“Oh, you can and you will,” the Tuana promised. “But for all our sakes, not until you’re ready for Choice. Didn’t your mother teach you control?”
“There wasn’t—no,” Aryl finished helplessly. Haxel and the others wouldn’t let the unChosen rush out into the storm—would she? What would she do if they came? Did she want them to come? Taisal. Her mother. Should she go to her—did she dare?
No. There was no welcome in Yena.
“I don’t know what to do,” she admitted.
“I do.” Naryn held out her hand. “Trust me.” And know this, Aryl Sarc, she sent. Yena and Tuana’s Adepts will regret every decision that brought us together. We’ll make this new Clan greater than theirs, greater than any other. A Clan of Power.
Feeling her determination, her passion was like that first glimpse of the sky above the canopy, expanding the world beyond its limits, affecting everything she thought she knew.
We’ll protect our people, Aryl vowed, reaching eagerly for Naryn’s hand.
…dreams were not like this.
Aryl brushed her hand along the frond, palm tickled by its soft down. She inhaled, filling her lungs with the spice of fresh dresel. The air against her naked skin was warm, moist, a caress.
…the canopy wasn’t like this. Bare skin was a table set for biters.
“You can come home. As a Chooser, you would be welcome.”
…her mother’s voice was not this voice. She’d never want her back.
Her feet were on a floor of cut and sealed fronds, revealed by lovingly polished nekis wood, patterned in grays, yellows, and rich browns. A yellow swing chair spun on its rope, an invitation. The light of glows caught on window gauze, stroked across wall panels.
…her home wasn’t like this. It had burned. The ash had fallen into the Lay.
They were all there, all who’d died or left or abandoned her. All smiled. All shared their welcome and love. She had only to take a step…only to reach out her hand…
…dreams were not like this.
Daughter. A voice without body, a ripple in black water. Follow me.
Aryl heard a moan.
This is no dream. This is pointless desire. Longing. Foolishness. Stop, Daughter, before you lose us all in it!
Too hot. Why was she under blankets at this time of year? A cool sheet…the breeze through fronds, laughter, peace…
Hot—but there was snow. Ice and snow. Another moan. Her voice?
ARYL!!!! Please. Stop. You can’t be here. I won’t be here. You’ll drag us with you into the Dark…
…no dream.
Dark. Who was talking about the Dark? Aryl rubbed her eyes, blinked at the oillight overhead.
“Thank goodness.” Naryn sat back with a heavy sigh. Her hair thrashed the air, not as willing to relax. “I thought you’d never wake up. You were right. Sarcs are loud dreamers. Where were we? Yena?”
Aryl shot upright. “What do you mean? What happened…I was dreaming?” Her mother’s mindvoice. The M’hir. “What did you see?” she asked with sudden, horrible dread. Everything of her life had seemed to flash by, forced into some childish, improbable wish for only the good in it, only what she wanted. Selfish. Foolish. Her mother had been right to chase her from it. “What did you hear?”
“I heard nothing,” Naryn said gently. “But I saw?” Her smile was wistful. “The world as it should be.”
That didn’t sound too embarrassing, Aryl thought. Then she felt the blood drain from her face. “You don’t suppose anyone else…”
The other tilted her head, as if listening. “Oh, I’m quite sure everyone else saw it too. Here, at any rate. Good night, Aryl Sarc, Chooser of Power. Do try to get some proper sleep, for all our sakes?”
Aryl sank back under the blanket.
Not to sleep.
Absolutely not to sleep again.
Ever.
“We tied their feet together. Suen’s idea.” Haxel radiated dissatisfaction. “Ezgi was sensible enough after that. Deran? You’ve never heard such whining. I wanted to knock him on the head, but our Healer made herself useful and put him to sleep.” A considering pause. “Should have hit him.”
Maybe she could go live underground with the Oud. Aryl leaned against the stone slab of the doorway and gestured a mute apology.
“Never hurt an unChosen to suffer. How are you?” A triumphant grin twisted her scar. “Besides louder than Taisal ever was.”
Underground wasn’t far enough, Aryl decided. Maybe Marcus would take her to his world. That had to be at least beyond the mountains. “Can we not talk about…” she waved her hand vaguely.
As well as ask the sun not to rise. Haxel gave a wicked chuckle. “Enjoy it while it lasts, Chooser. You’ve ruined a ’night’s sleep for an entire village. Probably started every unChosen in Cersi on Passage here. Next time—”
Chooser, Aryl thought with a pang of guilt. “How’s Seru?” she interrupted.
“Seru.” Something flickered in those pale eyes. Caution?
“Yes, Seru.” She tensed. “Something’s wrong. What?”
“Choosers don’t get invol—”
“Answer me.” Aryl didn’t intend the flick of Power.
Haxel winced then scowled fiercely. “Listen to me, Aryl. It’s none of your—”
Not waiting to hear the rest, Aryl pushed past. She’d find out for herself.
Trails had been forced through the snow between the four homes. Only one led out to where she and Naryn spent truenight. Aryl disregarded it, forcing her way through the stuff in a straight line to where she knew Seru was.
The First Scout caught up. “There’s nothing you can do. She’s Joined to him now. It’s too late.”
Aryl moved faster.
Husni opened the door, slipping its rope latch onto a hook. She didn’t say a word, only backed out of Aryl’s way.
Taen rose to her feet, eyes darting between them. Silent.
She ignored them both, going to where her cousin sat on a bench, a blanket around her shoulders, another on her lap. Seru’s hair moved fitfully, as if tossed by a dying wind. “I’m here,” she said gently.
“You shouldn’t be.” Her cousin looked at her.
Aryl thought she’d seen every expression of those huge green eyes.
She’d never seen them dead.
Seru held out her hand, turned it, let something small and tangled fall to the floor between them.
Her dayknots. Her waiting. Her wishes.
Aryl went to her knees. “Seru—”
“You shouldn’t be here. Mauro—” the name twisted her lips, “—doesn’t like you. He doesn’t like me. He doesn’t like anyone. He won’t let me…”
Aryl flinched. What had the Oud brought them? “Of course you like me, silly Seru,” she coaxed desperately, shields tight. “You just need to show him how to like us—”
“He shows me blood. He likes blood. Likes Om’ray who cry in pain—” Seru’s eyes filled with tears that spilled without heed. “He almost killed Enris. Wanted to kill him. Beat him. Kick him. Bones break. Feels good—”
HUSH! If Mauro shared that sending, Aryl thought, blind with fury, she hoped it hurt.
Seru wilted. She caught her, Taen helping. “What did you do, Aryl?” Husni demanded.
He’s taken the babies…Aryl…I can’t feel the babies…all I feel is HIM.
“Hold her.” Aryl rose to her feet and turned to find Haxel, hovering in the doorway. “Restrain Mauro,” she ordered, her lips numb. “I don’t care how. Bring Ezgi Serona here.”
“I don’t know what you think—”
“I will not allow this Joining.”
The others froze, staring at her. Seru gave a wild laugh. “You? Dirty little Yena animal. Think I care what you will allow or not? You’re pathetic. All of you!”