Alysana
Kethras had been pacing the length of the room for quite some time now, and it was making Alysana nervous; he looked like a hunter stalking prey.
“Kethras,” she said softly, “can you stop that?”
His eyes met hers, but he did not stop his pacing. “Stop what?” His padded footfalls scarcely made any noise in the dark, cramped room.
“The moving back and forth. It is . . . unsettling.”
Kethras, seeming to suddenly become aware of his behavior, came to a stop and dipped his head. “Ah,” he said, “I apologize. It was mindless wandering; I relinquish the reins to my body when my mind is otherwise occupied.”
Alysana knew what he meant: during her training, she often found herself idly playing with the dagger she’d been given, as a way of letting her mind drift off. It was soothing to her. She felt her hand moving toward it now, as her thoughts began to stray. Then the realization caught her like a sudden splash of cold water: the three of them had been gone for quite some time. Should she be worried? Just as she started to say something about it to Kethras, the Kienari’s ears perked up.
“I hear them,” he announced. “They have returned.”
***
Elyasha looked woozy but awake. Thornton looked a little pale as he sat gripping his hammer. Rathma, on the other hand, looked as stoic as ever.
What had happened at the Healer’s?
“Did you find out what you needed to?” Alysana asked.
Rathma nodded gravely. “He told us what we can expect.” With a nod to Thornton, he added, “And a little more.”
The words didn’t seem to register to Thornton, who was idly tracing the grooves carved into his hammer’s handle.
“When do we begin preparation?”
“Now,” Rathma answered. “Silus has already started.”
“So he is able to prepare a Vessel after all?”
“Yes.”
Alysana noticed that the Farstepper’s answers were short and abrupt. He had volunteered to be a Vessel, but she wondered if something Silus had said was making him have second thoughts. She walked over to him and sat down.
“Is something bothering you, Rathma?” she asked.
For the first time since they had met, Rathma looked at her—really looked at her. His expression was one of relief, as though she had offered to shoulder a burden that he had been carrying for years.
“Yes.”
Alysana shifted uncomfortably. She hesitated and then sat down next to Rathma, lightly touching his shoulder. “What is wrong?”
“I thought I would be ready,” he confessed. “After my brother left, I was taught that the responsibility would fall to me, but that always seemed like a far-off concept—like dying or . . . marriage.” The last word caught in his throat as he averted his gaze. He coughed, and continued: “I never thought I would actually need to become a Vessel. It was never supposed to be me. It was supposed to be my brother, Jinda.”
Alysana’s jaw hung open. She looked at the red hair and eyes that all Farsteppers shared and wondered how she hadn’t seen it sooner. In retrospect, it seemed so obvious.
“Jinda? You brother . . . is Jinda?” she stammered.
“Yes. You know him?”
Alysana blinked away her surprise and nodded.
“He is the eldest. Our bloodline, my mother always told us, can be traced back to the Traveler himself. Even our family name, Yhun, means ‘son of Yho.’ Whether or not we actually are is not for me to say . . .” Looking down at his hands, he spoke as if his mind were a thousand miles away. “I never thought about why he left until tonight.”
Alysana was at a loss for words. She wanted to say that Jinda must have had a good reason for leaving, or that it was all for the best, but she wasn’t sure even she believed either one of those things. Before she could gather her words, though, there was a knock on their door. Alysana stood up and opened it. Facing her was none other than the old Athrani healer, Silus.
“We are ready,” he said. His face was solemn, and Alysana was sure that if he could have seen, he would have been looking right at Rathma.
Rathma stood up and forced a smile. “Then let’s get this over with,” he said. “I have a body to surrender.”