Why was it that those of Martin’s circle were forever underestimating me? “I would imagine that Martin had neither the patience nor the incentive to observe you as closely as I have over the past two years,” I said. “There are some things at which a woman is an expert before she is eighty!”
The words came out more prim and bristly than I intended, but Karon burst out laughing and I felt myself consumed by his remarkable eyes. “Oh, gods, Seri, how I love you! What I wouldn’t give—ah!” He bit off his words and looked vexed. “Damn! My tongue will not keep still. My habits are all askew tonight.”
He jumped to his feet and offered me his arm, instantly sober and contained. “Come,” he said softly. “The others will remember all their training and believe I’ve eaten you.” I allowed him to pull me off the grass, but I did not take my eyes from him. Everything was changed yet again by that moment’s revelation. Though he avoided my gaze and swallowed his words as if to recall them, nothing would erase what I had just heard. Truth. As clear as the clean-washed night.
We strolled across the garden, up the steps, and into the library, but I might have been treading on cloud or water for all I knew. Only when we halted in the middle of the library did I wrench my eyes from Karon’s face. The others were staring at us, sipping brandy, and waiting. I could not think what they were waiting for.
“We thought perhaps you two had wandered into some other garden,” said Julia, her head tilted, peering at us thoughtfully.
“This exceptional young woman would not get lost in Hierant’s Maze,” said Karon, releasing my arm and immediately retreating toward the hearth. “She has been explaining her theories of sorcery to me.”
As I sank to the leather couch beside Julia, Martin widened his eyes and waggled his eyebrows at her. I felt the blood rise to my cheeks, but before my cousin could come out with whatever clever jibe he was concocting, Karon drew the group’s attention back in his direction. “So have you decided, sensibly, that I must be on my way?”
Oh yes, the grim reality of the night. Somehow I could no longer grasp it.
Tennice snorted. “Seri! You didn’t get even that far in almost an hour?” Everyone but Karon and I laughed, and my face flamed hotter.
“There was no time,” Karon said, clasping his hands behind his back. “The young lady was busy reading my soul and reciting to me its inner workings, telling me I must explain a few things more so as to advance her education.”
“Well,” said Martin, “since Seri was distracted from her task, I’ll tell you that these young lions have sworn on their lives and honor—and most importantly, their tongues—that your secret does not go beyond this room. They understand the consequences for you and for themselves if it should. So it’s up to you. We will take the risk of having you here. If you are willing to take the risk of our silence, then there’s no need for you to go.”
“I’ve traveled enough for the present,” said Karon, softly, and the great hand which had been clenching my heart and stomach released its grip.
Martin laid his hand on Karon’s shoulder. “If you’re to be with us for a while longer, and since I don’t think any of us are yet ready for sleep, then perhaps, as Seri suggests, it’s a good time to tell your friends the history they never learned.”
“As you wish.”
Another log was thrown on the fire. More brandy was poured. The two starving lamps winked out, leaving the pool of light from the hearth as the only illumination. Karon settled himself on the patterned rug and began.
* * *
“I am of a people whose name you’ve never heard spoken, though we believed the race of the J’Ettanne was once as numerous as the Valloreans with whom we came to share a language. Much of our history has been lost, and I’ve never heard any explanation of why we were born so different or whether at some time we had a land of our own. Our oldest stories say only that the J’Ettanne scattered throughout the Four Realms because they were constantly wondering what was beyond the next hill or past the next turn of the road. A J’Ettanni man and wife might labor to build a house and plant a crop, only to abandon them before the vines bore fruit, just because a day’s sunrise was so lovely that they wanted to see what might lie east of their land. Or another might move to the next town when he heard there was a minstrel there who had sung a new song of surpassing beauty. Our neighbors thought our wandering life odd, for they didn’t understand that the accumulation of experience is the essence of J’Ettanni power.”
The flames in the hearth set the shadows to dancing about the room.
“And yet, our people were welcomed everywhere, for their only desire was to spend their power for good. Some could infuse new life into herds and crops. Others could build skillfully and beautifully. They could make light or fire from nothing… well, their talents could be applied to so many things.”
Karon’s face was sculpted by the firelight as he spun his tale of wonder, his eyes riveted on the orange flames as if the only way he could proceed was to convince himself that no one was listening.
“The world was much as it is now. Greed and ambition set people against people, and a sorcerer’s talents were too valuable to ignore when battle was to be joined. Most refused to join the service of the local warlords. To use their power for destruction violated everything the J’Ettanne believed. But the warlords tried to force them by taking their families hostage or burning their homes. Even if a man aided his lord willingly, he might find himself set against an army wherein his cousin, or his brother, or his sister was forced to serve.
“And so a group joined together, calling themselves the Free Hand of the J’Ettanne, determined that the J’Ettanne be a people who would speak for themselves, not subject to any lord. Deep in the mountains that you call the Dorian Wall lay an ancient stronghold that J’Ettanni legend said was a place sacred to our people. The Free Hand rebuilt the stronghold so that all could have a refuge in time of trouble. The secret of its location was closely guarded, passed carefully from one to another of the Free Hand, who swore on the lives of their children to keep it. They couldn’t allow the warlords to discover it.
“About the time the rebuilding was done, there came a split in the Free Hand. A faction calling themselves the Closed Hand thought it was enough for us to have a safe haven, so individuals could choose to serve the warlords or not. Another group, called the Open Hand, looked beyond our own needs and asked why should peasants or knights, any more than sorcerers, be pressed against their will into the service of those who were unworthy? With the gifts of the J’Ettanne, it would be possible to order the world in peace. After long years of disagreement, the Open Hand prevailed, and J’Ettanne rose up all over the Four Realms, proclaiming that there would be no more war, no cruelty, no brutality. No more.”
“How was it possible?” I burst out, unable to contain all the questions jostling each other in my head. “The talents you’ve described are impressive, but not enough to defeat true warriors.”
“Let me show you.” His gaze flicked around the room as if to make sure we were all still there. His cheeks were slightly flushed, and he quickly returned his attention to the fire. This is what they did, and what no one then or since has ever understood.
I heard him speaking as clearly as if his mouth were at my ear. But his lips did not move, and the room was silent save for the snap of a log in the fire. My neck prickled and my mind swelled with a presence that was not the one I carried with me every day. It was gentle and embracing and apologetic, but as undeniable and overwhelmingly powerful as a spring deluge. In that same moment, I felt an overpowering thirst, and I lifted my brandy glass to my lips.