"She's not going to kill your father," he said. "I promise you that. Your father is coming with me to make certain that I make it back to all of you safely. I'm not a young man anymore." He smiled; Mihas didn't.
"Anyway, I won't let anything happen to him. And when the time comes, I'll face Lici alone."
"But that's-" He broke off, shaking his head. "What about you?" Besh shrugged. "I can't make any promises about me. I'm in no hurry to die, and I certainly don't want Lici to be the one to send me to Bian's realm. But I don't know what's going to happen. My magic doesn't flow that strong."
"Then don't go," Mihas said, staring at the floor.
Besh bent lower and looked at the boy, forcing Mihas to meet his gaze. "Do you really mean that? Do you really think that I should stay here and let all those people die? Is that the kind of man you think I am? Is that the kind of man you want to be?"
"No," the boy said grudgingly.
"Of course it's not. And that leaves us with no choice. I have to go, and you have to help your mother care for your sister and brother." Besh made himself stand. "I imagine it's time for us to eat," he said, forcing a smile "It must be, because I'm pretty hungry."
"Do you remember what I told you about Nissa's father?" Mihas asked.
"Nissa's father?"
"He said that wherever Old Lici walks, four ravens circle above her.
And you said that he might be right."
Besh nodded, the conversation coming back to him. "Seems he was even more right than we knew."
"But the ravens-"
"The death omen. That doesn't mean me, Mihas, at least not necessarily. Lici has already done plenty to fulfill a thousand death omens. Maybe.." He faltered, unsure as to whether to put the thought into words. After a moment he decided the boy was old enough to hear him say it. "Maybe the next death will be her own." He held out a hand.
"Now come with me to supper."
The boy stood and took Besh's hand, and together they walked out into the common room, where the others were already eating. Elica and Sirj looked up as the two of them sat, but neither of them said anything, and the meal passed in almost complete silence.
After, as Elica bathed the little ones, Besh left the house and made his way to Lici's. The sky still glowed faintly in the west, but a few pale stars had emerged overhead and the lanes of the village were dark and quiet. A turn before, Besh would have needed a torch to find his way through Lici's house, but not anymore. It was almost as familiar to him as his own home.
He quickly found the pouch of coins in the back room, carried it to the window at the front of the house, and in the dim light that remained, counted out twenty sovereigns. He returned the sack of money to its place in the wooden box, though not before taking out Sylpa's daybook. He started to leave with it, thought better of it, and put it back in the box beneath the coins. He almost made it to the door, but then returned to the back room and pulled it out again. This time, he didn't change his mind, though once outside he hesitated again, and had to remind himself of all that Lici had wrought with her magic.
"I might need it," he said aloud, as if Sylpa were listening. "Who knows what else I might learn from what's in here?"
The breeze freshened briefly, rustling the leaves of the trees above him.
"If Lici and I both survive, I'll give it back to her. I swear it."
He expected no response, of course, but it almost seemed that someone was watching him, listening to his oath and making note of it. Besh hurried home.
Sirj was waiting for him in front of their house, sitting on the tree stump and gazing up at the stars. A single candle burned in one of the windows, casting a faint yellow light, but Besh could barely see the man.
"Elica wanted me to tell you that someone came from the village with a sack of food earlier, while you were still in your room. We forgot to mention it while we were eating."
Besh nodded. "Thank you. That's good to know."
"I've put most of it in my travel sack, but I couldn't fit it all." "That's fine. I can carry my share."
Sirj nodded, and they both fell silent.
After several moments, the man nodded at the journal in Besh's hand. "What's that?"
Besh felt his face color and was glad to be standing in the shadows. "It's Sylpa's daybook," he said. "I thought it might be helpful as we search for Lici."
Sirj nodded.
"I took a bit of her money as well. The eldest suggested it." "I'm sure we'll be glad to have it."
Another silence. Besh wondered how he would endure the man day after day.
"You don't have to do this, you know," he said. "I was prepared to go alone. I still am."
"I'm not doing it because I have to."
"Then why?"
"I told you: You're my family. Besides, Elica won't rest a single night while you're gone. You think I want to stay here for that?"
Besh laughed in spite of himself.
Sirj stood and patted Besh's shoulder before starting toward the front door. "You'll see," he said. "It won't be so bad."
Besh said nothing, and long after Sirj had disappeared into the house, he remained where he was, grappling with the realization that he didn't want Sirj with him for one simple reason. He'd never be able to face his daughter or grandchildren if something happened to the man.
Chapter 17
REAPING MOON WANING
Jynna sat with Etan atop the tallest of the low grassy hills that overlooked the plain and lakelands, gazing back eastward to where the ruins of Tivston still darkened the landscape. There was no smoke anymore, and the great flocks of crows and kites had moved on, leaving the bones of her family and friends and neighbors to dry and whiten in the harsh sunlight. Birds still circled over what remained of her home, but only a few, the sad unfortunates who had arrived too late for the feast.
Etan hadn't said much since that first day when T'Noth, T'Kaar, and S'Doryn found him with the others. None of the children had. Even Jynna spoke only occasionally, though she had been the first to meet the Fal'Borna, and had come to trust all three of the men who were caring for them now, even T'Kaar. She simply had little to say. Her thoughts were consumed with memories of her family, grief at the loss of all she had known and loved. When the men asked questions of her, she answered. When they asked her to speak on their behalf to the other children, she did as they requested. The rest of the time she kept to herself, or sat with Etan, saying nothing, but taking comfort from the mere fact that he was there, feeling the same things she was.
Vettala sat a short distance from them, also saying nothing, also looking to the east. She was three years younger than Jynna and Etan, and like them, she had come through that horrible night of disease and wanton magic without injury. She was a pretty girl, fine-featured with long silvery hair and deep golden eyes. Jynna remembered her having a nice smile and a loud bubbling laugh, but she had to trust all to her recollections, for Vettala hadn't made a sound in these eight days. She avoided all of them. Aside from those times when the children were forced to ride, sharing mounts with the Fal'Borna men, she didn't allow anyone to come near her. She ran away from the wounded children-Hey, the older boy who lost his hand to his father's shaping magic; Pelda and Sebbi, sisters burned on their faces and hands and chests by the fire that consumed their home. She refused even to look at the Fal'Borna.
But it seemed that she drew some comfort from having Jynna and Etan nearby. She followed them everywhere, keeping her distance, but also keeping them in sight. Under any other circumstance Jynna would have been annoyed by this; probably she would have tried to run away from the girl. In an odd way, though, she understood. Etan did, too. They made no effort to include her in their conversations or tell her where they were headed each time she started to follow them. But they let her follow, and they kept an eye on her, making certain that she came to no harm.