“That explains everything.”
They laughed again.
The Dreamweaver next to Mirar leaned closer. “Lucky you,” he murmured.
“We should all tell her she’s right about Wilar, but let everyone else know she’s wrong,” the youngest suggested. “How long do you think we could keep the truth from her?”
“Tintel would tell her.”
“Don’t tell Tintel either.”
“She’d work it out.”
Mirar smiled and listened as they plotted their teasing of Dardel. They didn’t appear to be serious about carrying it out, which was a relief.
What would they do if they found out that she was right? he wondered. These Dreamweavers would probably welcome him with enthusiasm. More than enthusiasm. That was the trouble. It had been so long since he had moved among his own people, they now regarded him with awe.
It’s ironic. For a century the gods have spread the lie that we immortals encouraged people to worship us as gods, and now it appears that in my absence my people have begun to do just that.
They’d get over it, he thought. It is not my people I’d need to worry about, it is the Pentadrians. So far what I’ve seen has been encouraging. No Dreamweavers here have been able to think of more than a few conflicts between Dreamweavers and Pentadrians in the last few decades, and those were only about money.
Discovering that a powerful sorcerer with influence over the Dreamweavers had settled here might make the local Pentadrians feel threatened, however. He needed to know what they would do in response, and there was a way he could find out.
Dream linking was not banned in Southern Ithania. Even so, he would have to ensure he wasn’t detected. He would hardly endear himself to the Pentadrians if they discovered their dreams were being spied upon and manipulated.
Rising, he took his empty plate to the kitchen then ascended to his room. Before he could undress there was a familiar knock on his door. He smiled.
Dardel. I could ignore her, he thought, but she’ll be disappointed and I’m not in that much of a hurry to go dream hunting.
Hours later, as Mirar sank into the dream state, he let his awareness of Dardel’s weight and warmth slip away. Sending his mind forth, he found other dreaming minds. He sought their identities then planted the idea of his return into their thoughts.
Their responses were varied, but generally favorable. Some were suspicious of anyone who had power, but none imagined themselves taking action to get rid of him. Most others didn’t care what happened so long as their lives weren’t adversely affected. A few found the idea heartening. They appreciated the Dreamweavers’ skills and thought the return of Mirar could only improve them even further.
Hours passed and he felt excitement growing. He could do it. He could stop hiding and guide his people again. Yet one night of searching dreamers’ minds wasn’t enough. He must do this every night for…weeks? Months?
Then he remembered The Twins. They skimmed the minds of people everywhere, every day. They might already know how Southern Ithanians would greet the news that he had established himself in one of their lands.
He’d linked with The Twins only a few times before. Since he hadn’t met them, he had a more formal relationship with them than Emerahl had. He only contacted them when he had something important to discuss, and he suspected they treated him like the rulers, wisdom seekers and academics who had once sought their advice, long ago—with polite interest.
While he’d found their advice sensible and insightful, he was not as trusting of them as Emerahl was. Just because they were fellow immortals didn’t mean they would always be allies. There was one small oddity that bothered him. All of the joined twins he had ever encountered had been identical. Clearly Surim and Tamun weren’t. They weren’t even of the same gender. Emerahl had dismissed this, pointing out that immortality and the abilty to skim minds were just as uncommon. Still, it bothered him that The Twins might have been lying to her.
:Tamun? Surim? he called.
:Mirar.
It was Tamun. Her response was disturbingly prompt, as if she had been close by.
:How are you both? he asked.
:The same. Little changes here. I am skimming alone today. Surim is out hunting again. Her mind-voice always brought an image of a sharp-witted, wiry old woman to mind, despite Emerahl’s assurances that Tamun looked like a young woman.
:I have a question to ask.
:Wait a moment. I’ll see if I can get Surim’s attention.
:Isn’t he hunting?
:It’s more the sort of hunting you were just indulging in. He always falls asleep straight after…ah, there he is.
:Are you watching me again? Surim accused.
:Of course not. Mirar has a question for us, Tamun replied.
:Mirar! Surim exclaimed. How is life in Dekkar?
:It is good here, Mirar told them. Better than I expected.
:Yes, Pentadrians are a more tolerant people in some respects than those in the north, Tamun agreed.
:I’m tempted to reveal myself—to reclaim my position among the Dreamweavers again. How do you think the Pentadrians will react?
:If you’re expecting a parade, you’ll be disappointed, Surim said. Although I doubt the Voices will come after you with execution in mind either, though they will probably want to meet you just to make sure you’re not a threat to them.
:So long as you don’t challenge their authority or start converting Pentadrians, they’ll leave you alone, Tamun added. But you aren’t known for keeping silent when you disagree with those in power, Mirar. Could you stand by and not protest if you did not like the way they ruled their people? Or your people?
:I’ve just spent a hundred years being someone who did. I’ve learned caution and patience.
:You learned to run when you used to fight. That is not the same, Surim pointed out.
:No, he agreed. I’ll be aiming for somewhere between run and fight.
:You’ll compromise and negotiate? Surim sounded amused.
:If I have to.
:It is a risk to yourself and your people, and a change that you cannot easily reverse. What will you gain from it? What will the Dreamweavers gain? Tamun asked.
:They will have my knowledge to call upon and I think my return will give them hope and courage, especially in the north.
:They may expect too much of you. They may think your return will bring about the empowerment of Dreamweavers everywhere, Tamun warned.
:Dreamweavers do not seek power, and from what I have seen, they still don’t.
:We agree. There is another matter you should consider, Surim said.
:Yes?
:While we believe the Pentadrians will not object to you establishing yourself there, they are still not to be trusted. Have you heard from your own people regarding the attacks in Jarime and the Pentadrian involvement?
:No. What happened?
:Some of the Dreamweaver attacks and murders were organized by a Pentadrian group. They knew Circlians would be blamed for the violence, and took advantage of people’s disillusionment to recruit new followers.
:That is alarming.
:Yes, but the Pentadrians were not motivated by hatred of Dreamweavers but a ruthless practicality. In Southern Ithania there is no need for Pentadrians to harm Dreamweavers in order to find converts, but that does not discount the possibility they may use your people in other ways.
:That would always be a risk.
:And there is one more matter you should consider, Tamun added.
:What is it?
:If you have the Pentadrians’ good will, you may gain Auraya’s enmity.
Mirar paused to consider that.
:I already have it, he replied. So long as she follows the gods, she must regard me as her enemy. Even if that weren’t true, I cannot let Auraya’s regard for me influence my decisions in regard to the Dreamweavers.
:No. Surim and I do not agree about this. Auraya may not share the gods’ hatred
of immortals, but she has little regard for the Pentadrians. Settling here may make a difference.
:I can’t help that. These people do not deserve her contempt. I won’t reject them for fear of offending Auraya. He paused. How is she? I haven’t heard from Emerahl for days.
:Emerahl has been waiting for you to contact her.
:Because she’s worried I will rebuff her for delivering bad news last time we spoke?
:Yes.
:Silly woman. She knows I wouldn’t do that.
:No, but we can’t help retaining old fears and habits, despite the years. It would be tactful for—
:Auraya has made herself immortal, Surim interrupted.
Mirar felt his heart leap.
:Emerahl thought she wouldn’t do it!
:Something changed her mind. She also revealed two unexpected Gifts. Firstly, she has regained the ability to read minds.
:But…no immortals have ever been able to…have they?
:Not in our lifetime, Tamun confirmed. The second Gift she revealed is the ability to sense and hear the gods. Apparently she can see them when she is mind-skimming, too.
:Emerahl wisely advised her to keep this from the gods, Surim added. I can’t imagine they’d be thrilled to know they can be spied upon.
:Auraya said the gods already knew she could sense them when they were close by, Tamun continued.
:That’s… Mirar shivered. That’s not just another innate Gift.
:No, Tamun agreed. It seems Auraya is no ordinary immortal. Perhaps it is the consequence of her being a White first. The powers the gods gave her imprinted themselves on her somehow.
:Except that they wouldn’t have given her the power to sense and hear them when she was a White. That is entirely new.
:No. It may be an unintended side-effect of her being linked to them previously, Surim suggested.
:Whatever the reason, she would be wise to keep it a secret. In a few days she will return to the Open. Then we will see how well the gods take the news that their former favorite has learned to hide her mind—and whatever else she allows them to know she has learned. We’ll let you know what happens.
Mirar felt a pang of anxiety. He had tried to tell himself it didn’t matter. Auraya was out of reach and had no regard for him anyway. Trouble was, the part of him that couldn’t help worrying wasn’t inclined to listen to the part with a grasp of logic and practicality.
:Thank you for the news, he said. And your advice.
:Use it well, The Twins replied together. Then their twinned voices fell silent and he let himself drift off into his usual troubled sleep.
13
“Owaya!”
As a small fluffy blur streaked across the bower, Auraya crouched down and held out her arms. Mischief bounded up onto her shoulders and rubbed his whiskered cheek against her ear.
The female Siyee who usually looked after the veez, Tytee, stepped out of the side room Mischief had bounded out from.
“Welcome back, Priestess Auraya,” she said, smiling.
Auraya sensed relief from the woman. Mischief was making small whimpering noises as Auraya scratched him.
“Owaya back. Owaya back,” he murmured over and over.
“Thank you, Tytee. Anyone would think I’d been away for months,” Auraya said, surprised. She hadn’t seen him so emotional since after he had been snatched from her tent before the battle with the Pentadrians. “Has something happened to him?”
“No. He was fine until a day after you left,” Tytee told her. “He suddenly became distressed, saying ‘Auraya gone’ over and over. Then he became very sad. It was as though you had died and he was grieving. I carried him around with me, concerned he would pine away like old people sometimes do when their spouse dies.”
Auraya lifted Mischief down and looked at him closely. “I wonder.” She let the shield around her mind thin. At once a small, familiar voice spoke in her mind.
Owaya back! There was a fading sadness and puzzlement behind the delight of his words.
She felt a pang of guilt. Somehow Mischief must have forged a link to her mind. Once she had entered the void that link had broken. The only explanation he could have come up with was that she had died.
“Poor Mischief,” she said, hugging him close. At once his delight changed to irritation and he wriggled free. The veez climbed up to his basket and curled up inside.
“Msstf sleep.”
Tytee laughed. “If only we were all so easily satisfied,” she said.
“And forgiven,” Auraya agreed. “Thank you for looking after him while I was gone.”
The woman shrugged. “I don’t mind. He’s always amusing, and a lot less demanding than the children I look after. I must—”
“Priestess Auraya?”
They both turned to see Speaker Sirri standing in the doorway.
“Come in,” Auraya said, beckoning. As the Speaker entered, Tytee excused herself and slipped outside.
“Welcome back,” Sirri said.
“Thank you.” Sensing tension in the Siyee leader, Auraya looked closer. She saw that Sirri had grown concerned as Auraya’s absence had lengthened. The presence of an uninvited landwalker in Si had bothered her, too.
“How did it go?” Sirri asked.
“Very well,” Auraya told her. “Jade has left for home. I learned a great deal while I was with her. She has quite a knowledge of healing and cures.” Auraya gestured to the bag she had brought with her.
“Yet she was unable to treat her own illness?”
Auraya shook her head. “She sent for me because she couldn’t manage what she needed to do by herself.”
“So she’s better now?”
“Yes.”
Sirri nodded. “Good.” She smiled. “We have you all to ourselves again.”
“Did anything happen while I was gone?”
“Nothing drastic. Just a bit of an argument between tribe leaders.” Sirri sighed. “I’m afraid I can’t stop and explain. I was at a meeting between the leaders when the news of your arrival came. I called for a break, but I can’t stay away long. I must go back and try to knock some sense into the two of them.”
“What is the argument about?”
Sirri grimaced. “Mines. The Fire Mountain tribe claim that once the mines pass beyond the ridge that divides their territory then everything cut from them is theirs to sell.”
“Ah. That won’t be an easy one to settle. You have my sympathies.”
“Thanks,” Sirri said dryly. She moved toward the entrance.
“Come and tell me about it later, if you have time.”
“I will.”
Sirri slipped out through the door-hanging and hurried away. Alone at last, Auraya moved to a chair and sat down.
Everything’s back to normal, she mused. Then she shook her head. No, it just seems that way on the surface. My mind is shielded and my body is no longer aging. As far as the gods are concerned, nothing is as it was—or should be.
She had sensed nothing of the gods since Huan and Saru’s last visit. After the pair had sped away to find the other gods, Auraya had expected Yranna, Lore and Chaia to visit, even if just to confirm what Huan claimed.
Perhaps Huan didn’t tell Chaia, she thought. So much depends on Chaia. I need to talk to him. I need to know if he will accept what I’ve done.
She briefly considered calling to him, but that hadn’t always got his attention in the past. Instead she decided to try finding him through mind-skimming.
Closing her eyes, she slowed her breathing and let herself sink into a dream trance. At first she skimmed the minds of the Siyee around her, finding men and women engaged in domestic tasks and a group of children playing a game. Stretching out further, she let herself be aware of the minds in the world as points of thought, like tiny lights, and sought bigger, brighter presences.
She found an unfamiliar feminine presence and guessed she’d found Yranna, sure that she would have recognized Huan instantly. The goddess was not conve
rsing with anyone else, and Auraya could not hear her thoughts. Confirming that she couldn’t actually read the gods’ minds was reassuring. Moving on, she found a masculine presence. It was not Chaia and she continued searching.
I’m doing this to find Chaia, not to eavesdrop, she told herself.
Finally she sensed a buzz like the sound of someone speaking just within hearing. Drawing closer, she felt a thrill of triumph as she recognized Chaia’s voice.
:…are in place. What do you think they’ll do next?
:Depends if they’ve heard about what happened in Jarime. They’d be fools to try the same thing. The second voice belonged to Lore.
:They’re not that stupid.
:No, but if they’re given orders what choice do they have?
:None, Chaia replied. It will be interesting to watch.
:Yes. Anyway, I came to tell you your favorite has returned to the Open.
:Ah.
:Huan will want us to decide now.
:Of course. You know how much Huan likes complications, dull bitch that she is.
Auraya felt amused surprise. She doubted Chaia would have spoken of Huan that way if he knew Auraya was listening in.
:There are interesting complications and there are dangerous ones, Lore warned.
:Auraya is not dangerous—or she won’t be if Huan stops manipulating her, Chaia replied.
:How will you know if Auraya is dangerous if you can’t see her mind?
:Because I took the time to get to know her. She won’t betray us unless we make her.
:She won’t betray you.
:No. Ironically, I have Huan to thank for that.
:So what will you do? Lore asked.
:I won’t let the bitch kill her.
:Even if the others outvote you?
:Especially not then. Things are only just getting interesting. Consider this: there are other ways of redressing the balance. I’ve always favored recruitment over extermination.
:I’m finding I agree with you more and more. I wonder if I could persuade Yranna….
:You’d have a better chance than I.
:I will try.
As Lore flashed away, Auraya began to pull her mind back. She had found answers to more than what she had sought.