Child of a Dead God

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Magiere fell silent as she walked into Miiska.

She quickened her pace, not wanting to be seen by anyone they knew just yet, not until they reached the Sea Lion Tavern.

They'd arrived from the south, so the tavern was just ahead beyond the trees. All she wanted was to see her home. By the time she reached the sloping road's bottom, and stepped from the forest into the edge of town, Leesil had to jog to catch up with her. The others were left behind, but Chap bolted headlong around Magiere, racing toward the dockside of Miiska.

And then she saw it.

Leesil's hand-painted sign hung above the narrow door, and the whole place looked so much the same, as if she'd been away but a few days.

The Sea Lion-and Chap was turning in pinwheels by the time Magiere squeezed the latch and shoved the front door inward.

Everything inside still looked brand new, from the polished bar to the two-sided hearth in the common room's center. Rashed's sword hung above the hearth on the room's bar side, marking the tavern's rebirth from ashes. Beyond the bar's far end, narrow stairs climbed to the second floor and bedrooms.

Leesil pushed around Magiere, casting his hungry eyes over everything. At first he couldn't speak any more than could Magiere. Then he sighed as his gaze fixed on the corner beneath the front windows.

"My Faro table!" he whispered.

Chap squeezed between their legs and made a hurried circuit around the hearth.

"Caleb, you deaf old hog!"

Magiere's throat tightened. The loud, gruff woman's voice came from behind the kitchen's curtained doorway.

"How many damn times have I told you-don't put onions in the soup when Karlin is coming! You know he can't abide the taste!"

"I already put his serving aside," came an answering shout from up the stairs. "Leave me be, woman!"

A stout form in an old purple dress and stained apron burst through the whipping kitchen curtain. She turned, heading for the stairs like an irate captain hot after an errant soldier. But she halted halfway and turned quickly about. She almost dropped the long wooden spoon she wielded as shock washed away the ire on her round, wrinkled face.

"Aunt Bieja," Magiere whispered.

Bieja barreled along the bar and nearly cracked Magiere's ribs in a fierce embrace.

"My girl… my girl!"

Her aunt's hair smelled musky, and it took all Magiere's effort not to weep in overwhelming relief. Bieja had come, just as Leesil had insisted she would.

Magiere's aunt released her, and with tears on her gruff face, she spotted Leesil. Before he could duck, she grabbed him as well.

"Ow," he grunted. "Go easy! It's good to see you, too."

Bieja stepped back, wiping the back of her hand across her eyes, as Chap snuck out between table and chair legs.

"Ah, so the troublemaker is still with you." Then she noticed Wynn and Osha in the doorway.

Magiere reached back, pulling Wynn in. "Auntie, these are friends. This is Wynn and that's Osha."

Bieja crossed her arms, taking stock of the tall, hooded elf.

"Osha," Leesil mumbled, "better keep your ears covered."

Beija whacked him in the gut with her spoon. "Shut that mouth, imp."

Then a commotion began on the stairway. "Leesil!"

Little Rose nearly flew down the stairs.

Caleb descended quickly behind the girl, and his eyes widened at the newcomers. "Mistress Magiere?"

Rose ran straight for Leesil and jumped at him. Leesil hooked her underarms and lifted her with an exaggerated grunt.

"You're getting heavy!"

In truth, Rose had grown, and her muslin dress looked a bit small. Her auburn hair was thick and long-she was becoming quite pretty. Aside from her aunt's presence, this was the first mark of just how long Magiere had been gone. Little Rose ran her small fingers down the closed wound along Leesil's cheek.

"What happened to your face?"

"Fierce battles," he said in a haughty tone and hefted her higher. "I'll tell you stories at dinner."

"No, you won't!" Magiere warned.

"Just the suitable ones," he corrected.

Caleb joined them, his back slightly bent, and he grasped Magiere's hand. "Welcome home, Mistress."

She gripped his hand with another breath of relief at that one word-home.

"Domin Tilswith?" Wynn blurted out in surprise.

She pushed past everyone as Magiere spotted someone else descending the stairs. He was slight-built and silver-haired, and his old gray robes sagged on him a bit.

Domin Tilswith stepped into the common room with a smirkish grin. His green eyes sparked at the sight of his apprentice.

"I received message… came right away."

Wynn hurried to meet him, but they did not embrace. They only clasped hands with mutual smiles.

Osha still hung in the doorway with the two jars of ashes in his arms. He looked about in complete loss. A pang of guilt hit Magiere for ignoring him, but Aunt Bieja closed on the young elf first.

"Oh, I don't know where my girl keeps finding your kind," she said and grabbed him roughly by the arm. "You best come have supper. No one that tall should be so skinny."

Even an anmaglahk stood little chance against the will of Aunt Bieja. Osha forgot to duck, and his forehead smacked the top of the door frame.

Magiere clasped the back of Leesil's head, pulling his face close, little Rose still in his arms. She settled her forehead against his and whispered.

"We're home."

Near midnight, Leesil finally succeeded in sending Bieja, Caleb, and Rose off to bed. Osha settled the jars of ashes atop the hearth.

Leesil didn't want the homecoming celebration to end, but Domin Tilswith had been "smiling" patiently all evening. The old master sage awaited a more serious discussion, particularly when Leesil returned with Magiere from unloading their packhorse, and Wynn had returned from taking Aspen to the local stable.

They gathered in the kitchen around the canvas bundle on the prep table, and Magiere unwrapped the orb.

Leesil suddenly wondered where any of them would even begin to tell their story.

Chap appeared to study Tilswith's face, which grew dour and puzzled as the old man leaned over the artifact.

"This what Welstiel sought… where you find?"

"Do you know what it is?" Magiere asked bluntly.

"Where you find?" the domin repeated.

The old man's Belaskian hadn't improved any more than Osha's had, perhaps less. Magiere, Leesil, and Wynn in turn each told him varied parts of their journey. Osha only listened, and Chap continued watching Domin Tilswith.

Leesil wondered suspiciously at the dog's fixed attention. Hopefully Chap wasn't messing about in the old man's head.

Tilswith's mouth opened slightly at Magiere's mention of Li'kan, of the circlet that had removed the spike, and of water droplets rushing madly toward the orb to vanish in its searing light. But Magiere never mentioned their differing impressions of the presence that had risen in the cavern.

"Eo, ag-leak!" Domin Tilswith sputtered in his own guttural tongue. "Wynn, what we done?"

Wynn's olive face flooded with alarm. "Do you know what it is? Where it came from?"

He shook his head, seeming suddenly older. "No… But is more than simple tool, even for it power. The place found… so guard and protect it was. And secret so long. May… be… we should left it there."

Leesil flushed cold with disbelief. "After all we've been through? Sgaile died trying to help us bring this back! And you think we should've left it?"

Domin Tilswith's forehead wrinkled. "I did not understand-"

"You cannot safeguard this?" Osha asked abruptly.

Wynn turned her startled gaze to his face.

Leesil followed her and found the young elf watching the domin as carefully as Chap was.

"Osha, it is not that…," Wynn began. "I am sure the domin meant-"

"I believed… your sages offer safeguard," Osha cut in. "I complete my teacher's guardianship because you said sages give…"

He struggled a moment and finished in Elvish.

Wynn looked at Leesil. "Security. He thought the sages could provide security, and truly they can-"

"Not from Anmaglahk," Osha said flatly.

"What?" Leesil asked.

"Most Aged Father wishes much for this thing," Osha continued. "So much, he set caste brother against brother. He will not stop."

"We let that woman back in the swamps get away!" Leesil nearly shouted. "You said she wasn't a danger anymore."

"Danvarfij make no difference!" Osha snapped back. "Her life, her death, no difference. Most Aged Father send others. Two moons, not more, and he will send my caste."

Osha turned equal anger on Domin Tilswith.

"Sages cannot give… security from Anmaglahk. They scholars, not guardians. They die and my caste take the orb."

Leesil looked to Magiere for any support.

She stood leaning with her hands braced upon the kitchen table. Her eyes went dark, and Leesil felt as if the floor had shifted suddenly under his feet.

Magiere whirled away for the back door. She slapped it open with her palm, stormed out, and the door swung shut behind her. Leesil rushed after her.

When he stepped out, she was gone. He peered along the back of the tavern and adjacent buildings, and jogged to the tavern's corner, looking about, and he still couldn't spot her. When he turned back, he caught a glimpse of white in the forested neck of land behind the tavern that shot outward into the sea.

Magiere stood there, the sleeves of her white shirt rustling in the sharp breeze.

Fresh salt air blew against Leesil's face as he wove through the birches and evergreens.

Magiere just stared out to sea with one hand over her mouth, as if too overwhelmed to breathe. She took it away as she glanced at him, and he ached inside under her lost eyes.

"What are we going to do?" she whispered. "Tilswith would take it if we asked him… but that's like tossing fresh meat into a sheep's pen to draw in the wolves."

Leesil wanted no more of this. They'd been asked too much already, and he couldn't-wouldn't-struggle for an answer right now. He slipped his arm around Magiere, gripping her shoulder, and tucked his head next to hers until their cheeks met.

"Not now," he said. "We just got home… I don't want to talk about orbs or sages or Anmaglahk. I don't want to think about any of this!"

When he lifted his head, that lost look faded from Magiere's eyes. She glared at him, her face filled with that familiar accusation for whenever he took refuge in denial.

"What do you want to talk about?" she asked.

He lifted his hand to her cheek, fingers combing up into her black hair.

"Getting married."

Five days later, and loaded with trepidation, Leesil followed Karlin Boigiesque to the newly constructed dockside warehouse.

"Karlin… Magiere thinks it's a fine idea," he grumbled, "but it's not what I had in mind."

"It's the only building in town that's large enough," Karlin insisted. "You just wait, lad. You'll see."

The stout, balding baker with kind eyes was their closest friend in Miiska, and now chairman of the town council. The previous summer, Leesil had burned the town's main warehouse, trying to cover his heels as he and Brenden raced to save Magiere and escape a trio of vampires. Later, he and Magiere had earned enough coin in Bela for its reconstruction.

Made of stout pine, from the outside it was impressive-for a warehouse. But it was hardly where Leesil had expected to be married. Magiere seemed satisfied with the idea, claiming they'd come full circle. But at least the celebration afterward would take place in the Sea Lion.

"Go on, take a peek," Karlin said, and slid open one huge dockside door. "We had it cleared yesterday. Aria, Geoffry, and Darien's mother worked on the rest all morning."

Leesil stepped around the baker and his jaw dropped. "Ah, dead deities in seven hells!"

"Watch your tongue," Karlin admonished with a chuckle. "This is now a sacred place."

The high bay doors used for loading the lofts sat open, and afternoon light streamed in wide shafts to the floor. All the crates had been removed and only barrels lined the walls, but garlands and bushels of wild blossoms and spring roses were carefully woven around them and up the walls.

Clean muslin sheets hung at the front in a half-moon backdrop. To either side of this stood a linen-draped barrel supporting a decorated white vase filled with roses. Dead center between them, before the backdrop, stood a small linen-draped table. Upon it waited three white candles, an incense stick and brazier, and a long, neatly coiled strip of white silk ribbon.

"That's where you'll stand for the ceremony," Karlin said and dropped a thick hand on Leesil's shoulder. "Guests start arriving soon… too late to run now, lad."

Leesil breathed the perfume from hundreds of flowers caught in the variegated light spilling into the wide space. He couldn't wait for Magiere to join him.

Magiere hid in a back room of the warehouse. She'd relented to Aunt Bieja's insistence that it be turned into a dressing area, but now doubted her decision.

Between Aria and Bieja rushing in and out with hot irons to curl her hair, she felt… exposed. But the dressing ordeal finally ended, and Aria and Bieja went off on some last-minute task. Magiere stepped in front of the large oak-framed mirror in a welcome moment of solitude.

She hardly recognized her own reflection.

Magiere possessed only one gown-of dark blue-which her mother had worn and left to her. It fit her well and offset her pale complexion. Before donning it, she had bathed and washed her hair; and she'd allowed her female "attendants" to not only curl it but also weave in bits of white lilac.

"Beautiful!" someone proclaimed from the back door.

Magiere tensed as if trapped, then turned to find Wynn staring at her with a soft smile.

"I don't know," she said, scowling at herself in the mirror. "I look… strange."

"Well, you cannot be married in a hauberk and sword."

"Why not?"

"Because Leesil will swoon when he sees you," Wynn answered and stepped in.

It was Magiere's turn to stare, for the little sage had been transformed as well. Wynn had agreed to stand as Magiere's second during the ceremony.

Her wispy brown hair had been pinned up with curling tendrils framing her small face. A light green dress blended well with her olive complexion, reminding Magiere of fragile creatures in children's tales about to take flight on dragonflies' wings.

"Where did you find the dress?" Magiere asked, suddenly happy for the first time since being hauled into this back room.

"Your aunt bought it for me," Wynn said with some embarrassment. "There was no time to have anything made and it was the only finished one we could find that fit. Is the color all right?"

"It's fine." Magiere nodded.

They stood together before the mirror, Magiere tall and pale with dark hair and blue gown, and Wynn so small and olive in her light green.

"Like fine ladies going off to a noble ball," Wynn whispered. "So long as no one saw us a few weeks past, crusted in snow and starving for anything besides dried fish."

The mention of dried fish brought Sgaile to Magiere's thoughts. And Wynn's as well, judging by the way her smile quickly faded.

"Is Osha ready?" Magiere asked, as Leesil had chosen him to act as second.

"Yes"-Wynn let out an exasperated sigh-"but he would only wear his own clothes. So I had them washed, and brushed out his cloak… He looks fine. The guests are gathered inside, and Leesil is waiting to walk you in. We should go."

Magiere had wanted this-the whole ceremony-to celebrate joining with Leesil. Now that it was upon her, she wondered if something more private might have been better. She took several quick breaths.

"Just keep your eyes on Leesil," Wynn said, "and you will be fine."

They walked out and around the warehouse's front to find Leesil waiting with Osha and Chap.

Wynn's advice was sound, and Magiere forgot everything else the moment Leesil turned, looked at her, and his mouth fell open. She'd never been vain, but his expression was worth all the primping.

"M… Magiere?" he stammered.

"Close your mouth," she said, "before you swallow a mosquito."

He made a handsome sight himself. Aunt Bieja had managed to sew him a loose white shirt, just in time, that he wore tucked into black breeches. He'd polished his boots and tied his white-blond hair back at the nape of his neck.

Magiere took his arm. "Ready?"

He nodded, still looking into her eyes.

Osha fidgeted awkwardly. Wynn hurried over to him, and the young elf looked her up and down as if he'd never seen her before.

"See how Magiere has Leesil's arm? They will walk in first. We wait and then follow with Chap."

Chap whined with ears perked. Wynn had completely brushed out his coat the night before, ignoring his growls. She hooked her arm into Osha's, having to reach up a bit.

Magiere turned into the warehouse with Leesil, and her breath caught at the hundreds of flowers in the streaming light. She kept her poise and moved steadily forward on Leesil's arm.

Domin Tilswith waited before the muslin backing in his long gray robes. A thin trail of smoke drifted up from an incense stick in the brazier. Magiere had no idea their friends had gone to so much trouble.

The cavernous room was filled to the walls with people.

But a clear path was left for her and Leesil, and faces blurred by as she walked.

Karlin and the constable, Darien Tomik, stood with young Geoffry and Aria. Even Loni, the elven owner of the Velvet Rose Inn, watched with interest. So many had come to share this day.

Magiere and Leesil came together before Domin Tilswith. Chap settled right behind them, and Wynn and Osha, as their seconds, stepped off to each side. Domin Tilswith's voice carried in accented Belaskian, but he never missed a word, as if he had studied every one most carefully.

"We come together to celebrate the joining of Magiere and Leesil in a life bond."

Magiere's heart began to pound as he leaned over and picked up the silk ribbon.

"Hold out your hands," he instructed.

He lightly tied Leesil's left hand to Magiere's right. "Magiere, do you swear to love Leesil, to stand with him, honor his heart, and care for him above all others for as long as you live?"

Magiere looked at Leesil and answered, "I swear."

"Leesil, do you swear to love Magiere, to stand with her, honor her heart, and care for her above all others for as long as you live?"

Leesil held her eyes with his. "I swear."

Domin Tilswith removed the ribbon and took up the incense. Blowing its tip to a coal, he lit the two outside candles, their wicks lightly dipped in clear oil.

Magiere picked up one candle and Leesil the other, and together they lit the center candle. They blew out the candles they held and set them aside.

"Two lights are now one," Domin Tilswith proclaimed. He held up the single candle. "Leesil and Magiere are one."

The warehouse filled with cheers.

Wynn kept stumbling sideways every time she took a step. Maybe the common room had not been built on level ground.

The celebration in the Sea Lion Tavern had broken into… well, a celebration. She had never taken part in anything like this.

Bieja had outdone herself with the feast, and now poured wine straight from a cask into large mugs and tankards, passing them around like water. Domin Tilswith had finished two already, and even Osha held a mug.

Wynn had tasted wine before, on special occasions and in small amounts, but she most certainly was not drunk. Besides her, Leesil was the only one sober, as he sipped on spiced tea.

The common room had been half-cleared of tables and chairs, and Bieja had abandoned the bar to dance with Karlin. The pair dominated the floor with their girth and energy, until Leesil pulled Magiere out to join them. After that, Wynn tried to teach Osha a few steps, but she did not know much about dancing herself. She stumbled into a chair, nearly taking him with her. The floor was definitely uneven. Yes, that was the reason.

The Sea Lion was packed with people, who all seemed affectionate with Leesil and Magiere, but Wynn hardly knew anyone. She noticed Osha's wary glances at the only other elf present, but oddly, these two avoided each other.

"Magiere said his name is Loni," Wynn shouted to Osha over the din.

"He is not an'Croan," Osha answered.

Loni's hair was light brown, and his eyes were amber brown. He was not as tall as Osha, but his facial structure, slanted eyes, and oblong pointed ears clearly marked him as fully elven. He seemed just as determined to ignore Osha. But his differences from the an'Croan left Wynn wondering.

She had heard Leesil and Magiere speak of Loni once or twice, but in seeing him for the first time, Wynn thought he looked much more like the elves from her own continent. So what was one of them doing here, so far from home?

"At least people here are so accustomed to him that they do not find you strange," she said to Osha.

Or she thought she had said it. Some of the words did not sound right, but that was because of all the noise. Before she could repeat herself, she noticed the room's awful tilt and felt as though the chair beneath her might fall over.

It was too hot in here.

Wynn had tried not to dwell on the conversation in the kitchen with Domin Tilswith, especially the part after Leesil ran out after Magiere. She had promised herself to wait until after the wedding before telling Magiere or Leesil the domin's unsettling news.

Today was about them, their day of joy, and she would not spoil it for anything.

"Let us go outside," Osha said. "It is too warm."

Thank goodness someone else noticed, thought Wynn, and she followed as he waded through the crowd for the front door.

The night outside was better-cooler. Rather than stand about before the tavern windows, they walked as far as the nearby stables. Osha half-crouched, leaning back against the stable's outer door, and Wynn stood before him, watching him weave a little before her eyes.

"I am… dizzy," he said and wiped his brow.

He had fallen back into Elvish. Obviously Osha could not hold his wine. Wynn giggled before she could stop herself.

"I fear the Anmaglahk would not approve of a single thing you did today."

His slanted eyes grew serious. "No, they would not, and that thought is sad."

Wynn lost her own humor.

"Today was good," Osha went on, "and humans are nothing like I was taught. Even Sgailsheilleache, who spent so much time in these lands, knew little of them… Then you came." He glanced away. "Sgailsheilleache should have stood with Leshil today-not me."

"No, Osha," Wynn said. "Leesil mourns Sgaile, but he was glad to have you with him."

He looked at her, his face intense-lonely-and hungry in moonlight.

Wynn teetered so much she stumbled. She grabbed the stable door near his shoulder. With his face so near hers, Wynn's muddled head flushed with a new heat.

She wanted to feel what Magiere and Leesil had, to know that closeness with someone she cared for. Wynn realized, standing there, that she could make Osha fall in love with her. Just kiss him on those soft… thin… tan lips.

She shoved off the stable door, growing too warm again.

With all they had been through together, she loved Osha-but was she in love with him? Their paths would soon diverge, and perhaps that was best. She took another step back.

Osha studied her until she could not bear it anymore.

"We should go back inside," she said. "Magiere will wonder what became of us."

His mouth tightened in puzzlement, or was it disappointment?

He stood up. "Yes, we go back now."

Chap lay by the hearth watching everyone around him drink, dance, and laugh. More than once he had quickly scooted aside before someone stepped on his tail.

Wynn slipped in the front door, flushed and staggering as she looked about.

When she spotted him, she wove among the crowd and dropped a bit too hard beside him. She buried fingers in his fur, rubbing his back, and it felt good. He wondered why she was no longer joining in the festivities.

Osha came through the front door.

He scanned the room and spotted Wynn. Before he could make his way over, Aunt Bieja hauled him off to where Karlin had collapsed into a chair. Osha seemed happy enough, or perhaps even relieved to sit with them.

That young elf will never be Anmaglahk, Chap projected.

"I hope not," Wynn mumbled, still rubbing his back. "Though he wants it so much. Osha knows more about humans than most of his caste. Perhaps that will make a difference."

She sounded so sad-and drunk-that Chap raised his head. What is wrong?

"You, Magiere, and Leesil… cannot stay here… long, will you?"

He sighed through his nose, settling his head on his paws once more.

Tonight is for them, but tomorrow… no, we cannot stay. We must leave and get as far from Most Aged Father's reach as we can. Even that will only be a delay.

Wynn took her hand away.

"Domin Tilswith was… overwhelmed by the texts we brought back. Translation at our barracks in Bela is not possible. We do not have the reference materials needed-and he cannot leave. There is still too much to be done in Bela in starting that little new branch of our guild."

Her silence was too long and too easy to read on her sad face.

You are going home… taking your find to Malourne, and the guild's founding branch.

Wynn did not seem surprised that he knew. "Someone must take the texts to them… to those more experienced in translation. Domin Tilswith thinks this best, as I will be needed for what I learned on our travels."

Chap shifted closer to her. In truth, he had known this day would come. And now he worried again for Wynn's safety… from those who might seek the texts to learn more of the orb Magiere and Leesil bore-and from his own kin.

You are part of this now-and no safer than any of us. It is best that you leave this land as well.

"What am I to do without you?" she whispered.

Tears formed in her bleary brown eyes. But Chap knew she would be safest in one of her guild's communities, though not safe enough.

Once you arrive, stay where many are around you. My kin do not want to be known by mortals. They will shy from manifesting where they might be noticed.

"You know something dark is coming," she said. "Is it your kin… from what you sensed in the cavern? Are they behind all of this?"

He had no answer.

No… something more, beyond them. And I have made other… arrangements, which I hope will come through, in the interest of your well-being.

He cared for Leesil and Magiere-they were his charges and deeply woven into the path he followed. But Wynn was the only one to whom he could "talk." Before her, he had never understood how much such a companion could mean.

Chap laid his head in her lap.

Almost instantly, Wynn flopped heavily atop him. Even over the ruckus, Chap could hear her snore.

Long past midnight, Leesil lay in the warmth of their upstairs bedroom, holding Magiere against his chest.

"A good day," he whispered.

"The best," she agreed. "Right before the ceremony, I panicked a little. But everything was perfect. I'm glad we waited to come home for this."

He tightened his hold on her. He didn't want to say more, but it finally slipped out.

"You know we can't stay."

She was quiet for a moment. "I know. We can't give the orb to the sages. We can't risk Most Aged Father's anmaglahk coming for it… here or in Bela."

"I've thought about that, too," Leesil answered.

Magiere pulled away and propped up on one elbow. The last remnants of white lilacs still clung in her black hair.

"So now what? I'm not giving up on our life here."

Leesil shook his head. "Me either. I overheard Tilswith talk about getting Wynn's texts to his guild's home, but he also mentioned plans for the new guild branch in Bela. I don't think he's going to deliver the texts himself."

"You think he's sending Wynn back?"

Leesil shrugged. "We'll find out in the morning, but getting the orb off this continent would go a long way to masking our trail, wherever we end up."

"We'll have to catch a ship out of Bela," Magiere added with a sigh.

Leesil nearly groaned at the notion of more seafaring. "I've been thinking a lot about the idea of home lately."

"And?"

"Home is just wherever you are."

Magiere rose on her hands and knees, like some pale predator next to him, and looked him right in the eyes.

"No, it's right here… where we want it!" She leaned so close that Leesil felt her breath on his mouth. "But it'll have to wait… again."

Magiere pressed her mouth hard over his.

Nine days later, Wynn stood beside Osha on the south end of Bela's vast docks, and they watched the variety of ships throughout the harbor. They had all taken a schooner from Miiska to the king's city, but Magiere, Leesil, and Chap had stayed behind at their inn.

Osha was going home, but not by any of the ships in the bay.

Wynn had asked few questions, and he only told her what he'd heard from Sgaile. Most Aged Father would have the nearest elven ship come, and Sgaile and Osha were to watch for it.

Far out off the harbor's northern point, the glint of silken sails sprouted high above the waters. It was larger than any elven ship Wynn had ever seen, especially the one that had carried her south and died for it.

Somewhere out near the woods of the northern point, a skiff and crew would be waiting for Osha.

Wynn could not bear to say good-bye at the inn and just let him leave, so she had come down to the shore with him, but this was hardly easier. Gray-green hood up covering his head, she could still see his large slanted eyes, anxious and desperate. He did not wish to go, and yet he longed for his homeland.

Perhaps Osha feared what waited there, or hated it and was all the more eager to face it. His innocence had died with his teacher. But Wynn needed him to do one more thing when he got there.

She pulled out a small paper-wrapped package and held it out.

He looked down at it, and before he could ask, she was explaining.

"When you reach home, find Brot'an and give him this… to him and no one else."

Osha's eyes widened. Wynn had stayed up half the night in the inn, writing the small journal wrapped in that paper. It contained everything she had learned or guessed concerning what had happened on their journey.

"Do not let anyone else see this," she warned. "If you cannot reach Brot'an, then take it to Nein'a and Gleann, as I think they may know how to find him. But never let it fall into anyone else's hands… even if you have to destroy it before you find Brot'an."

Osha slowly took the package, and Wynn understood his reluctance. What she asked leaned hard against his oath to his caste. She only hoped he had learned enough from Sgaile, his teacher.

Not of the ways of the Anmaglahk, but rather the ways of his people that Sgaile had held dear above all else.

Osha nodded and tucked the paper bundle into his tunic.

Wynn wanted to embrace him but could not. "I will not forget you or all that you have done for us."

"I… I…" Poor Osha had always had difficulty expressing himself with words.

"I know, it is all right," she said. "Go."

He turned, heading along the bustling docks toward the city's north side.

Wynn watched until Osha was barely a tall spot of gray cowl above the heads of dockworkers, hawkers, and merchants too busy to notice him. And when the last glimpse of him vanished among the crowd, she panicked.

How many times had he come for her, stood between her and harm? Simple Osha was not so simple. Even next to Sgaile's unshakable honor, only Osha among his kind and his people had learned to look at her for who she truly was-and not some savage human to be feared and hated.

Wynn broke into a run, shoving her way along the crowded dock. At the sight of swinging gray-green fabric, she reached out and grabbed hold.

Osha turned suddenly at the tension on his cloak and dropped his eyes.

Wynn clawed up to throw her arms around his high neck, and she buried her face in his shoulder as he crouched down.

"Do not forget me," she whispered.

His long arms wrapped about her.

It was foolish, stupid, and something she could not stop. Magiere's warning meant nothing against the pain. Wynn lifted her head and thrust her face into Osha's.

Clumsy and awkward, she found his mouth with hers, and pressed hard.

Chane and Osha… and she would never see either again.

Wynn was crying before she pulled back and lost the wet warmth of Osha's mouth. She could not even look at him as she fled. She ran away through the streets of Bela, but it was a long while before she returned to the inn.

Magiere faced into the wind as the captain called to leave harbor. Leesil was already hanging on the rail like a dying man. The seasickness was all in his head, since they hadn't even set sail, and she knew the worst of it wouldn't hit him until tomorrow.

The orb was locked away in their cabin below.

She was determined to protect it, but was still repulsed by its effect upon her. And Leesil would've been in his bunk already, but he didn't want to be near it either.

Chap latched forepaws on the rail beside Wynn, and the two watched the bustling docks of Bela.

News that Wynn would return to Malourne had brought mixed feelings for them all, especially Chap. At least for now, the little sage remained under his protection. But nothing was predictable, and nothing stayed the same.

Magiere had no idea where she, Leesil, and Chap would take the orb. All they could do was get out of Most Aged Father's reach. So parting from Wynn was inevitable-but not just yet.

Leesil staggered over to join Wynn and Chap as the ship slid away from the dock.

A rush of memories filled Magiere's head, from the day she and Leesil had first set foot in Miiska, first saw the Sea Lion… to the first time in Bela when she'd felt Leesil's mouth on hers.

She remembered Chap crouched beneath a table in the sage's barracks, growling as Wynn pushed Elvish letters at him, trying to show that he was far more than just a dog.

She remembered Wynn once angrily facing her down, insisting that they give all their food to a village of starving peasants.

She remembered Chap running along a burning rail to throw himself at Leesil amid the fire aboard the elven ship.

She remembered Sgaile's body under a willow tree.

And Leesil's face at their wedding when he said, "I swear."

Magiere turned from the wind to join her companions-and her husband. As she ran her fingers through the back of Leesil's hair, she didn't know what the future held-only that she had to protect the orb and trust in those she loved.

The ship sailed out toward open sea.