She was right, of course. I closed my eyes and turned away, concentrating on carrying Nikis, on gaining altitude, on heading east and a litde south.
But I kept looking back, as long as I could see even the clouds that covered it.
I woke the next morning feeling reasonably well. Varien had moved only far enough apart to let me sleep, but the other beds were empty yet. I was just worried enough to get to breakfast early but Rella and Jamie were there first, drinking chelan and laughing quietly.
When Varien joined us, he drew me aside, and for a change there was joy in his eyes. "Lanen, it is a wonder," he said earnestly. "There is hope for you, and for the babe."
"What?" I said. He hesitated. "Look, it's too early in the morning to confuse me and it's no challenge at this time of day," I said sharply. "What are you talking about?"
"I have dreamt of our younglings, Lanen," he said.
I laughed despite myself. "One at a time, please!"
He smiled. "That is what I thought, and truly it is difficult to tell ages in dreams. They might have been years apart. But I saw us, all four of us, standing in a high place on a glorious summer's day." He cupped my face in his hands. "I cannot tell you what a comfort this is."
I took his hands away as kindly as I could, but it was hard. "I'm glad you are comforted, my dear, but dreams tell us only what we wish to hear. And just so you know, please don't do that." He looked startled. "Holding my face in your hands," I said angrily. "It might feel good to you but it makes me feel like either a child who's being yelled at or a horse that's being sold. I was waiting for you to look at my teeth."
He just looked at me.
"I mean it," I said angrily.
"Very well," he replied, gazing deeper into my eyes than I wanted him to. "And to your anger and your fear, kadreshi, I say that I hear you. However, you must know that I recognise true visions when they come, even if I do not require the Weh sleep any longer. This was the echo of a Weh dream I had not sixty winters past, Lanen."
I was astounded. "Truly, Akor?" I asked him.
He kissed me. "Truly, kadreshi. Therefore, let us hope once more, no matter the cost!"
I smiled at him, for I knew what we both were thinking. We might not have another night to spend together, but at least we had spent the last one in each other's arms.
"Drink up your chelan, my heart," I said. "We need to go."
The Post horses were waiting, spoiling for a run, bless them, and we gave it to them. The speed was balm to me even as the ride shook me out of my comfort and back into pain. I could not tell how far we managed to go in the morning but even Rella seemed astounded. We did not stop to eat, for I knew—we all knew—that every moment I lived now was borrowed. As the morning wore on the aches and the sharp pains grew worse, but I kept quiet as long as I could. It wasn't too bad at first.
Between us we had a flask of wine, which helped, and at every change we managed a swift draught of chelan for warmth. We only ever stopped long enough to change horses and answer calls of nature, but once when the lads were off round a corner I called to Rella. She rode over to join me.
"So—I gather you and Jamie have made your peace," I said, trying to keep a straight face.
"You could say that," replied Rella, one corner of her mouth curling into a smile.
"I could say a damn sight more but it can wait," I replied, laughing. "And what was that about a concession the next time the Service wants horses?"
She laughed back. "I'm amazed you heard that!" She looked at me then, a little surprised. "I really am surprised, you know, but you heard me fine. I'd have thought mat Post horses for three days for four people would be worth a few of Hadron's horses next time we're in need."
"Not a few, Rella. Two."
"Two! But that's nothing to the cost of—"
I interrupted her before she could dig herself in too far. "Yes, two. A stallion and a brood mare. Will that satisfy you?"
She stared back at me openmouthed for an instant, then laughed. "You've done it again, you wretched girl! I ask for bread and you gift me with a feast."
A twinge hit me just then and I must have grimaced, for she moved her mount closer. I held up my hand. "Just get me to Verfaren alive and in one piece and you can have your breeding pair this very autumn."
"Agreed," she said, holding out her hand. I clasped it and held on for a moment. "Rella—I'm so glad that—I mean— be good to him, will you? He deserves it."
"Do you think so?" she asked dryly, letting go my hand as the men reappeared.
"Yes," I said simply.
She looked across at me, her expression softening. "So do I," she said, and we were away again.
We rode well into the night, for we were still travelling faster than Rella had dared to hope we could. The stars were out in a dark night of a young moon and we were passing a range of high hills to the west, away off on our right, when it hit. A deep, sharp pain that time, and so unexpected that I cried out in agony.
They all tried to rein in but I kicked my horse. "Come on!" I yelled. They didn't have much choice. We all knew my only hope was to get to the Mages. How we were going to get a Healer to come to me in the middle of the night without Berys finding out about it wasn't clear, but to be honest I was leaving that to the others.
I wished then I had asked Varien more about what he had dreamt. I tried to see it in my mind, a picture of health and a glowing future, but there weren't enough details. True-speech is a wonderful thing.
"Varien?" I called.
He didn't answer, or if he did I didn't hear him. I tried again. "Varien, can yon hear me?"
I opened my mind, listening, but I wasn't prepared at all.
Hundreds of voices, shouting, frightened—no, terrified.
"Varien!" I cried out. He turned. I tried to bespeak him, but again he couldn't hear me. I gestured to his saddlebag and then to his head. He nodded, drew forth his coronet and put it on.
He wasn't prepared either.
I was overwhelmed by the noise. I could not even hear Lanen through the chaos, though I tried to bespeak her. She frowned over at me as we journeyed, but I could not make out her voice. I called, therefore, to the one voice I had known longest, and like the worst fool the world has ever spawned, I called him by his true name. I would give worlds, I would give years of my life, to have that name back.
"Shikrar! Hadretikantishikrar! Soulfriend, namefast friend, hear me in all this madness and answer I beseech thee!"
"Akhorishaan! Blessed be the Winds, I could not reach you. We are aloft, Akhor, all of us."
"What? Why?"
"See, my brother. Alas for us all! See in my thoughts the fate of our home."
He opened his mind to me and I could not help it, I cried out aloud, a wordless cry from the heart. In truespeech I could manage no more than, "Name of the Winds. I cannot believe it. When, Shikrar?"
"Not yet two days past. We have found the Sea of the High Air, blessed be the Winds, but the most of our journey lies still long before us."
I had only flown that high sea twice in my life. It was a current of air that ran strong and sure from west to east at certain times of the year, but it was hard to find and rested near the very limit of our capacity: the air was thin and cold so high up. "At least you may ride upon its broad back for a little time. Are you all—Shikrar, you are weary already. What burden do you bear?"
He sighed. "It is Nikis, daughter of Kirokthar who was taken by the Winds two hundred years since. She keeps the Weh sleep"—I could hear his mind's laughter—"though how she can sleep through being carried half by me and half by Idai I have no idea!"