Sovereign

'In some ways,' Lasthear said. 'You have great courage. I have heard how you joined your companions when you could have fled from the mercenaries hunting you down at the Strangers' Sooq, and how you were wounded defending Lynan. But I also see how you are afraid of things which only children are truly afraid of—things inside yourself.'

'I know many adults who are afraid of themselves.'

'That does not mean it is not childish,' Lasthear observed.

'You are beginning to sound like a priest,' chided Jenrosa.

'You are afraid of being a Truespeaker.'

Jenrosa bowed her head. 'Yes.'

'Why?'

'I don't know.'

Lasthear shook her head in disappointment. 'I think you do.'

'Why did you ask me here?'Jenrosa asked irritably.

Lasthear sighed and pointed to the fire. 'I have shown you how to do magik with the earth and with the air.

You showed yourself how to do magik with water. Now you must learn how to do magik with fire, the hardest of all elements to work with.'

Jenrosa looked up excitedly. 'I first met you when you were doing fire magik at the furnaces at the High Sooq.'

'Yes, a kind of fire magik called shaping. I was helping the molten metal find its true shape and hold to it.'

'Its true shape?'

'All people who possess special ability with a craft—weavers, potters, metalworkers, tanners, cooks, storytellers—have the talent to take something raw and unused and give it a true shape, something it was always called to be. Metalworkers take copper or iron or gold and let it become a shape, an object, true to its nature. The metalworker, the weaver and potter and all who work a craft are magikers in their way. My job was to help the metalworkers with the shaping; they can do it without me, but my singing made the job easier for them.'

'This is what you are going to show me now?'

'No.' Lasthear held out one hand and Jenrosa took it. 'Now close your eyes and hear in your mind the incantation I make.'

Jenrosa closed her eyes. At first, faintly, at the edge of her consciousness, Lasthear's words were nothing but a whisper, but as she listened with her mind they became louder. She made out individual words that then flowed into sentences, and sentences that flowed into greater meanings. She understood and started adding her own power to the incantation. Suddenly Lasthear broke contact and Jenrosa opened her eyes.

'The fire is out!' she said, surprised.

'Not quite,' Lasthear said, her voice subdued. She seemed tired.

Jenrosa looked again. Not only had the fire gone out, but none of the embers were aglow either. And yet… She put out her hand and yelped in surprise as she yanked it back. She blew on her palm. 'It's blazing hot!'

Lasthear said nothing but bent over the fireplace and studied the dark embers carefully. She said, 'Show me not burn me' and picked out a piece of charcoaled wood. It sat in the middle of her palm without burning her.

'Souls are like flames,' Lasthear told Jenrosa. 'Let us see whose soul the flames wish to show us.' She placed her other hand over the first and slowly raised it. As she did a flame appeared from the ember and grew as it had more space. At first it seemed to Jenrosa to be just a flame, but soon she started seeing more detail in its flickering existence—at first the suggestion of a body, then definite limbs, and finally a head. 'Lynan,' she whispered.

Lasthear nodded to the fireplace. 'Now it is your turn.'

Jenrosa bent over the fireplace. The invisible heat felt as though it was scorching her skin. Then she noticed that the heat was coming from one particular part, and then one particular piece of half-burnt wood. 'Show me not burn me,' she said and picked it up, placing it in the palm of her left hand. Even though she could still feel the heat coming from it, the skin of her palm was undamaged. She cupped her hand with the other and slowly raised it. A flame appeared instantly. As with the first, she studied it intently, and as she did a figure started taking shape. When it was fully revealed she gasped and almost dropped the charcoal, but Lasthear shouted at her to hold steady.

'Who is it?' Lasthear asked.

The diminutive figure disappeared to be replaced by something that looked like a tree, then a moment later switched back again.

'What is it?' Lasthear asked.

'Silona,' Jenrosa said hoarsely.

'Gods!' Lasthear cursed.

'Does the real Silona know we are doing this?'

Lasthear shook her head. 'No, but it proves vampires still have souls.' Jenrosa could hear the wonder in her voice. 'That is something I would never have believed.'

There was a scuffling noise behind her. She saw Lasthear look up in surprise and drop her own ember. In that moment the flaming figure in her own hand changed. She gasped a second time and this time did drop the ember. She glanced up to see if Lasthear had noticed the change, but her teacher was still looking at the intruder.

'Jenrosa,' Lynan said. 'I am sorry to interrupt your lesson.'

Jenrosa stiffened.

'The lesson was over,' she said and nodded to Lasthear who got up, bowed and retreated. In her place stepped Lynan. His face was without emotion of any kind. Jenrosa thought he looked at her the way he might a perfect stranger.

'I want you to come with me,' he said.

Jenrosa stood up and dusted soot from her hands. 'Where are we going?'

'You're going to tell Eynon about your vision,' he said.

She stared at him. 'But last night you said—'

'You were right,' Lynan said abruptly. 'He needs to make a choice.'

'What's happened?' she asked suspiciously. 'What's changed?'

'As you so told me last night, Eynon will find out eventually. I want him to find out now.' He turned and walked off without waiting to see whether or not she followed. Reluctantly, she did.

They found Eynon with the warriors of his Horse Clan at the western edge of the Chett camp, busy sharpening thousands of sections of roughly hewn branches at both ends. When finished, the branches would be driven into the ground and linked with longer transverse sections to make a stake fence that would completely encircle Daavis.

'When do you want us to storm the city walls, your Majesty?' Eynon asked loudly so his men could hear. 'You can send the other clans and banners home, you know. The Horse Clan will take care of this for you.'

His warriors cheered.

They really believe they can, Jenrosa thought.

Lynan smiled thinly. 'We have some news,' he told Eynon. 'We need to talk.'

'Oh?' Eynon gave the branch he had been working on to a warrior and led the way to his tent. It was hot and stuffy inside and Jenrosa felt nauseous.

'Jenrosa has seen something using her magik,' Lynan said. 'You need to know about it.'

Eynon looked at her curiously; and slowly, the words only coming from her reluctantly, she told the chief about her vision.

Eynon's face went pale and his eyes wide. 'How… how sure are you?'

'Very,' Lynan said for her.

Jenrosa glanced at him. She was certain about the accuracy of her vision, but she did not like Lynan speaking for her. Eynon saw her expression and looked doubtfully at her.

'But you can't be sure,' he said, his voice almost pleading.

'I'm sorry, Eynon, but I think a great tragedy has befallen your clan.'

Eynon opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. At last he managed to ask Jenrosa, 'Their pennant. You mentioned the enemy had a strange pennant.'

'It carried the device of a bird, but not one I recognised.'

'Yes, it would be,' he said.

'You know who the enemy was?' Lynan said.

'My clan's territory borders the great desert.'

'The Southern Chetts! Of course!'

'You in the east call them that. We call them the Saranah. It was once the name of their clan.'

'They were originally from the Oceans of Grass?' Lynan asked, astounded.

'Yes. Perhaps the largest of all the clans. They were butchers and raiders. Eventually all their neighbouring clans combined to drive them away, into the desert. Occasionally Saranah war bands will return to the Oceans of Grass to raid a lightly protected herd, but they've never invaded in the numbers necessary to take on a whole clan.' He nodded to Jenrosa. 'Your vision shows you true, magiker. I believe what you have told me.'