Inside the hut, Agny lit a fire. She laid a bundle of twigs and dried leaves on the hearth and whispered a prayer over them.
Ilvani sat in a corner near the flames. The child stayed close to her, holding on to a piece of her dress.
“Please, share the fire,” Agny told Ashok and the brothers. “It will only grow colder outside, but you already know that.”
Skagi lingered near the door, but Cree sat down in front of the fire. Ashok sat next to him.
“Whom do you pray to?” Cree asked. He gestured to the offering.
“Bhalla-the goddess also known as Chauntea,” Agny explained. “But I also beseech the spirits of the trees. Yaraella was especially close to the telthors of the pinewoods. I’m asking them to remember her and think well of those gathered here. We need all the guidance and good thoughts they can offer.”
“Does this mean you no longer consider us a threat?” Ashok asked.
“Then why doesn’t she order her guards to step away?” Skagi muttered. He held the door slightly ajar to keep an eye on the men outside.
“You are all dangerous. If I thought you were a threat to me or to that child”-she looked at the girl, Elina, and her eyes softened with affection-“I would have had you all killed. But I also let my anger rule me for a time. I won’t let that happen again. Why did you come here?”
“You saw the reason,” Ilvani said. “You saw her in my mind.”
“Yes,” Agny said. Her eyes looked haunted. She held her hands clasped tightly in her lap. “But I want to hear the tale from your lips. I want to know how much you understand about what is happening.”
Ashok said, “The woman in Ilvani’s dreams asked for her help. Some force threatens her, hurts her, and in turn hurts Ilvani. She has the scars to prove it. They were what led us to Rashemen.”
“May I see them?” Agny said. “These scars?”
Ilvani shifted closer to the fire. The child followed her. She pulled up her right sleeve to reveal the Rashemi language carved into her flesh. Agny examined the symbols in the flickering light and traced one gently with her fingernail.
“You carved these without knowing our language?” she asked.
“I know your language now,” Ilvani said. “It soaks my tongue.”
Agny looked at the witch sharply. “Prove it.”
Ilvani spoke in a language Ashok didn’t understand. Agny showed no reaction, but Ashok thought she was agitated when she motioned Ilvani to roll down her sleeve.
“It’s a prayer, if you’re curious,” Agny said. “Yaraella’s call to the spirits for blessing and protection.”
“Her call has gone beyond Ilvani,” Ashok said. “Through her, the spirits of the Shadowfell are being driven mad. The same thing is happening here, isn’t it?” he pressed.
“We saw the withered crops,” Cree said, “and the dead horse.”
“Don’t forget that our caravan barely made it through the mountains,” Skagi said from the door. “All the nastiest beasts were following our witch. If one of yours is behind it, I’ll thank you to tell her to stop.”
“You are correct. We have seen the same signs and portents in our lands, but the link that caused the disturbances is not as strong,” Agny said. “It draws no monsters to us. It only maddens our livestock and withers our crops. But that is damage enough.”
“The child,” Ilvani said. “Yaraella’s offspring is the link.”
Agny nodded. “So the spirits are not at rest because some evil force threatens Yaraella’s spirit. She’s reaching out to our world for aid, through her daughter and through you,” she said to Ilvani. “The three of you are connected. Across the length of Faerun, you feel one another’s pain.”
“But why Ilvani?” Ashok said. “Why didn’t Yaraella reach out to one of the wychlaran instead of a stranger, one not even of her own race?”
“I couldn’t say, but in life Yaraella kept herself isolated from her people,” Agny said. “After her husband’s death in battle, we reached out to her, tried to convince her to join the wychlaran. Her connection to the spirit world was deeper and more intense than that of any witch I’d ever seen. She received no training to hone her gifts. Her power came as naturally as breath to her. Sometimes she was able to use it to predict the future.”
Ashok and Cree exchanged a glance, though neither spoke. “What happened to her?” Ashok asked.
“Power such as Yaraella’s had taken its toll on the spirit. Living eyes were not meant to see all the things she had seen. The forces of death, the gods, and other worlds-it’s a heavy burden, especially for one so young and inexperienced. Yaraella chose not to join the wychlaran-she preferred to stay with her daughter here, in the home where she was born-but the hathran Sree was helping her to cope with the visions and the spirits that reached out to communicate with her.”
In the firelight, Agny’s eyes looked sad. “I thought Sree would be able to change her mind. Many of us believed Yaraella would eventually become an othlor, a ‘true one’ we call them. They are the wisest and most powerful wychlaran, and their connection to the Feywild is strong.”
“The Feywild,” Ashok said. The name evoked a memory, his father teaching him about the mirror world, Faerun, and its peoples. He’d spoken of the Feywild as a world existing alongside Faerun in much the same way the Shadowfell did. Where the Shadowfell was a twisted world of darkness, the Feywild reflected an idyllic landscape. Ashok remembered his father speaking of the place with disdain.
“Though she is a fine teacher, Sree’s efforts came too late, I’m afraid,” Agny said, her voice heavy with emotion. “Yaraella’s visions drove her mad, and a little over a month ago she took her own life.”
Agny reached out to stroke Elina’s hair as she said this, but the child was too absorbed with Ilvani. She paid no attention to their talk.
“Death hasn’t brought her peace,” Ashok said. “She still clings to the world she wanted to leave.”
As he spoke, Ashok heard the words of his father echo mockingly in his head. He remembered the shadows that clung to him as he hung by chains in the caves of Ikemmu.
No god calls them home, his father said.
You’re wrong, Father-Yaraella has a goddess, Ashok thought. Why didn’t Bhalla, the witches’ goddess, come to take her servant? Wasn’t she good enough, powerful enough, to serve Her? Didn’t Bhalla care about her children?
“The storm,” Ilvani said, breaking into Ashok’s dark thoughts. “She’s afraid of it. It chases her wherever she goes.”
“The storm is part of the dream,” Agny reasoned. “It masks the true threat.”
Ashok felt himself growing impatient. “Which is?”
Agny shrugged. “It could be anything-an entity of the Shadowfell perhaps, or a telthor. Perhaps Yaraella displeased a spirit that was trying to communicate with her when she took her life. Her death severed its link to this world. If so, it may have decided to punish Yaraella by preventing her from passing beyond the realm of shadows to Bhalla’s side.”
“Ilvani’s connection to the Shadowfell makes her vulnerable to both Yaraella and whatever threatens her,” Ashok said.
“Not only that,” Agny said. She regarded Ilvani in the wavering light. “I see a bit of her when I look at you. The expression in your eyes-you exist only partly in this world. None of us here can fully comprehend what you see when you take in this room, or the lake outside, and the village. You are like Yaraella’s mirror in the shadow world. Because of this, I am not surprised her spirit sought yours when she was in turmoil. You were the only one who might share her pain.”
“She’s sharing it,” Skagi said, “but it’s getting people killed.”
“Blunt as usual, Brother,” Cree said. “But he’s right. I lost an eye to whatever force is causing this. We’ve lost friends, good warriors-we’re going to stop it.”
“And you intend to use weapons to fight this evil?” Agny said. Dark amusement crept into her voice.
“They brought us this far,” Cree said. “What has your magic done but keep people locked in their homes or driven them away?”
“You said yourself the link to Yaraella is stronger in Ilvani than Elina,” Ashok said. “There has to be a way we can use that. If she’s reaching out for help, why can’t we answer?”
Agny considered. “What you suggest is not beyond wychlaran abilities, but we do not involve outsiders in our sacred rituals. Ilvani’s presence may corrupt the connection instead of strengthen it.”
Ashok saw Cree bristle at the insult, but Ilvani didn’t react. She looked weary through the eyes, and the presence of the child clearly unnerved her. Ashok couldn’t get over how the girl looked at Ilvani, for all the world as if she were her mother.
“I don’t know that we have any other choice,” Ashok said. “If we move on, if the child leaves the village, you might find peace again, but Elina and Ilvani never will until Yaraella’s spirit is freed from whatever threatens her.”
“You speak reasonably for a member of your race,” Agny said, “and you’re right. For Elina’s sake, and for the memory of Yaraella, my sisters and I must act. But it will take time to gather them here.” She stood up. “You may remain here under the protection of Reina until the ritual is ready. She will teach Ilvani her part in it.”
“And she’ll be keeping an eye on the rest of us to make sure we don’t do anything mean,” Skagi said with a chuckle.
“We won’t,” Cree said, “as long as your warriors keep their weapons sheathed as well.”
“The berserkers of the Snow Cat lodge will watch,” Agny said, “nothing more, unless I order it.”
“What about this?” Ilvani said. She gestured to the child still attached to her. “It’s not safe around me. I want it to be gone.”
Agny took up a stool from the corner of the room, picked Elina up, and sat her upon it. “Elina, you know that this woman is not your mother. She’s not Yaraella.”
The little girl looked from Ilvani to the masked woman. Reluctantly, she nodded.
“That’s right. Even though she might feel the same, she’s not like us. You must let her be. Do you understand?”
Another nod.
“Good girl. Wait here for me, please.”
Agny plucked the girl off the stool and placed her before the fire. She led Ashok, Ilvani, and the brothers out into the cold night air. The guards dispersed at her word, but Reina and the other witch, Sree, remained.
“See to their needs, Reina,” Agny said. She laid her hand on Sree’s arm. The witch stared at Ilvani as if she were some sort of demon. “Come, Sister, we must speak.”
“Is it true?” Sree whispered the question to Agny, but Ashok heard her. “Is Yaraella connected to the shadar-kai witch?”
“She is,” Agny said, “and it seems I was wrong. These soulless ones may hold the key to saving hers.”
That night they slept in Reina’s home. Restless, Ashok woke many times in the night, and he, Skagi, and Cree took turns on watch, even though the healer-ethran, they called her-assured them it was unnecessary.
Near dawn, Ashok sat at a table near the fire. He heard Skagi and Cree stir and rise, but Ilvani slept on. She’d had no nightmares that Ashok could tell, but she’d lain awake a long time, silently staring at the ceiling. Ashok didn’t speak to her. He didn’t want to disturb her, but he would have given much to know her thoughts. Was she afraid of the ritual? Ashok couldn’t blame her. Their ignorance of the witches and their magic assured they’d be walking into the ritual blind, trusting only in Agny’s word to protect them.
Cree and Skagi came quietly into the front room. Cree nodded toward the two small bedchambers off the main room. Ashok and the brothers had shared one, Ilvani and Reina, the other. “The healer is talking to Ilvani about something,” he said. “I heard muffled voices but couldn’t make out what they were saying.”
“Hopefully she’ll share something about the ritual,” Ashok said.
Skagi grunted. “Ask me, let them handle their dead witch’s problems on their own. They don’t want us here, so we’ll go.”
“That won’t make Ilvani’s nightmares go away,” Cree said.
“I know that,” Skagi muttered. He fiddled with his falchion hilt, half drawing the weapon from its scabbard. “I just don’t like being idle. We’ve come a long way just to sit and wait on the witches to solve this mystery of who we’re fighting.”
“The force that threatens Yaraella-it must be powerful,” Cree said. “Would they tell us if they knew what it was?”
“I don’t know, but they’d be foolish not to prepare us,” Ashok said. Mimicking Skagi, he took out his own weapon, just to have something to do with his hands. Though stained and knicked all over, the spikes still bore signs of the magic the blacksmith had placed on it.
For the first time since he’d left the city, Ashok found himself missing Ikemmu. After eight months, he’d grown confident in his surroundings, his understanding of the place, and his role in the city. He felt ill at ease in Rashemen.
“We should train,” Cree said. “Look at us. We need a fight, to shake off our uncertainties, if nothing else.”
“Will the guards let us?” Skagi asked.
“Agny said we have the freedom of the village,” Ashok said. His mouth twisted in a smile. “I doubt she’ll mind us trying to cut each other up.”
“Who’s cutting me up?” Skagi said, raising a hand to his ear as if he’d gone deaf. “Did I hear a challenge in those words?”
“You did,” Ashok said. “Though how you could hear anything over the sound of your own bellows …”
“Oh, it was a challenge,” Skagi said. “Outside, pup. You’re getting too cocky, but don’t worry, we’ll cure you of it. We just need to get you down on the ground, picking dirt out of your teeth. Fix you right up.”
The easy banter distracted and comforted Ashok for a time. He trained with Skagi and Cree for hours, until his muscles were on fire and his hands throbbed from the stinging vibration of metal on metal every time their weapons came together. He stopped later only to check on the nightmare stabled behind Reina’s hut.
He saw the healer had been near the nightmare’s stall recently. She’d drawn a circle in the dirt around it and lined the outside with symbols. Bundles of sticks tied with heather were placed at four points around the circle. Ashok saw smoke rising from three of the bundles. The fourth was a blackened lump, the twigs nearly consumed by fire.
The nightmare stood at ease within the circle. Only his smoldering eyes betrayed his rage at the indignity of being kept like a common stable horse. Ashok felt the hate coursing through the stallion. He recognized the emotions as being separate from his own, but he felt them no less strongly for having that knowledge.
A soft gasp made Ashok spin, his hand on his chain. He relaxed when he saw the other masked witch, Sree, standing at the stable door. The shallow light filtering behind her made her appear a walking shadow. Her mask obscured all emotion, and Ashok could not see her eyes. It unsettled him, the idea that he would never know, when these witches approached, if they meant him peace or harm.
“I didn’t mean to disturb you,” Sree said. Ashok detected no threat in her voice, only calm strength tinged with curiosity. “I came to reinforce the circle. It seems I’m just in time.”
“He won’t hurt anyone,” Ashok said. “That’s not what he’s here for.”
The witch chuckled softly and without humor. “Listen to your words. Its presence harms all who come near it. What if a child wandered in here and found the protective circle broken? What if your beast chose that moment to vent its hatred with a scream?”
The truth of the rebuke pierced Ashok. “Forgive me, I-”
The witch held up a hand. “We need not talk of forgiveness. Let me offer you a warning instead. I see the connection between you and this creature, like a black thread that joins you breast to breast. The longer you stay together, the thicker the strand will grow. You already sense it, don’t you?” she said, reading his expression.
Ashok nodded. “I feel what he feels. Sometimes it’s as if I can read his thoughts.”
“Don’t be alarmed by this,” Sree said, “for it can work in your favor, if you allow it.”
“How?”
“Just as you feel its hatred and rage-and are sometimes infected by it-so too can it feel the emotions in your heart. When you show mercy and compassion, it forces the nightmare to experience the same feelings. You can use them to influence him.”
It made sense, and it explained how, out on the Shadowfell plain, the nightmare had been able to shake off the effects of the madness. He had Ashok’s emotions to draw upon to bring him back to sanity.
“But he can also influence me,” Ashok said, “can’t he?”
“Yes,” Sree said. “That is why I warn you-the longer you allow this evil thing to be your companion, the more it becomes part of you. Or maybe I am misguided in my warnings? Maybe that is what you want?”
“No,” Ashok said. “I don’t, but I’m afraid it might be the only way.”
Sree chuckled again. “You do have the air of inevitability about you, shadow man.” She bent and whispered a prayer over the blackened twigs, then threw them in a corner. She laid a fresh bundle in their place and continued around the circle, praying and strengthening the offerings. The smoke rising from the twigs gradually dissipated.
“Agny told me you were training Yaraella to cope with her gifts,” Ashok said. “She said you were a skilled teacher. Does that mean you’re close to the spirit world as well?”
“My sister hathran speaks too highly of me,” Sree said, but Ashok could tell by her tone she was pleased at the praise. “My gifts are nothing like Yaraella’s were. Yet I am known among my sisters for having much patience and control. There is very little in this world or the spirit realm that surprises or frightens me.”
“Except Ilvani,” Ashok said.
The hathran’s eyes widened behind her mask. “You’re mistaken,” she said sharply. “I don’t fear your witch, shadow man, and you’re impertinent to say so.”
Ashok shrugged. “I saw the way you looked at her. Something about her unsettles you, whether you admit it or not.”
Sree walked around the circle again to check it, but Ashok thought she was stalling. Her movements had an edge of anger. All the while, the nightmare watched them both, his red eyes speculative.
Sree sighed and said, “You’re right. She does disturb me. She’s too much like Yaraella. I never thought I would see another with her power, unless Elina grows up to share her gifts. Surely she is an oddity among your people?”
“She-” Ashok hesitated. “Yes. We don’t always understand her. On our journey, Ilvani said she kept seeing owls. I saw her look at the sky so many times, but there was never anything there.”
Sree’s eyes softened. Ashok imagined she might be smiling behind the mask. “Remarkable. A rare breed of brown owl used to inhabit the pinewoods in this area. I’d nearly forgotten. They had all died out by the time I was born. My mother used to collect their feathers, which were often used as quills. Sadly, many of the quills remain, even though all the owls are gone.”
Her words triggered a memory in Ashok’s mind-the day he’d taken Ilvani to Darnae’s shop. “That’s what she said.” He spoke half to himself. “Ilvani looked at Darnae’s quill racks and told her the owls were all gone.” Ashok hadn’t understood a word of it, but Darnae had. She’d understood Ilvani after knowing her for only a few minutes. Ashok had known her for months and hadn’t gotten as far.
Ashok felt suddenly so useless. He tried to recall everything Ilvani had ever said to him. He’d been so arrogant to think that her words were meaningless, when all the time there was truth in them that he’d just been too blind to see.
“Some in Ikemmu call her the mad witch,” Ashok said, remembering Skagi’s words when they’d rescued Ilvani from Ashok’s enclave. “Some call her a prophet.”
“What do you call her?” Sree asked curiously.
“Neither,” Ashok said.
“That’s for the best. It means she can turn to you,” Sree said. “We all turn to the people who see us most clearly.”
“I’ve done little enough for her on that score,” Ashok said, “but I’ll do everything I can to protect her from Yaraella’s monster during the ritual. Nothing will harm her if I can prevent it.”
“Bold words,” Sree said. “You should have faith in her god and ours to watch over this endeavor.”
Ashok laughed without humor. “You ask for the one thing I can’t give,” he said. “Why should we trust Tempus and Bhalla to favor us? What have they done thus far to ensure Ilvani’s safety or Yaraella’s peace? Your witch took her life because she couldn’t bear her gifts. Mine has lived through a hell that would break lesser men. You say they’re close to the spirit realm-that makes them closer to their gods than all of us.” Ashok was aware of his voice rising, but he couldn’t stop the words or the anger. “Tell me, who is more deserving of protection than they? Yet here we sit, you and I, whole and sane”-he laughed again bitterly-“or at least as sane as can be expected, while the ones we care about die or lose pieces of themselves. What can we truly expect from the gods?”
“Nothing,” Sree said simply.
“A poor answer,” Ashok said, his tone sullen.
“A true answer,” Sree corrected him. “It’s not for us to know the gods’ will. Human or shadar-kai-all we can do is live our lives, make the best choices we can, and accept that we can’t control everything.”
“If that’s all, why do I need Tempus?” Ashok said.
“Don’t mistake me for a spiritual guide,” Sree said. “You’ll have to work out your faith-or lack of it-by yourself.” She looked at him for a long time in thoughtful silence. “But if you’re determined to protect Ilvani in her god’s place, I may be able to help you,” she said. “You can’t join in our ritual directly, but when the time comes, speak to me again, and I will show you a way you can watch over Ilvani, if you wish.”
Her gesture of trust surprised Ashok. “I do. You have my thanks,” he said.
She chuckled. “You thank me for offering you the chance to risk your life meddling with death and dangerous magic. It’s true what folk say of the shadar-kai, isn’t it? You chase pain with mad smiles on your faces.”
“For the sake of my city and my companions-always,” Ashok said.
Ashok left the nightmare secure in the protective circle. Not far away, Skagi and Cree were still sparring, and Ashok noticed their battles had attracted a small audience of Rashemi berserkers. A part of him wanted to join them, to challenge the berserkers to a match, but instead he found himself walking off toward the pinewoods behind Reina’s hut.
He walked until the sound of voices and the ring of steel faded to a dim song in the back of his mind. He held his chain in his hands and put his back against one of the immense pines. The perpetual cold and silence plucked at his spirit, but Ashok pushed back against the oppressive feeling.
Looking up into the trees, Ashok tried to imagine Ilvani’s owls. He squinted into the dim sunlight until his vision blurred, but even then, the phantoms did not appear.
“You showed me the Tuigan soldier,” Ashok said. His anger rekindled. “I did what you wanted. The least you can do is show me her owls.”
He pushed off the tree and wandered in an aimless circle, unsure how to proceed. If Uwan were here, he would know.
“Tempus,” he said abruptly, and stopped, half-shocked to hear the god’s name come from his lips. He couldn’t take it back, so he hurried on, speaking through his anger. “If you know her at all, you know what’s at stake. Help her survive this ordeal. Let her find peace. She’s given up too much already. I’ll do what I can, but remember, I’m not doing it for you. It’s only for her.”
He put his chain back on his belt and left the wood. He was almost to the path that led up to Reina’s door when he heard a rustle in the trees. He spun, his hand on his weapon. A shower of pine needles littered the spot where he’d been standing a breath ago. The sunlight flashed in his eyes, momentarily blinding him, but in that instant Ashok thought he saw wings silhouetted against the sun. When he blinked his vision clear, he saw nothing, no bird in the sky.
The pine needles were still there.