FIFTEEN

‘Ki!’ Dresh hissed.

‘What is it?’ she mumbled. How long had it been since she last slept? She hovered on the edge of sleep, seeing only because Dresh kept his eyes open and fed her the images; her own eyes had sagged shut long ago.

‘Wake up, fool!’

‘What is it?’ she repeated. She picked up the head and put it on her lap again. Tension emanated from him, Ki felt a trembling in her fingertips that was not her own nervousness.

‘My hands. I feel a coolness on them, a touch of power. Someone has opened my box.’

She shifted Dresh’s head against her arm. The weight of it pulled at her weary shoulder muscles. Their eyes were fixed on the wall, but Dresh saw more than Ki did.

‘It’s the end of the game, isn’t it?’ Ki whispered.

‘Not quite. We’re too close to give up now. Only one of them watches over me; of that I am sure. We must act now.’

‘What are we going to do?’ Ki got to her feet, Dresh riding heavily on her arm.

‘I don’t know. We shall have to act as our impulses dictate. Out the door and into the hall, Ki.’

She eased open the door of the Windsinger’s cell and poked her head cautiously out. Then she drew it in with a sigh, and projected Dresh’s head into the hall instead. She took in an empty vista. Awkwardly she rotated the head on its block to scan the other direction. Safe as well. She clutched the head to her body again and hurried out and down the hall.

They had gone no more than a handful of paces when Ki heard the rustle of robes and the patter and slap of bare feet.

‘Someone approaches!’ Dresh hissed.

Her shoulder jarred against a door that shockingly offered no resistance, and she found herself clutching the wizard’s head as she skidded and fought for balance. The closing door clipped her hip as it swung shut silently behind her. Her thrust had carried her into the center of a room. The sole occupant, her dark eyes wide in shock, shot to her feet, a small ovoid of blue stone clutched between her pale hands.

As Ki regained her footing, the Windsinger crouched to set the ovoid carefully on the floor behind her. Then she rose to full height, her cowled and knobby skull towering over Ki. Ki did not wait for Dresh to react. She dropped his head and flung herself at the white-robed figure.

Ki’s tanned hands closed on the scaled wrists, but to Ki’s eyes, deprived now of Dresh’s sight, she wrestled with a pale tower. From the tower’s peak shot a fall of blazing fire. The shimmering walls of the room spun around her, but she did not loosen her grip. A Windsinger seized was as a snake pinned: more deadly to free than to hold. They struggled in silence. Red sparks darted from two dark holes in the tower, stinging against Ki’s face.

Hands that can hold a plunging team in check; shoulders that have spent a lifetime loading freight and bundles; these do not tire easily, especially while enmeshed in the web of fear. Ignoring the sparks tingling against her cheeks, Ki jerked forward and sharply down. The tower collapsed, to less than Ki’s height, and Ki flung herself upon it. They crashed together to the heaving floor. The struggle was suddenly over.

Ki froze. The pale tower was a warm and lumpy mass beneath her elbows and knees. She did not release her grip on the wrists. Even the lack of sparks from the now pinkish eye places did not reassure her.

‘Dresh!’ Ki called hoarsely. Only now did she think of the abrupt way she had dropped him. She cast anxious eyes about the chamber. The wavering translucent walls mocked her. Would the block of stone that the head was rooted to shatter under such an impact? If the back of his head struck first, would he be unconscious, perhaps worse? She could find no trace of him.

Systematically, she began at what she guessed had been the door; a more pronounced ripple in the surface of the quavering walls. She lowered her eyes and fought the vertigo that assailed her, sweeping her eyes in slow passes over the palpitating floor. Even when she finally spotted the cube of darkness and its ever lingering spark, she found it strangely difficult to keep his location fixed in her mind.

He was, she guessed, a handful of paces away. It was so difficult to tell. She gazed at him hopelessly and fought down a wave of panic. She could not reach Dresh unless she released her prisoner. But she would not know until she reached Dresh if it were safe to release the Windsinger. The body beneath her was still and limp and as terrifying as ever.

‘Dresh!’ Ki ventured again. Was that a muttered reply? Gradually she eased her weight off the body beneath hers. One of her hands strained to encompass two of what Ki fervently hoped were wrists. Feeling both foolish and frightened, she began to extend her body in the direction of Dresh’s cube. She tried not to imagine what her disadvantage would be if her captive began to stir while she herself was stretched full length upon the nauseatingly shimmering floor.

But even the full length of her body did not reach Dresh. She could not decide how far away he really was. She gave a tug at the Windsinger, sliding her across the floor. She reached again, but found no Dresh. Four times she tugged her unconscious captive along, before a questing fingertip brushed against Dresh’s head. His world snapped into place around her.

‘You look ridiculous,’ Dresh pointed out. Ki stared at herself ruefully. A tiny trickle of blood was making its way down from the left corner of her mouth. From this disconcerting angle of perception, she deduced that Dresh’s head was resting on its side.

‘I trust you are not harmed?’ she inquired apologetically.

‘Less than one might expect, given the circumstances. Ki, let go of her. Can’t you see she’s unconscious?’

‘No, I can’t. One can never trust a Windsinger,’ she replied, her voice going hard. But she released her grip. To her chagrin, she saw that her victim would scarce have reached her shoulder, were it not for the loathsome cowl. Dresh read her thoughts.

‘What you saw with your own eyes was, in this case, more accurate. She glows with a more powerful aura than I would expect of one of her rank. Even more strange is the restraint I read upon her. As if she were at all times pretending to be less than she is. It is a phenomenon I have never before encountered in a Windsinger. Yes, as you say, one can never trust them. Do they send you the rains out of love and mercy, or only so they may tax you the more?’

‘Save your mind-wrestling for the tavern crowd, Dresh. Let us be more practical now. What are we to do with her? When she awakes, she will surely rouse the whole hive of Windsingers.’

Dresh clicked his tongue. ‘The answer is clear, Ki. She shall not awake. We shall slip her out through the walls.’

Ki had crawled the rest of the way to Dresh. She watched herself loom larger as she came nearer to the wizard. Now, in her odd half-blinded way, she watched her hands grope for his head. It was the one thing his eyes could not focus on for her. Gently she felt out the shape of his head. She used both hands to put the head and block of stone upright. Transferring him to her lap, she brushed the hair from his forehead. She ran light fingers over his face, trying to tell by touch if he had been injured in the fall. She fingered the beginnings of a lump just back of his hairline.

‘Stop that! I was stunned, but only for a moment. If I needed your ministrations, I would tell you so. We may not dally now. We must dispose of this Windsinger before she awakes.’

‘You must, perhaps. Not I. I cannot do such a thing; not in so cold-blooded a fashion, anyway. Were we still struggling in the heat of terror, I could kill her. But to push her out into that emptiness we jumped …’ Ki shrugged, then shook her head. ‘I cannot.’

‘This is foolishness! We would not kill her. We would only … “pause” her life. Eventually she might be found to resume it. Consider her as a viper found nesting among the blankets on your bed.’

‘Then I should lift it up, blankets and all, to shake it out in the woods.’

‘Fool that you are, I believe you would. And it would bite you another day for your mercy. Come, then, let us bind her, if that is the best you can do.’

But as Ki lifted Dresh and rose, the Windsinger on the floor stirred. Ki’s vision of her narrowed as Dresh squinted at the revealed face in surprise.

‘I have seen this Windsinger before,’ he mumbled, half to himself. ‘But she was not robed as an apprentice then. Ki! Help me find the blue egg she was holding when we came in.’

Nervously Ki rotated her body so that Dresh could scan the floor of the chamber. Could not he see that the Windsinger was struggling to rise? Her own impulse was to fell her again, or at least to flee.

Ki pounced, but not on the Windsinger. Once more Dresh had pre-empted her physical command of her body. She had caught up the blue thing in her hand before she was aware of seeing it. From Dresh’s mouth came a hoarse caw of triumph.

‘No meditation orb this! I thought the blue too deep a shade! Now, little bird, what does a white-robed apprentice have to do with a speaking egg? What information could you possess so vital that a Windmistress would trust you with one of these pretties?’

Ki held the egg up for the captive’s inspection. It was about the size of an apple, but smoothly egg-shaped. It shone transparent blue, but for a single white spark frozen in its center. It reminded her of nothing so much as Dresh’s head as she saw it on this plane. The texture of it made her uneasy. It was heavy for its size. Despite its crystal shine, it felt leathery in her hand, rough and raspy against her skin.

Dresh’s eyes snapped away from the egg, to clash with the dark ones of the Windsinger on the floor. She was sitting up now, one hand gingerly smoothing the white cowl over her high brow. She lowered her hand shakily, opened her lips as if to speak, and then firmly shut her mouth. Anger flashed in her eyes.

‘Come. I’ve seen you before. You were in the company of Shiela, of the High Council, and your robes were as blue as morning sea. What is your name, little breezemaker?’

The woman on the floor glared at Dresh. Then, like the moon breaking free of cloud cover, she dropped the anger from her face. When she spoke, her voice was a low musical alto. It held no emotion.

‘Do you think, Dresh, that I would be so foolish as to gift you with the power of my name?’

‘Um. She wants to spar, doesn’t she, Ki? I do not think we shall learn anything from her that we have not already guessed. Such as, that Rebeke has no idea of your true rank among Windsingers. That explains the cloak of restraint you hide behind. And consider her silence, Ki. Not a sound from her when we burst in, nor during your amusing little wrestling match. I think she would rather face strangers alone than have anyone come upon her with the egg in her hands. What we have here, Ki, is a scorpion in the adder’s nest; a spy among her own kind.’

The Windsinger’s expression did not change. She resmoothed her cowl again and tugged the sleeves of her robe to even them. She did not smile as her eyes came up to meet theirs.

Dresh’s eyes clinched with hers. ‘You might get away with killing Ki. But it would take some explaining, to both your mistresses, if my aura abruptly winked out. Nor do I think Rebeke would be the one you would fear most. Whoever awaits your word through the egg would be the most awesome in her wrath. So put aside the poisoned needle you just drew from your sleeve. It cannot help you.’

The Windsinger’s dark eyes were catlike in their unwinking stare. The needle made a sweet ringing against the floor. Slowly the Windsinger rose.

Ki felt her courage ebbing out through the pit of her stomach. Her mind tried to add up the levels of danger facing her. First the Windsingers, whose realm they were in; secondly from this spy among the Windsingers; thirdly from whomever this creature spied for. And even if she could safely avoid them all and reclaim Dresh’s part, even if she could safely regain her own world and pick up her life strings, was not Dresh himself a danger to reckon with?

‘Steady, Ki,’ muttered Dresh, as if sensing her forebodings. ‘We have been gifted with a weapon deadlier than any rapier hand has ever held. For the time being, at least, I think that our interests are in line with this traitor’s.’

‘You are proposing an alliance?’ The Windsinger stated it coldly. Her fine dark brows arched up to her cowl.

‘I am. You aid me in locating and regaining my boxes. In return, I shall not betray you to Rebeke.’

‘My gain is too small.’

‘As you please. We know that I cannot remain undetected on this plane for long. Surely Rebeke has posted watchers for my aura. They will pick me out, they will come searching. They will find me here, with you, in your room. They will find the egg of speaking. It will be my end, and Ki’s. But our final request shall be to hear you explain your way out of it. You are a spy to Rebeke, and an embarrassment to … the High Council, perhaps?’

‘My patron is a powerful one. Rebeke will not dare to harm me, no matter what my transgressions.’

Ki felt Dresh shake his head, and heard the clicking of his tongue. ‘You have not been here long, if you know no more of Rebeke’s temper than that. She will rend you first, and then wonder if it was politic. Even when Rebeke was a Human, her temper was savage. Windsinging, I imagine, will have refined its edge.’

Was it uneasiness or mere restlessness that caused the woman to shift her feet? Ki wondered. Dresh was quiet, letting the silence grow huge in the room. Ki resisted the impulse to fidget. A memory floated to the surface of her mind. Ki snared it. Thus had she used to stand, in bored and useless anxiety, while her father haggled over horses. Her interest in the matter was vital, her power in the exchange null.

‘When you interrupted me at the speaking egg, I …’

‘Come, come, let us stop the falsehoods before they begin. Had you even begun to speak through that egg, it would have been hot enough to blister Ki’s untrained hands. You have spoken to no one as yet.’

The Windsinger bit her lower lip. The hidden anger flashed out once from the dark eyes, and was gone again. ‘You offer me nothing, wizard. If Rebeke knew I spied on her, she might kill me. But if I help you to regain your body and escape, will not both Rebeke and my patron take a vengeance on me?’

Ki knit her brows over her closed eyes, but Dresh’s voice was smooth as honey. ‘Of course they would, if they knew it was your doing. But it seems to me that if you have played a two-faced game this far, it would not overly tax you to make it three-faced. Put your mind to it, breezemaker. I shall make it simple for you. All I ask is that you escort me safely to the place where my body is held, and draw off any guards. I shall handle my own escape from there.’

‘Certainly,’ the Windsinger replied sarcastically. ‘And shall I pack a moon for you to take along?’

Dresh smiled hard. ‘Don’t bother.’ He lifted Ki’s hand with the speaking egg in it. ‘I shall be content with this.’

The woman stood still, listening perhaps. Her dark eyes were veiled with her own darker thoughts. Ki shifted her weight, juggling the head and egg into a more comfortable counter-balance.

‘My time is short,’ Dresh warned her. ‘Debate on this too long, and others will decide for you. You must agree, or be discovered.’

‘Do you think I don’t realize that, head?’ the Windsinger asked coldly. A slender hand strayed up to touch her mouth. ‘Wait here for me, then.’ And she was gone, moving swiftly and silently.

‘She will bring them all down on us,’ Ki muttered.

‘Not while we hold the egg. She will do anything in the hopes of regaining it unharmed. But it all rides in our little traitor now. If she is creative enough in her deceits, we may yet win back my body.’

‘And if she is not?’ Ki’s voice was flat.

‘Then hold that egg ready for throwing, my dear. We shall open a doorway that lets in the otherness as we wink out. We shall not die cheaply.’

‘A grand comfort, that,’ Ki replied sourly. She shifted egg and head again. The egg weighed heavily at the end of her arm. Her shoulders and back ached. The strain of seeing through Dresh’s eyes fuzzed her mind. Her reasons for accompanying him on this ridiculous quest had paled to idealistic idiocy in her own mind. Pride and honor seemed but foolish trinkets compared to the living of life to its end. She found herself wondering if Dresh had not somehow bent her mind into going along with it. That kiss … if that was not proof of how he could twist her will, what was? And to so demean her independent will must be an indication of his small regard for her. She was a tool for him, a mindless gadget to be used at his whim. And what real grudges did she have against Windsingers? A few unvoiced forebodings in the back of her mind, her father’s vague accusatory hints, Vandien’s foolishness, Dresh’s own long-winded harangues. In fact …

‘Ki, if you let the egg seduce you now, we are both lost.’

Ki jarred back to wakefulness. Dream cobwebs snapped in her mind. Pyramids of reasoning collapsed under the weight of their own conclusions. She brought the egg up to Dresh’s eye level, but he flicked their gaze away from it.

‘It is dangerous enough that you hold it in your bare hand, with its hide against your skin. It would be folly to gaze untrained into its depth. Its loyalty is to the Windsingers that feed it. Listen to it, and it will bid you to dash out your brains against the walls, to cut your own throat, and you will obey. Concentrate on our task.’

She shook her head. She felt spidery hands tugging at her mind’s skirts for attention, but she joined her thoughts to Dresh’s vision and stared at the chamber door.

‘She comes,’ whispered Dresh.

Ki held her breath, listening. She heard nothing. But the door swung open, and their Windsinger peered in.

‘Come swiftly now. I have lured them all from their watching, sent the last watcher to follow Rebeke, telling her that she was summoned. The body is yours for the taking. But you must come swiftly, for this ruse will not keep them away long. Come!’

Ki shrugged her load up and followed. She moved out into the passageway behind the Windsinger. Cautiously she pointed Dresh’s head first in one direction and then the other, to be sure all was clear. Then she followed. Her lips tightened in a smile as she realized she was using Dresh’s head as a torch. It was his turn to be the tool.

It swiftly became apparent that what she had regarded as a corridor was part of a labyrinth. When the Windsinger turned left through a door, Ki shadowed her, but instead of the expected chamber, she found herself in another passageway identical to the first one. They wound their way through a universe of stark walls and plain doors. Ki tangled her mind trying to remember how many doors they had passed each time before turning, and the directions of each turn. After a hand of turns, she gave up the notion. She snorted softly as she decided that even if she had been able to retrace their route, it could only lead them back to the dubious sanctuary of the Windsinger’s chamber.

So it was that Ki was totally unprepared when her guide stepped through one more door, and stopped. Ki trod upon the hem of the Windsinger’s gown before she realized they had arrived. Swiftly mumbling an apology, she stepped back and swept Dresh’s gaze over the room.

There was little to see. Ki ignored the sky windows. There were the two empty stools for the watchers. There was the small black table with Dresh’s bared hands resting upon it. Ki’s heart squeezed at this eerie sight; it was as chilling as her first glimpse of the bodiless head that she now carried so casually. Yet this time it was not just the magic that appalled her, it was the evidence of the superior skills of the Windsingers to undo it. The lid of the hand casket had been left on the floor. Beside the other stool was the square enamel box that contained Dresh’s body. Another sweep of Dresh’s eyes flashed over the sky windows, and the lush hides scattered on the floor. The high ceiling receded into shadows. A sourceless light gave an appearance of afternoon to the chamber. It did not come from the sky windows; some of them were in full night now, while in others the rising sun stained the skies. Ki wasted no time on what she now knew were illusions. She swung Dresh in a swift scan of the room, seeking other exits.

‘Confound it, girl!’ the wizard growled. ‘Whirl me about once more, and I shall be as sick to my stomach as a head without one can be. My eyes do move independently of my skull. Besides, we have no time for gawking. This procedure takes some little time, even under the best circumstances. We cannot make even one mistake now, for I doubt if even our little friend’s fertile imagination can invent lies enough to keep Rebeke away for long.’

‘At least your hands are already opened for you,’ Ki pointed out.

‘I shall have to remember to thank the Windsingers for that small saving of time. Take me over by the casket. I shall require your hands again.’

‘What about her?’ Ki asked, jogging Dresh’s head in the Windsinger’s direction.

‘What of her? Do you propose to stand a watch over her to prevent her escape while I work this magic? Be logical, Ki. Should she begin to scream and run, what could we do? Shall you chase her down the hall, my head ajounce upon your arm, to fling me rudely to the floor when you catch her? No, all we have to bind her with is her own deceitfulness. And a small blue egg. Come. To work now.’

But when she stood beside the coffin, a second problem arose. With Dresh on her left arm and the egg in her right hand, she had no hands left for stone pressing. After a moment’s juggling, she settled Dresh’s head with the egg tucked under his chin in the crook of her elbow. She took a deep breath. With a shiver of trepidation, she set her free hand on top of the casket.

Just as it had by her campfire, her arm took on a life of its own. Through Dresh’s eyes, Ki watched her hand dance over the colored stones on the lid. A center crack appeared. Gently her hand eased back the two sides of the lid to reveal Dresh’s body. He was huddled within the box, neatly tucked into the cube. Neck and wrists were neatly stoppered with black cubes of red-veined stone. Ki returned the egg to her right hand and hiked Dresh’s head higher for a better look.

‘Now what?’ she whispered to Dresh.

‘Now the work begins,’ Dresh growled in reply. ‘Step back, Ki, and give me some room.’

She stood back from the coffin. An eerie foreknowledge afflicted her. She was not surprised, but strangely revolted when a forearm that ended in a block of stone groped its way over the side of the box. Next, a brown-clad shoulder pushed itself into view. With a sudden heave, the chest and block head swayed upright.

‘Deucedly hard to balance a body with no head on it,’ Dresh grumbled to himself.

The body braced a block hand on the edge of its crate and awkwardly clambered to its feet. An unnaturally high step, like a marionette in an amateur’s hands, and the body placed one of its feet on the floor. The other foot followed, and the headless, handless body swayed on its feet. Ki and the head looked it over. Dresh’s claims were true, Ki found herself admitting; he was not a badly made man. An acorn-brown tunic covered his torso to his hips; the bare arms that moved and flexed now were evenly muscled. Hose of a darker brown sheathed his muscular legs. His feet were shod in light buskins. Not ill made at all. But at each wrist and on the stump of the neck was a block of the familiar red-veined stone. With a queasy feeling, she noted that the chest rose and fell very slightly; she had no doubt that within that chest a heart lightly fluttered. Slowly the body extended a stone-ended right arm in Ki’s direction.

‘Body, Ki. Ki, I’d like you to meet my body. Touch hands, or whatever!’ Dresh barked out a macabre laugh. Ki shuddered and took an involuntary backward step.

‘Enough levity!’ Dresh thundered suddenly, as if she had been the one to begin it. ‘We have no time for it. We have the pieces, Ki. Now we have to put the puzzle back together, and then return to your world. We shall need a piece of brown chalk. I think you will find some in my purse, at my waist. Place my hands at my feet. Then draw a circle around my body equal to my normal height. And, Lord of Fishes, hurry!’

She suppressed a shudder as she gently frisked Dresh’s body for the chalk. Once more she had to jumble egg and head together as she moved the hands over to Dresh’s feet. When one of the hands on the block stirred and gave her a pat on the wrist, she did not find it reassuring.

‘Put the egg in my hand. I suppose I can trust myself with it,’ Dresh remarked gaily.

Ki was beginning to wonder if he was mad. But his fey mood was infectious. Head tucked securely against her, she crawled in a backwards circle around the body, sketching in the circle with the soft chalk on the polished floor.

‘And now?’ she asked as the two ends of the circle nearly met.

‘And now set the head upon the floor and back away from it, mortal!’

Dresh’s eyes flickered to the doorway. A tall Windsinger robed in deepest blue was poised there. Her brown eyes had the wide white rims of the full Singer. Their mocking stare froze Ki’s blood. She remained crouched on the floor, chalk poised in her hand to finish the circle. Dresh’s head was clutched to her breast.

‘Do as I say, mortal!’

The Windsinger’s voice brooked no denial. Ki moved to place Dresh’s head upon the floor. But she did not move. The hands she willed to lower the head remained clutching it. The legs she willed to back away from Dresh remained crouched. In her hands she felt the muscles of Dresh’s head harden in a grin.

‘Medie! I had scarcely expected to encounter you here! Something more than my sundered body has drawn you here, I’ll wager. How, now, cast not your eyes so menacingly upon Ki. Would you slay the cow because the farmer displeased you?’

‘Not a farmer’s cow, Dresh. But I would slay the battle horse that carries the warrior. So!’

Medie raised her hand. Something flashed in her fingertips. Ki squinted her eyes more tightly shut, but Dresh’s went on seeing for her. She flinched in anticipation.

It seemed to Ki that Medie grew taller as she stood, her threatening hand raised for an eternity. Her brown and white eyes were wide and staring. Her scaly lips moved silently. The raised hand wavered. Like a great tree falling, Medie swayed forward. She struck the floor face first, making no effort to catch herself. Whatever had flashed at her fingertips ran sparkling about the floor for an instant, and then dispersed. Medie lay still, soundless.

Ki breathed again. ‘What did you do to her?’ she whispered in awe.

‘I? I did nothing,’ Dresh said softly. ‘Medie lies dead, Ki, not merely struck senseless. That is not my way.’

‘No. It is my way.’ Stepping through the doorway, their traitor-ally stooped over Medie’s body. Ki felt her gorge rise as the younger Windsinger drew from the concealing folds of Medie’s robe a long narrow blade. With a dainty wiping motion, she fastidiously cleaned the blood from the blade with her fingertips, and dried them upon Medie’s robe. She smiled as she looked up and her eyes met the wizard’s.

‘Now you may set the head down with the other parts and back away,’ she coolly informed Ki.

‘Think well on what you do, breezemaker. Medie may be dead, but that will not free you from Rebeke’s vengeance. In fact, it will cause her hands to fall on you more swiftly. It was the act of a fool!’

The Windsinger raised her thin eyebrows in mock innocence. ‘On the contrary, wizard, Rebeke will be indebted to me. Have I not slain the traitorous Medie, an obvious informant to the High Council, here only to trap Rebeke with her own words? In your own hands you grasp the egg that is the proof of my words. Did not Medie gather here the parts of the wizard, Dresh, that she might claim his power for herself and the Council? No, wizard, I think my act has earned me the gratitude of Rebeke, not her vengeance. Put the head at the feet of the body, girl!’

There was whiplash in the sudden command. The wizard’s mind held Ki’s body motionless. Ki remained crouching at the gap in the chalk circle, the head grasped close to her.

‘Think you truly that Rebeke is to be fooled so easily, breezebringer? Then you do not know her. As a mortal woman, she was clear of sight, more clever than any vixen that ever led dogs away from her kits. She could tell a man’s mind before he spoke it, know what a child would do before the child did it. Your own training should tell you that her Windsinging days will only have enhanced those abilities. Will you pit your pretty guiles against such a one?’

‘Silence, head!’ snarled the Windsinger. ‘Let the teamster obey me, or let her die as she grasps your empty skull. I care not. You both go soon, anyway.’

Dresh’s eyes gripped the traitor’s. But Ki was unaware of her hand, unwatched by herself or Dresh and unnoticed by the Windsinger, as it moved the chalk swiftly and secretly. Even as the Windsinger finished speaking. Dresh’s will jerked Ki within the completed circle. A darting glance of Dresh’s eyes showed Ki a tiny rune chalked upon the floor at her feet. The silence settled slowly in the chamber like dust settling after a heavy cart on a summer trail.

‘Do you expect me to be impressed with this? Why not juggle three eggs, or make a handful of colored glass beads appear? I should be just as awed, little wizard. How long do you think an earthrune will hold, chalked on the floor of a Windsinger’s chamber?’

‘Long enough.’ Dresh was grim. Ki held herself still and small. She was, she reflected, a puppet, a body to jerk about when the right strings were pulled. These two would not even hear her words, should she speak. They played for stakes she could not afford; her life was less than a copper shard on their gaming table. Ki ground her teeth silently, cursing all magic, whether of earth, sky, or water. She longed with sudden pain for the feel of Sigurd’s coarse mane, for the homey smells of her cuddy and camp, even for Vandien’s acid wit. Dispassionately she thought of the rapier, sheathed and useless in another world. As useless as it would be here. I can but die, she thought to herself, and took an odd comfort from the thought.

The young Windsinger drew from her robes a small cube of blue chalk. Outside the circle, opposite Dresh’s rune, she crouched, swirling markings upon the floor. But Dresh’s eyes did not linger upon her. He drew Ki’s body across to his own, took into her hand once more the blue egg.

‘Shall we try to reassemble you now?’ Ki ventured. Dresh seemed to have forgotten about her mind, using her body as freely as his own.

‘Hopeless.’ Dresh stated it factually. ‘Under these stresses, the correct convergences could never be formed. I would be certain to die under the operation. Almost as certainly we shall both die now. Unless. Unless.’ He turned his vision back to the doorway. Medie lay as she had fallen. A small area on the back of her blue robes was stained a darker color. The hidden contents of the tall cowl were limp on the floor. Ki shuddered. Death would never fail to awe her, no matter how often she saw it. A coldness swept up from Ki’s stomach.

Dresh’s eyes flicked back to their enemy. She made a final flourish and looked up at him, triumph leering from her dark eyes. A cold voice cut the air of the chamber.

‘Guests, Grielea? Have you chosen to entertain them without consulting me?’

Like a curtain falling, a veil of innocence cloaked the triumph in Grielea’s eyes. All eyes in the room, even Ki’s closed ones, turned in the direction of the voice. Rebeke had entered silently. She rose now from where she had bent over Medie’s body. For a moment she contemplated the scarlet stains on the tips of her long fingers. She rubbed the tips of her fingers together, and then extended them in Grielea’s direction. The gesture had the eloquence of a thousand questions. Grielea broke before that moment. She strove to answer them all at once.

‘She was a traitor to thee, Windmistress. See, I did find her with the wizard’s parts, and the speaking egg. I heard her as she began the summoning words that would call the Council. I … I guessed at her betrayal. In my anger that she could do so to one I loved, I slew her. I beg your forgiveness.’

Tears dribbled from Grielea’s black eyes. Slowly she dropped her head, and her tall cowl bobbed to obscure her eyes. Rebeke stood silent. But Ki was shocked beyond measure at the look in her eyes. Dresh met her gaze unwaveringly. Ki eavesdropped at the language of their silence, but could not believe the message that passed between them. Never before had Ki seen sorrow in a Windsinger’s eyes. Dresh began to speak, his voice low, conversational.

‘One might ask her, Rebeke, why she wears the white robes of the apprentice if she knows the words that activate a speaking egg. One might even wonder where a mere child such as she got the knowledge to form such a sky rune as is drawn at her feet. Or even why she carries the blue chalk cube of the Wind Runester. One might ask those things, Rebeke.’

Rebeke sighed gently. ‘Why would I waste time with questions when the answers are before me? Would you pretend, Dresh, that betrayal is a new experience for me?

‘Rise, false one. Look on the Windmistress you have slain, and reflect what thy portion shall be.’

Grielea rose nonchalantly. Her narrow hands rose to smooth the forehead band of her cowl. Her small mouth smiled coldly at Rebeke. ‘You dare not slay me, Rebeke. I am high in the favor of the Council.’

Rebeke laughed. It was a short laugh and she choked on it. Her eyes fell to Medie. They shone brightly when once more they rose to meet Grielea’s. ‘The Council’s favor? Tell me instead of the sun’s coolness. A favor indeed they have granted you, to send you here on a fool’s errand. A knife such as you cuts two ways, Grielea. It has no handle. It is never safe, especially to the hand that holds it. Did you think they would allow you to live, after they had taught you and used you? They do not expect to have to dispose of you. They know I will do that, and, in that act, seal my own fate. But I shall not play into their hands that way. I have my own methods for dealing with such as you.’

Ki saw Grielea’s eyes go wide. Her glance ricocheted from Rebeke to Dresh, and back again.

Rebeke sighed. ‘Grielea. Look here.’

Rebeke’s narrow fingers cut a sign in the air. For a minute the flowing blue rune seemed to hang there, visible to Ki through Dresh’s eyes. Grielea stared at it. And continued to stare, even after it had faded from Ki’s sight.

‘That will keep her occupied while I look to you. It was clever of you, merging your aura with the teamster’s. Who would ever have suspected her of having one? The puzzle of it kept me long at the pool. Long enough for Medie to die, Dresh.’ A sudden huskiness muted her trained voice. ‘Dresh, Dresh.’ She coughed. Her proud shoulders dropped. ‘Why have you put this upon me?’

‘I put this upon you? You made the choice for both of us, Rebeke! Did I drape you in robes of blue, cowl you with the high cowl of the Windsingers, poison your body with their essence to scale your face? Did I make you both more and less than Human woman?’

‘No!’ flashed Rebeke. ‘I did those things for myself! You would have made me a wizard’s wench. I could have watched from a darkened corner as you conjured the powers of the earth, and applauded your successes. You would have given me balms to keep the youth upon my face. I would still be a pretty toy for you to while away your spare moments.’

‘And that would be so much worse than to wear the scales of a Singer, and be the toy of the High Council, Rebeke?’

Ki let out a silent, shuddering breath. This strange give and take between Rebeke and Dresh was fearsome enough in a blasphemous way. But there was more to fear in this room than they. With an effort of will, Ki forced her own eyes to open. She panned them over the alien scene, trying to reconcile it with what Dresh’s eyes had shown her.

‘The High Council is not the ideal, Dresh. That I will admit. I will even whisper to you that they have corrupted the destiny of the Windsingers. But it shall be put back onto its course, by ones such as I. And I believe that is a worthier goal than for me to primp and paint myself so as to retain your favors.’

Ki glanced down at her hands. But all she saw was the infinite void of the cube that was Dresh, supported by pale white strings. Her own hands in this dimension, Ki suspected. From the cube emanated a voice, or perhaps only a stream of thoughts.

‘You give me so little credit, Rebeke. You speak as if it were only your body I loved. Your flesh could fade, could take on the forms of age, as is only seemly. And still, I would have loved … as still, perhaps, I do.’

Silence drenched them all. Ki’s eyes wandered. She fixed on a pale tower, oddly familiar. Grielea, she surmised. Yes, there were the twin red sparks of her eyes. And did those sparks shift, did they dance toward Ki’s own gaze? It was impossible. Rebeke had frozen her with a windrune. But it seemed to Ki that the tower did move, that it ventured toward the circle that Dresh had drawn, taking impossibly small steps, but advancing, none the less.

‘Perhaps?’ The sharp note in Rebeke’s voice shattered the stillness, jarred Ki so that Dresh’s vision once more snapped into her mind. ‘Perhaps! Do you throw that word to me as you throw a bone to a hungry dog, Dresh? Or do you just try to make my task more difficult for me? Medie is lost to me, Dresh. I shall miss her strength sorely. Deprived of it, I have all the more need of the powers you have gathered. I have a goal. Left to myself, I would never harm you. I shall not bandy words with you, nor leave you to guess. I still have feelings for you. But should I let them interfere with my chance to realign the Windsingers with their proper goal? Shall I let such a chance slip away by letting you seduce me with conversation? No! If I must do it, I shall do it as hastily as possible. Why draw out our mutual torment …’

With a physical wrench, Ki turned Dresh’s eyes in the direction of Grielea. She had moved! She stood within the circle, a smile of triumph on her face. Her hand was raised and death sparkled on her fingertips; her target was Rebeke!

The next move was Ki’s, done with a swiftness that surpassed Dresh’s skill to command her. With the strength that is born of terror, she hurled the blue egg at Grielea’s head.

Dresh’s cry of warning to Rebeke changed to one of horror as the egg met Grielea’s cowled head. It passed through her face and skull like an arrow piercing overripe fruit. Bits of flesh and splinters of bone seemed to hang in the air before Ki’s astounded eyes. Then the egg met the wall behind Grielea’s slumping body. The wall vanished in an echoing roar of blue flame.

Grielea’s lifeless body tumbled out of the hole in the wall, falling away from them into the void outside the punctured room. Even as Ki watched Grielea flopping away like a spoiled doll hurled down a well, she felt herself whirled toward the void. An unmerciful wind swept her up, and Dresh’s torso came flailing along with her. She felt nausea sweep over her as the body seized her in a clumsy embrace. The hands were clinging to one of the body’s legs. Dresh’s head remained in her arms as they were swept out into darkness.

Ki retained one last image of Rebeke staring after them in wonder mixed with agony. Then the walls of the punctured room healed up behind them. Rebeke was lost to her sight. Together Ki and Dresh tumbled through the emptiness about them. She realized that she was no longer breathing, but it was only a passing disturbance in the drowsiness of her thoughts. She had had this dream before. There were the points of light again. Once more her hair stirred faintly against her face though she felt no breeze on her skin. She felt no panic, not even an interest in her situation. She drifted through an infinite void, a wizard’s head clutched in her arms, a wizard’s body embracing hers. The future did not worry her. She had no past to give it perspective, no present to consider it from. She was content to drift effortlessly, unbreathing, unthinking, unbeing. The head in her arms struggled with her mind, trying to impose its worries on her clean soul. Ki would have none of that. She let all her thoughts unravel as quickly as he knit them. She turned her mind to silence.