Chane made no secret of his feelings: Osha’s presence had not been part of the plan and was not desirable. The following days and nights hadn’t been easy.
Neither Chane nor Osha had much to occupy him, and both had too much time to dwell on the other’s close, unwanted presence. It hadn’t helped that both had to be lodged in the same building, on the same floor, almost right across the passage from each other.
Wynn was desperate to discover the slightest hint to the location of the orb of Spirit. In part, throwing herself fully into that task, spending days in research or working with Premin Hawes to decipher very few clues, was an excuse to avoid facing either Chane or Osha.
Something pushed the back of Wynn’s leg, and she spun to look down at Shade.
“Don’t start again!” she whispered. “This is hard enough without you butting in.”
So far she had learned nothing for all her efforts. At first, every dusk she’d quickly checked on both Chane and Osha to give them some report of what she’d been doing. Mostly that was to make them think she was too busy for anything more. Those visits had become less frequent, for she had nothing to tell them ... and the less she had to tell them, the more they might start raising other, more personal matters.
This could not go on.
With a labored sigh, Wynn took the last steps to the upper passage lined with narrow doors, three on each side. She looked to the first on the right and then to the second on the left a little farther down. When Shade whined, Wynn looked down, but the dog wasn’t beside her. She found that Shade was still standing on the stairs behind her.
Shade glanced left and right, likely at those same doors, and then looked up at Wynn.
—Maybe ... not ... talk ... Chane ... Osha ... tonight—
In addition to other unique abilities, Shade could call up words out of Wynn’s memories to communicate with only her. Wynn nearly choked in frustration, for only a moment ago the dog had been pushing her onward.
“Will you make up your mind?” she whispered. “It is hard enough for me to do so.”
—Wynn come ... have dinner ... instead—
Reaching down, Wynn stroked Shade’s head. “Not yet,” she answered, but she stood there at a loss about whom to see first. At the rattle of a door’s lever, she turned her head.
The first door—Chane’s door—pulled sharply inward, banging against the chamber’s inner wall, but it wasn’t Chane who stepped out.
A girl in tan robes, a mere initiate, stormed out with a loud, exasperated exhale and an overloaded pile of books in her arms.
She was only about twelve years old, and her little nose and ivory cheeks were smattered with faint freckles. Two equal braids held back her dark blond hair and framed a too-haggard, grumpy pout for such a young one. She wrestled with keeping the books balanced while pulling the door closed with a petulant slam.
“Kyne?” Wynn said. “What are you doing so late in Ch ... Master Andraso’s quarters?”
Kyne peered over her stack of books. Brief surprise at the sight of Wynn quickly returned to her irritable pout at the mention of Chane. But all of that irritation suddenly vanished again in a wide-eyed smile.
“Shade!” the girl cried out gleefully.
Wynn heard what sounded like a groan from the dog.
Kyne looked up at Wynn, and her little frown returned. “I’m supposed to be teaching him ... or at least that’s what he asked.”
Wynn’s mouth tightened. “Yes, I am aware of that.”
Some time ago Chane had asked Kyne of all people for help in learning to read the Begaine Syllabary, the complex symbols used by sages for recording anything in any language. At first Wynn had been stunned by this, though she knew Chane had a growing interest in all things related to guild methods. Full command of the syllabary was first on his list, and Kyne had learned it more swiftly than any initiate Wynn had ever encountered. Obviously Chane had deduced something similar.
Wynn had helped in the arrangements, as initiates weren’t allowed to do such things, especially for an outsider. Plus the girl had the time to tutor him, since often her own lessons seemed too simple for her. The guild had some public schools, though those weren’t for adults and had nothing to do with the workings of the guild. And Wynn had also been able to offer a special enticement that had quickly gained Kyne’s agreement.
Wynn cringed slightly, not daring to glance back at Shade.
This wasn’t the appointed time for Chane’s lessons. Kyne had agreed to rise well before dawn and teach “Master Andraso” before her own day began.
“He wanted extra time,” Kyne grumbled, rolling her bright brown eyes. “He says we are going too slow, but all the questions ... and questions! He should be quiet, listen, and practice like I tell him. Begaine is not so hard.... I can read it!”
“I see,” Wynn said, but she wondered why Chane was in such a hurry.
Kyne’s expression suddenly changed again as she scurried right past Wynn—right at Shade—with that wide smile breaking free once more.
“Could I take her outside now?” she called, and leaned so close that Shade began shifting away. “Does she need to ... do her business?”
This was the enticement Wynn had used to get Kyne to help Chane.
It had seemed the safest way at the time, rather than involving an actual apprentice, let alone a full sage, in one of the orders. From almost the first time the girl had seen a real majay-hì, right here on the guild grounds, she had been utterly smitten with Shade.
Shade had been somewhat unwilling to participate at first. Kyne would bring her water in the large common hall or take her outside to ... do her business. Eventually Shade had relented—to a point.
If nothing else, Kyne was the only other person Shade tolerated for long at close proximity or as something that took her from Wynn’s side. The dog didn’t like interacting with anyone but Wynn—or Chane as necessary. And as much as Kyne knew that majay-hì were far more intelligent than mere animals, she was only a girl a bit too caught up with glee in tending a supposedly magical “pet.”
Kyne was barely as tall as the peaks of the dog’s high ears.
“Do you need to out go now?” Kyne asked Shade this time.
Shade let out a rumble that almost worried Wynn, and then the majay-hì spun to lope off down the stairs. Kyne rushed to follow, pausing once on the landing.
“Wait for me!” she called after Shade, and quickly looked up at Wynn. “And tell him not to ask so many questions. He needs to listen!” The girl rushed around the corner out of sight. “Shade! Please!”
Wynn groaned in knowing she’d probably hear about this later from Shade. Then she found herself alone, staring at Chane’s door. Any amusing images of the poor child trying to tutor him vanished. Once again she was back to her original dilemma about whom to go see first.
No doubt Chane had heard everything that had just happened outside his room. That made the choice for Wynn.
Chane Andraso watched the door of his quarters and grew impatient until a knock came. He had heard Kyne complaining in the corridor, and, at the girl’s gleeful squeal concerning Shade, he knew there could be only one other person outside.
Striding over, he opened the door, and Wynn stood on the other side ... but there was no sign of Shade. He glanced down the passage toward the stairs.