The Night Voice

Chapter Two

Wynn watched Magiere and Leesil walk out.

Then she flinched when the door slammed shut, and as the sound faded, Ghassan’s whole sanctuary fell into silence. The domin’s revelations had left her reeling. She knew things couldn’t be left like this, but no plans or decisions were possible without Magiere and Leesil—especially Magiere. She glanced down at Chap.

“Come on,” she half whispered to him. “We’d better go after them.”

“Not alone,” Chane rasped, stepping closer.

Wynn struggled for the best response. Though she would welcome his company, Magiere, Leesil ... and Chap most certainly would not.

“No, it’s all right,” she said, and then looked down to Shade. “Sorry, but you stay too.”

Chane scowled. Shade rumbled and twitched one jowl in clear disagreement. It was hard to tell what the dog disliked more, staying behind or being forced to.

Wynn started for the door and paused before Ghassan.

“You handled that badly,” she said, and then turned her head toward Brot’an. “Both of you. Chap and I will go after Leesil and Magiere ... alone! The rest of you stay here until we get this sorted out.”

With Chap waiting at the door, she hurried onward before anyone could think to argue. Chap had been uncharacteristically silent, which worried her, but there was no way to keep him out of this.

Once outside the sanctuary, she pulled the door closed and watched it vanish. Suddenly, she faced only a dead-end wall with an old window. The battered shutters were open over the alley below, as if the rooms she’d just left didn’t exist and the dingy passage ended at the tenement’s back wall.

The phantasm placed upon the sanctuary by Ghassan and his eradicated sect of sorcerers had kept everyone within safely hidden. He’d given her an ensorcelled pebble that would allow her mind and senses to evade this defense. She’d rarely had to use the pebble, as someone inside could hear her knock and open the door from within. But this end wall and its window, so real to all senses, still made her shiver.

“You lead,” she told Chap. “See if you can pick up a scent.”

She expected him to answer into her head—to at least say something—but he didn’t.

Instead, he turned away silently, and Wynn followed him all the way down the passage and then down the far stairs. At the bottom, he veered away from the front door and headed toward the back door that led to the rear alley. Maybe he’d smelled something to lead him that way, though Wynn couldn’t see how amid the stench of the old tenement or the decrepit district around it. Chap paused at the door, waiting until she opened it.

Wynn peeked out both ways, and there were Magiere and Leesil just to the left. They were both crouched down, leaning back against the alley wall and talking too quietly to hear.

Chap pushed out around Wynn’s legs, and thankfully neither Leesil nor Magiere frowned at the interruption. Leesil was closer, and he eyed the door after Wynn followed Chap, perhaps wondering whether anyone else was coming.

“Just us,” Wynn said quickly.

Leesil locked eyes with Chap, so the dog must have said something to him in memory-words. Even in the darkness, Wynn saw strain—pain—spread across Leesil’s face. Magiere’s expression was blank, almost cold, and she wouldn’t look at anyone.

“We’re not going back in there,” she whispered, almost echoing Chane’s rasp.

Chap circled around and dropped on his haunches beside Magiere. Although Chap was Leesil’s oldest friend, since before Leesil even knew he was more than a dog, lately Chap had been much in Magiere’s company—and confidence. At least since their time in the prison below the imperial palace.

Wynn crouched beside Leesil and leaned out to keep sight of Magiere. “Staying out here won’t change anything.”

Of course this was obvious, but she hated being the voice of reason in forcing Magiere and Leesil into something they didn’t want to do. Wynn had been stuck in this position too many times over the last few years. At the same time, she understood why they—especially Leesil—had to get away from Ghassan and Brot’an. She found some relief in that herself, but their situation was growing more awkward and tense.

“You don’t agree with Brot’an, do you?” Magiere asked. “You don’t want to regather the orbs?”

Wynn clenched her jaw.

“I don’t want any of this,” she answered as calmly as she could. “But you heard Ghassan. The Forgotten War started somewhere near what is now the Suman Empire. If anything he heard is even partly true ... I don’t think we can ignore it. Do you?”

No one spoke.

Leesil hadn’t said anything since Wynn stepped out into the alley, and that made her feel even worse. At times, going through him to get to Magiere was the easier way, but not this time and not when it was about this. He’d always hated what they were doing concerning the orbs, finding, attaining, and hiding them, even more so after Brot’an reappeared in their midst. This time, things would have to work the other way, with convincing Magiere first. So why wasn’t Chap doing something?

“You think it’s that easy?” Magiere nearly hissed.

Wynn stiffened upright at the threat in her voice, but Magiere was fixed on Chap. Wynn expected Chap to snarl or snap in response, but he didn’t. He sat, focusing on Magiere’s face until she finally dropped her head onto her pulled-up knees. Leesil didn’t move.

At least Wynn now knew Chap was trying. When he took something seriously, everyone else had better pay attention, and hopefully Magiere would.

“What do you think we can do about it?” Magiere whispered without lifting her head.

Wynn now wished she were the one who could talk into Chap’s head. He looked right at her, and huffed once for “yes.” It was less than a blink before she guessed it was her turn, so she readied for an onslaught before answering.

“We have to do as Brot’an suggested, at least as a contingency. The orbs might be the only weapons powerful enough to use against the Enemy, if it comes to that. What would become of the world—again—if that thing, whatever it is, really is awakening? If so, we don’t have anything else but the orbs.”

“No!” Leesil shouted.

As Leesil turned on Wynn, Magiere gripped his upper arm and jerked him back. Chap snarled, rose on all fours, and bared his teeth at Leesil. Wynn sat there on the alley floor, shaking.

Magiere had always been the volatile one.

Yet now it was Leesil tipping on the edge of reason, panting in anger. And Wynn couldn’t blame him, for there was a part of her beneath reason that wanted to just go away and hide where no one could find her.

Leesil wrenched his arm out of Magiere’s grip and settled back against the alley wall.

“Stay out of my head!” he snapped, though he didn’t look at anyone.

He didn’t have to. Chap sighed and turned from Leesil to Magiere.

“We gather nothing,” Magiere said, “until we know what’s happening out there ... in the east, in the desert.”

A voice in every language Wynn understood filled her head.

She is right in one part. More answers are needed.

At these words, Wynn kept quiet, fearing any hint of a silent exchange might set Leesil off again.

But I will gather the other orbs, Chap went on, and you will go with Leesil and Magiere. As for the others ...

Chap’s head tilted upward, and Wynn followed his gaze up the back wall of the tenement. All she saw was a dark hint of that one disturbing window frame. He continued to speak to her, and occasionally, she couldn’t help nodding.

Magiere managed to remain sitting there in the alley, though inside she’d felt she might rip apart. Chap and Wynn were clearly plotting and planning, though there was little to hear other than Wynn’s occasional acknowledgments.

Leesil ignored everyone.

Magiere couldn’t stand the thought of disappointing him again.

They’d been on the verge of being done and going home. How much farther could she push him before she lost him entirely? When she glanced over at him, there was Wynn still sitting beside him, but entirely fixed on Chap.

What were those two up to?

Leesil finally turned his head, but his eyes narrowed at Wynn.

“Look at you,” he said. “Look at what you’ve done, though it’s bad enough with him,” and he cocked his head toward Chap. “I’m getting tired of the mistakes, blind leaps, and—”

“You think you know everything I’ve been through?” Wynn cut in. “Just because I told you the short version?”

“I know you took up with that thing up there,” Leesil shot back. “Chane’s no better than whatever is out in that desert.”

“You don’t know that either!” she countered.” I don’t make assumptions on what little you’ve told me, so don’t you ever talk to me like some—”

“Enough, both of you,” Magiere ordered.

Everyone fell silent again.

Whatever cracks Magiere felt in her resolve, she saw the same widening among all of them.

The rest ... should be ... said ... to everyone.

Magiere looked into Chap’s eyes, though in the dark she barely saw their crystalline, sky blue color.

I do not ... wish ... to explain ... more than once. Do ... you ... still ... trust me ... in this?

And what if she said no? She didn’t know whether losing Leesil or letting the world burn in another war would be worse right now. She couldn’t make the choice herself.

“Yes,” Magiere answered weakly.

Back in the sanctuary with everyone gathered, Chap braced himself as Wynn laid out the plan as he had instructed. As he expected, Leesil was the first to slip into an outrage.

“Did messing with the orbs make you stupid?” Leesil panted, turning from Wynn to Chap. “You’re taking him”—he jutted his chin at Chane—“to get the orbs you hid up north in the wastes?”

Chane appeared shocked as well. Magiere fixed Chap with a glare, her breath visibly quickening. Wayfarer and Osha were equally stunned, though Osha’s rapid blinks betrayed doubt that he had heard correctly. Brot’an stood by the rear window and expressed no reaction at all.

Ghassan put one hand thoughtfully to his mouth. “Why Chane and the elder majay-hì?”

To Wynn’s credit, in speaking for Chap, her voice barely wavered.

“Because Chap is the one who hid the orbs of Water and Fire. He won’t divulge their location to anyone. No one can force that information from him. Chane gave the orb of Earth to the stonewalkers for safekeeping through one of their own, Ore-Locks.” She turned to Chane. “Neither Ore-Locks nor his sect will relinquish it to anyone but you ... and maybe not even you without some convincing.”

Chane’s shock passed, replaced by suspicion. “And where will you be while ... if I take this lengthy journey?”

Chap tensed, ready to act.

“With Leesil and Magiere, and Ghassan and Brot’an,” Wynn answered, “scouting in the east.”

Osha went rigid, but it was Chane who stepped in on her. “Out in the desert, with possible packs of undead? I will not leave you to that!”

Chap snarled, clacked his jaws, and drew everyone’s attention. The idea of traveling alone with that undead repulsed him, but he was equally disgusted by the vampire’s belief that no one else could protect Wynn. None of them could afford to be so overprotective anymore.

“This has to be done!” Wynn insisted, not backing away from Chane. “You and Chap are the only ones who can gather the three hidden orbs. Once you reach the wastes up north and are back on land, you’ll travel by night. The two of you can move faster on your own.”

She paused and addressed everyone in the main room.

“The rest of us will take the orbs of Spirit and Air across the desert. We’ll head east along the base of the Sky-Cutter Range. Once we get far enough, we’ll start scouting for any sign to verify that these reports are true.” She faced Chane once more. “Please, do this for us, for the world. Ore-Locks won’t give the orb to anyone but you ... not even me.”

Chane stared at her but said nothing more.

Chap grew uncomfortable at the clear connection between those two. His stomach rolled every time Wynn said “please” to that monster. Still, there were larger issues at stake, and he studied the others.

Leesil had withdrawn, settled in a chair at the table, and turned his back on everyone. Magiere was visibly tense—no, taut and stiff—as if holding herself in. Wayfarer looked uncertainly from Osha to Magiere, then to Leesil, and finally back to Osha again. Shade pressed in against Wynn as if fearing someone would suggest they be separated.

Brot’an had still not reacted at all, and as to Ghassan ...

The fallen domin watched Wynn expectantly. With a brief glance at the others, he finished on Magiere, and his gaze lingered too long for Chap’s comfort. The one person Ghassan did not look at was Chap himself.

“There will be a lot to prepare,” Magiere half voiced, turning to Chap. “You’re going to need chests for the three orbs. Plus gear and supplies for traveling up north. Same but different for the rest of us heading into the desert.”

She appeared no more enthused than anyone, but at least the discussion had turned to something useful.

“We’ll need to gather any coins we have,” Wynn added, “and separate local currency from the rest to use for important things, like passage for Chap and Chane. The logical order would be for the two of them to retrieve Chap’s orbs first and then stop at Dhredze Seatt for Ore-Locks’s orb on the way back. It’s going to be a very long journey ... and the same for the rest of us.”

“How will they find us upon their return?” Wayfarer asked.

Chap was surprised she’d spoken at all, and at “us,” he winced. She turned to him with open worry on her young face. She was as attached to him as to Magiere or Leesil, but her question was based on an assumption that had been put off until now.

“There is a better path than traveling all the way back to here,” Wynn answered, and then once again addressed Chane. “On your way back, disembark at Soráno, travel inland to the Lhoin’na lands and down to the way we took into Bäalâle Seatt ... on the north side of the Sky-Cutter Range. Once through the seatt, you can meet up with us on the range’s south side.”

Chane did not nod or otherwise agree in any fashion.

Though Chap certainly did not relish passing through a lost dwarven seatt partially destroyed a thousand years ago, he saw no faster alternative to rejoin the others, and time itself was their first enemy in all of this.

“So we’re actually doing this?”

Chap swung around at Leesil’s harsh words.

Leesil sat at the table, all of its other chairs still empty. Then he added, “Instead of hiding the last two, we’re gathering all five?”

Chap longed to call up memory-words to explain yet again that they had no choice. But there were no words that could ever take away Leesil’s pained disappointment.

It was Wynn who turned to Leesil, speaking in a clear but quiet voice. “We can’t stop now, or everything we’ve fought for ... all our efforts will have been in vain. Our aim was always to save the world, not just to hide the orbs. We’ve believed all along that hiding the orbs would accomplish that, but now we see what really has to be done. I know you thought we were near the end ... that our struggles were almost over ... but we have to finish this.” She paused. “We must.”

Leesil listened but didn’t respond.

Magiere stood watching Wayfarer.

Magiere—and Leesil—had come to care deeply for the girl. They would not want to take her into the desert and further danger.

Chap had known this even before they returned to the sanctuary tonight, so he had made another suggestion to Wynn based on things she had told him. In turn, he had instructed her regarding what should come concerning Wayfarer’s assumption about traveling with Magiere and Leesil.

Before Wynn could say anything further ...

Enough for now. Everyone needs time to absorb all of this. Find something to distract them for a while.

To her credit, Wynn did not acknowledge that he’d spoken to her. Instead, she headed across the room.

“It’s getting late, and we haven’t eaten, though we’re still out of cheese,” she said rather pointedly. “We have jerked goat meat and figs, some olives and flatbread, so we should put something together for supper.”

Once she took charge, all discussion of journeys ceased, and again Chap watched as Magiere’s worried eyes strayed to Wayfarer.

Wynn reached for the canvas sack she’d dropped in one chair and then heard someone closing from behind her.

“I’ll put the blankets away and come help you.”

It wasn’t the voice Wynn had expected, which was Magiere’s, and she spun to face Wayfarer. The girl sounded quietly agitated, and Wynn suspected Wayfarer merely sought any distraction from the heightened tension in the room.

Before Wynn could reply, the girl rushed off toward the bedchamber. She wanted to follow, but that would’ve looked too obvious, and she turned to the others.

“Osha, could you pass out these figs?”

Chane drifted to the far end of the front bookshelves near the door and stood staring at her. Shade joined him, and this made Wynn feel worse. She couldn’t deal with either of them right now. Osha came over, took the figs without a word, and began handing them out. Everything had turned awful, and it wasn’t even close to over yet.

“I’ll get the jerky,” Magiere said.

Wynn nodded and kept her expression still, or so she hoped, but her thoughts wouldn’t let go of something else Chap had suggested—insisted—while they were in the alley. It wasn’t that she disagreed; no, quite the opposite. But there was more to do, more to prepare, before it came out to the entire group.

Wayfarer was unsuited for a long desert trek, let alone what might be found at its end. Of course Magiere and Leesil knew this, but they would both be unwilling to let the girl out of their sight—more so when it came to where Chap wanted to send the girl ... along with Osha and Shade.

Wynn couldn’t catch her breath in thinking on what those last two might say or do when they heard.

It is time, while the girl is alone.

She stiffened at Chap’s words in her head. Crouching by her shopping bags, she wondered how she might slip into the bedroom without the others noticing. There seemed no way to avoid it, and when she finally rose ...

Wayfarer reappeared in the bedchamber’s archway. Slender as a young willow in a smaller version of clothing Magiere and Leesil had adopted, she wore a red sleeveless tunic with her tan pantaloons.

“Wynn,” the girl called hesitantly, “could you help me with the blankets?”

That was a transparent excuse. Wayfarer had handled bedding on her own more than once. However, it was an excuse for Wynn not to have to sneak away. She went to Wayfarer, but the girl didn’t turn into the bedchamber.

Wayfarer leaned closer and then hesitated. Up close, the girl’s eyes were a dark, shadowy green in the dim light.

“Bring Chap,” she whispered.

Wynn hesitated. Looking back, she found Chap watching them both. The others were still passing around food, and then Chap was right next to Wynn before she said anything. He’d either caught something in her thoughts or perhaps saw Wayfarer’s hesitant whisper.

Wayfarer grabbed Wynn’s hand—rather bold for the shy girl—and pulled her into the bedchamber. Chap followed.

It was a simple room with two beds. Several packs and a travel chest sat near one wall. Two additional chests—both containing an orb—were positioned between the beds. Wayfarer hurried to the travel chest.

“I need to show both of you something,” she whispered, kneeling down and pulling out a book, which she held before Chap. “Do you remember this? I—I took it. I know it was wrong, but I could not bring myself to put it back.”

Wynn approached. “What is it?”

Before Wayfarer could answer, Chap did so into Wynn’s mind.

A book she found in the library at the Guild of Sagecraft’s annex in Chathburh. It is filled with information and illustrations pertaining to Lhoin’na artisans. I did not know she had taken it.

In spite of everything that had happened tonight, Wynn was a little shocked. “Oh, Wayfarer. It must be returned.”

The girl blushed in embarrassment. “I felt ... compelled ... because of something I found in it.” The girl paged rapidly through the book, passing many hand-drawn illustrations, some tinted with faded colors, until she stopped at a detailed illustration.

“This is a story,” she explained, “about five finely crafted urns stolen by outsiders. A group of the Lhoin’na guardians called ‘Shé’ith’ went after the thieves to retrieve the urns.”

Wynn frowned. “Yes, I know the Shé’ith, but what does ...”

She lost that thought when she looked more closely at the illustration. Something there, and she wasn’t yet certain what, fixated her. Three elves with long hair held up in topknots rode horses galloping at high speed. She made out the fleeing band of thieves, smaller in the image’s background. The riders had to be Shé’ith. Their intimidating leader held an unsheathed sword swung back, low and wide, as if ready for a strike.

Wynn’s gaze locked on that sword.

Compared to the rider’s grip, its handle was long enough for a second hand. The blade was slightly broad, though not like Magiere’s falchion. It was straight until the last third that swept back slightly to the point. Small details were hard to make out, but it looked like the crossguard’s two struts swept back at the bottom and forward at the top.

It seemed familiar, though Wynn couldn’t place it.

Wayfarer quick-stepped past Wynn and Chap to the doorway, peeked out once, and then put a finger over her lips. She rushed to the far bed and knelt, then slid out a long and narrow canvas-wrapped bundle from beneath the bed.

Wynn’s jaw dropped at what Wayfarer was doing.

She knew what was in that canvas, though she’d never seen it firsthand. Osha had once described it to her, and Shade had shown her a flicker of a memory stolen from him.

The Chein’âs—“the Burning Ones”—who lived in the earth’s heated depths, made all weapons and tools of white metal gifts for the Anmaglâhk. Those in turn were the guardians of Osha, Brot’an, and Wayfarer’s people, the an’Cróan. Osha had once been Anmaglâhk, but he had been called to the Chein’âs a second time.

They had violently stripped him of gifted weapons and tools when he refused to give them up. They forced a sword of white metal on him among other items, and he was no longer Anmaglâhk. Osha reviled that blade so much that, to the best of Wynn’s knowledge, he had never opened the canvas wrap himself. Brot’an had taken the blade to be properly fitted with a hilt before they had left their people’s territory.

Wynn didn’t believe Wayfarer knew the sword’s whole story. Osha didn’t willingly speak of that terrible experience and had told Wynn only under duress.

Wayfarer reached toward the bundle.

“No!” Wynn whispered, even more shocked at this invasion of Osha’s privacy.

Without even pausing, Wayfarer ripped loose the twine to expose the sword. Chap pushed past Wynn to stare at the blade, and the plain sight of it hit Wynn with a sharp realization.

It looked exactly like the sword of the Shé’ith in the book’s illustration.

“I recognized it,” Wayfarer whispered. “Anmaglâhk do not carry swords, but Shé’ith do, and the Chein’âs gave this one to Osha.”

So the girl did know the story, at least in part. This bothered Wynn for some reason, as it meant Osha had shown Wayfarer the sword itself. That was the only way the girl could have made the connection.

“Do you see what this means?” Wayfarer asked. “The sword must be a link between Osha and the Shé’ith.”

Wynn didn’t know what to think. And why should it bother her that Osha shared more with Wayfarer than with her?

Pushing this last concern aside, Wynn wondered if she could perhaps use what Wayfarer had just related to progress the discussion toward what Chap had earlier requested ... no, commanded.

It appeared that Wayfarer could catch the conscious memories of the majay-hì with a touch. There was only one other person Wynn knew who could do this. And Wynn didn’t count herself, as her own ability to do so with just Shade was different.

So far, Wayfarer’s ability had been tested only with Chap and Shade. They were both more directly Fay-descended than any other majay-hì, possibly back to the first of their kind. This still left Wynn wondering about the girl’s name given by the an’Cróan ancestors.

Sheli’câlhad—“To a Lost Way.”

Poor Wayfarer had cringed from that second name, especially after the one given her at birth—Leanâlhâm, “Child of Sorrow.” Then Magiere—with Leesil and Chap’s help—had given the girl a third one: Wayfarer.

Perhaps “To a Lost Way” meant something other than what the girl and others thought. In the forests of the Lhoin’na, Wynn had met someone utterly unique, or so she’d thought back then.

Vreuvillä, “Leaf’s Heart,” who was the last of their ancient priestesses, was called the Foirfeahkan. She ran with the majay-hì who guarded the Lhoin’na lands. On Wynn’s visit there, she had more than once seen the priestess touch a member of her large pack and then know things she couldn’t have experienced herself.

Yes, what must be done might be easier now. So finish this.

Wynn wasn’t so certain as she dropped her gaze to meet Chap’s stare. The girl’s strange gift was too close to that of the wild woman of the Lhoin’na forests. “To a Lost Way” could apply to the calling of the last of the Foirfeahkan.

Wayfarer looked between the two of them in puzzlement. “Well?” she whispered. “Do you see where Osha needs to go?”

There was a hint of challenge in her question. Before facing Magiere and Leesil, Wynn had to get Wayfarer to understand another possible meaning for a reviled name.

Not long ago, the girl had suggested to Magiere that Osha and Wayfarer herself take the orb of Spirit into Lhoin’na lands while Magiere and Leesil dealt with the other orbs. Oh, yes, Wynn had heard about this from Chap.

Now everything had changed. The orbs were no longer to be hidden, and no doubt the girl assumed she would be going with Magiere and Leesil. Yet Wayfarer still had reasons to separate Osha from the others ... or rather from Wynn.

“Osha needs to meet the Shé’ith,” the girl said emphatically, “and perhaps learn why he was given a weapon like theirs. The Chein’âs are one of the five ancient races, possibly the oldest one, so there must be a reason.”

Wynn almost couldn’t believe what she was hearing. The girl’s own notion was halfway to what Chap wanted. For one, he did not want the girl traveling with Magiere in the desert, hunting possible groups of undeads. He wanted her safe, and she could not journey to a place of safety alone. But there was more ...

Chap’s eyes had narrowed on the girl. That Wayfarer still waited for a response meant that Chap also hadn’t given her one. Wynn grew angry, for obviously he was waiting for her to do it.

The coward!

Chap turned a sudden glare on Wynn.

Wynn glared back before turning to Wayfarer, and then she thought of something to make her point more clearly than words.

Stepping to the bedchamber door, she called, “Shade, come in here.”

Wynn turned back before Shade entered, but Shade stalled in the doorway at the sight of her father, Chap.

“In ... now,” Wynn whispered.

Shade’s jowls wrinkled at that, though she padded in three more steps before stopping again.

“I have something to show you,” Wynn said to Wayfarer, and then leaned down to touch Shade’s back as she closed her eyes.

There was one relevant past moment she shared in kind with Shade. Majay-hì, who used memory-speak among their own kind, had far more vivid powers of recollection. Wynn knew so from having shared in Shade’s memories of what they had experienced together. She opened her eyes to meet Shade’s crystalline, sky blue ones watching her without blinking.

“Show her,” Wynn said, cocking her head toward Wayfarer, “and be nice about it.”

Shade wrinkled her jowls again as she turned toward the girl.

Wayfarer backed up against the bedside. “What are you doing?”

“Something words can’t do as well,” Wynn answered. “Don’t be afraid. Shade has something I want you to see ... experience ... and it is nothing frightening, I swear.”

Shade crept in on Wayfarer and stood waiting. When the girl finally reached to touch the side of Shade’s face ...

Wynn couldn’t help but remember once more.

When she, Shade, and Chane, along with Ore-Locks, had gone to Vreuvillä’s home in the forest, the priestess had stopped and tensed for an instant. A circlet of braided raw shéot’a strips held back her silver-streaked hair. That hair was also too dark for a Lhoin’na, let alone an an’Cróan—just like Wayfarer. She was also deeply tanned from her life out in the wild. Standing there in her pants, high soft boots, and a thong-belted jerkin, all made of darkened hide, she was small for her people. She looked like some wild spirit embodied in the flesh of an elf, neither truly Lhoin’na nor an’Cróan.

Though there were faint lines in her face, she did not move or act like an old one, yet her very presence carried the weight of long years. One of the pack who flanked her drew near, and in the same instant, she looked down ... and touched that silver-gray female.

Vreuvillä’s large amber eyes lifted again, though her long fingers still combed lightly between the tall ears of the silver-gray majay-hì—and it followed her gaze. She stared beyond Wynn as her nostrils flared once, as if she were both seeing and smelling something that wasn’t there. Something had passed between the priestess and one of her pack.

Wayfarer cringed back against the bedside, staring at Shade. And those bright, fearful eyes turned on Wynn.

“What—what—,” the girl stuttered.

“Osha isn’t the only one,” Wynn began, “who has a reason to go to the lands of Lhoin’na. You are not as alone—or as ‘lost’—as you thought. That isn’t what that name ... that other name ... might mean.”

Wayfarer peered cautiously at Shade without a word.

That is enough for now.

Wynn looked to Chap.

We tell Shade last, once Wayfarer and Osha accept what they must do. I will see the three of them partway there, and thereby keep our youngest ones out of harm’s way. That leaves us both with one less worry.

One less but not none, Wynn noted as she thought of whom she had to face now in all of Chap’s scheming. Magiere and Leesil, in being forced to accept Wayfarer’s being sent away, would be only slightly worse than Shade for being sent off with the young pair. And at the thought of dealing with Magiere next, Chap went on ...

It will not be your last time. While I am away, it falls on you to keep Magiere and Leesil from recklessness, to keep them safe as long as possible.

Wynn felt so tired. All she wanted to do was curl up in a bed and sleep, but that was not going to happen.

What had the Chein’âs really intended for Osha by giving him a weapon of a make from a land halfway across the world? And why in the same place where there was a woman who potentially had the same ability as Wayfarer, who bore a hated name given by ancient spirits of another of the five races? Those thoughts gave Wynn a quick chill.

In all of this, both Osha and Chane would be away for a long while. She still couldn’t see what to do concerning their feelings for her—and hers for them. At least she could escape that, but not forever. If there was a forever.

Whatever came in the end, it would be Magiere and possibly Leesil who would have to face the final challenge. But with all others involved, someone had to get them that point.

That fell upon Chap ... and Wynn.