The Night Voice (4 page)

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.”