The Sorcerer's Plague

Chapter 9

The moons were still up as she made her way northward, razor- sharp sickles in the sky, one as pale as death, the other as livid as blood. They were high overhead and gave Jynna no sense of which way was north, but she didn't need them for that. Tivston lay to the south, and though she could no longer see the homes and farms of her village, the occasional flare of fire magic streaking into the night sky told her just where it was. She only needed the moons for their light, and on the treeless plain north of the village, they offered more than enough.

She'd stopped crying, at least for now, made braver than she'd thought possible by the task given to her by her father. Get help, he'd said. And then he'd told her to go to the Qirsi, the Fal'Borna. He was going to let them use their magic to save him, to save Mama and Delon and Blayne. If Papa was willing to go that far, she could hold back her tears for a few hours. She didn't know for certain that they were still alive, but as long as those bursts of fire still lit the sky behind her she had some cause for hope. That's what she told herself again and again. That's how she remained on her feet, how she kept herself moving when all she wanted to do was fall to the grass and cry for her family and her village.

Before long she saw the lake, its placid waters gleaming with moon- glow. Reaching its shores, she realized that she had drifted too far to the east, and she turned westward, following the edge of the water toward Lowna. Toward magic.

She half expected to fall ill herself and succumb to the pestilence before she reached the Fal'Borna. For as long as she could remember, the mere mention of the pestilence had been enough to fill her with terror. The threat of an outbreak hung over her village all the time, a great sword ready to descend, deadly and inescapable. Whenever anyone in Tivston came down with a fever, every person in the village would learn of it. Parents would keep their children at home, even the most dedicated peddlers would avoid the marketplace, the lanes of the village would remain deserted until word began to spread that the fever had passed. No doubt it was the same in every other village in the South- lands. The pestilence was no trifle; it could wipe out entire cities. The fact that all in her family had been afflicted should have marked her for death as well. But though she couldn't imagine ever being hungry again, she didn't feel sickened or weak with fever. And since she'd yet to come into her power, she felt no surge of magic such as those that had taken hold of her father and mother. Grief, anguish, terror: these threatened constantly to overwhelm her. But thus far she'd managed to stave off the disease.

She had no idea how many leagues lay between Tivston and Lowna. She'd heard it said among the peddlers in the marketplace that the distance could be covered in less than a day, but how much less? How far did her father expect her to go before her strength failed? Already she was weary; on any other night she would have been asleep by now. But she pushed herself on, and as she walked she tried to remember all that she had heard of the Fal'Borna.

Living in an Y'Qatt village, she heard little about the Qirsi clans. Teacher taught them about the Blood Wars, of course. He could hardly have taught the history of the Southlands without mentioning them. But it was one thing to hear tales of the Fal'Borna horsemen and their prowess in battle; it was quite another to know what they were like today. They were said to be shorter than other Qirsi, but more powerfully built. Their men and women wore their hair long and tied back from their faces. Some said that their skin was darker than that of the other clans, that they had lived on the plains for so long, their skin browned by the bright sun, that their babies were even born dark. Jynna wasn't certain that she believed this, but she knew so little else about them that she scoured her mind for anything she had ever heard, no matter how insignificant or foolish.

She did know that all the Qirsi clans rejected the faith of the Y'Qatt. Would they refuse to help her because she came from an Y'Qatt village? She nearly stopped, her resolve failing her for an instant. But no. Father had sent her on this errand. He wouldn't have done so if he thought the Qirsi of Lowna would turn her away. Her people were dying. How could they not help her?

On she went, her fatigue deepening with every step. As the hour grew later, Jynna began to cast anxious glances westward, toward the moons. They were low in the sky, and it wouldn't be long before they disappeared below the western horizon, leaving her in utter darkness.

As if sensing her fear, a wolf howled in the distance, and was answered by a second on the far side of the lake. Jynna shuddered and began walking faster. A moment later the first wolf called out again, drawing another cry from the second beast. On and on they went, their howls echoing across the lake. Jynna began to cry again, fear gripping her heart. The air had grown cold; she crossed her arms over her chest, trying to keep warm.

And still she walked, her steps growing heavier, the night darkening as the moons dropped lower and lower toward the plain. Mist rose from the lake, chilling her more and giving an unearthly feel to the terrain. When at last the moons did disappear, Jynna started to cry, though she really had no reason. Enough light remained, cast by the stars and reflected in the waters of the lake, for her to see. And even had she been immersed in complete darkness the sound of the water gently lapping at the muddy lakeshore would have enabled her to find her way.

Still, she had never felt so alone, and it occurred to her that it had been some time since last she'd noticed any fire streaking across the southern sky. She tried to tell herself that she'd come too far, that Tivston was so far away by now that she wouldn't have noticed the flames had there been hundreds of them. In her heart, though, she knew better.

But she walked on.

Eventually she must have fallen into a waking dream, some nether realm between sleep and wakefulness, for she abruptly found herself on a dusty lane, with small houses on either side of her. For a moment she merely stood in place, tottering on trembling legs, looking about, trying to remember where she was and why she had come. Then she began to sob and moan and cry out for help, all at the same time.

At first nothing happened. She heard horses neighing and stamping, but she neither heard nor saw any people, and her despair grew unbearable. But then the pale glow of a candle appeared in one window, and a moment later a second. Soon there was light all around her. Doors opened. There were shouts and footsteps. Somehow she had fallen to the ground and was lying on her back. Men and women stood over her, looks of concern on their faces. Qirsi faces, but darker than any she'd seen before. Perhaps the tales were true. That is, if this was indeed Lowna, and these were the Fal'Borna.

A man bent over her and lifted her into his arms, just as her father had done with her mother. Her mother, who was dying of the pestilence.

Had that been a dream, or was this? Was it even the same night? Abruptly frightened, she struggled to break free of the man's grasp, but he held her tight, and carried her toward one of the houses, toward that warm glow of candle flame.

She ceased her struggles and gave in to her weariness. The last thing she remembered was someone asking her name.

Jynna awoke to the sound of whispers. Opening her eyes, she saw three men standing over her, all of them Qirsi, all of them with their hair tied back and their faces burned golden brown, the color of dry grasses swaying in the plains wind. The Fal'Borna.

Her eyes flew to the window beside the bed on which she lay. The sun was up, shining brightly into the room. She let out a low moan and covered her face with her hands. By now they were all dead. Mama, Papa, Delon, Blayne. All of them. Quite likely, everyone in Tivston. She should have been crying, but no tears would come. She just felt weary, as if she hadn't slept in days.

"Who are you?" one of the men asked, his voice even, matter-of-fact. She uncovered her face and looked up at them. They were all watching her, waiting. She had no idea which of them had spoken. For all she could tell, they might have been brothers, so much did they look alike. "Where are you from? Why did you come here?"

That one. He appeared to be the youngest of the three. He had a handsome, square face, and eyes that were so pale they were almost white.

"I'm from… from Tivston."

The three of them glanced at one another.

"You're Y'Qatt," another said. Now that she was looking at them more closely, Jynna realized that their appearances weren't so similar after all. This man was smaller than the other two. His face was rounder, his eyes a deeper shade of yellow. He was older than the first man; quite a bit older it seemed. There were lines around his eyes and mouth.

She nodded.

"Why are you here?" this second man asked.

"Everyone was dying," she said. "My father sent me to get help. He told me to go north, to Lowna." She hesitated. "Is this Lowna?"

They didn't answer.

The young one exhaled through his teeth and looked from one of his companions to the other. "The pestilence?"

The third man held up a hand, silencing the other two. Then he looked down at her, a slight frown on his face. "You're telling us that an Y'Qatt sent his child to get help from the Fal'Borna?"

She nodded.

"And he was willing to let us use magic to help you?"

"Yes."

He shook his head. "I don't believe you. It's a trick," he said to the other two. "I'd wager she's from the J'Balanar, or the A'Vahl."

"She's not J'Balanar," said the young one. "She bears none of the markings."

"She's young to be marked."

"Not true. They start using the pigments at the end of the first four.

She's near to her second."

She was just done with her second, but she didn't bother to correct them.

"The A'Vahl then," the third one said.

"To what end, T'Kaar? The J'Balanar may want our land, but the feud with the A'Vahl has been over for nearly ten fours. They've grown weak, complacent. They wouldn't challenge us now."

"So you believe her?" T'Kaar asked. "You really think an Y'Qatt village would send a girl for aid from magic-using Qirsi?"

"That's not what she said," the older man broke in. "She said her father sent her here to get help. That I would believe." He looked down at her again. "What's your name, child?"

"Jynna. And I'm not lying."

The third man glared at her, but the other two smiled.

"Tell us what happened, Jynna."

She shrugged, and finally she was crying, her vision clouding. "They all just got sick," she told them. "First Mama and then Papa, and then Delon and Blayne. They're my brothers."

"Were they fevered?"

"I think so. They were… they got sick to their stomachs. All of them."

"The pestilence," the young man said, spitting out the word as if it were a curse.

"Then strange things started happening," Jynna said, the memories coming fast and hard now, forcing the words out through her tears and a sudden wave of panic. I'm alone! They're all gone!

"What strange things?" the third man demanded. He still sounded doubtful.

She took a long breath, trying to calm herself. "They started to use magic." She shook her head, knowing that wasn't quite right.

"You mean trying to heal themselves?"

"No, it wasn't like that. They couldn't help it." They stared at her.

"I don't understand," the older one finally said. "What do you mean, they couldn't help it?"

Jynna still shook her head, slowly now, trying to find the right words. "My mother has fire magic. She never uses it, though. Because we're Y'Qatt. But last night fire was flying from her hands. I don't think she wanted it to, but she couldn't stop herself. And my father. He-" She stopped, gagging on the memory.

"T'Noth," the oldest one said. "Get her some water."

The young one left the room, only to return a moment later with a cup of water. Jynna took it from him with a trembling hand and forced herself to drink. It helped.

"My father has healing magic," she began again, speaking slowly. "But last night it tore his skin open. I think he might have bled to death." "Could a fever do that, S'Doryn?" T'Noth asked.

The older man shook his head. "I've never heard of it before."

"But they're Y'Qatt," said T'Kaar. "They've hoarded their magic all their lives. Who knows what a fever might do to them? It may be that her mother and father-"

"It wasn't just them," Jynna said, glowering at the man. "It was everyone in the village. There was fire everywhere. I heard houses being destroyed by shaping power. The horses were making horrible noises, and I think it was because people with language of beasts were saying things to them. Things that made no sense."

For a long time, none of them spoke. The oldest of the three men was watching her, his face grim. The other two were eyeing each other. At last, the older man stood. "All right, Jynna," he said. "You rest here. We'll be back shortly." He smiled at her, though she could tell that it wasn't a real smile. "Are you hungry?"

"No."

The smile faded. He nodded once and patted her leg through the wool blanket that still covered her. "I wouldn't be either."

With that, he stood and led the other two men out of the room. The young one was the last to go, and he glanced back at her. But he didn't smile or say anything, and he made certain to close the door behind him.

Jynna was alone for what seemed a long time. She tried to sleep some more, but couldn't and eventually she climbed out of the bed and began to wander around the room. It reminded her of her parents' room in her old house. They're all dead! I have no one! Fear, loss, grief: She felt it all welling up inside her again. This time, though, she pushed the feelings back down. She'd made it to Lowna. She was getting help. What more could she do? It wasn't that she was being brave. She knew that. It was just that she couldn't bear the thought of being so sad again.

So she concentrated on the room and on the wardrobe that stood in the corner near the door. The clothes belonged to a man, someone taller than her father. Maybe they were the young man's; he was the tallest of the three men who had been speaking to her. T'Noth. She thought his name odd. In other ways though, this could easily have been a room in Tivston. The clothes looked similar to those she was accustomed to seeing. So were the blankets and bed cloths. Jynna wasn't certain what she'd expected, but she had thought that the clothes and homes of Qirsi would be different from those in her village. Particularly the Fal'Borna. They were supposed to be nomads, hunters. But this place seemed so much like home.

The door opened and T'Noth poked his head inside. Seeing the empty bed, he frowned. When he spotted Jynna standing near the wardrobe he stepped all the way into the room.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing!" she said. "Just looking around."

“Why?”

She shrugged. "I don't know. I was bored."

Clearly, he hadn't expected that answer. "Well… you shouldn't look through other people's things."

"I'm sorry. Is this your room?"

He frowned again, but after a moment he nodded.

"Do you live here by yourself?"

"Now, what kind of-"

The door opened and S'Doryn walked in. Seeing that Jynna was out of bed, he smiled. "Are you feeling better?"

She shrugged again, her eyes flicking toward the younger man. He turned to T'Noth. "What's going on?"

"She was… she was looking at my things."

The older man raised an eyebrow. "And?"

T'Noth shook his head. "Never mind."

S'Doryn held out his hand to her. "Jynna, I want you to come with me. The leaders of our village have come. They have some questions for you."

"And then will you help me? Will you come back to Tivston with me?"

He faltered, though only briefly. "We'll go back with you. Some of us at least." He started to lead her out of the room, but then stopped and faced her again, placing his hands on her shoulders and looking her in the eye. "I don't know what we're going to find there, Jynna. If this was the pestilence, or something like it.." He trailed off, a pained expression on his round face.

She finished the sentence for him. "They'll all be dead."

"It's possible, yes."

"Then can I come here and live with you?" She started to cry again, though she tried hard not to. "I won't have anywhere else."

S'Doryn pulled her to him and held her as she sobbed. "Yes, Jynna. If they're all gone, you can come and live with us. With me and N'Tevva, if you like. All right?"

She was still crying, but she nodded.

He held her for a moment longer, then gently steered her out of the bedroom and into a small common room. There was a hearth in the far wall, though no fire burned there, and beside it a narrow space that must have served as T'Noth's kitchen, though Jynna's mother would have thought it far too small. In the center of the room stood a table and four chairs. Three women and a man were sitting there and three more men stood nearby. Like the men she'd already met, these Qirsi wore their hair tied back from their faces. They also had dark complexions, and they appeared stronger somehow, as if life on the plain had toughened them in ways it hadn't the men and women of Tivston. When Jynna and S'Doryn entered, all of the people turned to look at them, or more precisely, to look at her. Jynna sidled closer to S'Doryn, who placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"This is Jynna," S'Doryn said. "She comes from Tivston. She's Y'Qatt. She tells a most remarkable tale of what seems to be some strain of the pestilence that struck her village yesterday."

"Yesterday?" one of the women asked, her pale eyes widening. "All of this happened yesterday?"

S'Doryn looked down at Jynna, who nodded.

The woman actually stood and stepped toward the door that led outside. "She could still be contagious! How could you have allowed her into the village, much less this house?"

"She's shown no sign of being ill," S'Doryn said evenly. "From all she's told us it seems that the disease came upon them swiftly and with great force. If she were carrying it, she'd be dead by now."

He couldn't have had any idea of how his words struck at Jynna's heart, nor did she let any of them see. Her father had sent her here to get help, and she trusted that some of them-S'Doryn certainly, and perhaps T'Noth as well-would do all they could for her. But she was less certain of T'Kaar and these others. And so she refused to let them see how she ached inside. Standing there, her back straight, her eyes dry, might well have been the most adult thing she'd ever done. In a small part of her mind that remained apart, watching all that was happening to her, Jynna marveled at how she had grown in just this one day.

For several moments more the woman just stared at Jynna, as if the girl were some beast summoned by Bian himself to lay waste to her village. Finally, she returned to her chair, her cheeks coloring somewhat.

"How is it she escaped with her life?" one of the men asked.

"We've wondered the same thing," S'Doryn told him. He smiled for just an instant. "Perhaps if we knew for certain, we'd never again have cause to fear the pestilence." No one else so much as grinned, and he offered a small shrug. "Perhaps she was merely lucky. Perhaps the gods have marked her for some greater purpose. To be honest, I don't know. But she came to us seeking aid, and I for one don't feel that we can refuse her."

An old woman who sat at the table shook her head. "You make it sound easy, S'Doryn. Yet you know it isn't." Before she could say more, she was taken by a fit of coughing that racked her body. No one said anything, although T'Noth did offer her some water, which she waved away even as her paroxysm went on. Eventually her coughing subsided and she pulled a white rag from the folds of her dress and wiped her mouth. "Forgive me." She glanced at Jynna. "I've been sick a long time. Sooner or later it will get the best of me, though I daresay I have some time left."

She grinned, and Jynna decided that she liked the woman, regardless of what she meant to say.

"It's not that easy," she began again, shifting her gaze back to S'Doryn. "You and I are old for Qirsi, even for Fal'Borna. But others here have young families to care for, children to protect. Jynna may want our help, but our safest course is to let whatever disease has struck her village run its course, and then burn to the ground what's left."

"The disease might well have taken care of that for us already." "What do you mean?"

S'Doryn looked down at Jynna and nodded. And for the second time that morning, she told of the strange and horrible effect the pestilence had on her people. The reaction was much the same this time: silence, followed by speculation that the Y'Qatt had brought this on themselves by refusing to use their magic.

"For all we know," one man said, as T'Kaar looked on and nodded, "the pestilence has always done this to the Y'Qatt. Their faith is old, but it's only recently that so many have subscribed to it."

"I've never heard of this happening before," S'Doryn said. "But even if you're right, what does it have to do with Jynna and her plea for help?"

"The risk is too great," the old woman said. She looked at Jynna. "Forgive me, child. I can't begin to imagine how you've suffered in these past few hours. I'm sorry for you. Truly I am. But surely you can see that I have to protect my people, to keep them from suffering as you and yours have."

Jynna met the woman's gaze, but she neither nodded nor shook her head. Eventually the old Qirsi looked away.

"Jynna and her people are Qirsi," T'Noth said. "Haven't the Fal'Borna sworn an oath to protect all Qirsi, even those of enemy clans?"

T'Kaar and the other man who'd spoken of the Y'Qatt faith shook their heads. "Her kind stopped being Qirsi the moment they stopped using magic," the man said.

The old woman frowned at them. "Nonsense. That's the coward's way out. If you fear going to Tivston, as I do, then just say so. But don't pretend that she's not Qirsi simply because of her faith."

T'Kaar looked genuinely abashed. "Yes, A'Laq. Forgive me."

Jynna stared at the woman. A'Laq? Was she the leader of the village then? If so, then her word would be final, and there would be no help for Tivston.

The woman appeared to notice Jynna's gaze. "Yes," she said. "A'Laq. I lead the clan council in Lowna. My name is U'Selle."

Jynna bowed to the woman, drawing smiles from nearly everyone in the room. "Forgive me, A'Laq. I didn't know."

"There's nothing to forgive, child. You're not Fal'Borna. You owe me no obeisance."

It came to Jynna so quickly that she barely had time to think it through. She just spoke, and hoped it would work.

"But I am Fal'Borna. At least I am now. S'Doryn has said that if my family is gone, I can live here in Lowna with him. Doesn't that make me one of you now?"

The woman narrowed her eyes, a sly smile on her wizened face. "Perhaps."

"In which case, I wouldn't be an outsider asking for help. I'd be one of your own. Doesn't that change things?"

"Now, see here-!" T'Kaar broke in.

But U'Selle raised a hand, silencing him, her eyes fixed on Jynna. "The Fal'Borna are warriors. True, it's the men who ride to war, but all of us would gladly die to keep our people free; men and women, adults and children alike. Will you die for us as well?"

"Yes, A'Laq."

"An easy promise to make," T'Kaar said. "But keeping it-"

"Silence!" U'Selle said, casting a dark look his way. She faced Jynna again. "We use our magic every day, in violation of your faith and all that you've been taught since the day you were born. Will you use your magic when the need arises? Will you heal an injured comrade if Qirsar gives you the gift of healing magic? Will you raise a wind to stop a fire if it threatens the homes of your neighbors?"

"Yes, A'Laq."

"She'd say anything-"

"Be silent, T'Kaar! Or leave! I will not tolerate another interruption!" T'Kaar glared at Jynna for an instant and then stormed out of the house.

"He may be right, you know," the a'laq said, eyeing Jynna. "You would say anything to get us to help you. I know you would. I've been desperate before. Perhaps not as desperate as you are now, but desperate enough. A person in your circumstance will tell all sorts of lies, promise all sorts of things to get her way. That's why T'Kaar doesn't trust you. Can you give me one reason why I should?"

The words were hard, but Jynna sensed that U'Selle wanted her to give a good reason, that in the end, the a'laq wanted to help her. She wasn't certain what the right answer was, but a response came to her, and with nothing more to offer, she gave it voice.

"Because I have no one else, A'Laq. Because you're right, I am desperate. I'm alone. And if my family is dead, if my village is gone, I have only the Fal'Borna. Why would I risk lying to the only family left for me?"

For several moments the woman just looked at her, and even when she began to nod, she didn't smile. "A good answer, Jynna. Good enough at least." She turned her gaze to S'Doryn, and Jynna exhaled. U'Selle might have been old, but there was power in her eyes. "You'll take her back to Tivston. You and T'Noth. Normally I'd send four of you, for luck. But I fear there isn't enough good fortune to help in this endeavor, and I'm reluctant to risk more lives."

"Can we take horses?" S'Doryn asked.

"Yes. Take several, in case there are other survivors. Don't tarry there. Look around. Learn what you can. Then leave. But I don't want you to return here for eight days. If you're all still well after that, you can come back. Do you understand?"

"Yes, A'Laq," S'Doryn said, bowing to her.

U'Selle and the rest of the clan council rose and filed out of the small house, leaving Jynna with T'Noth and S'Doryn. When U'Selle and the others were gone, the two men looked at each other.

"I didn't mean to get you into this," S'Doryn said.

T'Noth shrugged. "I was in it when I brought her into my house." "Your brother won't be happy."

"He rarely is."

"Your brother?" Jynna said. "You mean T'Kaar?"

"Yes."

"I thought you looked alike." She turned to S'Doryn. "And are you their father?"

As soon as T'Noth began to laugh, she knew she'd said the wrong thing. She felt her color rising.

"No," S'Doryn said with a grin. "I'm just a friend. An older friend." "Much older, it would seem," T'Noth said, and laughed again.

"I'm sorry," Jynna said.

But S'Doryn shook his head. "It's nothing, child. He's just a foolish, small-minded man. If it wasn't this, he'd find some other way to make my life miserable." He said it all with a smile, giving Jynna the sense that T'Noth was far closer to S'Doryn than he was to his brother. "Pack some food," he said to the younger man, growing serious once more. "I need to speak with N'Tevva. She should know that I'm going away." He glanced at Jynna. "She should also know that I've offered to let Jynna live with us. I'll get the horses, too. I'd like to be on our way before midday."

T'Noth nodded once. "Right."

S'Doryn put his hand on Jynna's shoulder and looked her in the eye. "I'm going to leave you here for a time. Do what you can to help T'Noth. We'll be on our way to your village before long."

She nodded and made herself smile, though it took a good deal of effort. Strange. Until yesterday, she'd always thought of herself as being quick to smile. Not anymore. Not ever again.

S'Doryn opened the door to leave and nearly collided with T'Kaar. S'Doryn stood in the doorway, eyeing the man. Then he stepped aside and let him into the house before leaving. The two of them didn't exchange so much as a nod.

"You heard?" T'Noth asked, as he began to pile food on the table- dried fruits and bread, salted meat and a block of cheese.

"You're fools, both of you," T'Kaar said. But he didn't sound angry. Rather, he seemed resigned to their decision. "This undertaking would be folly, if it weren't so dangerous." His eyes flicked toward Jynna. "Forgive me," he said, surprising her. "Despite what you must think of me, I am sorry for all that's happened to you. You're awfully young to have seen such things."

"So you believe me now?" Jynna demanded. She could hear the bitterness in her voice, but she didn't care. She liked T'Noth and S'Doryn quite a lot. But this man she already hated. "I thought I was just a liar who'd say anything to get what she wants."

A faint smile flitted across his features. He wasn't as handsome as T'Noth-his face wasn't as square, his cheeks were a bit too fat-but he would have been nice-looking if he smiled more.

"I suppose I deserved that."

Jynna looked away. She'd been sure that he did deserve it, but now she wasn't quite so certain.

"I should come with you," T'Kaar said, turning back to his brother. T'Noth frowned. "Why?"

"Because neither you nor S'Doryn has healing magic. You might need it."

Jynna hoped T'Noth would tell T'Kaar that he couldn't come, but he didn't. He stared at the floor for several moments before nodding. "You're right. If you want to come, we'd welcome the help. But we're not to return here for eight days. Are you sure you want to leave A'Vinya and the baby alone for so long?"

"No, I'm sure I don't. But I think I should."

"Fine, then," T'Noth said. "We'll need more food, and S'Doryn wants to be on our way before midday."

T'Kaar took a breath. "All right. I'll be back soon." He let himself out of the house.

T'Noth continued to stare at the floor, as if lost in thought. At last, he shook himself and looked up at Jynna. He gave her a small smile, but he said nothing. She thought it best to do the same.

It wasn't long before S'Doryn returned with several horses, all of

them far too large for Jynna to ride. He must have noticed how she eyed the beasts, standing on the stairs outside T'Noth's door, because he walked over to her and said quietly, "Don't worry. You're going to ride with me."

"Good," she said, still watching the animals. She'd seen horses before, of course, but never the mounts of the Fal'Borna. They were not only the finest horses she'd ever seen, but also the largest. Though she thought them beautiful, Jynna was also frightened by them.

"T'Kaar is coming with us," T'Noth said, tying the satchel of food to one of the saddles.

S'Doryn looked at the younger man, saying nothing for a long time. "That right?" he said at last.

"He says we may need a healer."

"What about A'Vinya?"

T'Noth shrugged. "He's willing to make the journey, and he knows that we have to wait before returning."

"All right." S'Doryn looked like he might say more, but at that moment T'Kaar came into view, carrying two travel sacks.

I don't like him, Jynna wanted to say. Tell him he can't come. But she kept these thoughts to herself, and within a few moments they were on their way, T'Noth riding in front, followed by S'Doryn and Jynna, and then T'Kaar.

Jynna rode just in front of S'Doryn, who kept an arm around her and occasionally let her hold the reins. It was a bit scary being so far off the ground, but the horse responded with alacrity to S'Doryn's commands and she never once feared that she might be thrown. It was a glorious day, clear and warm, and a soft, cool breeze blew across the lake, rippling its waters.

The distance between Tivston and Lowna had seemed impossibly great the night before, but on this day, carried by the great Fal'Borna mounts, they came within sight of Jynna's village in only a couple of hours. Actually they saw the smoke first, well before even the largest buildings-the silo and the sanctuary-came into view. But aside from the shifting cloud of black smoke that hung over what was left of the village, and the large flock of crows and kites that circled low over the houses, they saw no movement at all.

"Jynna, maybe you should wait here," S'Doryn said, his voice low.

She stared at the village, trying to spot her house, searching desperately for someone-anyone-who might have survived the night. "No" was all she said.

They rode on, advancing on the village, all of them silent now. Jynna wondered if the three men were as frightened as she of what they would find.

It was the birds-the carrion eaters-that first drew her eyes to the bodies. The first one made her stomach heave, and she clenched her teeth to keep from being ill. Then she spotted another, and a third. By the time they steered the horses onto the lane leading through the marketplace, she could see so many that she lost count. Already they had started to grow rank, and flies buzzed everywhere. As they rode among the buildings the kites flew off and began to circle overhead, complaining loudly. The crows, though, weren't so easily driven off. They'd flutter away as the mounts stepped past, but would quickly return to their feast.

Jynna tried not to look at the corpses. She kept her eyes moving, scanning for survivors, occasionally glancing in the direction of her house, hoping against hope that she'd see her parents or her brothers walking toward them. But all was terribly still. Occasionally she'd point in the direction she wanted them to go, and always S'Doryn steered them as she commanded. For the moment at least, he seemed content to let her lead the way.

When at last they came to what was left of her home, Jynna let out a stifled cry and buried her face in her hands. Every one of them was there. Mama, Papa, Delon, Blayne. All of them dead, the three men horribly disfigured by their healing magic. How could something as good as healing power do such damage?

"Your family?" S'Doryn asked.

She merely nodded.

"I'm sorry, Jynna."

They stayed there for some time, until at last S'Doryn must have given a signal for them to ride on, because the horse she was on started to turn.

"No!" Jynna cried, opening her eyes and struggling to break out of S'Doryn's grasp.

"Jynna!"

But she fought her way free and fell from the saddle, landing hard on the dirt just beside her mother's body. She scrambled to her feet and ran toward the house.

"Stay out of there!" T'Kaar shouted after her.

She didn't stop. Instead she climbed the stairs and made her way to her room. Most of the house was in shambles. But her room remained relatively undamaged and she dove onto her bed and began to sob, clutching her blanket to her face. After several minutes she heard a footstep at her door. S'Doryn. She expected him to tell her that she had to leave. Instead, he tossed an empty carry sack onto the bed next to her.

"Anything you want to keep you should put in there. I don't expect you'll want to come back again."

"Thank you."

"T'Noth and T'Kaar are going to have a look around the rest of the village. I can stay with you if you like."

"No, it's all right."

"Then, we'll come back for you soon." He glanced around briefly. "This is a nice room. We'll have to make certain that your room in Lowna is just as nice."

He left her, and Jynna began to look around her room for things she wanted to keep. In truth, there wasn't much: her blanket, her clothes, a doll her parents had given her a few years back, a small wood carving of a deer that Delon made for her. She went to her brothers' room and found a shirt of Blayne's that she'd always liked. It didn't fit her, but she wanted something of his. And she found a wooden hair comb that had been her mother's. She took that as well. While in her parents' room she spotted the basket that the old Mettai woman had given her the day before-was it really only a day?-and she nearly took that, too. But in the end she decided not to. She wanted no reminders of yesterday.

When the men returned, they had five survivors with them. All of them were children-boys and girls she knew and had played with at the sanctuary, in between lessons. Two of them were badly burned and one had lost a hand. But they were alive, just like her.

Of the two who were unhurt, one was a boy her age, named Etan, and the other was a younger girl whose name Jynna couldn't remember, and who refused to say anything to any of them.

Etan sat on one of the Fal'Borna horses, looking terribly small, and he watched as Jynna tied her carry sack to the saddle of S'Doryn's horse.

"How did you find them?" the boy asked suddenly. "The Fal'Borna, I mean."

She paused and looked up at him, shielding her eyes against the sun. "My father sent me for help. He told me to follow the lake north to Lowna."

He looked over at S'Doryn and T'Noth, who were speaking quietly. "And now we're going to live with them."

"Yes."

"Do you think they'll let us be Y'Qatt?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Do you want to be Y'Qatt?"

He didn't answer and a moment later S'Doryn called Jynna over and helped her back into the saddle.

"It's only children who survived," she said, as he climbed up behind her. "Why is that?"

"I don't know, Jynna. Maybe it has something to do with magic. One of the girls who was burned is older than you are, but not old enough to have come into her power yet. That's the only thing I can think of that makes any sense."

"But does that mean it wasn't the pestilence?"

"I'm not certain what it means."

They started riding out of the village. From what she had overheard of S'Doryn's conversation with the brothers, it seemed that they were going to stay in the low hills west of the lake until they were allowed to return to the Fal'Borna village.

"Is there anything else you can tell me about what happened yesterday, Jynna?" S'Doryn asked after they had ridden for some time. "Anything at all unusual?"

"Well, there was the old woman."

He looked down at her. "What old woman?"

"I saw her…" She was reluctant to mention her secret spot, until she realized with a pang of regret that she probably wouldn't ever be going back to it. "I met her in a dale near the village. She was working on some baskets to trade in the marketplace."

"And did she seem at all ill?"

"No, she was fine."

He frowned and faced forward again. "Still, she might have gotten sick later. She was Qirsi, right?"

"No. She was Mettai."

"Mettai?" He sighed and shook his head. "That's blood magic. If this is a strain of the pestilence that strikes at Qirsi magic, it probably wouldn't have come from her."

Again they fell silent, until Jynna said, "Her baskets were pretty. She gave me one."

"Did you bring it with you?"

She shook her head. "No. I was afraid it would remind me of yesterday. But now I wish I had."