Nissa exhaled and leaned against a rock.
I thank you, Anowon said.
Yes, you do, Sorin said, sheathing his blade.
And the Parasite Blade.
Anowon felt for his metal cylinders before smoothing his hair.
It is called that? Nissa asked, making a face as though she d bitten into an unripe nectarpith fruit.
Quite, Sorin said, patting the weapon s pommel. It draws the mana from whatever it cuts. It can drain creatures to their doom, as you saw.
Where was such a thing created?
You would like to know.
Nissa looked away. No, I really would not like to know, she said. It smacks of vampires.
Rather, Sorin said. Then he said no more.
They left the pile of dust and continued walking. Nissa thought they were still on the trail, but it was impossible to tell for sure. There were no tracks to follow, and the rocky gravel they walked on looked pristine and untouched.
Nissa took out the map and sat down on a rock. Even with the map, she could not be absolutely sure they were in the right place. Clearly the trail was descending, as the map said it would.
What was that thing? Sorin said.
Anowon said nothing, but stared at Smara and the goblins. The kor was in an advanced state of excitement, blathering more than usual so that two of her goblins were stroking her hair and singing to her. Nissa could tell Anowon was listening to the kor.
I think it was a hurda, Nissa said, without looking up from the map. They re not evil creatures, but they do throw tantrums that can be dangerous. I would have expected him on the plains more than here. They are shameless scavengers, so I guess it makes sense, really.
What does?
To see a hurda scavenging a meal where best it can, Nissa said, rolling the map up and sliding it carefully back into the leather tube. It is the natural way of things.
Sorin shook his head. Elves.
Nissa stood. We should be coming out of the mountains soon enough. If we push we might be able to make the Fields of Agadeem by nightfall.
Smara talked, and Anowon took out a piece of parchment and jotted something down with a bit of charcoal.
They descended into the foothills by late afternoon. The sun was bright, and the air was cool. The wind that had plagued them on the ascent was blocked by the mountain itself, and the path was clear and easy going. Yet Nissa worried. Catastrophe was surely waiting in the Fields of Agadeem. There was no reason to think such a thing; she just felt it to be true.
Anowon stopped and put his arm up in a fist. Nissa halted. The vampire had been walking ahead and to the left. He brought his finger to his nose, tapped it, and made an exaggerated motion of sniffing. Nissa understood and took a deep breath herself. There was a sweet smoke in the air. She sniffed again and pointed left. They followed the scent down a side canyon until they spied a small force of kor with a fire burning on the ground next to them.
As they watched, a kor dressed in a robe of beads threw a bough on the fire. It burst into flames, sending thick blue smoke into the air. His barbells were so long that he had tucked them into his belt. The other kor stood, gaunt, off to the side as the kor in robes went to a bundle wrapped in leathers and hanging from a rope anchored in the canyon wall. He began to spin the bundle, wafting handfuls of the smoke against the spinning bundle.
Anowon leaned into Nissa and whispered. There is a body inside. Next they will cut it.
The vampire s mouth was too close to her skin for Nissa s comfort, and she took a step back.
They hack it up, Anowon said. For the eeka birds to eat. The spirit flies away with the birds.
Nissa looked at the bundle spinning in the smoke, then at Smara. The kor had become very quiet. As she watched the ceremony she pushed her crystal against her lips. In that instant Nissa knew she could not stay and watch the kor funeral. She turned and walked back up the canyon. Sorin was smiling when Nissa passed him. Anowon followed Nissa. She stopped and turned.
That is horrible, she said. To dismember the dead.
Is it? the vampire said.
Is there anything else I should know about the kor?
Nothing you do not already. They give away one of their children to the wilderness, as you know.
They what? Sorin said. He bent close to hear what they were saying.
The elf knows what I saw is true, Anowon said.
Nissa said nothing.
Truly? Sorin said.
It s called a world gift, Anowon said.
Most die. Some wander out of the wilderness and are assimilated among other races. But many of those who were assimilated go back to the wilderness.
Nissa found herself staring at Smara squatting in the dusty rock dust watching the burial. She spoke without taking her eyes off Smara.
Are the world gift kor that survive accepted back into the group?
Anowon looked back at the ceremony. You know they are not.
Nissa felt her breath catch in her throat. The kor priest kept the bundle spinning near the smoking fire. A tear edged down Smara s filthy face.
Do they want to come back more than anything? Nissa asked. She stared off at nothing as she spoke. Do they ever try and see if their elders will allow them to return home and be part of the tribe again. Do they apologize?
Anowon frowned at her tone of voice. Are you ill? Anowon said. To Nissa, his tone conveyed anything but concern.
I am not ill, Nissa said, searching his smooth face for any expression that might explain the comment. Finding none, she straightened and put her chin up. I just happen to know something about exile.
I am sure you do, replied Anowon.
Let us be away. Ghet Sorin said. His voice carried through the canyon, echoing off the walls so the kor priest looked up from his spinning. Sorin stood and began walking.
Anowon turned and followed.
Nissa caught his arm. Why do you follow him thus? she asked. What power does he have over you?
Anowon opened his mouth, then closed it. He was clearly about to tell her something. Finally, he shook his head and turned away to follow Sorin.
Nissa followed them both, and the sounds of the funeral and Smara s muttering trailed her as they all walked away. Soon she felt hot tears on her face and wiped them away hard with the back of her glove. She had been a young warrior. What did a young elf know about right and wrong? About proper and taboo? How was she to have known that the ability she possessed was something to be hidden away? But the truth was she knew, even then. She knew that she was different and she flaunted it. And when her mother and father exposed her to the Deep Council for displaying non-Joraga tendencies, it was exactly what she deserved. And she was better for it.
Are you done with your little weeping? Sorin said. If it pleases you, we will leave now.
I am coming, she said.
They walked into the foothills with no sign of pursuit. And by sundown the red foothills flattened to rolling grassland. Where the sward on the other side of the Piston Mountains had been bare, the plains were absolutely covered with huge diamond shaped stones hedron stones. Most of the stones were the size of a houses, but many were smaller, and some were buried in the ground at various positions and depths. As Nissa watched, six stones pulled together so their tips touched and formed a huge star floating above the grass. She continued to watch as it broke apart and the pieces drifted away.
Most of the hedrons were floating above the ground with tips pointing at the sky and the green grass. On the horizon Nissa could see the dark shadow of the ocean topped by banks of purple clouds.
Zulaport lies on that shore, Nissa said as she pointed. She could smell the salt air on the breeze. She glanced down at the rocky debris she was standing on and guessed that the trail had not been used for many weeks, and that it had last been used by goblins. She could see where the faint digs from their toenails had degraded with the rains and wind.