Shar snorted. “I can’t feel sorry for anyone who has such bad taste in women,” he muttered.
Imenja’s lips twitched into a smile, then her expression grew serious. “I don’t think we should force such a choice on Mirar. Dreamweavers are a people of great usefulness who are of little threat to us. We should not risk spoiling our friendship with them because of a personal dislike of Auraya or our desire for revenge. Then we would be no better than the Circlians.”
“I agree with you,” Vervel said. “This may be why the gods want her alive.”
“For now. If Auraya proves a nuisance, we can get rid of her later. And she is, after all, only mortal,” Shar said.
“But what of Nekaun?” Genza asked. “We all know how much he wants to kill her.”
Imenja paused, then lifted her head and looked at each of them in turn. “If we are in agreement on this, we can persuade him otherwise.”
The room fell silent. Reivan’s heart was racing. Imenja was suggesting they unite against Nekaun. Until now the others had never been willing to stand against the First Voice.
“I will at least try,” Vervel said.
“And I,” Genza added.
Shar shrugged. “He would not defy the gods, but if he tries, I will give you my support.”
Silence followed. Imenja bowed her head.
“Thank you.” She drew in a deep breath, then stood up. “Reivan and I will now test whether Mirar can read minds. If not, I should still be able to ensure Mirar doesn’t attempt to rescue Auraya and spoil our plans.”
“How will you do that?” Genza asked.
Imenja smiled. “I will merely let him know that if he helps us win this war, we will give him Auraya to do with as he wishes afterward.”
Shar chuckled. “He’ll think we’re playing right into his hands. Unless, of course, he can read minds.”
“I guess we’re about to find out,” Genza concluded.
46
As Auraya woke she recalled where she was, and groaned. The trouble with regaining some strength was that she was able to feel and think with more energy. Mostly she felt boredom and frustration. She had returned to her mind-skimming, but it seemed the only subject on the minds of people outside the hall was war.
War, war, war, she thought. I can’t blame them for being so caught up in it, but I so wish they could think about something else or at least get it over with. This waiting is unbearable.
Yet every moment brought her death closer. Was she so keen to die?
It would be much more comfortable than this, she thought wryly. And perhaps then Mischief would leave me and find his way to a safe place. She felt a pang of anxiety. He hadn’t appeared since Nekaun’s last visit, when the Servants had first treated her with their cures. Reaching out with her mind, she called his name.
:Mischief?
A familiar mind touched her own, sending a formless reassurance, and she sighed with relief. Wherever he was, he was not frightened or hurt.
:Mischief doing what?
:Hunting, he told her.
She smiled. He had become proficient at it, dragging birds and small creatures down into the hall. Sometimes he offered them to her, but even if she could have brought herself to eat them it would be almost impossible to do so without her hands. She might have managed to swallow the smaller of them whole, but the thought made her stomach turn.
Satisfied that the veez was well, she closed her eyes and sent her mind out. First she searched the minds in the Sanctuary for signs of Mirar. She saw news spreading among the domestics awake at this early hour. Mirar had agreed to join the Voices in the battle. He would lend his strength to their defense, but as Dreamweavers abhorred violence he would not join any attack on the enemy.
How clever of you, Mirar, she thought.
:Auraya?
Surprised, she slipped into a dream-link.
:Mirar? Did you hear me thinking?
:No. What were you thinking about?
:You.
:Really? I hope they were good thoughts.
:I just heard the latest gossip. The legendary Mirar has agreed to help the Voices, but only in defense.
:Ah. Yes. A compromise. I’m... sorry. If I could do this without harming your former colleagues I would.
She paused as she realized what he was referring to. If he helped the Voices, the White would probably be defeated. Juran, Dyara, Mairae and Rian would die - and the new White, Ellareen.
I can’t blame him for deciding to take this path, she thought. He must stay on good terms with the Voices for the sake of his people. And if the White win, Dreamweavers in Southern Ithania will be treated as they are in the north. Even though the situation is improving in the north, it will take years for people to come close to respecting Dreamweavers like the Pentadrians do. And they may never do so.
Yet she did not want the White to die. Or for Northern Ithania to be taken over by the Pentadrians. The thought of Nekaun ruling the north made her feel nauseous.
:We are leaving Glymma today, Mirar told her. It will take less than a day to reach the Isthmus. Last night Second Voice Imenja promised me that they would give you to me in exchange for my help, after the battle. I have no idea how long this battle will last. The Isthmus will lessen the numbers of soldiers that can face each other at once. The Dunwayan fleet and Pentadrian warships don’t have that problem, of course, so maybe it will be a sea battle. Then there’s the White and the Voices. Will they fight at the same time on the ships or Isthmus, or wait until later?
:If the Voices have the magical advantage, they will force the White to fight them from the start, Auraya said. Fewer of their own people will die.
:True.
:If your help brings about a quick conclusion, at least you will be saving mortal lives.
:I hope so. He hesitated. I have sent out a message to my own people subtly suggesting they use their magic in defense of whichever side they wish to support, Pentadrian or Circlian.
:How will the Voices react to this? They will suspect you ordered it!
:I will point out that while I can’t give them orders, I also can’t prevent my people emulating me. I could hardly forbid them to do something I am doing. And the advantage is still the Voices’ because I and the Dreamweavers here are stronger than those of my people defending the Circlians.
:You are too clever for your own good, she told him.
:Am I? You must tell Emer—... wait. Someone is knocking on my door. I must go.
:Good luck.
:You too.
Then he was gone. Auraya stared at the floor and felt her heart twist.
I hope he knows what he’s doing. If he dies... She swallowed hard. I think I’d actually regret it. And not just because the last of Leiard dies with him. Or that I’ll probably die, too. I think I’d actually regret knowing Mirar the Wild no longer existed.
The wide Parade outside the Sanctuary was well-suited for assembling an army. Thousands filled the space. Servants dressed in black robes stood in neat, disciplined rows on one side, soldiers in black uniforms with shining armor stood in rigid formation on the other. Highly decorated litters for the Voices and their Companions and advisers waited before the stairs. Larger four-wheeled tarns laden with supplies were lined up at the distant rear of the assembly.