“Going to the heart of Vision.” He leaned toward her. “Go to The Temples if you can find them. Talk to some of the Shamans there.”
“I could talk to the Shamans who come around here.”
“No, girl. You and your sisters need to be somewhere else.” Primo leaned back. “I do have a couple of things for you.” He picked up a small bag from his desk and handed it to her. “Everyone tossed in a coin from his last job. Travel money.”
“You gave me my pay from my last assignment.”
“I know. This is from your brethren. Our way of wishing you good fortune on your journey. Then there is this.” He picked up the brass badge that was worn by a journeyman Knife. “In the ordinary way of things, I would have waited a couple more months for this, had you working with someone a while longer. But you’ve earned it. Any First in the city will consider your credentials if you want to keep training and working with the guild. Even if you don’t, that badge would help you get guard work.”
“Thank you.” She took the badge—and swallowed tears.
Primo stood. “You’ll find your place.” He looked a little uncomfortable. “I’ll take it as a kindness if you let me know where you settle.”
She stood too. “I’ll do that.” She lifted the ticket, the bag of coins, and the badge. “Thank you for this.”
He offered his hand—something he rarely did. She gripped that hand, then stepped back.
=Aren’t either of you going to say anything?= she asked when she reached their lodgings. =I did my best.=
*We all did,* Zhahar replied. *But he’s right, Zeela. It’s time for us to move on.* An odd note came into Zhahar’s voice as she whispered, *It is time.*
=Do you think our relocating to another part of Vision will make any difference?=
*Primo thinks it will. And if we go to The Temples, we can ask for Shaman Danyal. Maybe he could help us, or at least give us advice, based on knowing we’re a Tryad. We have to hope it will make a difference.*
=Why?=
That odd note came into Zhahar’s voice again. *If we don’t hope, how can we change anything?*
Zeela had no answer, so she and Zhahar took turns packing up their things. They didn’t ask Sholeh about her books. They simply packed them, accepting the sore muscles that would come from hauling the extra weight. The books were as close to life as Sholeh had seen lately. They couldn’t ask her to leave even one behind—especially when they were afraid they were losing her.
Chapter 38
They reached the bazaar at the center of Vision after a day’s travel. Instead of pushing on to find The Temples, they had to take a room when Zeela suddenly became dizzy and couldn’t seem to hold on to her thoughts. That’s when Zhahar realized that Sholeh had been submerged for so many days that she and Zeela had ignored the necessity of regular meals. Now Sholeh’s aspect was physically out of balance to such a degree that Zhahar considered what would happen to them if she had to take Sholeh and Zeela to a clinic.
She got them to the room and went out again for food, hoping that she would get back before Sholeh’s disorientation began to show in her too.
She bought flatbread filled with soft cheese, dates, and chopped nuts; a ball of brown rice carried in a paper shaped like a flower; and a stick of cooked meat. Back in the room, she took a mouthful of each type of food, eating slowly. Then she prodded Zeela to come into view and do the same thing. Once Zeela felt steadier, the two of them managed to get Sholeh into view—and forced her to stay there until she took a bite of each kind of food and drank a glass of water.
Throughout that evening, Zhahar forced the rotation until the food was gone. By then, Zeela was exhausted but back to normal, and Sholeh, while sounding frail, was lucid again.
The next morning, Zhahar went out to the food stalls for another flatbread. Once she was back inside, she divided the flatbread into three pieces. When Sholeh resisted, Zhahar became insistent.
*We’re going to find The Temples today,* she said. *But not until we’ve all eaten and washed up.*
::I don’t have to wash,:: Sholeh said faintly. ::No one is going to see me.::
=You still have to wash,= Zeela said. =It’s been too many days since you had a full bath.=
*Which we can’t do today,* Zhahar broke in when she felt Sholeh start to protest. *The room has only a sink and a toilet, so we’re all taking sponge baths.*
They finished up so late in the morning they had to take all their bags with them or pay for the use of the room for another day. After wandering the bazaar for a couple of hours, Zhahar wished they’d kept the room.
=The entrance is supposed to be here,= Zeela snarled. =At least, this is the direction everyone we asked pointed to.=
In the city of Vision, you can find only what you can see, Zhahar thought. So who would be able to see The Temples?
She lugged their bags into an open space between two stalls. *Be quiet for a minute. Let me try something.*
Holding on to the straps of her bags, she closed her eyes and thought of Danyal walking the Asylum grounds, holding a wind chime because it was the sound of joy.
The wind chime, singing in the air and lifting the heart.
She opened her eyes and looked at the archway between the stalls. THE TEMPLES was carved into the arch.
*Found it,* she whispered. Settling the bags over her shoulders as best she could, she crossed into the part of Vision that belonged to the Shamans.
She paused in front of the Temple of Sorrow, then spotted a figure in a wheat-colored robe standing outside another building farther down the road.
“Good day to you,” Zhahar called. “Could you help me?”
The person—a woman, judging by the shape of the face—smiled and lifted her hands as if to say “Maybe” or “I don’t know.”
“Do you understand me?”
A nod.
“Can you speak?”
Fingers touched the material covering her throat, followed by a head shake.
“Oh.” Zhahar caught her lower lip between her teeth. The woman did understand her, so if she phrased her questions carefully, she might still get answers. “I need help. I came to The Temples for guidance.”
The woman spread her arms wide, as if to say there was help and guidance all around them.
“Yes, there are many Shamans here, but I was looking for Shaman Danyal. Do you know him?”
A nod.
“Is he here?”
Head shake.
Zhahar sighed. Could she trust another Shaman with the secret of what she was?
The woman pointed to her own eye, then patted her chest.
When Zhahar said nothing, the woman did it again.
::Could I see?:: Sholeh asked.
Zhahar hesitated. *It would be hard to explain your coming into view.*
::I just need to be close enough to the surface.::
The woman made the two gestures again.
=Eye and chest?= Zeela suggested.
::No,:: Sholeh replied. ::Seeing and heart. I think.::
“Seeing and heart?” Zhahar asked.
Nodding, the woman raised two fingers and brought them closer together.
::Seeing heart,:: Sholeh said.
When Zhahar repeated the words, the woman’s smile widened—and Zhahar understood.
“Shaman Danyal is at a place called Seeing Heart? Do you know where it is?”
More hand gestures, patiently repeated over and over.
::One hour. Riding. South.::
“An hour’s ride south of here?” Zhahar asked.
The woman clapped her hands, indicating delight.
“Thank you.” Smiling, Zhahar blinked away tears of relief. “Thank you.”
=We can go back to the travel station where we arrived and find out if there are any coaches going south,= Zeela said.
After thanking the woman again, Zhahar lugged their baggage back to the archway. Then Zeela came into view and took over and got them to the station.
&nb
sp; They had to wait a couple of hours for the next southbound coach. Not liking the look of most of the food being sold at the convenient stands, Zeela settled for a piece of fruit and small jug of water.
The possibility of seeing Danyal again had perked up Sholeh enough for her to pay attention to their surroundings. That allowed Zhahar some time to submerge and rest—and think her own thoughts. Shaman Danyal was an hour’s ride away, and that was good.
But where was Lee? If she asked, would Danyal tell her?
Chapter 39
The wooden sign at the top of the lane was well made but small enough to be easily overlooked. Under the words SEEING HEART were symbols for the eye and heart. That indicated not everyone who came searching for this place could read.
You can find only what you can see, Zhahar thought. And you can see only what you truly want to find.
She and Zeela had debated for the entire ride south which of them should approach whoever was in this place. She had experience as a Handler, but the people in the small community where they had disembarked had said it was a school. A Handler wasn’t a teacher. On the other hand, a journeyman of the Knife Guild probably wouldn’t find much work at a school either.
In the end, they decided Zhahar would be the one to approach and ask for Danyal.
The lane was still rutted in places and was bordered by frost-killed weeds, but it showed signs of someone making slow but steady effort to make it more passable. Zhahar caught glimpses of buildings between the trees but couldn’t see much. Then she got close enough to see why.
A living green wall that topped out a finger’s length above her head stretched out in both directions. On either side of the lane were tall metal posts. The metal bar gate was open now, but she thought it was probably locked after sunset—a good assumption, since there was a bell on one of the posts that could summon someone if there was a late arrival.
Shabby buildings that looked like they were being fixed up. Grounds that looked like they were being cleaned up. And…
*That’s Nik,* Zhahar said. *And over there. That’s Kobrah!*
As she hurried forward to catch up to Kobrah, she noticed other people. Denys. Some of the borderline inmates from the southern Asylum. And Danyal.
She changed direction and hurried as best she could, wanting to drop all the baggage and be free of the weight. “Shaman!”
He turned toward her voice, and for a moment she thought he wouldn’t acknowledge her—or didn’t recognize her. Then he strode toward her, swiftly closing the distance.
“Zhahar?”
::I don’t think he wants to see us,:: Sholeh whispered.
“I should go,” she said, stepping back.
“No.” Danyal grabbed the handle of one of the traveling bags. “No. I’m just surprised to see you. You were given Heart’s Justice. How did you get here?”
“We ended up in the northwest part of Vision.”
“The northwest absorbed a lot of the wizards’ kind of darkness,” he said, studying her.
“Yes. We tried…Zeela did the best there, but Sholeh and I were too much of a burden.”
=My sisters are not a burden,= Zeela snapped.
“Why are you here, Sholeh Zeela a Zhahar?” he asked gently.
“We came looking for work.”
“But why here?”
“We went to The Temples and asked for you, hoping you’d have some suggestions or advice. A woman told us about this place and that you were here.”
“I see. So you’re looking for work. All of you?”
Remembering how little time Sholeh had been in view over the past few weeks and what that had done to their youngest sister, she lifted her chin as a small defiance. “Yes, all of us.”
“Is Sholeh still interested in scholarly work?” Danyal asked. “Because we’ve got stacks of donated books that need to be organized, and everything from fine prints of paintings to rough charcoal sketches of places that all need to be sorted in a way that will help us figure out where those places might be. We have two Supervisors—meaning Nik and Denys—and a couple of Helpers, but we’re looking for some help with sorting out the students and working out what each of them needs in order to take the next step in the journey. And the Knife is looking at people from his guild to stay here as guards to help keep order.”
We? Zhahar wondered as her heart gave a funny little jump.
::I still like books,:: Sholeh said. ::Tell him, Zhahar!::
She swallowed hard. “Sholeh is very interested in working with the books and pictures. And Zeela earned her journeyman’s badge in the Knife Guild.”
“What about you, Zhahar?” Danyal asked softly. “What do you want?”
Love. “I think I could learn to be a counselor.”
“Is that all you want?”
“I don’t know.” She hesitated. Then, because it was Danyal, she blurted out the truth. “I’m so scared. We almost lost Sholeh, and I’m scared to want anything but a safe place where we can all survive.”
Danyal studied her. Then he nodded. “All right. If you want the work, we could use the help.”
Her legs felt weak with relief. “We want the work.”
He took the big traveling bag off her shoulder and slipped it over his. He pointed behind her. “The staff has suites of rooms in that building. They’re clean and repaired, but they’re not pretty. We’ll be feeling the full touch of winter soon, so we focused on getting the functional done first. If you want to paint walls or anything else in your free time, go right ahead.”
He headed toward the building. She fell into step.
“If we’re all working…” she began.
“Everyone gets a full day off from the work rotation and a half day of personal time,” he said. “The three of you together will put in the same hours as any other person, so you’ll have to split the time off between you, but you’ll get the same as anyone else here.”
“All right.”
“There are suites still available on the first and second floors. Any preference?”
“First is fine,” she said at the same moment Zeela said, =Second floor is safer.=
“Who’s arguing for what?” He smiled. “You’ve got a look on your face.”
“Second floor is safer, but I’d still like the first floor.”
“You can always change suites if you don’t like this one,” Danyal said easily. He stopped at a door and opened it. “We haven’t locked the ones that weren’t occupied. The key is in the office. I’ll ask my partner to bring it to you.” He stepped inside, set down her traveling bag, and turned to leave.
“Shaman? Do you wish we hadn’t found this place?”
He didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then: “This is a new life, Sholeh Zeela a Zhahar. There are no taboos here from your homeland unless you bring them. What you make of your life is up to you.”
“I don’t know how to begin.”
“Getting unpacked is a good place to start. When we meet for the evening meal, we can tell you about this place and what we hope to do here.” After giving her hand a friendly squeeze, he left.
She waited until she heard the outer door close. Then she looked around.
=Pretty dingy,= Zeela said. =But nothing some paint wouldn’t fix.=
::The furniture isn’t any better than what we had in the room near the Asylum,:: Sholeh said. ::But it isn’t any worse. And I can study again.::
*It sounds like you’re going to be doing more than studying,* Zhahar said.
=Did we get stuck in the northwest part of Vision because we were scared?= Zeela asked. =Or because I needed to earn some credentials that would help us?=
The heart has no secrets. *Maybe a little of both,* Zhahar replied. *Or maybe we weren’t ready to come here.*
::If we had reached this place too soon, we would have brought the taboos with us,:: Sholeh said thoughtfully. ::Even though we believed they were wrong.::
Opportunities and choices. New life, fresh start.
They unpacked. Deciding which shelf would hold Sholeh’s books was easy. Deciding where to put Zeela’s weapons ended in a lively discussion that wasn’t completely settled. When Zhahar unwrapped the Three Faces and the Third Eye, she automatically opened a drawer to hide them away.
“We’re done hiding,” she said as she set the Tryad’s spiritual symbols on the dresser. Between them, she placed the little bag that held the one-shot bridge Sebastian had given her—a reminder of acceptance…and possibilities.
That much done, she stopped so they all had time to wash up for dinner.
Just when she began to wonder if Danyal had forgotten about the key, someone knocked on the door.
She opened the door and couldn’t do anything but stare.
His black hair had gotten longer, and when he removed the dark glasses, his green eyes were clear.
“Lee,” she whispered, filled with so much hope it felt painful. “Lee.”
Smiling, he held out a hand and waited for her to slip her hand into his.
“Hello, Sholeh Zeela a Zhahar,” he said. “My name is Lee. I’m the Bridge at Seeing Heart. I hear we’re going to be working together.”
Yes, we are, she thought as he drew her into the hallway, locked her door, and handed her the key. Yes, we are.
And maybe, if his feelings for her hadn’t changed, they would be able to do more.
Anne Bishop, Bridge of Dreams
(Series: Ephemera # 3)
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