"Watch well, lest we find a demon in our midst."
I did not need deep understanding to know that he was thinking it more than usually likely, and that mine would be the burden of having allowed it to come in. It was, after all, just possible that the little one—no, use her name, that Lanen Kaelar was a pawn in some greater game, not herself corrupt but allowing corruption to gain entry.
It was possible.
But the moment I left Shikrar I felt the deep joy of our meeting seeping through my anger and disappointment, and I could not believe that evil lurked near her.
It is unfortunate but true that the proof that there are rocks in the field is usually the fact that we have just hit them with the plough.
I don't know how I managed to sleep at all that night. Every time I closed my eyes I would see that silver face so close to mine, the eyes vulnerable mere inches from me, hear that voice that sang in my mind, breathe in the wild, strange smell of him, and open my eyes to let out the tears of wonder.
I have discovered in the long years that I have been blessed above many others; for when I took the chance to follow my dream, I not only found what I sought in the deep shadow of trees beneath the moon—I was given the gift of not finding what I had hoped for. What I found surpassed my longing, my desire, my very imagination, beyond the power of my limping words to tell.
I was in a daze all the next day as I gathered lansip leaves with the rest, hardly speaking, not eating at all—but inside that daze I was gloriously alive. I heard every note of every bird's song, every rustle of wind in the lingering leaves high on the trees; I smelled the different woods thrown on the fires, the heady scent of lansip all around me, even the subtle hint of spice and healthy autumn rot below all. I felt the smallest twigs crackle beneath my boots, and below that and around, the brown autumn grass bent and broke as I passed: The misty rain that came up in the early afternoon sparked cold on my cheeks. I opened my mouth like a child and sipped at the rain, and I could not remember a sweeter drink. The leaves as I gathered them in bundles were soft on my hands, harsh the raw canvas bags we stuffed them in, hempen rape rough against my palms as I tied the bags shut. I was like a child indeed, discovering the world for the first time, seeing all things new in this strange, frightening clarity, and in each moment and each sensation I came back to the wonder of the Dragon.
Kordeshkistriakor.
I had been afraid I would not be able to remember it, so long, so strange—yet as I came away from our meeting it rang in me like a wondrous bell.
I found, though, that the human mind can only hear a little exaltation. By midafternoon I was dropping on my feet, and I had to return to the tent and sleep while the others worked. Luckily I was not alone. It seems that the pattern among the Harvesters was to gather leaves until you were about to drop, then go back to camp, eat, sleep as little as possible, and back to it. I had heard people coming and going all night as I lay and tried to sleep, and all morning they came and went, no rhyme or reason. My comings and goings went unnoticed, for all were doing the same.
I did not rest long. I woke to a buzzing of voices and realised I had slept only an hour or so. It might have been five hours past midday. Marik had called us all to assemble by the cookfires. His lovely voice was grim. Around me the others murmured, wondering what was to do.
Marik stood by the tire, his men behind him, a horrible bloody bundle at his feel. "I was called by the Guardian this noontide," he said loudly. He need not have bothered, he had everyone's attention. "This poor dead fool decided I was a liar and crossed the Boundary last night. They returned his body this morning. He looked around at our closed faces. "I need your assistance with this, I fear. I would ask you to come and look at the body. I do not know this young idiot's face or name; perhaps one of you might be able to tell me."
I knew perfectly well who it was, but his brother was there long before me. I had not seen him in the darkness last night, the body was too far away; now I saw clearly, as could we all, the wreck of that young man. The huge gash in his body, the head at a sickening angle, and on the dead face a grimace of terror. It turned my stomach, I wrapped my arms about myself and was glad I had not eaten for many hours. I had seen death before, but this was horrible. I kept telling myself he was a thief, he was a thief—but it made no difference. He had been a young man with all his life before him to change his ways, to atone for any evil.
A general murmur arose, filled with outrage and anger. Marik was waiting for it.
"If you're thinking of revenge, you may as well give it up now," he said over the muttering of the crowd. "How should you revenge yourselves against creatures that can kill like that? I have seen them. They have claws the size of my arm and teeth to match, and they can fly. You fools, they are True Dragons! You could all stab at them with swords of the finest southern steel for a hundred years and they would never feel it. I tell you again; the Treaty protects us, the Boundary protects us, but if you cross it you will be as dead as—as—"
"Perrin," said his brother Darin brokenly, his face white with shock. "His name was Perrin."
Perrin, I thought. Perrin. I will not forget.
No one should die like that. Not even for being a thief. Somehow I must say that to my large brother.
Caderan and I wandered back to my cabin together after the body was identified. "A useful lesson, at least," I said as we walked. "It should stop any more forays into the dragonlands. I can't afford to lose any more Harvesters."
"Indeed, my lord. It is certain that the Harvest cannot be extended? We are so shorthanded."
"If you want to go and ask the beasts and be killed for your pains, I do not," I snapped. He just looked at me. "Forgive me, Caderan," I said, "the pain is bad today. No, the Guardian told me six nights, leave at dawn on the seventh, and I intend to do just that. Now," I said as we entered the cabin, "we have gone over the artifacts that you and Magister Berys prepared the boots that mask sound, a cloak of deep shadow to hide me in darkness, the amulet to cover scent, and all with no trace of the demons that made them. Now, what is this ring he has sent?"
"The Ring of Seven Circles: It is a great work, Lord Marik," simpered Caderan. "There are none alive save Berys who have the power to make such things. This alone would be worth the tenth part of your harvest." He lowered his voice, as if he feared he might be overheard. "It is a weapon that will work against True Dragons. Each circle is more destructive than the last. With this, you may withstand one of the creatures easily—two, if you are prudent—but you must have it on your hand for the spell to work. Each circle has a release word—should you wish to fire off the first circle, you would point the ring at the Dragon, speak the ward and twist the outer circle thus."
I took a close look. It seemed no more than an ugly piece of jewellery, but when I put it on I could feel the pulse of the fires that coursed through it. I quickly removed it. "Surely this is a last resort. My whole plan is to avoid a pitched battle, and if it works—what shall I do if I do not need it? What then of the price I have paid?"
"Magister Berys told me that he hoped you would not need it, for he could sell it at three times the price to any number of adventurers."
"Very well." Soberly I began to consider the possibility of having to fight Dragons. "There is one more thing to be done, though, and Berys said that you could do it. He said you would be able to weave a spell to protect me from dragonfire."
"Yes, he mentioned it to me. I have been gathering the materials I need, but a few things I still lack, and you must provide one of them."