"Because it's not true!" Cresenne said, indignant now. "We paid him the equivalent of twelve sovereigns. Twenty-five qinde in Forelands money. He might even have the coins with him now."
Dren's hand strayed to his pants pocket. "It's less 'an they's worth!" he said, before the guard could demand that he produce the money. "They practic'ly stoled 'em from me! They threatened me wit' their magic! Th' boy will tell ya!"
"He'll also tell you, as will the captain of the Fortune Seeker, that twelve sovereigns was the price he agreed to."
The guard waved both hands and shook his head. "I don' care 'bout any o' this. It's no' my place t' git ya a better price fer yar beasts, Dren." He looked first at Grinsa, then at Cresenne. "Ya should be on yar way. This is no place fer yar kind." He started away, gesturing for the other guards to follow.
"I oughta kill ya both where ya stand!" the farrier said, his fists clenched.
The guard stopped and took a step back in their direction. "I heard tha', Meigen. Ya're lucky I don' put ya in th' gaol straightaway. Now git back t' yar shop an' leave them be!"
At first the farrier didn't budge, and Grinsa readied his magic, just in case. Finally, though, the man shook his head and started to walk away. "Come on, then," he called to his son. "They's no' worth th' trouble." Grinsa and Cresenne didn't move until they'd watched the two of them cross the marketplace and disappear around a bend in the road. Once they were certain that the farrier was no longer a danger, they started toward the gate again, climbing the steep road that led past the fortress. "How did you do that?" Grinsa asked her as they rode.
The hint of a smile touched Cresenne's lips. "Do what?"
"You know perfectly well what. You actually made yourself cry." "So? Bryntelle does it all the time."
He laughed. "You mean to say you learned it from her?"
"Not entirely, no." She held up her hand-the one on which she'd balanced the flame when she showed the guards that she possessed fire magic. Her palm was red and had a small blister on it.
"Cresenne!"
"It's all right. I just let my healing magic fade a moment before I extinguished the flame. It hurt enough to bring tears to my eyes, but it's nothing I can't heal."
"You're mad!"
She raised an eyebrow. "It worked, didn't it?"
He could only nod. "Yes, it worked."
"Then stop complaining."
"Yes, my lady."
She smiled, sunshine lighting her face.
Leaving the city proved to be far easier than entering it had been. They dismounted before the west gate, expecting to be questioned again. But though the guards at the city wall eyed them warily as they walked past, the men didn't stop them or ask them any questions.
Grinsa and Cresenne led their mounts through the gate and onto the road outside the city walls. There they simply stopped and stared at the landscape that stretched before them. They were at the top of the rise, on an even level with the outer walls of the fortress. A broad golden plain ran away from them in every direction. No doubt the expanse was dotted with towns and villages, but from just outside the walls of Yorl, Grinsa couldn't see any of them. What he did see, looming in the distance, ringing the plain, were enormous snowcapped mountains, their peaks as jagged as demons' teeth. Grinsa knew from the captain that Eagle's Pass lay due west, and that it afforded fairly easy passage through the mountains. But still he couldn't help but be daunted by the sight of those peaks.
"It's beautiful," Cresenne said.
"It is."
She turned to look at him. "Do you wish we'd stayed on the Fortune Seeker?"
"No. You told me yourself that Bryntelle wasn't eating well while we were aboard the ship. And I like your face better without that pale shade of green it always seemed to have when we were on the water."
Cresenne laughed. "Thanks." Her expression sobered. "Do you wish we'd stayed in the Forelands?"
He reached for her hand and held it to his lips. "There's nowhere I'd rather be than here, with the two of you. I swear it." He faced the plain and mountains again. "This is home now. And as you say, it's beautiful."
He took Bryntelle from her and held the child while Cresenne climbed onto her mount. Bryntelle was awake and smiling, her eyes as pale and perfect as candle flames.
"This is home now," he whispered again.
Bryntelle gave a squeal and grabbed at his finger. He kissed her forehead and handed her up to Cresenne. Then he swung himself into his saddle, and together they began the long ride westward toward the Qirsi clans.
Chapter 8
Not far from the lake, along one of the many streams that meandered through the pale, golden fields surrounding their village, stood a tight cluster of low, gnarled trees. It was in a shallow dale, a place sheltered from the cold winds that swept across the highlands during the snowy turns. Yet, during the Growing season, when the sun's heat grew unbearable in the fields, the shade and the cool dampness of the stream and grasses kept it cool. And at this time of year, as the first hint of the Harvest breezes began to touch the crops, whispering softly that their time had almost come, the skies above the dale turned deepest blue, and the leaves of those misshapen old trees shaded to gold and rust.
Jynna couldn't remember when she had discovered this place. She was old enough to understand that she hadn't done so on her own, that perhaps Mama or Papa had brought her here the first time, or maybe one of her older brothers. But it often seemed to her that the others had forgotten about it, that no one else from the village knew it existed. So thoroughly was it hers that she never feared being found there. She went there to cry, to scream her rage at some injustice done her by her parents or brothers or teachers, or just to sit and watch the day float by, like the feathery clouds that drifted above the highlands on these cool Harvest mornings. Often while she was there she saw eagles soaring overhead. Once she saw a mountain lion skulking in the shadows by the trees, and she ran back home, vowing never to go there again. But the lure of the place was too strong. Eventually she returned, bearing an old broken ax handle to use as a club if she needed. She hadn't seen the lion again, but still she kept the ax handle by the trees, just in case she ever needed it.
On this morning, she had risen early with her father and followed him into the fields to check the grain and feed crops. In another half a turn, when both moons were full again, they would begin the harvest.
Her lessons at the small sanctuary were to begin at midday-their teacher was to be married this morning-and so after she had fed the cows and Papa's plow horses, she had nothing more to do. Of course she went to the dale.
She looked for the lion as she followed the stream toward the trees, but she saw nothing save a plump, brown grouse that watched her approach and flew away on whistling wings as she drew near.
Sometimes she stayed by the stream, just beyond the trees, but the sun was warm today and she made her way toward the shade. As she drew closer to the wood, though, she saw something that made her falter. There was someone hunched over within the copse.
Jynna didn't know what to do. For so long the place had been her secret, her sanctuary. It never even occurred to her that she might find someone else there lurking among the trees. Her first impulse was to run home and tell her father. But she was also tempted to march right into the copse and demand to know what this person was doing in her dale. In the end, she did neither. She did walk to the small wood, but she approached it slowly, peering into the shadows, trying to see if she knew the person who was in her secret place. She moved silently, as she had practiced in this very spot, trying to see how close she could come to the deer that often grazed here late in the day, and so the person hiding there took no notice of her approach.