I met Caderan running in my direction. He slowed when he saw me. He was badly out of breath. ''The Raksha—held off the Dragon—long enough for me to get away. But the cabin is gone—and so is the girl."
My hands were around his throat without my thinking of it "And what good are you to me now, sorcerer?" I asked, finding satisfaction in the feel of his throat beneath my fingers as I tightened my grip. "Now I must live with this pain forever, and in the matter of the Dragons all dissembling is useless. I never thought to live this long when that beast came through the wall. Now that the Dragons will kill me on sight, what good are you to me?"
I shook him once more and pushed him away. He fell to the ground.
"I am your only hope, Marik," he said, coughing as he lay in the dust. "How else will you survive if it comes to an attack? Remember, Merchant, only I can provide a shield against dragonfire."
The worst of it was that he was right. I would have to suffer him a little longer, at least until tomorrow, the last night of the Harvest. Then I could—no.
Tonight.
It would be the last thing they'd expect, to do so bold a thing after so great a defeat. And who in his right mind would leave a Harvest early?
Only one who intended to be long gone by the time the Dragons noticed anything was amiss. I hauled Caderan to his feet and drew him swiftly after me. We slowed when we drew near the smoking remains of the guards' cabin, but as the beast was nowhere in evidence, we slipped into my own cabin unobserved.
I closed tight the door and threw wood on the fire. ''Now, demon caller, you will learn for me if this night is a good time to go into the dragonlands."
He looked surprised, but only for a moment. "I have ascertained it already, my lord. You asked me to consult them when first you purposed to go there. I learned at that time that tonight and tomorrow night are equally auspicious."
"You never said anything about tonight before," I growled at him.
"It did not seem important. I knew you planned to wait until the last night." He must have seen my displeasure and doubt, for he went on, ''My lord, the creatures hold some kind of assembly among themselves for these two nights. They are well distracted. There is still a Guardian, but its thoughts will be far from you."
It was then that my vague thoughts became a plan of action. I mastered my anger and spoke softly. ''Very well. Good master Caderan, I pray you send for my guards. Let word be spread that the Harvest is over, for fear the Dragons will attack again. Send out to the farthest reaches where the Harvesters have gone and tell them they must return, for we leave at dawn. Let the Master of the ship be notified that as soon as may be, we shall decamp and take all on board."
I turned to him, my anger now become determination. ' i shall keep to the timing we arranged, that I may come straight from that place and onto the ship by morning. Go now. I would be alone."
He left, and I heard him shouting for my guards. Good.
A vision of the gems rose before my eyes, bright and enticing. By night's end the creatures would pay for robbing me of my only hope of pain's ending. I shuddered again as the vision of that silver beast pulling down the wall rose in my memory. By the powers, I would have mastery over it yet.
I ran my fingers over the ring on my hand, its circles warm now with my heat, and I felt a slow smile spread over my face.
Let it come.
As I sat recovering in Akor's chambers I heard a curious voice. "May I bespeak you, Lady Lanen? Kédra speaks."
"Of course," I replied, bemused. For an instant I feared for Mirazhe, but his mindvoice was calm, even pleased.
"I stand Guardian and so may not come to you, hut I have not yet given you my own thanks for saving my dear one and our youngling.''
"Is Mirazhe well?" I asked.
I could hear the smile in his voice, even in truespeech. ''She and the babe are wondrous well. They send you their greetings."
I grinned. ''Surely the little—uh, the littling is a bit young to speak yet!"
"I see now why Akor is so drawn to your people," said Kédra in a curious tone. "There is great pleasure in teaching. When we are first born, Lady, we have little control over our bodies, but our minds are well awake. My littling cannot send thoughts, not in words, but his mother can see the pictures he makes and get a sense of his feelings. She sent him a picture of you this morning, and he remembered with pleasure."
He remembered.
Newborn, and he remembered me.
I would never have forgotten that face, those eyes gazing into mine, but I never dreamed that he would remember.
"Oh, Kédra, what a gift you have given me," I whispered. "I had no idea. We don't start remembering until we're three or four years old, and then only in patches.'' I hugged the thought to me. It was a kind of immortality, to be remembered by a creature who would live so far into the future I could not imagine it. "Has he a name yet?"
''His use name is Hjerrok,'' said Kédra proudly.
I almost laughed aloud. Why couldn't they come up with something a human could actually pronounce for a change? I tried it a few times out loud and replied in truespeech, "Well, the best I can do with that is Sherok. Bless Sherok and his mother, and you Kédra, for all you have given me. Your friendship and your kind regard are gifts beyond measure.''
"They are yours and your family's for all time, Lanen Maran's daughter. You have saved the two lives I value most in the world, and though I can never repay such a gift I will do what I may.''
''Akor has told me that Rella is with you. Your greatest gift to me now is to guard her well,'' I replied. ''Akor has been speaking with your father, and he comes now to tell me how the Council is drifting. I must go.''
"Then fare you well, Lady Lanen. I am at your service as long as I live.''
''Farewell, Kédra. The blessing of the Lady on you and your family.''
Akor entered his chambers slowly, his soulgem dull even in the bright firelight. I wished yet again that he had an expression I could read—but no, he had told me, with them it was the stance and the way they held their wings, what had Akor called it—oh, yes. Try to read his Attitude. "What news then, dear heart? Has the Council come to a decision?"
"Not yet, but they approach it." I heard the weary note in his voice, like a sigh. "It does not bode well for us, dear one. That was the last word Shikrar gave me. He has been most eloquent in our defence, but the tide of the debate goes badly against him."
I was almost afraid to ask, but my choices were rapidly disappearing. "And what exactly can the Council do to us?"
His voice was right at the edge, I could hear his control slipping. The glorious rescuer, the tender beloved who had left not an hour since was gone, and in his place stood a defeated soul. That frightened me as much as his words. ''They might find against us both, or against either one of us. They might demand that we part, that we be exiled, that I give up the kingship, that you be kept here forever apart from your own Kindred, or—"
He did not finish, but I did not need to hear him speak the words. If the Council was against us, I must of necessity ask Akor to decide between me and his people, the one thing I had sworn to myself not to do. I felt my heart plummet into my boots. This last defeat, from so unexpected a quarter, was the one too many. My legs gave way and I fell to my knees.