“Not even if we thought either was possible. We might kill all of the White, but the gods would soon find replacements.”
“So you believe the Circlian gods are real?” Imenja asked.
Mirar smiled ruefully. “I know it. A reliable source of mine assures me yours are too.”
The Voices looked at each other, each glance swift and meaningful.
“If we defeated the White,” Vervel said. “If all Circlians became Pentadrians, the Circlian gods would not find anyone willing to take the place of the White.”
“Ah, if only that were true!” Mirar sighed. “Unfortunately it would require every single Circlian to willingly reject their gods and convert to yours.”
“They might, in time,” Shar said. “Of course, there would be followers of the Circle meeting in secret, rebels and such. We would have to hunt them down and—”
“The point is, with us in control, your people would be free to live as they pleased,” Vervel interrupted. “Surely that is worth bending a few rules for?”
Mirar shook his head. “The trouble is, it is not some minor rule, but our primary law and principle.”
“But they tried to kill you,” Genza reminded him.
Mirar met the woman’s gaze. “And your people arranged for Dreamweavers in Jarime to be murdered so that Priests would be blamed.”
Genza’s eyes narrowed slightly, then she turned to look at Imenja.
“I guess we are lucky that your people don’t take sides,” Imenja said quietly. “Rest assured that not all of us were in favor of that sordid little scheme.” He noticed that the woman’s Companion was staring at her mistress, radiating suspicion and horror. “We do not intend to repeat that mistake. However, I’m sure the White would attempt to kill you again, if they could.”
Mirar laughed darkly. “I know. They’ve already tried.”
Imenja’s eyes brightened with interest. “Recently? Is that why you came to Southern Ithania?”
“Yes. And now I find the very woman they sent to execute me is here, being treated as an honored guest.”
He noted which faces betrayed surprise and which did not. Imenja was smiling.
“You know Auraya’s here?” Genza asked. “And you still came?”
Mirar shrugged. “Of course I know. The city is full of gossip - and Dreamweavers.”
Imenja chuckled. “And Nekaun has hardly kept her a secret.” She looked at Mirar and sobered. “You’re in no danger. We will not allow her to harm you. And it seems we need not fear you will harm her.” She watched him closely, probably looking for signs that he might make an exception to his rule against violence. “In a week she will be gone.”
Mirar nodded.
“There is no need for you two to meet. Perhaps you would prefer to avoid her,” she continued. He sensed disappointment from the Companions and resisted a smile. Clearly they were curious to see what might happen if he and Auraya encountered one another.
As am I, he thought. To know she is this close and not see her once... Surely there would be no harm in meeting.
“I don’t care,” he said. “In fact, it would be satisfying to let her see me, alive and well treated by her enemy.”
Imenja chuckled again. “That, too, can be arranged.”
32
Dreamweaver Mirar is a good-looking man, Reivan thought as she watched him and Imenja stroll toward the Sanctuary flame. Not my type, though. He looks like a northerner, and there’s something else...
He reminded her of a Thinker she had once been infatuated with as a young woman. The Thinker he reminded her of had appeared at a meeting one day and charmed everybody. A few months later he vanished. In the following years he arrived and left unannounced numerous times. Every time he visited Glymma he found himself a different pretty girl, then discarded her. Reivan had felt jealous at first, then sympathy for the girls who had been promised so much but were left broken-hearted, sometimes burdened with an occupied womb.
Mirar had a confidence about him that drew people, and it was this that reminded her of the Thinker. He had the same restlessness in his gaze, as if he were always planning his next destination. Yet while the Thinker had moved whenever there was something to escape, she imagined Mirar simply drifted about, observing whatever he encountered, then drifted on.
He doesn’t hurry, she thought suddenly. That’s the difference. And why would he, when he’s immortal?
That was what most fascinated her. The Voices were immortal because the gods wanted them to be. Mirar had somehow achieved it without help. She itched to ask him how, even though she doubted she would understand the answer.
He and Imenja had been standing before the Sanctuary flame. Now they turned and walked back toward Reivan.
“... ever blown out?”
“A few times. We haven’t hidden the fact. People can be superstitious about such matters. They might think that if the flame went out the world would end, or something equally ridiculous, if we didn’t tell them it happens occasionally. As it is, they still try to find some significance to the few occurrences they know of.”
Mirar chuckled. “I imagine they do.” He looked up. “Is that a Siyee?”
Following his gaze, Reivan saw a winged figure circling upward.
“Yes,” Imenja said. “One of the group we are holding prisoner. They attacked one of our villages. Nekaun is letting them go, one by one, in exchange for Auraya staying here.”
Mirar nodded. “I heard about that. It is wise, letting them go separately. They can’t easily band together and attack again.”
“Yes.”
“You must be treating them well,” he added. “Or by now they would not be able to fly. Are you giving them supplies to get them home?”
“They can’t carry enough to last all the way to Si, unfortunately, but what we give them should sustain them until they reach Sennon.”
Imenja ushered him to the staircase that led down from the Sanctuary flame into the buildings below. Following them, Reivan heard voices coming from somewhere ahead in the corridor. Mirar and Imenja turned a corner and stopped. As she reached them, Reivan recognized the voices and a shiver ran over her skin. She looked at Mirar. His mouth was set in a smile. His eyes were bright - perhaps with fear, perhaps amusement.
Reivan looked at the object of his attention. Auraya stared back at Mirar through narrowed eyes. She stood very still, as if frozen. Nekaun gave Imenja a very direct look, then turned to Auraya and opened his mouth to speak - but he did not get a chance.
“Mirar,” Auraya said, her voice full of contempt. “I see you’ve arrived.”
“I have,” he replied, glancing at Imenja. “And received a warm reception.”
“I would expect nothing less of our hosts.”
Auraya’s gaze was intense, but Mirar did not flinch.
“I would have expected otherwise based on the rude reception I received in the north,” Mirar said airily. “But then I thought ‘it has to be better in the south, because it could hardly be worse.’ ”
Auraya smiled. “They just haven’t got to know you yet.”
Mirar’s smile faded slightly, and a small crease appeared between his brows.
“How are the Siyee faring these days?”
“Well,” Auraya said shortly.
“The White finding them useful allies?”
“Of course.”
“I hear their latest mission failed.”
“I’m afraid that’s old news here.”
“Yes,” Mirar agreed. “I suppose I have the White to thank for this opportunity to meet you again - under much more enjoyable circumstances, too.” He looked at Imenja. “I hope there will be time for us to converse again, before you leave. Perhaps over dinner?”
“It can be arranged,” Imenja replied mildly.
“Perhaps a quiet, private dinner,” Auraya said, her eyes gleaming. “Just the two of us. We could resume our previous conversation. Pick up again from where we stopped.”
“I�
��m sure my new friends would like the opportunity to join in,” Mirar replied. “Especially when you are leaving so soon. They have first claim on you, since your time here is finite and mine is not.”
Nekaun chuckled. “Dreamweaver Mirar is right. We still have much to show you, and your time here is fast dwindling.” He looked at Imenja. “Perhaps we can all meet at dinner tonight.”
“I’ll see to it,” she replied.
“Now, I have another trip outside the city to take you on.” Nekaun touched Auraya’s shoulder lightly and she tore her eyes from Mirar’s smug expression to look at the First Voice. “It will take half of the day to get there, so we should leave without delay.”
Mirar watched Auraya leave, his eyes narrowed, but as Imenja turned to him he looked at her and smiled broadly. She nodded at a corridor leading in another direction. “Would you like to see the Star Room, where we hold our ceremonies?”
He nodded. “Sounds fascinating.”
As they set off at a leisurely stroll, Reivan analyzed the conversation between Mirar and Auraya.
“I would have expected otherwise based on the rude reception I received in the north.”
“They just haven’t got to know you yet.”
Auraya won that exchange, Reivan mused. The former White had insinuated that Mirar made himself unwelcome wherever he went. She might have a point.
Mirar had made a veiled jibe about the White sending the Siyee on a doomed mission, but Auraya hadn’t appeared ruffled. Then Mirar had taunted her, pointing out that she could do nothing to him here.
“... Just the two of us. Pick up again from where we stopped.”
Reivan caught the chuckle that welled up inside her. Auraya won that exchange, too, she thought. She all but pointed out that his safety depended on us, and that she was willing to kill him if the Voices gave her the chance. But Mirar had the last word, I think. What did he say again?
“I’m sure my new friends would like the opportunity to join in... your time here is finite and mine is not.”
She frowned. Had Mirar guessed that the Voices didn’t intend to let Auraya leave? Or was he merely pointing out that the Voices had more reason to protect him than her, since he was immortal and would be a more useful ally in the long term?
He’s smart enough to have guessed the Voices’ plans, Reivan decided. Anyone who thought the situation through carefully could have.
But had Auraya?
Mischief leapt up onto the mattress. He spent a few minutes roaming about, assessing the best position to sleep according to merits only he understood. When he found a satisfactory place, he curled up and sighed.
Staring at the ceiling, Auraya considered what she had reported to Juran that evening. Or rather, what she hadn’t reported.
:Mirar is here, she had told him. We encountered each other in one of those accidental crossing of paths that obviously wasn’t accidental.
:What happened?
:Nothing. He pointed out that the Voices would protect him and that the Siyee mission was doomed.
:I fear he is right on both counts.
She hadn’t told Juran about her and Mirar’s agreement to act as if they were enemies. It would make it obvious that she didn’t consider Mirar an enemy, and that would hardly please Juran. She didn’t want to give him any further reason to distrust her.
Now she had the last task of the evening left. Each night since she had first dream-linked with Mirar they had communicated the same way. Tonight they would have much to discuss. Closing her eyes, she sought the state of mind she needed.
:Auraya.
It took her a moment to realize she must have fallen asleep straightaway.
:Mirar?
:At last! How late do you turn in?
She felt amusement at his impatience.
:As late as I wish.
:Ah. It’s like that, is it? Got all haughty since the Voices started treating you as an honored guest?
:Only when I need to. Did we do well today?
:It was a start.
:Ha! I came up with the best snappy replies!
:I had the last word.
:You did, she agreed.
:So where were you tonight? I was looking forward to continuing over dinner.
:Didn’t Imenja explain? We roamed so far from the city that we couldn’t get back in time.
:Is that the truth, then?
:Yes. Of course, Nekaun and I might have spent a little longer than necessary inspecting the glassmakers’ workshops.
:Well, I suppose the Voices expect you to avoid me.
:And I’m afraid I’ll run out of snappy replies if we meet too often.
:You have a collection of them, then?
:A handful. All waiting for the right moment.
:Who’d have thought you’d have such a talent for bitchiness?
:Thanks. So have the Voices made you any offers yet?
:No. They questioned me about the Dreamweaver law against violence the day I arrived. Maybe my answer put them off.
:Hmm. Remember, even if they don’t offer to kill me for you, they might still offer to kill you for me.
:Then they’re being remarkably good at hiding it. We’ve been talking a lot about the Dreamweavers and my place among them. Whether I am a leader or guide. Imenja said that whether I want to be their leader or not, Dreamweavers regard me with reverence. The trouble with being dead for a while is people have a gilded image of you in their minds. I assured her that I never let them worship me before, and I will not now. She said she believed me.
He had turned serious, and Auraya had a disturbing feeling she was talking to Leiard. She pushed it away.
:I suppose she read the minds of Dreamweavers in order to find out what they think of you.
:Yes. Oh, something she said... I think they know you can read minds.
Auraya felt a chill. Was there any danger in the Voices knowing she could read minds? Jade had thought it would be dangerous for the gods to know Auraya had regained the ability, but she had meant the Circlian gods.
Still, it was possible that the Circlian gods occasionally read the minds of Pentadrians. Unless...
:Do you think only the Voices know, or others?
:I don’t know. I could search some dreams tonight and see if I can find out for you.
:Yes. I’ll do a bit of mind-skimming, too. There might be someone still awake.
:When you do, look for any thoughts about the Elai. I overheard a comment when I arrived suggesting that they were sinking ships.
:Sinking ships? That is an alarming possibility.
:Yes. Now, we both have much to do, and the night isn’t getting any longer.
:No. Good night.
:Good night.
:Mirar?
:Yes?
She paused, suddenly worried that what she had been about to say would give him a false impression. After a moment, she decided it wouldn’t.
:Thank you for your help.
:Don’t thank me yet. Not until the last Siyee is free and you escape this place. When the last Siyee flies be prepared for betrayal, Auraya, he warned. I don’t think the Voices intend to let you go.
As he broke the link she floated in an uneasy dream state, thinking about his warning. If I was in Nekaun’s place, I wouldn’t let me go either. I’m going to have to give him a reason to let me go. She was too tired to consider that now, and she still had mind-skimming to do. Concentrating, she sent her mind out into the world.
Moving from mind to mind, she skimmed the thoughts of the Servants and domestics still awake in the Sanctuary. When she encountered the mind of a Voice’s Companion she felt a thrill of satisfaction. The woman, Reivan, was restless and unable to sleep and her thoughts revolved around First Voice Nekaun.
It’s been so long, Reivan thought. Surely he could have found the time to visit me once. How am I going to warn him about Imenja’s suspicions? I can’t go near him in case Auraya reads my mind.
Auraya’s stomach sank. T
hat confirmed what Mirar had told her. Her mind-reading ability had been detected.
But then, why would he listen to me if he won’t listen to Imenja. No, I can only hope he doesn’t underestimate Auraya. He’ll come back to me once he’s killed her, Reivan told herself.
Auraya felt a shock. Somehow it was more chilling to hear Nekaun’s intentions stated so clearly in the woman’s mind. But she also sensed doubt. Companion Reivan knew the other Voices believed Nekaun would kill her, but they didn’t know for sure. He was secretive. He kept his plans from them. Then Auraya saw the woman’s greatest fear, lurking constantly at the edge of her mind. The other Voices believed Auraya was more powerful than Nekaun. Reivan worried that if he attempted to kill Auraya, he would do so alone. She feared he would fail.
Interesting, Auraya mused. I wonder if they are right. And it is odd that Nekaun keeps himself separate from the other Voices. It’s a weakness that could be exploited.
The Companion was drifting off to sleep now. If she knew anything about the Elai, she wasn’t going to be thinking about it any time soon. Her thoughts were full of Nekaun. Auraya moved on, seeking other minds.
She would not abandon the remaining Siyee imprisoned here, but when the last of them flew, she would be ready to defend herself against Nekaun.
33
Have you made a copy of this scroll? Tamun asked Emerahl as soon as The Twins dream-linked with her.
:I’m trying to, Emerahl replied. The only reason Barmonia lets me see it is because I can translate for him. He won’t let me write it down for him. He won’t even let me take notes. I’ve had to memorize what I can and write it down secretly.
:What form are you writing it down in? Tamun asked.
:I’ve burned it onto the inside of my water skin. They’ll never find it there.
:In what language?
:Hanian, so they won’t know what I wrote if they do find it.
:You must use the original glyphs! The smallest mis-translation can change the meaning of a phrase!
:She won’t mistranslate, Surim injected.
:Thank you, Emerahl said, pleased at his defense of her.
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