The two of them had taken only a few steps when ...
A leggy, light brown majay-hì ahead to the left whirled from watching over tussling pups. She lunged down into the gulley and stared toward the far end. In less than two breaths, others of the pack stopped and turned.
Wayfarer did so as she heard Shade rumble shortly. Something shook the low branches at the gulley’s far end.
A silver-gray majay-hì pushed out through the brush.
“Chap!” Wayfarer shouted, running to him.
There had been a time he was so sacred, she did not dare touch him. Then there was a time when she would but was still in awe of him. And later, even needing him curled up beside her at night, she found the old reverence was still there.
Now she skidded in, fell to her knees, and threw her arms around Chap, nearly knocking him over and sending both of them tumbling. Much as she had come to adore Shade, she had missed the one who nurtured her earliest self-discoveries.
“Oh, Chap!” she cried again, even as he grumbled at her. “You are safe ... safe!”
—Yes ... I missed you too, but enough ... Wayfarer, enough!—
She had barely sat back, determined not to cry, when the brush beyond Chap rustled and tree branches parted.
Osha emerged into the gulley’s end, and Wayfarer’s body clenched.
He stopped just beyond the trees, looked her up and down, and then dropped his gaze.
A part of her still clung to him. Another part found him a distraction for the mix of resentment, betrayal, and longing she still felt toward him. This was why she had stopped going to see him a moon ago.
Wynn had sent him away, but Osha still kept her with him ... inside.
Chap shoved his head into Wayfarer’s shoulder.
—Not now ... There is much to do—
She should have reveled in the sound of memory-words in her mind from him.
Some of the pack were closing in, a few rumbling softly. None of them knew him, but they knew he was not one of them. She never had a chance to show them.
A wide and stout form with loose red hair thrashed out of the trees behind Osha.
Even at night by the glowing lanterns, Wayfarer recognized him. He was a friend of Chane’s who had helped them escape from Calm Seatt. Osha stepped closer behind Chap, watching her again. Even before she realized what all of this meant ...
—We have ... the three orbs—
“Where is Chane?” she asked Chap.
“Back in the city, guarding our cargo,” Osha answered.
Wayfarer looked up once to see the scowl on his horselike face. And then Vreuvillä appeared, standing over Wayfarer.
“What is the meaning of this overly late visit?” the priestess demanded.
“Forgive us,” Osha answered. “It was necessary.”
His use of the Lhoin’na dialect had improved.
Wayfarer ignored him and focused on Chap. In recent days, she had worked with Shade on something new. The sharing of memories involved more than mere images, sounds, and touch and smell. There were emotions connected to them.
Wayfarer had shared memory after memory of Chap with Shade, his daughter, showing that daughter how Chap had protected her, befriended her, given her comfort. She hoped this might ease some of Shade’s own resentments toward her father.
Now Wayfarer twisted on her knees away from Vreuvillä and looked back. Shade had stepped forward within reach, likely out of habit, for they needed touch to speak her way. She did not approach her father, though at least she was not bristling with hackles raised.
Shade huffed once at her father.
Chap stared back at her, wide-eyed and motionless, perhaps afraid to do anything to ruin even so little acknowledgment.
Wayfarer turned the other way and looked up at Vreuvillä, though she never got out a word.
“Yes, I see it is time,” the priestess said, her voice tight as if restraining something. “And you are done learning ... at least what you are.”
Wayfarer rose up and nodded.
“You will come again to finish,” Vreuvillä said quietly, “when there is time again.”
Wayfarer could only nod, swallow hard, and look around the gulley at its lanterns and all of the majay-hì. This was not her home; that would be somewhere else with Magiere, Leesil, and Chap when all was done. And still ...
She had known this was coming and did not like it.
Hidden among the trees and dense foliage, Chuillyon absorbed all that he saw and heard. It was almost too much, even for missing pieces that left him frustrated.
After gathering her belongings and saying short good-byes, Wayfarer left with Osha, the dwarf, and the silver-gray majay-hì, and Shade as well.
Yes, I see it is time.
The vexing priestess’s words were the crux, but time for what? In a long life in the light of Chârmun, Chuillyon hated the darkness of ignorance most of all. And he was going to do something about that.
Chapter Ten
Upon reaching the one city of the Lhoin’na, Chap and the others headed for the stable. After lodging the wagon and horses, they decided to find an inn for the night. Osha mentioned he already had one in mind.
Chap then communicated to Wayfarer that she and Osha should accompany Ore-Locks the following day when he went to purchase supplies.
Standing near the wagon’s back, Ore-Locks frowned when Wayfarer related this.
“I do not need the assistance of a boy and a girl in bartering,” he argued.
“Chap thinks our presence might make others here more ... friendly,” Wayfarer added.
Ore-Locks scowled but did not argue. “Supplies for a longer journey, even beyond the Sky-Cutter, could take more than a day. I assume we are to help resupply the others we are traveling to join?”
Chane nodded absently, and to Chap it appeared the undead was preoccupied. This time, he wished he could dip into that undead’s surface thoughts. Still, his mind was busy with other concerns. He had caught some things about the route from the young stonewalker, but not enough for his liking. And facing his daughter also worried him.
Shade lingered near Wayfarer. Whatever had happened between her and Wayfarer in two moons had changed them both.
Chap did not want to risk losing what little acceptance he seemed to have gained from his daughter.
“This time, we will not need to search for the seatt or its entrance,” Chane said while fidgeting strangely, “so the journey will not take as long. But Ore-Locks, please do not wear out the patience of the local merchants.”
Ore-Locks scoffed. “If they cannot barter adequately, that is not my fault!”
“A little restraint, please,” Chane advised. “That is all I ask.”
His voice sounded strained, and Chap studied him closely. A light sheen glistened off his pale face. Chap had no intention of asking what was wrong. If Chane were alive, he might have looked ill. Was that even possible for a vampire?
Again, Chap had other pressing thoughts.
Since arriving in this land, he had not stopped thinking about the moment when he, Chane, and Ore-Locks had passed through a large clearing. Even before arriving there, he had seen a glowing building ahead behind the trees, vines, and choking undergrowth.
Though Chap had never seen Chârmun for himself, he had seen it in the memory of someone else. Years ago, he had caught the deep memories of Most Aged Father, the ancient and decrepit leader of the Anmaglâhk.
Though it was difficult to believe, Most Aged Father was at least a thousand years old.