24 24 “CAN YOU HEAR me?” I farsent.
“Loud and clear,” Duria responded. Aras and I had ridden through the mountain pass in order to reach him in Guanette. I had a fleeting vision of the far seeker staring into a fire. Focusing on flames or water always helped steady a farseeking probe. I could sense people moving around him and talking, but they were mere shadows to my perceptions.
“Rebels,” Duria explained with a dryness that told me more than words how it was among Malik’s people.
“Where is Gevan?” I settled myself more comfortably on the blanket Aras had laid out.
“With Malik.” There was a clear sensation of distaste. “Explaining that there are no traitors among his people. It’s not surprising, for they are far too afraid to betray him. Tonight he will let his people know the full plan, or as much of it as he deems they need to know.”
“How is Lirra bearing up?”
“Not too well. She said Malik stinks of ill will, but when I spoke of the decoy and reminded him that no soldierguards were to be harmed by his people, he agreed, and Lirra didn’t get any sense that he lied. She says he is wary of the other rebels turning against him, though. Every time a message comes, he emanates distrust. I’m not sure how long she can bear being here. The fear of Malik’s men for their leader is almost as hard for her to tolerate as his loathing of us.”
“Have you managed to connect with Ceirwan yet?” I asked.
“Yes. If you like, I can link with him now, and you can go through me to speak to him yourself.”
“Let’s try,” I sent.
The Farseeker guilden had been sent to establish a camp in the Brown Haw Rises, because the distance between Guanette and Sawlney could not be broached in a single farseeking leap, given that the Gelfort Range lay between them. Without Ceirwan to connect them, Duria and Wila would have had to ride toward one another to exchange information. It had been decided that, as well as speeding up the time it took for messages to reach us, a halfway camp would be a useful rallying point for Miryum’s decoy team.
The camp was set up well back into the Rises to avoid being visible from the main road. So far, only Ceirwan, Freya, two other farseekers, and a healer were in the camp. On the morrow, Miryum and her remaining knights would join them.
Duria bade me hold myself ready while he formed the necessary link with Ceirwan and made himself properly passive. When I sensed his readiness, I allowed myself to slide along the link he had established with the guilden.
“Ceirwan?” I sent tentatively, for we had only ever tried this separated by short distances.
“Elspeth!” Ceirwan sent in excitement; then he quickly damped down his elation, for he knew well that too much emotion would shatter the delicate connection. I could sense that it was no easy matter to communicate with me while retaining his link with Duria.
“How is it there?” I sent simply.
“It’s beautiful here,” Ceirwan sent, but the brief picture I received from his thoughts was of Freya. I smiled and asked if he had made contact with Wila.
“Just a little while ago. She says the empath there is having the same sort of trouble with Brocade and his people that Lirra is having among Malik’s. The worst of it is that the rebels seem to know they’re hurting the boy, and it just spurs them on.”
I was careful to remain cool, but it was a struggle. “Tell Wila … Better still, can you hold on to Duria and make the same sort of whiplash connection with her, so that I can talk to her directly?”
Ceirwan sent regretfully, “Th’ others have gone to get water at a spring a ways back. I’d have to wait ’til they’re back, so I can use their energy.”
“Perhaps I can help,” I said, and bade him try to make the connection. He did so doubtfully, but as he threw out his mental spar, I allowed some of my own energy to infuse the link. I felt Ceirwan’s mind connect and slipped my probe down his to Wila.
“Greetings, Guildmistress,” Wila sent. Her mind was full of distortions and interference, and I exerted more of my own energy before instructing her to tell Brocade that the Misfit team assisting his people would be withdrawn if he did not prevent his men from tormenting the empath.
“Thank you,” Wila sent. “Poor little Feay is beside himself, and Harwood is about to break his knightly vows to give these men a taste of their own medicine.”
“If it does not stop immediately, the three of you will leave. Warn Brocade once, then do it. Any sign of traitors there?”
“None so far as Harwood or I can find,” Wila sent.
“Have you had a chance to scry out any of the priests?”
“No,” she sent, sounding frustrated. “The cloister here is all but empty. Most of the Herders have gone off to some sort of religious ceremony in Sutrium. It is a pity, because this would have been the perfect opportunity to further investigate the Faction.”
It seemed too much of a coincidence that the Faction should have a religious ceremony right when the rebels were on the verge of rising. More likely the Herders knew something of what was to come and were absenting themselves strategically. Quite likely they even knew who the rebel traitor was. On the other hand, why choose to congregate in Sutrium, which was likely to be the center of the strife? I asked Wila to find out what Zarak and the rest of the team in Sutrium knew of the Herder ceremony there.
“Tomash farsent me from Kinraide,” Wila continued. “He scried out a traitor in Elii’s group—a woman who was thinking of betraying them for money. She was taken prisoner, though Tomash argued against it, saying it was no crime to think about betrayal as long as you didn’t go through with it. But Elii said they couldn’t afford to take the risk.”
I frowned. The traitors we were looking for were not merely contemplating betrayal. “Try to link with Khuria,” I sent. “I will feed you energy.”
“I’ll try,” she responded. When it anchored, I slid along Wila’s probe to Khuria.
“Greetings, Guildmistress,” came very faintly. The slight echoing effect told me the older beastspeaker was linked into a small traditional merge, drawing power from the young farseeker who had gone with him.
“Any traitors found?” I sent quickly.
“None here …” The voice faded. “… Zarak …”
“I’m not getting you. Try again,” I sent.
“Zarak contacted me … No traitors found there yet, but …”
I realized Zarak’s father was at the end of his strength, even drawing on a merge. I sent thanks and drew back to Wila.
“I’m sorry,” she sent, sounding exhausted. “It’s hard to hold a two-way distance link.”
“You’ve done well,” I sent. Without warning, Duria’s link dissolved and my mindprobe was wrenched back into me with painful force.
“Are you all right?” Aras asked anxiously.
My head was pounding with the worst imaginable headache, and everything around me wavered alarmingly. “I … I’m all right,” I stammered, the words enough to set my teeth aching. I closed my eyes and erected a block to catch the pain I was feeling, knowing I could not possibly ride in such a state.
Back at Obernewtyn, I went to the Healer hall to have Kella draw off the pain that had accumulated during the whiplash link. Too much was at stake for me to take the time to let myself recover naturally.
“That was severe,” she commented when she was finished. “What happened?” I told her, thinking she looked better than she had on her return from the lowlands. I had argued against her being immediately swept into her guild’s preparation of full herbal kits for those healers traveling away, but Roland had assured me it was best for her to be active. It seemed he was right.
“I’ll come with you tomorrow when you farseek,” Kella murmured. “That way I can drain off any pain as it accumulates.”
“I’m just going down to the Brown Haw Rises, and I’ll be farseeking any group I can reach from there. Hopefully I won’t need you this time.”
“Somebody else might. Those soldierguards you mean to lure into Malik’s trap, for instance. I would not trust him to keep his word to leave them unharmed,” Kella responded darkly.
Angina came out of Dragon’s room. “I thought I heard you out here, Elspeth. Did you farsend to Duria?”
“Lirra is fine,” I said. “But I think being close to Malik is taking a severe toll on her. Duria seems to think she might not last out. What do you think? If all goes according to plan, she’ll only be there another night and day. The battle will shift down to the lowlands, and she can return to Obernewtyn.”
“Miky and I would like to ride with you tomorrow as part of the decoy operation. It won’t be so bad leaving Dragon alone for a night if you’re away, and if Lirra is too exhausted, one of us can fill in for her. Apart from all else, we need a break.”
“Very well,” I said, suspecting the twins disliked sending out their guild members while they remained safely at Obernewtyn.
I made myself go into Dragon’s chamber then. She lay as beautiful and motionless as ever, and useless tears pricked my eyes.
“Elspeth?” Aras murmured apologetically at my elbow. “We had better go to the farms. The beastmerge is due to begin.”
I let her draw me away, feeling guilty, because at some level, I was always glad to leave Dragon’s sick room. As we hurried along the halls, Aras questioned me about what had happened with Duria.
“I can feed more energy if you start in my mind and let me link with Duria,” she offered. “And I can organize a team to act as an energy source. That way, as long as the others can form the whiplash linkups, we can feed them whatever energy they need.”
I smiled at her enthusiasm. “Remember when you first told me about this idea? I little knew how valuable it would come to be.”
She smiled. “I am glad to see it works.”
“Works! Without it, we would be forced to use an old-fashioned relay of messages. This is almost miraculously swift.”
“It is hard to believe that this afternoon your mind went all the way from the highlands almost to Sutrium,” she admitted, beaming. “It’s a pity about the Suggredoon or eventually we could go right to Murmroth.”
“Having someone travel back and forth on the ferry will not cause too much of a delay. Tomorrow we will see if Zarak has heard anything from the west coast. I won’t stop feeling anxious until I have heard from all the teams.”
That night, I dreamed of Cassy again. She was with the Tiban rebel who had gone with her to the library.
“You did what?” he demanded, stopping and staring at her. They were in some sort of park.
“I got a tattoo,” Cassy said flatly, continuing to walk.
He hurried to catch up to her. “You know this won’t just wash off when you’re sick of it, Cass. You’ll get bored with it in a few years.…”
“I want it to be indelible, and I won’t get bored with it,” Cassy said, pushing her hands deep into her coat pockets. “It’s a symbol of a promise I made.”
“To that crazy woman?”
“You know every nutcase swilling synthetic metho in the street prophesies doom and the imminent end of the world.”
“Maybe they’re right,” Cassy snapped.
The young man sighed. “Don’t let’s talk about doom when tomorrow—”
Cassy gave a groan and leaned into his chest. “I swear, every time they send you in, my heart dies a little bit. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”
“Nothing will happen. Any more than the world will end no matter what your precious Hannah says she foresees.…”
My shock was so great that the dream dissolved, and I woke. It was still deep night, and the fire was alight.
Knowing I needed my strength for the next day, I tried going back to sleep, but hearing that name was too jarring, for it told me that Cassy had contacted Hannah Seraphim. Even more stunning was the dream’s implication that Hannah had foreseen the Great White, for what else had that been but the end of her world?
I blinked, struck by a queer thought.
One part of Kasanda’s message had bade me seek a woman who had first foreseen the darkness that would come. Was it remotely possible that this referred to Hannah Seraphim? Or was I forcing impossible connections? After all, there must have been other futuretellers back then, and who was to say that Hannah had been the first to see what would come? And in any case, if she was, how on earth was I supposed to seek a woman so long dead?
Unless that was what the message meant. Go where that woman’s body lay. Her grave.
My mind skipped sideways, and I thought of the crumbled cairn the teknoguilders had found. Jacob Obernewtyn’s grave. Where, then, was Hannah Seraphim laid to rest?
There was a strange poetry in the thought that part of the key to saving the world from a second Great White lay with a woman who had foreseen the first. Certainly there were some tenuous connections between Kasanda and Hannah. The doors to Obernewtyn, for instance …
“Sleep,” Maruman sent crossly.
“I’m sorry I woke you,” I sent back.
“Too late to be sorry,” the old cat grumbled. “Shortsleep is like young mouse to old feline. Hard to catch.”
“I’m sorry,” I sent again, feeling an ache of love for the battered cat. His mind had grown clearer, but he was little inclined to communicate these days. I stroked him tentatively, and for once he did not object. Soon he was snoring softly, and I drifted back to sleep, too, wondering what promise Cassy had made to Hannah.
The following day passed all too slowly, for none of us could concentrate on anything but the rebellion, which would begin that very night.
Far from being nervous, I was only too glad when it was time to ride down to Ceirwan’s camp. Aras, Kella, Roland, Miky, and Angina were also mounted up and attired as gypsies, as were several beastspeakers with empathic or coercive secondary abilities. Lina and another group had ridden down earlier in the day. We had been wary of advertising our presence in the high mountains, and small groups were less remarkable than large ones. Malik had been told that we intended to gather near the soldierguard encampment from all over the Land. Under no circumstances must he learn that we dwelt at Obernewtyn.
We rode steadily, and passing Guanette, I farsent Duria to let Malik know we would be in position to make our move at midnight as planned. “Has he told you exactly where we are to bring the soldierguards?”
“He has, but there is no need for me to explain, because I will be in place with him, so you can use me as a guiding focus. The location of the ambush is perfect—a cul-de-sac with steep sides and a single narrow entrance. Whatever else Malik may be, he’s a strategist,” Duria added with grudging admiration. “I don’t think anyone will even have to fire an arrow, because once inside, the soldierguards will see immediately that they have ridden into a trap. Malik will step out of cover with all his men and announce that no one will be harmed if they surrender, and that should be that.”
“It sounds too simple,” I sent.
“Simple plans are best,” Duria sent so confidently that my own fears were somewhat allayed. “Oh, I wanted to apologize for letting go so suddenly yesterday.…”
“There is no need,” I cut him off. “I didn’t suppose you did it on purpose. How is Lirra bearing up?”
“We’ve sent her back to Obernewtyn. It was too cruel to keep her here any longer.”
I relayed this to Miky and Angina who, after a swift consultation, decided Miky would ride to Guanette to replace the younger empath. I sent as much to Duria, who was obviously relieved. “I don’t like that we can’t gauge Malik’s mind at all with Lirra gone,” he admitted. “I told him no traitors had been located this side of the Suggredoon so far, and he’s already ranting that they must be in the west coast groups. But from what Zarak said yesterday, I don’t know.”
“You’ve heard from him?” I asked.
“I got word from Wila this morning. The only lot who haven’t reported yet are in Murmroth. I decided not to pass this on to Malik, because he’s bound to turn around and start accusing us of incompetence.”
“I wouldn’t give him any information outside the necessary. But it’s odd news, just the same.”
“Of course, every rebel hasn’t been tested, because some of them are out in the field,” Duria stressed. “But they won’t be in a position to hamper tonight’s activities.”
“Let’s hope,” I sent.
“I will ride with Malik until his people reach Sutrium, if you don’t object. He repels me, but watching him is like watching one of those deadly spiders they have on Norseland. It’s horrible, but it’s fascinating as well. He never uses reason where he can use fear or intimidation instead. What makes such a man?”
“Who can know? How is Gevan?”
“Pretty much as I am. He wants me to stay with the rebel group who will take over the Guanette cloister. Malik is leading another group on to the Darthnor cloister, because Lydi’s people may need the support. Gevan will be going with them. The plan is that we must take over the cloisters and be back here ready to ride to the White Valley well before midnight.”
“Farsend when you’re on the verge of leaving for the Valley. And be careful,” I sent seriously.
Several hours later, we went down the little-used track that ran between Berryn Mor and the Rises from the main road to the coast. When we had gone far enough to ensure we would not be seen ascending the slopes of the Brown Haw Rises, we set a course for the camp. Ceirwan and the others had erected a small series of canvas huts patterned after the nomadic dwellings that the Sadorians called tents. Though constructed of waxed cloth and hollow poles lashed temporarily together, they were surprisingly good protection against the weather, in addition to being light and easy to carry.
Ceirwan was preparing an evening meal when we rode up. Before long, we were all eating and talking about the coming night, the horses clustered nearby grazing and communing with the beastspeakers. Miryum and her coercer-knights had arrived, the guilden said, but they had ridden out almost at once to station themselves close to the soldierguard encampment. Miryum wanted to scry out its inhabitants and gain a working knowledge of the daily operation of the establishment. Only then had they carefully constructed, within the minds of key figures within the camp, the illusion that a small band of soldierguards had taken Henry Druid prisoner in a brilliant coup. The soldierguard captains believed a daring rescue attempt would be made by some of the Druid’s men. They had been convinced coercively that this escape must be allowed so that the soldierguards could learn the whereabouts of the Druid’s secret camp in the high mountains.
It was a meshing of rumors set in motion by Malik’s people and pure coerced illusion, and it played hard upon the ambition of the head soldierguard to become a Councilman. He reasoned that capture of the notorious Henry Druid would make him famous, but the taking of him and all his followers would be a success so spectacular as to make it impossible for the Council to refuse to make him one of them. Whether or not this was true, he believed it, thanks to Miryum’s manipulations. The main problem was convincing the soldierguards that they had Henry Druid in a cell within the camp. The capture and all else could be built of implanted memories, but Miryum had had to create a physical illusion of Henry Druid in the minds of anyone who looked into the cell where he was supposedly being held. For this reason, she had made the soldierguard captains decide to keep their infamous prisoner a secret from the majority of their people for the sake of security. This ensured that only the few entrusted to guard the empty cell would need to be constantly coerced into seeing what did not exist.
The part the rest of us were to play was ludicrously simple. At some point around midnight, upon a signal from Miryum, we were to erupt from concealment in the forest nearby the encampment and ride wildly up into the high country. Miryum and her team would ensure the soldierguard force followed us.
Since they could not coerce all the soldierguards individually and constantly, the knights intended to focus on the leaders, both formal and informal. Being soldierguards, the majority would obey their superiors without question, but because there were always men and women who were less slavishly obedient, the coercers had spent a lot of energy locating them and tampering with their minds as well. It was a plan that relied less on brilliant mental strategy and subtlety than on the sheer ability of Miryum and her coercers to control minds. It struck me rather as one of the card houses that moon-fair conjurers liked to construct, but I trusted Miryum’s abilities and her determination. Those, at least, were no illusion.
“They’ll be so full of the hunger to win glory an’ a fat coin bonus that they won’t wonder why we would allow ourselves to be followed back to our secret camp,” Ceirwan said.
“Bonus?” I echoed blankly.
“Miryum means to plant th’ notion at th’ last minute that there is a large reward fer each armsman’s brought in,” the guilden explained. “Greed really is a good emotion to work on, because it almost entirely overcomes the ability to think clearly.”
“Making sure their greed does not find a target will take a terrific lot of energy. We won’t be able to stop them shooting at us forever,” Angina warned.
“We won’t need to,” one of the beastspeakers said eagerly. “We’ll be out of their reach for most of the ride, and once we get them to the ambush point, their minds will be on other things.”
Ceirwan stiffened and looked at me. “It’s Wila, Elspeth. She’s ready to link ye to th’ others.”
I nodded, and we moved a little aside from the fire as Aras arranged her team into a simple merge. When Ceirwan had established contact with Wila, the young ward connected the two merges with her own probe. I waited until they were all securely engaged, then sent my probe smoothly along the path to Wila.
“You are so clear!” the older farseeker exclaimed in a startled mindvoice. “It’s like someone is pouring energy into me.”
“That’s exactly what’s happening, but let’s not waste any time just now on explanations. Can you try linking with Khuria?”
The connection was established, and as with Wila, Khuria’s surprise shivered it dangerously, but he quickly collected himself. I asked him how matters were proceeding in Saithwold. He explained that Vos had decided to secure Councilman Noviny’s holding before taking over the cloister.
“I was there last night, scrying to see if there was any sort of alert,” Khuria sent. “It seemed a very peaceful place to me. The servants and bondservants and even the animals are content with their master. I had a brief look into Noviny’s mind, and to tell you the truth, I like him somewhat better than Vos.”
“He is a better man, by all accounts, and that’s all the more reason to make sure no one gets hurt. You might remind Vos that he will have trouble afterward if he hurts someone as well liked as Noviny.”
Khuria agreed. “I have been in touch with Zarak, by the way,” he added. “He wants to speak with you. Maybe you can try going through me?”
The merge felt strong and stable with Aras’s input, so I concurred. I felt him link with Zarak, and at once the Farseeker ward responded. “I’m glad to hear from you,” he sent.
“It’s an amazing thing that you and Aras have done,” I sent. “I hear you’ve scried out no traitors in Sutrium?”
“Not a one so far, though a few of Bodera’s people seem to have considered pulling out from time to time, and a number of them are secretly in favor of Malik’s hard line. But I suspect you’d find a few of Malik’s people preferring Bodera’s ideas, too. I told Brydda, but he said that other than outright traitors, he was not interested in knowing people’s doubts. He said they have a right to doubt and question in the privacy of their own minds. He wanted me to tell him who is most firm in their support of Bodera and who is most trustworthy and faithful. They’re the only ones he’s told the whole plan.”
“He was ever a canny man,” I sent in admiration. “You’ve been in contact with the west?”
“I have, and everyone’s in place. The teknoguilders have found all sorts of subterranean tunnels. It seems like what you see aboveground is only the tip of the city. Anyway, the good thing is that they haven’t had to set up on the surface, so there’s almost no chance of their being spotted. Dragon’s illusions all that time ago still keep folk from poking around.”
I thought of Dragon with a stab of pain and wondered if it would not have been better if she were still there now, rather than comatose in the Healer hall.
Zarak went on. “The only problem is that someone always has to be aboveground in case anyone tries to reach them. Oh, they said Dell has been dreaming of treachery, but she doesn’t know to whom or what.”
“Helpful,” I sent tersely.
“She said she’s trying her best.”
“I know, but it is frustrating to be given such vague warnings.”
“Dell said to say this is specifically to do with the west coast. She dreamed of treachery when she was at Obernewtyn, like a lot of the other futuretellers, but she says that it’s different here. She thinks it is another matter entirely.”
“Treachery on two fronts. That is troubling, but I suppose given the number of people involved in this rebellion, it’s not surprising. Speaking of which, did any of the west coast people scry out traitors?”
“One or two apparently, but no one really important. They don’t account for the kind of information that was leaked out. Some of us are starting to think that, without a highly placed traitor, the only way the Council can have got hold of some of the things they know was to have had a Misfit working for them.”
I felt my mouth drop open. “A Misfit traitor?”
“I hate to think any of our sort would help our enemies, but it makes a sort of sense.”
Little as I liked contemplating it, he was right.
“I told Brydda, and he’s going to try to get some of those demon bands for his key men and women to wear, just in case. But if the Council already know what we’ve got brewing for tonight, there’ll be no helping us.”
“I doubt they know that,” I sent. “Not one of the futuretellers has foreseen the rebellion failing.”
“Truespoken. Anyway, Radost doesn’t know the rebellion begins tonight. He has a demon band, but he doesn’t really believe in it, so he doesn’t always keep it on or properly fastened. He knows the rebels plan to rise soon, but he has no idea when.”
I frowned. “Maybe we should try backtracking the source of the information he does have.”
“We’ve tried, but it didn’t make sense. Some of the information that ruined one rebel operation supposedly came to Radost from Kana of Halfmoon Bay, who supposedly got it from Rorah of Morganna. But when I checked with the farseekers there, both Rorah and Kana think the same information came from Radost. It’s as if whoever is feeding them intelligence wants to stay hidden.”
“Maybe it’s the Herders,” I mused. “Far more likely they’d be using a Misfit, given their interest in them, and this sly secrecy smells like them, too. And they must be worried about what will happen to them if the Land falls from Council hands.”
“Speaking of the Faction, today I tried scrying out the Sutrium cloister to discover something about this ceremony they have been having. The walls around it seem to be tainted like those demon bands, so it’s impossible to farseek through them. But at midday there was a huge parade as the priests escorted some important visitors from Herder Isle back to the ships. I managed to get into the minds of some priests, but anyone with rank was wearing one of those demon bands.”
“Hmph. Did you get any idea what the ceremony is for?”
“It’s their annual banding ceremony. Brydda says they don’t usually draw so many priests from all over the Land, and normally only one of the inner cadre comes from Herder Isle to officiate. He reckons it’s bigger because someone has been promoted to the inner cadre. That only happens when someone dies and his place becomes vacant.”
“You didn’t get any inkling that they know what is brewing among the rebels?”
“Everyone I probed was thinking only of who had been raised a band and who had been demoted.”
“If Brydda’s not bothered, I guess that’s good enough,” I sent. “Tell him I will farsend as soon as the decoy operation is complete. Ceirwan will stay here with Freya so that I can go through him to reach you in Sutrium.”
“I’ll be ready,” Zarak sent.
Thanking Khuria, I withdrew gently to Wila, asking her how matters stood with Brocade’s people.
“Pretty much the same as the others. Brocade means to take Jude’s and Alum’s holdings before he tackles the cloister. We’ll move on the two farms after dark, because they’ll be relaxing and unlikely to leap up and start waving a knife or bludgeon around.”
“I’m gratified to hear that Brocade is trying to avoid blood,” I sent.
“Don’t be. He just doesn’t want to risk his own neck. He’s a coward, and he’d much rather run things from a pile of cushions in his own holding, but he can see that he has to make some sort of masterly display if he wants to be taken seriously as a leader.”
“You seem to have matters well in hand. Can you link with Tomash?”
Mindful of her fatigue, I did not communicate longer than necessary to assure myself that Tomash and the other two sent to Kinraide had been well received by Elii. Unlike most of the rebels, he treated the Misfits assigned to him as trusted allies rather than loathed tools. Elii had mustered his own people, and as soon as it grew dark enough, they intended to make their way up to the Weirwood. There they would rendezvous with the Berrioc group to storm the soldierguard encampment after we had lured the majority of its forces away.
By the time Malik rode down with the soldierguards as his prisoners, the barracks should have been transformed into a prison, which some of Elii’s people would oversee until the rebellion ended.
I broke contact first with Tomash and then with Wila, to the older woman’s clear relief.
“She is doing well considering she finds it hard to hold a dual link,” Aras said as I came back to myself.
The ward dismissed her own now weary team with lavish praise, and they went off at her behest to eat and rest. I ate a bit of bread and cheese smeared with a tart chutney Katlyn had sent; then Ceirwan suggested sensibly that we all try to get some sleep, given that we were unlikely to get much of a break once everything began.
I felt too overwrought to sleep, and it was still too light, but I lay down on a blanket anyway and pulled my coat over me. The sooner the rebellion was under way, the sooner I could devote myself entirely to finding Rushton.
Thinking of him filled me with a bitter loneliness, for despite Maryon’s certainty that Rushton lived, not once had she mentioned seeing him return.