17

Dally walked the green lane and wished she could find it within herself to appreciate all she witnessed.

She tried her best to look, to see, to remember. But nothing impacted her beyond the most superficial level. Her eyes took in the way the limbs wove together on both sides and high overhead, and how a living sort of light suffused every leaf and branch. She was aware that the passage of an entire army made no sound. She knew they walked for a time, and yet time did not touch them, for when they emerged from the tunnel and passed through the portal, the sun had not moved. Perhaps at some future point she would be able to recall all this and feel the wonder that escaped her now. But just then Dally was consumed by the tumult that overwhelmed her.

She stood at the back of the procession, blinking in the sunlight. Ahead of her, a line of white triangular stones marked the Ashanta boundary. A group of elders in white robes awaited them inside the perimeter. When Shona and the Elves passed inside the stones, Dally curtsied with the others. She joined in the long line that followed the silent Ashanta with their remarkable eyes of blue upon blue. They crossed over a pair of carved bridges and halted by a broad square stone. They interred Joelle’s ashes where the stone met the emerald meadow, in sight of a city that gleamed white in the afternoon sun.

Shona spoke around her tears, then the Elven queen, and finally a young Ashanta woman. Dally recognized the voice from her dream contact as belonging to Bryna. Dally knew she would soon need to step forward and introduce herself. But all the while her mind was filled with questions for which she had no answers. They rose and fell in crashing, silent waves that rocked her at the level of heart and sinew.

Dally’s questions held the same force as the images that had assaulted her when the tunnel opened beside Shona’s camp. They were as insistent as battle spells, thrusting themselves deeply into her being. Only this time she had no reason to turn to others, beg for their help, tell her how to make them go away.

Who was she really? What did she seek to do with her life? Her past had been stripped away, the prison of her former existence gone. She was free, and yet Dally did not know what the word even meant. What course did she wish to chart for herself? She found herself struggling not to weep, though many of those gathered here bore tear-streaked faces. She was wracked by a sorrow that made no sense. She had a purpose. She had gifts. Her life held meaning. Should she not be thrilled? Where was the joy?

In the silent, sunlit warmth, Dally realized she had no idea what she wanted. The confusion was as powerful as guilt, though she had done nothing wrong. She felt herself being reshaped by the questions, as though images that had not yet appeared required her to ask what she had spent years fleeing.

Worst of all was the simple fact that she did not even know her own name.

With a start Dally realized the service was over and Bryna had sidled up to her unnoticed. The woman spoke slowly, and with an accent Dally had not detected in their previous meeting. “You have seen beyond yourself once more.”

Bryna’s manner of speech pushed aside Dally’s confusion. “How do you know?”

“I can see it in your eyes. You struggle on your return, yes?” Bryna must have found what answer she sought in Dally’s silence. “The way your being is wrenched does not ever completely depart. I use the correct word, yes? Wrenched. You feel . . .”

“Like I don’t know who I am. Yes.”

“Joelle taught me the human tongue. I have not used it since she was poisoned. Forgive me if I do not speak correctly.”

“You speak it fine.”

“I am this settlement’s new Seer. For just a few weeks. The old woman perished before I was ready. But I have no choice now. These are dark times, and my role is vital to our survival.”

The woman’s eyes were her most remarkable feature. There was no white to them at all. The blue was so deep it appeared almost black. Dally decided it suited her features, which were as placid as living wax. “How did you know to come to me?”

“Ah. Yes. That is the question, is it not? I am not sure of the answer. I doubt my old teacher would have known the answer. She was one of those . . .” Bryna went silent at the Elven queen’s approach.

The ruler of the green kingdom said, “Please continue.”

Bryna showed surprise. “You speak the common tongue?”

“The old barriers are falling. We must adapt.”

“I wish my leaders agreed with you.” Bryna watched as the Ashanta leaders bowed to Shona, then again to the small grave, and started back. “My late teacher tainted every report with her distaste for the world beyond our boundary stones.”

“She told your elders what they wanted to hear,” the queen replied.

“What some want, perhaps most. The argument flows back and forth. And because no decision is reached nor action taken, those who seek isolation count each day as a victory.”

“They are wrong.” The queen radiated angry disapproval, but her voice held to its mild tone. “They failed my race once before with their dithering. May it never happen again.”

Bryna nodded. “So say I and many others.”

“We must depart. Dally has informed us that the enemy plans another attack this very day.”

“I am expressly forbidden to join you.” Bryna’s voice showed a sorrowful yearning, soft as a sigh of forest wind. “Some are furious that I have made a far-reaching contact with a human.”

The queen repeated more softly, “They are wrong.”

“I and my allies agree with you.” Bryna reached under her robe and withdrew a wand. “We offer this as a sign that we shall join you as soon as we are permitted.”

The queen’s gaze tightened as she inspected the letters carved along the staff. “That writing . . .”

“Milantian. I found it in our deepest cellar. There is no record of its presence. No one knew it even existed until it called to me.”

“When did this happen?”

“Immediately after I was drawn to meet with Dally.”

“Then it is hers.” To Dally the queen said, “Take it.”

“But . . . the Milantians . . .”

“Are the enemy,” she confirmed. “And yet the stones of power know no allegiance. Good or evil, that is the mage’s decision.”

She accepted the wand with numb fingers. “Thank you, Bryna.”

“I add my gratitude to hers, Bryna. May you and your allies succeed. We need your help.” The queen touched Dally’s shoulder. “We must be away. The enemy is coming.”