Another voyage upon water awaited, with nothing to do but to ache for a home that no longer existed—at least not for her anymore. Had it not been for Osha on the journey here, she could not have borne sailing farther and farther from the only land she knew. At least she would still have him for company, and he would soon be far away from Wynn Hygeorht again.
That last thought filled Leanâlhâm with shame. Osha deserved something—someone—to cherish for all that he had lost and the burdens he now bore.
“Hold there!” a masculine voice commanded.
Leanâlhâm whirled in fright and saw an armed man in a red tabard. The way he looked at her as he strode up the dock clearly meant those words were for her, and she had no idea why.
She froze as he neared, and he dropped his head a little to peer directly into the hood of her cloak. Then he frowned and cocked his head in puzzlement, likely seeing her dark tan skin, her slightly narrow face, with those large, slightly slanted eyes that were green instead of amber. Then he looked over her cloak, the one Wynn had given her, and shook his head.
His manner changed instantly, and he stepped back, bowing slightly.
“Pardon, miss. Didn’t mean to alarm you.” Then he looked up and out beyond her. “Is that your skiff coming?”
Leanâlhâm followed the city guard’s gaze out over the bay. She did not know if this skiff came for her, but she quickly nodded just the same. Whether it was this one or the next, she would soon be on a ship, waiting for nightfall.
Chapter 23
NOT LONG PAST DUSK, Én’nish still crouched upon a warehouse roof overlooking the southern end of the waterfront. Though she peered north along the high warehouse roofs, she could not make out Rhysís positioned at the northern end.
A few nights past, Dänvârfij had ordered a cease of all searches in the city. Tavithê was placed on watch at the city’s southern gate, and Eywodan on the north exit, which spilled out onto the road leading up around the bay to the peninsula said to be the home of the dwarves. Dänvârfij herself took watch over the guild’s castle.
They were all disciplined in long spells of wakefulness, but lack of sleep had begun to take its toll. Én’nish hoped someone from Magiere’s group of misfits and traitors would show soon.
The city’s guards had not been making her task any easier. They had been seen conducting their own sweeps through the city. Eywodan had surreptitiously learned they were looking for the sage, whom they claimed had been abducted from the guild. The city guards had been questioning people, using both the sage’s description and several possibilities of attire.
Én’nish and her people now knew that Wynn Hygeorht was no longer inside the guild’s castle.
She checked in with Rhysís at each bell that rang during the city’s day, but neither of them had spotted anything noteworthy. Earlier, Rhysís had reported something that gave Én’nish a fragment of hope. A slender woman in a full cloak had arrived at the docks with luggage, and one of the city’s guards had approached her almost immediately. The cloak the woman wore had somewhat matched a description that Eywodan had overhead the guards mention.
Rhysís had not been able to draw close enough to see the woman’s face, but the guard had quickly departed. So it could not have been the sage, and the young woman was soon loaded onto a boat that rowed for a ship anchored in the bay. And Wynn Hygeorht would have never left the city alone.
Most Aged Father had been clear on this point. Magiere’s people were fanatical about remaining together; they had proven so more than once. Still, Én’nish studied that one ship in the bay until dusk, never noticing anything of interest.
Her eyelids drooped and she shook herself, opening them. Sleep could come once their purpose was complete.
A patch of darkness in the street below moved of its own accord.
Én’nish twisted around, scrambling to the side of the warehouse’s roof. A shadow that moved was now their greatest fear after Dänvârfij had told them what had happened when she had gone to speak with Most Aged Father.
Brot’ân’duivé, the traitor, was hunting them again.
She stuck only the top of her head over the rooftop’s edge, just enough to look downward. Had it been only imagination and exhaustion addling her wits? The darkness moved again, and this time she saw it clearly.
It stepped through a pool of light cast by a street lantern, and Én’nish held her breath.
The near-black majay-hì silently padded toward the waterfront’s far end and Rhysís’s position. But along the way, it swerved into a side path and reappeared a block farther into the city on the double-wide street behind the waterfront.
Én’nish climbed the roof to its ridge and ran to leap to the next rooftop ... and the next. When she was one rooftop away from Rhysís, she clicked her tongue five times. He rose like a dark silhouette sprouting from the shakes, and she pointed his attention toward the rear of that building. When he spotted the majay-hì, his return gestures indicated a question.
Follow?
She was torn, not wanting to split up if the dog led them to something important, but also reluctant to leave the port unwatched.
The majay-hì stepped into the light of another lantern. In that light, a shadow passed suddenly over the dog’s head. Én’nish padded silently to the roof’s rear edge for a better angle of view.
A cloaked figure walked right past the majay-hì, vanishing out the other side of the lantern’s light. The majay-hì followed, but even the brief glimpse made Én’nish freeze. The figure had been taller than any human, with broad shoulders for such a stature. Its cloak and hood were a familiar forest gray.
Brot’ân’duivé had appeared and met up with the sage’s black majay-hì, and he was clearly dressed for a hunt.
Én’nish rose on the roof, looking toward Rhysís in the same instant that he looked at her. For the first time, she was glad that she had teamed with him rather than with Tavithê or Eywodan. Dänvârfij was incapable of understanding anguish and the need for vengeance. Én’nish did not see either as a fault; they were imperatives for justice.
As Rhysís began assembling his short bow, Én’nish held up one hand to stop him. He paused, as if with great effort.
They could not yet kill Brot’ân’duivé. The traitor and the majay-hì were on the move—but to where? Any attack now would cut them off from the answer. If the greimasg’äh had slipped up in exposing himself, he might also expose the location of Magiere and the others.
Rhysís finished with his bow just the same and slung it over his shoulder. He stood waiting as Én’nish backed up to take a running leap across to him. Together they followed their quarry from across the waterfront’s rooftops. This was what Én’nish had been waiting for, and they picked the trail of their target.
The majay-hì and Brot’ân’duivé were not difficult to follow, but that in itself left Én’nish wary. At the end of a row of slightly shabby shops across the street below, the pair stopped at the mouth of a broad cutway nearly as wide as the street itself. In that space stood a wagon with a team of two horses.
Én’nish slowed, ever more cautious as she crept to the roof’s rear edge and leaned out to look.
The wagon rolled out into full view, turning the corner with its team pointed away up the street. As it stopped, a short figure stood up in its back. This small one wore a gray robe and full cowclass="underline" the sage. But even more than that, the driver riveted Én’nish’s attention.