The Night Voice (24 page)

Chap hoped Chane was right.

With a shaky breath, Ore-Locks turned to the pile of supplies and chests. “How far to the exit?”

“Not far by what il'Sänke told me,” Chane answered, pointing across the way to one tunnel. “When he entered from that side, he spent days searching caved-in paths and dead ends to find a way in, but he explained clearly how we can use that tunnel to get out.”

“So that passage leads directly to an exit?”

“Not quite,” Chane answered. “Chap and I will have a good deal of rubble to cross on one side of the passage, and the exit comes out beneath a boulder. As to the supplies and chests, you will have to again bring most of them through stone.”

Ore-Locks nodded, and his gaze wandered for three breaths before he answered. “And what do we do once we are out?”

This much Chap already knew.

“We wait,” Chane said, “and we watch. We would never find the others on our own, so Wynn and I . . . and Chap arranged a signal. We will be able to see it at a great distance at night.”

Ore-Locks did not reply at first. He looked about, up and around, his expression turning more grim by the moment.

“Then let us leave this place quickly,” he said.

Chap could not agree more as he huffed once.

• • •

Wynn was exhausted as she pressed westward with her companions along the desert edge of the foothills. The previous night, Ghassan informed her that Chane and Chap were closer, though he was uncertain how close they were to Bäalâle.

How many days and nights had they been doing this?

Putting aside hunting for undead to trek westward was not the relief she'd expected. Hopefully, Chane, Chap, and the others would make it out of Bäalâle by the time she got close.

There was so much they needed to discuss.

She put one foot before the other, pushing forward.

There was also a great need for the supplies Chane and Chap had agreed to bring.

She was tired of figs and smoke-dried meats. No matter how much Ghassan spiced and recooked them in sparse water, they were . . . horrible. At that thought, she looked at him out in the lead.

“Are we closer?” she asked.

With a frustrated sigh, he answered, “Always.”

Wynn looked back beyond Chuillyon, forced to lead the camels, and beyond Brot'an watching over their “prisoner.” Leesil and Magiere followed last, though there was a time Magiere would have been first going anywhere.

Magiere looked back, walking sideways to do so. Wynn waited for Leesil to grab Magiere's arm and pull her around again . . . and again.

Wynn worried what might happen with Magiere once they all returned eastward.

After the night of the ghul, Magiere had changed. She listened, was coherent, and no longer grew angry at not tracking undead. She had also reverted to a state Wynn had not seen in years.

Magiere was too much like she'd been when they had left the an'Cróan lands in search of the first orb. She was having dreams again . . . hearing
that voice again. The dreams had become less frequent the farther west they traveled, but this thought brought no relief either.

Wynn was sickened with fright every nightfall, especially when she didn't see an answering “light” out in the dark. This time, the sun hadn't even dipped fully below the western horizon when she stopped.

“Ghassan, get out your looking glass.”

He turned in a sharp stop, lifted the front of his hood, and stared at her.

“It is not even dusk yet,” he argued. “They will not see a sage crystal in—”

“Then I'll use the staff!”

“No!” Ghassan returned. “Even if they see, it is too bright and might—”

“We are far enough that anyone—
anything
—heading east will not see it.”

At the snuffling of camels, and their smell, Wynn half turned to find Chuillyon watching her. Brot'an closed in.

“Don't start,” she warned before he could say anything. “I'm doing this, and I'll do it again after full dark, if need be.”

Brot'an looked ahead and merely nodded once.

“Leesil,” Wynn called, “get up here.”

He already had his cloak stripped off when he approached, and Wynn tugged the sheath off her staff to expose the long sun crystal atop it.

“Everyone look away,” Wynn warned. “I am the only one with glasses. Leesil, grip the staff above my hands so you have a reference point . . . without looking.”

Sighing, Leesil did so with his free hand. Wynn didn't check if the others were ready as she focused. Ghassan stepped back past her in assembling his leather and lenses into the looking glass. As dusk deepened, Leesil whipped his cloak up over the sun crystal.

Wynn no longer even needed to speak the phrases aloud; she needed only to think them, and she held the dark glasses up over her eyes.

. . . 
Mênajil il'Núr'u mên'Hkâ'ät.

As those final words flashed through her mind, the sharp and sudden
light cleared the pure blackness from her glasses, even with the crystal shrouded by Leesil's cloak.

“Now,” she commanded.

Three times, Leesil whipped his cloak off and then back over the sun crystal, and then Wynn let the crystal go out. She dropped the glasses to let them dangle on their cord around her neck.

“Anything?” she asked, looking back to Ghassan.

After a long pause, he answered, “No.”

Wynn turned on Leesil. “Again,” she ordered.

And again she lit the staff, and again he flashed it three times.

Wynn didn't ask again as she watched Ghassan stare ahead through the looking glass. She wasn't even aware of counting tense breaths until she hit seven. Closing her eyes and slumping, she didn't look at Leesil and halfheartedly mumbled, “Again.”

“Wait,” Ghassan said.

Wynn looked up.

Ghassan stood perfectly still for two more breaths and then lowered the looking glass to point ahead.

“There! Watch for it!”

Wynn did so . . . and she saw the faint triple wink of a light ahead. Her breath stopped completely.

“Let's go now,” Leesil said.

Wynn grabbed his arm. There was more need to be certain.

“What are you waiting for?” Leesil asked.

With the sun not yet set, Chane would still be dormant. That meant Ore-Locks, or at best Chap, had somehow used a cold-lamp crystal to signal. There was one more step that she and Chap had agreed upon for safety, in case the worst had happened.

The Enemy's forces could be on the move elsewhere. Wynn had to be certain those other three orbs were in the right hands before she brought two more within reach.

“How many flashes?” she asked Ghassan. “How many . . . the first time?”

He frowned in puzzlement at her. “Five. Why?”

“We veer into the desert and wait for full night,” she said. “Then I signal again.”

“What?” Leesil said. “What's this about, Wynn?”

This was all that she told any of them, and she ignored all questions. Her next signal was to be one more than the count received. The next response would be one more added to that. And even Chane would not know this until Chap instructed him.

Only in this way would Wynn know—and Chap know—for certain who was coming and who was waiting.

• • •

Later that night, even after the proper signals had been exchanged, Chap crouched upon a rock outcrop in full view of the desert below. He had instructed Ore-Locks and Chane to remain out of sight up here until he acted. They had hidden the supplies and three orbs higher above.

Then Chap saw Wynn leading the way upward before she spotted him.

He huffed once but never looked back for Chane and Ore-Locks.

He lunged off the outcrop, racing downward. Wynn spotted him quickly enough and broke into a run herself. She ignored calls from Leesil and Ghassan to wait, and they collided as she fell to her knees, dropped her staff, and wrapped her arms around Chap's neck.

“Oh, thank goodness.” She sighed, pressing her face against him.

—I missed you too—

It was a relief to speak with her in their way rather than to dig for memory-words.

At quick footfalls behind, Chap twisted his head and saw Chane leading the way downward with Ore-Locks following. Wynn rose up, rushed to Chane, but stalled. She might have intended to throw herself at him but
instead grabbed his right hand in both of hers. The others from below caught up, but Chap was still watching Wynn . . . with Chane.

They both looked dusty and travel worn, but she just gazed up into his face in relief.

Chap did his best to swallow down any disapproval.

“You are here and safe,” Chane whispered, clamping his other hand over the top of hers.

Wynn nodded with a heavy breath and half turned to Ore-Locks. Then she looked beyond him and upslope.

Chap steeled himself for the worst that would come.

“Shade!” Wynn called. Her puzzled gaze moved back to Chane. “Where is she . . . and Wayfarer and Osha?”

Chane was silent. Ore-Locks did not move at all.

“Yes, where's Wayfarer?”

At that sharp demand, Chap's head twisted around to see Magiere closing on him. Leesil was not far behind her.

“Chap?”

He twisted the other way to find Wynn closer now with a dimly lit cold-lamp crystal in her hand. He was trapped between the two women. Not unexpected—and not the way he wanted to explain—but he started of course with Wynn.

—Wayfarer is well and safe and still among the Lhoin'na.
This was her choice, and Shade remained as well to watch over them—

At Chap's words, Wynn's face paled. Magiere strode up past Ore-Locks while looking about. In his distraction, worry, and concern, Chap did not hear until too late . . .

“What did you do now?”

He whipped around and looked up into Leesil's angry eyes.

Then Brot'an and Ghassan closed in and—Chap was suddenly stunned at the sight of a tall, mature elf he had never seen before. Who was this
obvious Lhoin'na, and how had he come to be among the others? A torrent of questions overran Chap's shock and suspicion, but one sharp demand cut off everything else.

“I'm waiting!” Leesil demanded.

“It is not his fault.”

Chap turned at those rasped words and almost snarled at Chane for silence. He thought better of that in the last instant. No one here but Wynn fully trusted anything Chane had to say, and she already knew this was not entirely Chap's doing. Most of the others quieted down the instant Chane went on.

“I tried to make Shade come.” Chane stalled with a glance at Wynn. “She told Chap that Osha and Wayfarer were not done with . . . whatever they went for among the Lhoin'na. Wayfarer insisted that all of you would . . . should . . . understand.”

A dangerous moment came when Magiere stepped toward Chane. Wynn grabbed Magiere's arm, but that was all.

“I am here, as is Chap,” Chane added, and looked down only at Wynn. “Shade will keep Wayfarer—and Osha—safe, as was intended by sending them away for whatever true or half-true reasons. When we can, we
will
go to find Shade.”

Wynn slumped and closed her eyes.

“You have the other orbs?” a clear voice asked.

Chap did not have to look as Ghassan stepped close and looked down as if expecting Chap to somehow answer. He would have preferred to say nothing, especially to this one, but he glanced back at Ore-Locks and huffed once.

“Hidden above,” Ore-Locks answered, “along with the extra supplies we brought.”

Again, Chap studied the tall elf, who had remained silently watchful the whole time. Not long after, they set up camp, and everyone took to sorting out supplies. It troubled Chap that there was one person present whom he did not know. He did not relish the thought of killing any more than
necessary, but for what was coming, he would do so if not satisfied, as he watched the unknown interloper sitting there across the low flames and silently listening to everything.

There was much for everyone to relate to one another, and they had all been apart for so long. Magiere shared what had been learned of undead migrating eastward, including at least one kind they had never encountered before. Ghassan claimed that they had a good notion of the Enemy's general location, though he did not elaborate.

Chap had little faith in the fallen domin's word, especially since he could not dip the man's memories, surface or otherwise. But none of the others, including Magiere, said anything to counter Ghassan's claim. As Chap absorbed this, Leesil asked Ore-Locks a few questions about the journey. When the dwarf began to answer, Chap quietly slipped off from the circle around the small fire.

As much as the others relished some of the fresher foods brought, especially the apples, one member was missing from the circle around the small fire. Wynn sat off on her own, and he circled around her. After what she'd heard about Shade, he waited before sidling in next to her.

—Who is the Lhoin'na?—

She barely turned her head. “Chuillyon. Another fallen sage, like Ghassan . . . but different.”

—How did he come here?—

Wynn turned away.

Chap needed answers, but he was uncertain whether to press for them yet.

“I know Shade is safer with Osha and Wayfarer,” Wynn said quietly, “and sending her with them was my idea. Maybe that's better, considering what we are going to do . . . where we're going next, but I feel so incomplete without Shade.”

Chap could not think of anything to say to this. How many years had passed since he had been taken as a pup to a desperate half-breed boy trapped in a dark and bloody world? And he knew he would never again want to be
separated from Leesil and Magiere, but hard choices were coming. Some were here already.

When he had first begged Lily to send one of their children across the world to Wynn, it had been an ugly thing to do. And worse for leaving a mate he still believed he might never see again. How it would change other things and affect other people was something he had not thought of then.