she gazed at Aral for a long minute and then took a deep sniff of her. I'd seen her do that before, when she first met my sister Lyra. It was her way of learning a new person.

Aral said quietly, her voice heavy with wonder, "Salera, you are so beautiful. Will told us about you, but he never said how lovely you were."

Salera gently touched the tip of her long snout to Aral's nose, like a formal handshake; then she pulled away just a little. Aral reached out slowly—I was pleased, that was just the way to behave—and touched the copper-hued faceplate that was so close.

"It's warm! I mean, she's warm," said Aral, amazed. Salera seemed as interested in Aral as Aral was in her, so I left them to it and went over to the others. It wasn't far to go—Salera was managing to take up most of the room.

"You never mentioned that you had a pet dragon," said Jamie quietly. There was a quaver in his voice, but I couldn't tell if he was scared or amused. "I'd no idea the creatures were ever so friendly with people."

I laughed. "She's no one's pet, master, and I haven't seen her in many years." I turned back, it was hard to take my eyes from her. "Far too long, eh lass?" I said.

She made some kind of sound, as she used to. I always wondered back then if she was trying to speak. She'd spoken her name to me right enough, or something awfully close to it. I still didn't know what to make of that.

Vilkas stood stock-still by the door, watching everything that happened but keeping well out of it. It wasn't like him, but I got a better look at him when I went to light more candles. Shia, he looked exhausted. He nodded at me, murmured, "Some demon," and finally released the corona he'd summoned to him. When it was gone he looked like a man who was asleep standing up.

Rella, on the other hand, had moved into the room to have a closer look. After a minute she lifted one corner of her mouth. "At least she's a more manageable size than the other ones." She stepped forward and bowed to Salera. "I bring you greetings from your cousins Shikrar and Kedra of the Kantrishakrim," she said, grinning. "They think about you all the time, you know."

"They do indeed," said a new voice. I looked up to see the silver-haired man in the doorway. Couldn't recall his name. He was fully dressed, as if he had been watching with Rella and Jamie, and he wore—

It was a night for surprises and no mistake. He was wearing a heavy band around his head that was made all of gold. I'd never seen so much in one place before. And I've not yet mentioned the emerald set in the middle of it, the size of Aral's fist! I tried to think if mere were any princes of any of me Kingdoms who matched his description.

His lady, as tall as he was, stood behind him looking like a different person than the poor pale creature I'd seen earlier. Vilkas had certainly done her the world of good.

Neither of them could take their eyes off Salera. Mind you, I could understand that. They both approached her with wonder in their eyes, but the man was entranced, bewitched. He walked right up to her—and by my hope of heaven I swear she was as enthralled as he was.

She ignored me, Aral, everyone, to come up close to him. She looked him all over and took her deep breath, then another, then another. He stood before her and closed his eyes. I began to wonder if he was right in the head.

"Little sister, little cousin, I welcome thee, I greet thee in the name of the Kantrishakrim. Wilt thou not bespeak me, little one, dear one, so dearly met at last? "

I was overwhelmed. The Tale of the Demonlord I knew was history, but it happened nearly five times my life span in the past. That is very nearly legend—but here was legend stood before me, made in the true image of my own people but a tiny fraction of the size.

The sight of her pierced my heart. Sherok, whom Lanen helped bring into the world, was the first of the Kantri to be born in five kells, five hundred years. My people were dying, and here was one who looked for all the world like a youngling. I kept waiting for her to speak, I could not stop myself, as long as I wore my circlet I tried to bespeak her, but to no avail. If she had appeared even in some small measure different from the Kantri—but she was not. No matter how long separated our two peoples had been, she was our image made small, undeniably of our blood and our Kindred. Her eyes gleamed brightly, I could tell she was intelligent—but she did not, could not answer me.

Then my eye was drawn to a detail. There was a raised lump in the centre of her forehead, almost exactly like the structure in a Kantri youngling that protects the soulgem before it is fully formed. However, in the Kantri it is a scale that loosens over time. On this beautiful creature it was still part of her faceplate.

I spoke aloud. "Do you permit, littling?" I asked, reaching towards her face. She took my scent and approved—those gestures at least were the same. I reached out to touch the raised surface on her faceplate, longing to encounter a thought, wondering if a touch would make the difference.

It did not. I felt nothing beyond the smooth warmth of her armour. "Alas, little sister," I said, my hand lingering on her cheek ridge, "if you speak, I cannot hear you."

Will

"What do you mean, if she speaks? Of course she does!" I said. "Didn't you hear her?"

"Goodman, I did not. I am Varien rash-Gedri. What are you called?"

"Willem of Rowanbeck," I said. "Salera is—well, I raised her. We're friends," I said, then I started laughing because Salera was making that very obvious. The room was cold and she must have remembered that I felt the cold that much more, for she settled down by wrapping herself around me and resting her head on my shoulder. I leaned against her, forgetting all the troubles that beset Vilkas and Aral and me, forgetting everything except that my Salera had found me again.

Then Varien smiled, a smile like sunrise, deep and powerful and brave through sorrow. "There is a word, Master Willem, for such a depth of friendship. Soulfriends." He gazed at the two of us as though his life depended on us. "Soulfriends," he repeated softly.

Then his lady came up beside him and wrapped her arm about his waist. "Yes, love. And they haven't seen each other in years, and most of the rest of us are asleep on our feet." She put her palm on his cheek, turned his face towards hers and kissed him. "You can adore her again tomorrow," she said, grinning. "Right now I'm claiming a wife's rights. Goodnight, everyone!"

Vilkas was already gone, claimed by exhaustion. When the new-wedded pair—for what else could they be?—had left, everyone went back to wherever they had been, calling quiet but cheerful goodnights.

I hardly paid them any heed. That tall lass had been right—"adore" was the right word. I sat and talked to Salera until the sky began to lighten, and I found I had to touch her somehow—just my hand on a wing, or admiring her size and strength. She was half again the size she'd been when last I saw her. I couldn't help it, I kept telling her how beautiful she was. I don't know that she understood, but she dropped her jaw and hissed at me—that's a kind of dragon laugh, I remembered when she did it—and kept wandering around me, always touching. She was as bad as I was, after so long apart we almost needed to be reminded that the other was real.

"Ah, my girl," I said finally, when the sky outside the window began to brighten in earnest. "I'll need a little sleep at least. Are you weary then, however far you've travelled?" She just gazed at me. "Ah, you look fresh as spring itself, lass," I said, grinning. "Will you mind if I get some sleep?" I laughed at myself. "Truth to tell, I hate to close my eyes in case you're gone when I wake."

I don't know if anything I said meant anything to her, but when she saw me lie down she more or less wrapped herself about the bed, with me on it, and rested her head on my chest, gazing at me. I kept my eyes open as long as I could.

Soulfriends. I liked the sound of that.

It was a blessing and a wonder to wake to life and health and sunlight. I lay for a moment just revelling in the feeling of not being in pain any longer. The voices had receded to the merest whisper for the moment, though they had not gone away. I was almost beginning to be used to them, though I still wondered what they were.

Then I really woke up.

"Varien! Varien, we've found them!"

A bleary voice issued from the other side of the back I was looking at. "Found whom, my dearling?" The back uncurled, turned over and became a groggy semblance of a man. I had to smile—what a difference from the first day of our wedded lives! He looked more than a little dishevelled now, rather than being a vision of perfection. His face was acquiring lines of character, his skin was no longer nearly so soft for our travels had kept us out in all weathers, and his travails of late had put dark circles under those glorious green eyes. I put my arms about him and kissed him. He had been stunning before, a perfection to astonish, awe-inspiring. Now that he was touched by fife he was irresistible, for the awe was still there but now so were the wrinkles.

I had certainly found the way to waken him, for he kissed me back with a will and—well, we were but lately wed, and I had been so ill...

"And a good morrow to you, Lanen Maransdatter," he said sometime later, when we were recovering our breath. "I am as ever your willing pupil. Fool that I am, my thoughts began to chasten you for waking me when first I heard your voice. Blessed be the Winds that I learn swiftly! However," he said, sitting up. "I am left in suspense. Whom have we found?"

"The Lesser Kindred, of course," I replied, not moving. Even his back was lovely. Oh, Lanen, you're deep in, aren't you? I thought to myself, and sat up. "The little dragon, Salera. She's amazing, isn't she?"

"Alas, my love, I bespoke her but she did not respond," he said.

"And did you expect her to?" I asked indignantly. "She's so young. And I'd swear she understands Willem, at least a little." I grinned at my husband. "If they've known one another so long, we are not the first!"

He laughed as I had hoped he would. "It is hardly the same, though, dearling." He stared at nothing for a moment, thinking. "They are soulfriends, it cannot be doubted, but— it seems more like to a father and daughter than aught else."

"I'll believe you. How wonderful, when she just curled about him! Come on," I cried, bounding out of bed, "let's go see if she's still here."

Varien rose and caught me to him, holding me far too tight, as usual. "Lanen, my Lanen, it is good to have you back," he said.

"Believe me, I'm glad to be here," I said. I kissed him as hard as I could and then leaned back in his arms. "I love you with all my heart and soul, my Varien, but I'm absolutely starving. Food and dragons, in that order."

We were in the common room in five minutes. That's when we realised that it was nearly midday. And that we were not the last to emerge.

Jamie and I had kept the watch together, before and after the little dragon appeared. True, we were best suited to the task, but it was also one of the best ways to find a little peace and time to talk. Such things are far simpler when you are young; there are no complications and no lurking comparisons, and the wounds to be healed are generally not so deep. I will not bore you with all our talk. We were honest to the point of pain with each other and with ourselves. The eventual result was an unarmed truce, which for two old fighters is not a bad start.

When dawn came I was all for waking that lazy dragon Varien and letting him stand watch for a change, but Jamie tapped me on the shoulder and pointed at the shutters. I opened them and found that the sun had come up, quietly, behind a screen of light grey cloud.

"Hola, mistress, a good morrow to you!" said a loud voice from outside and away to my left. "You rise with the sun! A moment and I will have the fire—oh."

I turned and enjoyed the scene. It was the innkeeper, come to light the fire and to prepare breakfast, and he had found two of his guests already present and quite a decent fire in the grate already.

"We've kept it in, I thank you," said Jamie, very kindly I thought. "But breakfast sounds wonderful. I'd cheerfully maim for a pot of chelan." The innkeeper laughed and disappeared through a door. He emerged moments later to put two pots on the main fire to boil, one water, one a smaller vessel that he kept stirring. "I hate to intrude, but the kitchen fire is taking a while to get going. Soon have chelan and porridge for you. Did you sleep well?"

We looked at each other and laughed. "Not yet," I said. "But after I've eaten I'm going to go and give it a damn good try."

You grow used to such strangeness when your life is lived as it comes instead of according to a plan. Neither Jamie nor I had trouble falling instantly asleep after we'd broken our fast and knew that the innkeeper would raise an alarm if need be.

When we finally wakened again the early cloud had dispersed and the sun was bright and high. We both felt rested but wondered why none had sent to waken us. We washed quickly in cold water and entered the common room together—

—to applause. Lanen and Varien sat next to the two healers. Varien, I noticed, was wearing his circlet openly now. Will sat a little apart from the rest with the most amazing expression on his face.

"Well done, Jamie," called Lanen, laughing. "For once in your life you're later up than I am. I'm proud of you!"

"Be silent, wench, and pass me some of that chelan," he growled. She laughed again and brought mugs for Jamie and me. We sat with Will at the other table.

The innkeeper was serving a midday meal, and after we'd all eaten we drew two tables together and—well, wondered what to do next.

I turned to Lanen. "My girl, you're looking fine for a change. How do you feel?"

"Like spring after winter," she said. "Mage Vilkas, I—"

"Please, just Vilkas," that young man said. He seemed pleasant enough, if only he'd smile now and again.

"Vilkas, I owe you my life," said Lanen simply. "How can I possibly repay you? What fee can you charge for such a gift?"

"None," he said. "For you were not the only one whose life was changed last night." And my wish was granted, for he smiled then, a broad glorious smile that lit up his face and showed the joy that danced behind his eyes. "In fact it seems that few of us escaped unscathed by the whirlwind of the powers that were abroad last night. Will here is away with that dragon of his, no matter where his body might be."

"Where is she then, Master Willem?" asked Jamie over Will's protests.

"She's gone out to hunt, but she'll be back," he said. Turning to Varien, he added, "That reminds me. Why is she so fascinated by you, and how in the world do you know so much about dragons?" He turned to me next. "And you! What were those names you said, and what did you mean, they sent her greeting? I—"

Varien interrupted him. "Master Willem—"

"Just Will, if you please," he said.

"Will, the full truth is a very long story that must wait another time, but Rella, Lanen and I were on the Harvest ship that returned from the Dragon Isle last year. We have all spent time with the Greater Kindred—with the True Dragons that live there, and several we know by name. One in particular, Shikrar, has spent much of his life seeking to contact the Lesser Kindred."

"The Lesser Kindred are Salera's people?"

"Yes."

"Why do they want to contact them?"

Varien smiled. "I saw the love you share with her last night, like father to daughter. The Lesser Kindred were brought into being by one known only as the Demonlord. He sent an army of demons to rive their soulgems from them. The ones who were attacked were changed in other ways as well." Varien paused a moment. "Our history says that they became as beasts, but it is wrong. Salera is not a beast, not in that sense. She is of—of the same kindred as the True Dragons. So were all the Kantri who were changed by the Demonlord. They were made smaller in stature and bereft of their soulgems, but kindred none the less."

"What's a soulgem?" asked Aral. Interesting as all this was, she seemed particularly fascinated by my circlet. "And if you'll forgive me, what is that stone you wear?"

I looked long into her eyes before I answered her. There was something I trusted there, so I told her the truth.

"The answer to both of your questions is the same. A soulgem is the only physical remnant of the Kantri, the True Dragons, after they die." She gasped, her eyes wide, and put her hand to her chest. "This stone I wear is a soulgem, lady," I said slowly, not releasing her from my gaze, "though I think you knew that before."

"Not until this moment. Oh, Shia, it makes so much sense!" She drew forth a pouch from under her tunic, opened it, and gently took from it a soulgem red as ruby. It might have been Shikrar's.

I could not stop my body, though it was not acting on my command. The instant I saw it I sprang to my feet and grasped her by the throat. "Where did you steal this from? Where did you get it?"

"Varien, stop it! Stop it! Akor, let her go you idiot!" cried Lanen in my mind. I only gradually became aware that everyone was shouting. I released the Healer with great difficulty.

"Think, man! None have disappeared from the Place of Exile, have they?" demanded Lanen. "What, do you think this Healer has killed one of the Kantri from all this distance and brought the soulgem back to taunt you with?" "Put yourself through the Discipline of Calm, Akor, or something like it," she added in truespeech. "This woman helped heal me, she's not demon-touched. You're overreacting." I heard her mindvoice smile ever so slightly. "Bloody Dragons, they're all the same."

I tore my eyes away from the soulgem and with an effort managed to bow and say, "Your pardon, Mistress Aral. Forgive me, I pray you. I am ashamed. This is ill repayment for

your healing. I crave your pardon. Lady, Mage Vilkas. La-nen is right, I reacted without thought. Please understand, it is how you would feel if I revealed that I carried a human skull about with me as a trophy."

"There's no need to kill me for it. I didn't know," said Aral, massaging her throat. She called up her Healer's power and let it spread around her neck. After a moment she breathed a sigh of relief. "That's it fixed. Damn." She glowered at Varien. "You could have killed me. You don't know your own strength. That hurt like all the Hells."

"Aral, I beg your pardon. I'm sorry my husband reacted so violendy. Can I do anything to help?"

"No, I'm fine now," she said. "Damn good thing I'm a Healer." She turned to Varien. "It's not like I have this set as an ornament. I wear it next my heart. It is very precious to me.

"He was a Dragon, Aral," I said quickly, before Varien could respond. It seemed pointless to me to keep Will in the dark at this stage. "I know he told you last night, but it can take a while to sink in. For the purposes of argument he is still one of the Kantrishakrim, and you've just shown him that you wear the mortal remains of one of his kinfolk round your neck."

"Oh," said Aral. She was embarrassed. "I didn't realise— sorry, Varien," she murmured.

"The Kantri can talk to their Ancestors, did you know that?" I added, as lightly as I could. She didn't know, poor soul, and she had the grace to look appalled as I explained. "They use the soulgems to contact them. In his eyes, you have kept this particular Ancestor prisoner for—well, they left five thousand years ago. Prisoner for about that long. Do you wonder now that he's angry?"

Aral said something extremely rude that was, on the face of it, physically impossible. I was impressed. I'd been collecting oaths for a while now and it was a new one to me. I

made a mental note of it. "I'm truly sorry, Varien," she said. "I never meant—I didn't know, how could I?"

"How do you come to have such a thing?" I asked.

"That's what I wanted to know," said Will. "She used it yesterday—sweet Shia, was it only yesterday?—to fight off demons. It was amazing."

I put my hand out to restrain Varien, but to my surprise he nodded. "We are the life-enemies of the Rakshasa. Did the Ancestor grant you assistance?"

Aral nodded. "It—it always reacts violently when mere are demons around, and if I channel my healing power through it I can disperse them with a touch." She frowned down at the gem gleaming in her hand. "I had cut myself once, by chance, and my blood touched it—then the power was amazing."

"Astounding," said Varien. "Perhaps the life in the fresh blood quickens the memory of the Ancestor." He sat down again, obviously relieved. "If the Ancestor assists her, it means that he or she approves of the holder," said Varien to me privately. "Though I have never heard of one so willing before, or one who worked with the Gedri. J must ask Shikrar who this could be!"

"Whence came you by so precious a thing?" he asked Aral again.

"My mother carried it," she said, "and her mother, and hers, back to my great-great-grandmother. She—well, it's a long story, but they say she found it in the deepest chamber of a cavern in the mountains when she was in need of aid, and that aid came to her soon thereafter. She carried it always afterwards, in memory and in a kind of gratitude. When she knew she was dying, she passed it to her daughter, and so on until it came to me." Aral was staring into the gem's depths. "I am the first Healer in the family. It was pure chance that I learned it was proof against demons."

She looked up. "You are certain mis is a soulgem?"

"Absolutely certain," said Varien. "There can be no doubt—though if you must have proof I can supply it," he said. Taking off his circlet, he touched the gem in Aral's hand with his own for just a moment. They both began to glow gently from within, unmistakably the same in kind.

Varien replaced his circlet. The glow in the red gem faded swiftly to darkness.

"I hate to disturb you," said Vilkas, his voice unexpectedly harsh, his smile gone forever it seemed. "It is gratifying to know that the power that has been assisting us is glad to do so, but that does not alter the fact that we have wasted a good deal of time this morning. We are bound westward this day and we should be leaving," he said, glaring at Aral and Will. "We do not wish to stay too long in one place lest Berys should find us."

"Polite as ever, Vil," sighed Aral. "We both needed sleep and you know it, but you're right. We only left Verfaren yesterday and we were attacked by a score of Rikti before the day was out. Who knows what he might do given time to think about it?"

"Which raises a question," said Rella, looking at me. "Where precisely are we bound, now that you are well? If Berys is coming out into the open with his powers, it would be madness to try to get to the library at Verfaren now."

I laughed. "Thanks to Will we do not need it! Unless in your time there you learned more about Salera's people than you knew before?"

"No," he replied. "No, I read all the books the library had to offer and none of them said any more than the common knowledge. They certainly didn't say where they had come from," he said, gazing at Varien. "So they are truly kin to the great dragons away west?"

"They are," said Varien. "I was hoping that in all this time—we try to speak to them every year, as I tried last night, but they cannot hear us nor we them."

Will bristled. "She hears as well as you or I."

"I spoke of the Language of Truth. Lanen tells me it is called Farspeech among you." He sighed. "The mark of a sentient people is that they can speak and reason. I have little doubt of Salera's ability to reason, to some extent, but she cannot speak."

"But she can! She said her name to me the moment she arrived!" cried Will.

Well, that stopped everyone cold just long enough for the room to be suddenly full of dragon.

I watched as He slept and my heart was light with the joy of it. The touch of him, the smell, the sound of his voice, the sound even of his night noises, eased my fear and calmed my soul.

I had much to think of as I lay near him. The other two-legs I had seen were so different, especially the silver and green one. That one haunted me, for his touch was like cold water on my face, like flying out of a cloud into birght sunlight.

Like dawn.

When He woke I nuzzled him to reassure him, then I went out to hunt. It was a good place for hunting, the small creatures did not know my scent and I could catch them easily.

However, as the sun rose overhead I found myself restless again. I had thought that finding Him would settle my heart but it did not. I could not stay in that place, where there were so many of his kind and none of mine. Perhaps all would be well if we returned to our old home, and on the way he could meet my people.

The thoughts were not so clear as that, you understand. All I felt at the time was that I had to return to the high place with Him. But the result was the same.

I entered in the open door of the place he sat eating, surrounded by the other two-legs.

I wrapped the very tip of my tail around his leg.

I had to laugh. "So you want to go as well, do you? That you and Vilkas should join forces against me! It's not fair you know, kitling," I said, reaching out to stroke her neck.

She tugged ever so lightly at me. I knew how it would go if I didn't move. "Very well! I must pay my shot and get my cloak, then we'll be on our way." She knew the tone of voice and let me loose as soon as I stood up. I shooed her out the door—she knew what I meant and left—and I turned to the others.

"I don't know where you're bound, friends, but I'm going home. I've just been told." I grinned. "She's a good persuader."

Vilkas and Aral stood as well, and Gair came over. No idiot, my friend Gair. He knew the signs and he'd seen Salera leave. I expect the sight of her had kept him distant, true enough—Gair is not made to deal with wonders, or even with beasts other than horses and dogs—but once she was gone he made sure he was in amongst us.

"Was all to your liking?" he asked briskly, not letting anyone answer. "Good, good, I'm glad."

Rella was not best pleased. "We've paid, master," she said.

"Not for a ruined mattress and sheets," he replied promptly. "And Will, I can't let you have this on account I'm afraid. I'll need silver."

Damn. I'd forgotten I had not a single copper piece with me. Just as well that Lanen took over.

"Of course you will, master innkeeper," she said. "That is my concern, for it was I who ruined your goods. Now come, let us not disturb the others ..." She drew him away, her arm around his shoulder.

"You wouldn't believe that girl had never done a thing outside farm work until the autumn," said Jamie, with a kind of awed pride on his face. "She's amazing. You mind out," he said, turning to Varien. "She'll have you wrapped around her little finger if you're not wary."

"Alas, Master Jameth, I am already lost," said Varien, gazing after Lanen.

It takes all kinds, I suppose, I remember thinking. You must remember I didn't know her then, and she wasn't that much to look at. Certainly it was good of her to pay for our bed and board, but I was going to have a word with Vilkas. How did he expect to live on the nothing we had brought with us? The woman had been near death, he could have charged her a few silver coins at least for his pains!

Salera called from outdoors, a kind of half-roar. I hurried to collect my cloak from the room I'd slept in. Lady knows I had nothing else to carry.

When I returned everyone was outside. Jamie and Rella had gone to saddle the horses, and it turned out that Lanen had paid for our room and board, arranged food for the journey for both parties and had purchased blankets for Vil and Aral and me, which she had rolled and made ready to tie on behind various saddles so we wouldn't need to carry them. I was embarrassed and offended and grateful all together— and if you don't know what I mean then you've never been poor—but when I tried to thank her she shook her head and said, "Oh, no, Master Willem, take no offense I pray you. These are in the nature of a bribe, pure and simple. The four of us beg your leave to accompany you and Salera wherever you may be bound, and in earnest of our good faith we offer food, and blankets that are soon going to smell very strongly of horse."

I stared at her. Jamie was right, this one was cut from a different cloth. I blinked.

"Well, Master Willem? Will you allow me and mine to travel with you for a time?" she asked politely, but her eyes were twinkling. There was a smile deep down in there somewhere.

I couldn't help it, I grinned. "Caught you, Mistress Lanen! What would you do if I said no?"

She burst out laughing. "Follow you anyway!"

"Of course you would." With that expression on her face she looked half her age, a happy girl with a passing resemblance to my little sister. "Come then and welcome," I said, and my last doubts about these strange folk fell away. "My place is small, but it's a roof and four walls and I'm sure we'll manage somehow. I live about four days' easy walk up in those hills. Let us be off, before this wretched child knocks me off my feet again," I said, for now that we were outside Salera was stood beside me, nudging me with her head. "You're not very subtle, are you?" I said, patting her neck and murmuring happily to her. "I'm so pleased to see you, littling."

When the horses came up they had to be convinced about Salera. Her kind were uncommon enough that they had never encountered one, and there was a certain amount of snorting and backing and a kick or two, but Jamie knew what he was doing. Salera, too, did what she could to calm them, standing still to be seen and smelled.

"A moment, Will, of your kindness," said Varien, when the horses were calmer. He had kept quiet ever since I'd said that about Salera saying her name, but it was obviously something he wanted to get clear before we got moving. He came up right close to Salera, staring for all he was worth. She stared back at him. "You said she spoke to you?"

"She said her name," I said, proud of her. "Clear as day."

It was a most peculiar setting: a bright copper dragon with eyes as blue as the spring sky above, sitting with furled wings on the road outside a wayside inn listening intently to a man who looked unsettlingly like her, though I couldn't tell you how exactly.

Varien came around to stand before her, with Lanen right behind him. He bowed, then tapped himself on the chest, clearly indicating himself. "Varien," he said, and then he pronounced it a little differently. "Varian. I am Varian." He held out his hand, indicating her.

She started trembling. I'd never seen her do that. Everyone else came near, sensing that something important was happening.

Varien tried again. "Varian. Varian," he said slowly, tapping his chest. Then he pointed at me. "Will. Will."

She made that sound then, the one I had always assumed was just noise.

Hooirrr.

I stood there stunned. Will you idiot, she's been talking all these years, you just never understood, idiot, idiot! If you didn't have lips, and if your tongue wasn't made to form an "1" behind your teeth, Hooirrr was as close to Will as you could hope to get.

Salera had got up on all fours. Her wings were rustling in her agitation and her tail was twitching like a furious cat's, but her eyes were locked on the figure before her.

"Again," said Lanen softly, her own eyes shining. "One more time, love."

Varien pointed to himself once more, slowly, and I noticed he was trembling as well. "Varian. I am Varian." To me. "Will." To her, and waited.

"Ssarrairrah," she said, triumphantly. "Sssarraaairrah!" she cried again, and rising on her back legs she flapped her wings and sent a quick breath of fire into the air. When she came back down she butted her nose against me so hard I nearly fell over and said "Hooirrr." Then she touched her nose against his chest and said—well, the first sound was a hiss between closed teeth that was only faintly like an "f," but the rest came out very like "Hffarrriann."

Varien fell to his knees; Lanen, behind him, had her hands on his shoulders, and they both were staring openmouthed and wide-eyed.

"Speech and reason, speech and reason," my thoughts kept repeating. "Lanen, that's it, the mark of a true people, speech and reason. She understands what a name is, knows her own, has—Name of the Winds, she has spoken mine. Lanen, Lanen, she is—they are—"

"They are their own people, aren't they?" Lanen replied. For once she was the calmer of the two of us. Her hands on my shoulders were all that kept me upright. "Ready to burst into full life." Her mindvoice faltered as she added, "They are become a new race, Varien. They are no longer the mindless beasts the Kantri believed them to be. The Lady knows I rejoice for this glorious child and her people, but alas for the Lost!"

"Lanen?"

"I am such a fool, my love. I had wondered in my deep heart if—"

"If the Lesser Kindred could be reunited with their soul-gems to restore the Lost. I know, my dearest, and if you are a fool I have been one for hundreds of years, for I had thought it too. But if they are all as she is, they are a breath away from full sentience."

"I know it. We must think of some other way to bring peace to the Lost."

This whole exchange of thoughts took mere moments, and it did not in the least make less of the wonder of that recognition. Salera understood. She was aware.

I stood and bowed to Salera, as Shikrar always bowed to a youngling when first it used truespeech. "I welcome thee, Salera, my cousin."

She bowed back, but I could see her shaking with the effort of containing herself. I scrambled to my feet, laughing, for I knew what was coming as though my own muscles were shaking so. She took the others by surprise as she leapt into the sky, sending Fire aloft to hallow the time. I would have joined her if I could.

"Why did you say Varian?" asked Lanen quietly, not even glancing at me. Her eyes never left the little one.

"Fewer sounds to learn all at once," I replied. Salera filled my vision as well. "We all learn thus when we are young."

Will stared for some moments, slack-jawed. "I'll be damned," he said, watching Salera as she danced in the air.

Aral sighed loudly and started walking. "Very likely," she said, shoving him as she passed. "And unless we get moving and get off the high road we are all going to be damned together. Berys is still around, you know."

"A point to Aral," he said, starting off after her.

We all set off towards the lowering sun, into the Sulkith Hills, following the faint path west and up.

Berys finally replied to my message by sending Durstan to bring me to him.

"It's about damned time, Berys, what in the Hells have you been doing?" I growled when I was shown into his rooms.

"A few necessary things," he said, not bothering to rise. He was stretched out on his bed in what looked like a nightshirt.

"Like neglecting me, for example," I snarled. "You were in such a tearing hurry to heal me so I could be of use to you. Do you have the slightest interest in what I have learned from the dragons? Or would you rather laze about like a bored merchant's wife?"

"If you were not so useful, Marik, I would have your throat cut for that," said Berys offhandedly. The worst of it was that, despite his tone of voice, he meant it and I knew it. He would happily kill me if it suited him and I never forgot it.

"But I am useful. I am suddenly the most useful man you know, Berys, and you will soon believe me on that score." I sat beside the table and poured myself a cup of wine. "What have you been so busy doing?"

"Ensuring my victory," he purred. "Maikel pursues Lanen even now. In three days' time—no, just over two days' time, now, when I am recovered from my labours, or as long as it takes him to find her—he will build an altar and conveniently die when the demon emerges to plant the Swiftlines."

"What in the hells are Swiftlines?" I asked. "You never told me about this. I thought you said you couldn't find Lanen!"

"Swiftlines are—well, some call them demonlines. They are instant transportation. I don't even have to know where the other ends are, for there are two, one each way. I can step through, capture her and be back before anyone notices. As for Lanen—remember the report from our healer in Kaibar?" I nodded. "It was accompanied by a sample of her blood which I have made good use of."

I snorted. "Ever find out what that dragon was that the Rikti said was protecting her?"

Berys, for all that he looked exhausted, managed to sneer. "The Rikti was mistaken. She passed through Kaibar and there was no sight nor sound or smell of a dragon. Or perhaps the Rikti was right and it has left her. In either case I do not fear the wrath of the Kantri here in Kolmar. My folk would have heard if one had been seen, and they cannot make themselves invisible!"

I laughed, low, almost to myself. "Well, Berys, I wish you good fortune. That girl finds protectors in the strangest places. Didn't our man in Kaibar say the humpbacked woman was with her again?"

"Yes, Rella seems to have joined her," said Berys casually, "along with two men he didn't have the names of and I don't recognise. It makes no difference. They will not be able to prevent me."

"They may not have to," I said grimly. "That is what I've come to tell you. The Kantri are coming, Berys. Here. Now, as we speak. We've got about—well, what a coincidence. About two days or so."

It was worth the bald statement to see Berys's face. He seldom allows anything as minor as surprise to affect him, but there, this news would change a few of his plans.