Lhind the Thief (27 page)

His projected images were so alluring that I envisioned
myself as he wanted me to. But the grand view of me standing on a castle wall
waving a hand and sending armies on the march only lasted for a heartbeat. Much
more compelling were the memories of individuals. Hlanan on board the caravel
fighting to protect Kee against pirates who singly more than outmatched him.
Kee saying with inner conviction ‘Kuraf will hear me out’ —and me knowing this
was true. And Rajanas pressing a knife into my hand and saying ‘Even a thief
deserves to fight for its life.’

When they work together like that, their strength as a whole
is greater than any single part, I thought to myself. Maybe that’s the strength
in trust. When each depends on the others, knowing they will do their part.
That’s enduring power, because it gives. Doesn’t take.

I’d always had to trust myself. Then came the thought: Even
if I had all that magic Dhes-Andis promised, if I don’t eventually trust
somebody else, well, who would watch when I sleep?

Was this why that sorcerer had not left his stronghold in
Sveran Djur to find me himself?

To him I thought,
You
may’s well get yourself another apprentice because it’s not going to be me.

I whirled about, and took the first running steps back to
Imbradi. Back to the people I liked, and to my old, easy ignorance—

Stay
. The voice
cut into my mental turmoil with a compelling sharpness.
You cannot recross the border.

I stopped so fast I tripped over my own feet and fell
painfully on my tail.
What? Why?

Why do you think I
permitted the girl to let you slip out? I’ve just now bound Rajanas of Alezand’s
troublesome province in a barrier spell. When I am done with them Alezand will
beg for the privilege of becoming a vassal state. In the meantime no one can
cross the border and live.

“A barrier spell?” I whispered the words out loud. I had no
idea what that meant, but I didn’t think it was anything good.

I will send someone to
you.

NO!
I shouted that
thought as hard as I could.

Do not try my patience
too far. I am capable of teaching obedience in a manner you would bitterly
regret.

When in a bind, lie, had always been my policy. Maybe that
was my Andis-Sveranji blood. Hoo. So . . . how much of what
he
said is really true?

I guess I need some
time,
I hedged.

Once again Dhes-Andis’ laughter rolled like thunder through
my mind. I turned and faced south, thinking of Thesreve. Knowing he could hear
my thoughts. Then I shut the inner eyelid.

I could almost feel him battering at my own inner barrier,
but I knew I could hold him out—at least as long as I was awake—and I thought,
Time to run.
But where?

Looking back in the direction I’d come, I descried a
greenish shimmer in the air. Stretching my hands toward it, I felt the warning
tingle that I now associated with strong magic. I thought of Kee’s forthright
face; I thought about all of them penned there, waiting for a mage-war that
they couldn’t win. And I remembered my promise.

Who was strong enough to fight Dhes-Andis?

I wasn’t.

Who, then?

I faced the east, where already the sky deepened toward
nightfall. It was too late for mere military allies. Beyond those mountains
dwelt the Empress Aranu Crown. She would have both the armies and the court
sorcerers who could face down the Djuran invaders.

Rajanas’s voice drifted through my mind,
Kressanthe will tell stories at Court of
this accursed mudball of a thief . . .
I thought of Hlanan’s
Magic Council, all ready to pounce on me.

And I thought: Is Dhes-Andis really my father? Impossible,
instinct said, except my old memory of the Blue Lady and the image he’d sent me
matched. The tall, pale-haired man might be the sorcerer-emperor, who might be
my father. I just did not know. Meanwhile, supposing someone at the Court does
know, and it turns out to be true? Exactly how fast would it take them to sling
Dhes-Andis’ thieving daughter into the deepest dungeon?

The journey would be fraught with danger, all right. But
then, my whole life seemed to have been one long preparation for danger. But
there were always the rooftops.

So, the choice was made. All that was left was the method of
travel.

A cold breeze sprang out of nowhere, and tugged at the hood
of my cloak.
I will send someone to you.

I shuddered so hard my teeth rattled in my head.

A
fast
method of
travel.

I began to run through the grasses, listening to the world
around me. Before too long I raced into the strengthening wind on the back of a
wild, long-limbed prairie horse.

You are
mine . . . You are mine . . .

I pressed my knees against the horse’s sides, riding hard,
as if I could escape that echo in my head, until the sun sank below the
mountains in the west, and my mount slowed and slowed to a drooping walk.

I slid off him to walk him until he had cooled, and let him
trot off in search of water. The clouds had piled high into the sky, blocking
the emerging stars. I had avoided any signs of habitation, but now I sought some
kind of shelter. The land was too flat for caves. Maybe a barn?

The rain had begun before I found what I was looking for, a
ramshackle corn bin on the edge of a big farm. This being spring, it was empty
except for left-over seed corn, spiders, and a small nest in a corner. I was
soaked to the skin, so I pulled off my clothes and laid them carefully over the
nearest corn barrels. Oh, the glory of having my hair free! A couple flexes of
my scalp, a shake as my fuzz ruffled up, and the rain shook off me, leaving me
slightly damp. I hadn’t thought to dig into the knapsack Kee had given me until
that moment. I discovered not only an extra pair of trousers, a tunic, and a
knit cap, but a fresh loaf of bread and a hunk of cheese. Such riches, better
than diamonds, I thought happily as I pulled on the clothes, and then broke off
half the loaf and the cheese.

When I’d eaten, I climbed up under the rafters, spread the
cloak over the moldery hay left up there, set my weapons and the diamonds next
to me and lay down, my hair settling over me like a warm cloak.

I lay back, exhaustion weighing me down as I listened to the
roar until I caught a faint sound. A steady sploosh, sploosh.

Footsteps.

Sleep vanished. I sat up, reaching for one of my daggers as
the door creaked, then slammed open, letting in a whirl of cold air and rain
spatters.

The invader struggled to shut the door, making too much
noise to be successful as a sneak.

I raised the dagger as I eased into a better defensive
position—

Then lightning flashed, blue-white and shocking.

I recognized that silhouette in the doorway.
“Hlanan?”

Lightning flared again. He shivered, wet through. Blinking
rain from his eyelashes—the drops glinted like Faryana’s diamonds in the sudden
flare—he stuttered, “You never looked behind you.”

“I don’t understand. Did you follow me by magic?” I asked as
I flung all my weapons and jewels and food back into the pack, and climbed
down.

“No. Can’t do magic now. Dhes-Andis would be on us in a
moment. You do know that?” His quiet voice, barely audible above the low rumble
of thunder, laid emphasis on the ‘do.’

“I figured that out,” I said. “Too late. I mean, you know
about the barrier spell he laid over the border?”

“Yes. But it is worse than that. He has to know your magical
signature by now. I think he might know mine. Neither of us can do magic, even
an illusion. He’d be on us in a heartbeat.” Then, “How did you know about
border spells?”

Thunder rumbled and the rain roared overhead. I wished I
could see him, but I didn’t really need to. I could feel his tension.

“He pounced on me not long after I passed the last border
marker, and was trying to figure out where to go,” I shouted against the
rolling thunder. “Not in person! In my head! He can do it anytime he wants to.
But I know how to keep
him
out, now.
I think. I hope. Or . . . hmm.”

Hlanan’s voice dropped as the thunder faded away in fretful
rumbles, “What did he say?”

“I’ll tell you, but first, sit. You’re shivering so hard I’m
afraid your bones will crack. Here. Where’s your pack?”

“I don’t have one. Came away without.” His voice stuttered.
“Found you gone. My fault. I had to find you. Talk. Thought we’d transfer
back.”

I sighed, and pulled off my cloak. “Put this on.”

“No, I can’t take your . . .”

“Flames! My hair keeps me warm enough. Put it on.” I flung
it around him.

Abruptly the rain lessened to the musical sound of drips.
Lightning flared again as Hlanan settled on an upended bushel basket, and as
the thunder rolled away into the distance, he said, “Why did you leave?”

“Because you said you didn’t trust me.”

“I—”

“You did. I heard you. I was listening under the window,” I
said. “So I left. That explains
me
.
Why did you have to find me? Did you think up some more accusations, or is this
your plan for doing some nasty magical thing to me to take me prisoner for your
Council?”

Lightning flared again, revealing his bent head. When he
looked up, he’d gotten control of the stuttering, though his voice sounded
gritty from the effort he made. “When I discovered you were gone. And Kee admitted
to what she’d done. I scried you. Difficult spell. Focused on your location.
Came alone. Dared not risk anyone else.”

I remembered what could happen if transfer magic went awry,
and my neck hairs stiffened, tickling against the back of the tunic collar.

“When I recovered. From the magic. You had gone out of
sight. Was going to return. Scry you again. Discovered that the border was
warded. Couldn’t cross it.”

He fell silent. All I could see was his silhouette, grayish
against the inky shadows of the barn. Angry and unsettled, I waited.

Finally he said, “So I set out after you on foot. I hoped
you might go east. I spotted you down-slope in the river valley, summoning
those horses. I managed to catch up with them before you vanished over the far
ridge. Rode after you.”

“That explains what you did. Not why.”

“I wanted to explain.”

“Explain what? I think I heard pretty clearly what you think
of me.”

He shook his head. “You heard what I said, but not why I
said it.”

“‘I can’t believe anything she says.’ Even someone as
ignorant as I am can understand that much.”

He flinched as though I’d struck him. “‘Though I want to,’”
he repeated, low-voiced. “Did you not hear that? Though I want to. Lhind, you
don’t know what’s at stake.”

“Oh, and
now
you’ve decided to tell me everything, when you accused
me
of not revealing my own secrets?” I could hear my own nasty
tone, and squirmed. I did not like the way I was behaving, but I couldn’t seem
to stem the flow of bitterness.

“No,” he said, his voice low. “Not everything. There are
oaths to be kept. Others’ secrets I have no right to divulge. Some of it
unrelated to the problems before us now. And none of them as disturbing as the
fact that you kept your connection with Dhes-Andis hidden.” He burst out, “Do
you have any idea how terrifying that was to hear?”

“I do now,” I admitted. And so, because I needed to get it
out, I told him what Dhes-Andis had said to me about magic, and about my
origin.

Hlanan listened without interrupting. As I was finishing,
another brief, violent band of rain came through, too loud for speech, but he
seemed to need the time to consider. So did I, though my thoughts chased in a
useless circle.

When the ran lessened, he said, “Is that it, then? No more
surprises?” I could hear him trying to smile.

“Isn’t that enough?” I retorted. And then, to make sure, I
said firmly, “That’s my budget of secrets. All of ’em.”

“I’m glad you don’t believe everything he says.”

“So he does lie. I thought so!”

“Yes. No, not outright. It would be part of the game he plays
to tell the truth, but not all of the truth. Using just enough of it to prod
you into believing what he wants you to. For example, his being your father. I
doubt very much that that is true. But you might be his niece, for there are
rumors that his older brother married one of the Snow Folk. Dhes-Andis was
quite angry about that.”

“So that man with the pale hair. The Blue Lady. They might
be my parents, then?”

“Perhaps.” His voice was husky.

I said quickly, “I think we ought to sleep. Since we’re
here, and neither of us wants to trudge in the rain.”

“Lhind, I apologize. For everything I have done wrong.”

“All right. I don’t like being mad, anyway. It’s too tiring.
Here. You can have the loft. It was slightly warmer up there.”

He got up. I could almost feel his effort. He climbed to the
loft, and I heard the little sounds of him settling down.

I looked about me in the flash of distant lightning, and
spotted a stack of feed sacks opposite the corn barrels. I felt my way to them
in the darkness. They were rotten with dust and dried-out mildew, but better
than the damp ground. I dragged them out and curled up on them.

I’d just closed my eyes when a horrible thought occurred to
me, and my eyes flew open. “I don’t dare sleep,” I exclaimed. “What if the
inner eyelid isn’t enough to keep him out? Can he get into my mind when I am
dreaming?”

“It sounds like you’ve the right instinct. If it helps,
think of your inner eyelid as a mind shield.” Hlanan’s tired voice floated
down. “Try this. Imagine going into a little room with no windows, locking the
door, and then lying down to sleep. That’s how we are taught.”