Kédra called out to all of us, his voice urgent in our minds. "Akhor, what is happening? Are you there yet? Time is precious. The Lady Rella says that this Marik will not wait, and I believe her. Find him, I beg you, lest he do more harm. Quickly, Akhor my friend!"
I needed time to think, but there was no time. I could make only a few swift plans. "Shikrar, take Rishkaan with you to my chambers. They are nearest, there you will find water and a place to rest until this is over."
"Akhor, no!" cried Shikrar. "The Chamber of Souls! I must go, I am Keeper of Souls, I cannot—"
"Then call Kédra to watch over Rishkaan for you, but guarded he will be. I know Kédra is Guardian tonight, but I think we need not fear other Boundary crossings for this while. Wait for Kédra to arrive before you go to the Chamber of Souls." When Shikrar and Rishkaan had gone I turned to the others, my people, tumbling as was I in a wind we had never known. "The rest of you, go now out into your chambers, into all our lands. Find if there is khaadish missing or aught else. And if you can, find the hidden thief."
For one last time they obeyed me. Still in silence, the Greater Kindred left the Council chamber quickly. I had seen vengeance in some eyes, fear in others, wonder and excitement in the very youngest, but below and beyond all of these something new. I did not know what it might be, and I had no time to think.
I knelt still, unable to move. So close to my dream, so near the joining of the Two Peoples, and the shadow side of both rose up to blight my bright, shining vision of peace. Rishkaan's words had pierced my armour of courage with the shaft of a dark vision at least the equal of my own.
She would mingle the blood of Kantri and Gedri! Her children will be monsters, the world will fill with Raksha-fire and none to stand between because of her!
The black pull of despair closed like dark water over me. If I was truly destined to bring such evil to the world, better far that I should die at the hands of the Kantri. Shikrar at least would be merciful.
"Rise, Lanen. You must hurry, there is no time."
It was Akor, speaking in tones that dragged me to my feet. Whatever I might need must wait now upon a larger purpose. I stood ready and asked, "What would you have me do?"
''Wait outside this chamber for Kédra to arrive. Then you must go with Shikrar to safety."
"Akor, please, let me do something! Anything! I have to help you, I must, there must be something I can do to help stop that damned son of a bitch—''
Akor waited, a very little time, until I ran down of my own accord. "Littling, I will not allow it. What should you do that I and my people cannot?"
The worst of it was that he was right. I've thought since that if I had any decent sense of the dramatic I would have begged, nay, insisted on going with Akor, as so often happens with the women in the bard's tales. I never did have time for those idiots. Why stand by unarmed and helpless in a fight, waiting to be taken hostage or distract your loved one's mind during a battle? Despite my anger, my despair, my frustration, I did no more than bow my assent and say, "The Winds and the Lady keep you, dearling. I will await you here." And in truespeech, focussed as tight as I could, I added the blessing that Jamie had given me when we parted. "Akor, beloved, go you safe and keep you safe, and come safe home to me.''
His own farewell was a swift touch of the mind like a caress, and then he was gone. I took a small brand from the great fire that lit the chamber and followed the passage out. I had little hope now for myself, but in the face of Marik and his demon master I cared little for that. In my heart I begged the Winds and the Lady to keep Akor from the evil of the Rakshasa, and protect him from Marik.
It was deep night when I emerged, some hours past midnight. I had not realised we had been so long in the Council chamber. A brisk wind blew past, carrying the glorious scent of lansip on the night air, sharp and crisp.
I sat, leaning back against the rocky entrance to the Great Hall. Weariness wrapped round me like my old cloak as I waited for Kédra under the clear cold stars. Pain and terror, exultation, delight and despair may sound the very fabric of adventure from a distance, but even singly they are exhausting. Together I was no match for them, and sleep took me.
XVI
IN THE DEEP NIGHT
Ow! This damned spike hurts, I've scratched my chest with it already. Thirsty for blood the damned thing is. Now take it in the right hand, run the middle finger of the left onto it—damn! Shouldn't have hurt that much. Never mind. It looks rusty as well, I must have Maikel salve the wound once I am on board the ship. Now, what did Berys say—yes, that was it, fill each of the four little wells at the corners with blood. It's damned hard to see the things in the dark. This cloak that hides me from other sight leaches colour from the world. Still, on balance I come out on the profit side of the ledger—I pass unseen, and can see well enough to get where I am going. And anything that gives off light shines like a beacon. Ah, the moon!
Such pain in my eyes. It is overbright but at least I can see what I'm doing.
There! The flash Berys said would signal the beginning, then it goes dark again. Two hours only have I now, in whicb to make my fortune and that of my House forever, but for these two hours I shall leave behind no spoor of either world: no natural human smell, no Raksha-trace to lead the Dragons to me.
I move in a mist of blurred outlines and shadows, drawn by vengeance and desire, glide like a ghost across the Boundary and speed towards their treasure chamber.
As we left the Great Hall, Rishkaan (much subdued) asked if we might survey his own chambers, which were close at hand, before we examined Akhor's. I itched to be gone to the Chamber of Souls myself, but I understood the concern behind his request. When I bespoke Kédra, he agreed to meet us at Akhor's dwelling as soon as he might, but said he was searching along the Boundary for sight or smell of the Gedri Marik and would be some little time, and that we might as well make certain of both our chambers first. He would come as escort to Rishkaan as soon as he could, that I might guard the Chamber of Souls. In passing I bespoke Idai, who flew at best speed from the Birthing Cove. She had just set out, leaving Mirazhe and the youngling in a protected cave. She said little beyond that she came as swiftly as she might.
When we reached Rishkaan's chambers I was hard put to it to mask my dismay, for the disrepair and neglect could not be ignored. I had begun, over the last few decades, to suspect that he was one of those for whom long life was no blessing. It sometimes happens that one among us will grow old in mind before his time, and so it appeared to be with Rishkaan. The only relief is that those so afflicted often pass into the last Weh sleep well before their full years are accomplished. In sorrow I began to hope for such an ending for Rishkaan. In any case, it was swiftly apparent to him that nothing had been disturbed.
My own dwelling and the Chamber of Souls stood nearby and we were there in a moment.
Stopping outside the door I lit a branch and offered in truespeech a prayer of Remembrance to the Winds as I entered, the flaming brand in my mouth. The ancient soulgems of my people, ranged against the back wall in symbolic patterns and set in khaadish, blinked reassuringly back at the fire I held now in my hand, and the soulgems of the Lost lay still in their rough cask, flickering as they had through the ages. I bowed in the old sorrow of their presence, and as always renewed my vow to release them if it lay in my power. It occurred to me to speak to Lanen and Akhor about them, if (as I hoped) the Council changed their minds after hearing her words. Perhaps in this new blending of the peoples there might be new hope for the Lost Ones. I breathed a thought to the Winds to guide the Greater Kindred to wisdom,