"Living things grow and change," Paladine said. "No matter the length of their lives-one day or all of them. Those who let go of one secret do so in faith of knowing others."
"But I cannot let go," L'Indasha said. "My chance died with Aglaca on the battlements. Huma's kin will never unite, and the rune will never be sounded."
Paladine nodded grimly. "And in the coming storm, keeping the rune safe will be even more dangerous."
"And yet I choose to keep it," the druidess replied bravely.
"You are absolutely certain?" Paladine asked softly. "A choice such as this is often … final."
"I have chosen," L'Indasha insisted. "Only let me tell Robert. I hear him approaching."
On the trail below them, Mort stood and bowed to Robert and Judyth, who ascended slowly, weary after the long day's walk.
"Robert, my old friend!" Mort called out. "Do you remember me? It is very good to see you are well… and happy." Mort broke into a bigger smile.
"I am both, you old ground-grubber." Robert lunged toward him in a rough embrace. "I never did find another chess partner, you know." They ascended together a little way, discussing excitedly the fall of Nidus, the years of Mort's absence, what they reckoned
the future held for them.
Her eyes brimming with tears, L'Indasha looked at Pal-adine. He returned her gaze serenely, lovingly.
The druidess took a-deep breath. "Robert …" she began.
The seneschal stopped on the path. His smile faded and his shoulders slumped a little, but he recovered quickly, gathering himself to a firm, military stance.
"I have heard ill tidings in my time, Lady," he said to L'Indasha, his voice unwavering, "and I have lived through them all."
"It's ill tidings to me as well, Robert," L'Indasha said. And she told him that she could not leave her post as guardian of the rune. For three thousand years, she had served Lord Paladine, the sole druidess in his vast command. In that time, she had hidden the rune well from the curious, the greedy, the malign, unto a moment arranged for a thousand years, when Huma's line would devolve unto two young men violently different, almost opposites. As the rune had two sides, so should its sounders.
"But the moment has passed," she said. "Takhisis will grow in power, and there will be war."
"And we shall win," Robert proclaimed gallantly.
"If the guardian keeps her post," Paladine added softly, "and her solitude."
Robert nodded. "I'll rest here tonight," he said, "and then, tomorrow-"
"Lord Paladine?" Judyth asked, and all eyes turned to her. They had forgotten she was here, so absorbed they were in the sadness of wars and departures. Judyth gasped when the god's eyes turned to her. She felt bathed in a love and peace beyond her understanding, and she knew that what she was about to ask was fitting and right.
"Is there any rule that says this lady must be keeper of the rune?"
"What are you asking, child?" Paladine whispered, and it was Judyth's turn to smile.
"I came over these mountains to gather secrets," she said. "In doing so, I met Aglaca, so I know a little of what Robert must be feeling … of what the druidess must know."
"And?" Paladine asked softly.
"And I shall be glad to keep the rune, if Lady L'Indasha Yman would entrust to me its keeping."
L'Indasha frowned. "But you're to be my helper…." It was Paladine's turn to speak. "Judyth, there is no rule. You may offer yourself, but your choice would be a binding one. Would you become the keeper of the secret of the blank rune? The keeper continues without age, without death, without the company of a spouse, so long as the rune holds power."
The girl looked far off into the night. Paladine himself was asking her to be his servant. But not demanding it. It truly was her choice.
"I choose…" she began, relishing the words, "I choose to become the keeper, my lord." And then she chuckled. "Because I want an adventure of my own choosing. And because you have asked me my" mind. How could I refuse your respect, your love?"
"You could," the god said. "Many do. And you, L'Indasha? Your choice returns to you, if you will have it." "I choose Robert," the druidess said. "I choose to let go of the one secret in faith of knowing others."
"You are absolutely certain?" Paladine asked softly. "You will be mortal again. You will die as others die."
"And I will live as others live.", said L'Indasha. "Yes. I have chosen."
Paladine laid his hands on them and spoke the words of forgetting to L'Indasha, of remembrance to Judyth, and the exchange was complete. Judyth wore the flower pendant with the blue-purple stone. Now it was truly hers- chosen with full knowledge.
As Robert and the druidess made their way down the mountainside, L'Indasha stopped short and crowed with delight. "Look! My daylilies! They were all burned in the fire except this patch, and it was so small and I planted it so quickly-well, just look!"
Before her spread an enormous clump of bright green fans, each one with several scapes rising into the night sky. Beside it lay the signs of warding. Logr and Yr. Water and Yew bow.
Journey and Protection.
"Mort. Of course," L'Indasha breathed. " 'Thank you for the gift,' he said. Bless him."
Judyth heard the last of the druidess's laughter floating up on the mountain breeze. She turned to bid Paladine and Mort good-bye, but they were already gone. She started down the mountain herself and came quickly upon the clump of daylilies. One blossom remained open in the advancing night. In its center, behind a blue-purple eye area, a risted rune-staef, now visible to her in the vein-ing of the flower, spelled the blank rune's symbol. It was now her turn to guard this key to augury against enemy eyes-for a thousand years, if need be-until the coming storms were calmed.
Sothonsien, the rune-staef read, in the old language: The True Face. Revealed Knowledge.
Judyth thought of Aglaca, and then of a ruined face. She wept as she understood. The rune's reverse-its opposite-was Heregrima: The Mask.