she to do her job at all? She pushed harder, feeling out the direction the four knot had moved in.
The four knot? That was her, wasn't it? Was she her job? And if she couldn't do her job, was she anything at all?
A burst of nausea ripped through her gut as the First Realm folded away and dropped her into the Second.
By contrast with the whirling in Dora's stomach, the patch of Realmspace she found herself in seemed stable, calm. She caught her balance quickly, on guard with the adrenaline of her emergency response pounding through her. Six black diamonds floating before her had to be the Court, graceful and lethal in the middle distance. It would do for an anchor.
She built her world around it as quickly as she could, sketching out rolling hills from the low, undulating sweeps of green and gold leading up to the Court. Sapphire triangles beyond became the teeth of a mountain range. The sky refused to be rationalised to clouds of any colour; Dora swapped it out for a canopy of dappled leaves and rose petals.
Framework established, Dora sought her charge, tightening her grip on the ethereal knot she still held. With practiced motions, she slipped the twists of the cord through her fingers, letting herself fall through the world as it led her towards the stray Gifted. Behind her, great trees reared up, thrusting aloft the canopy of flowers until it blurred beyond recall.
Familiar sensations assailed her as her feet settled anew into a grey-brown surface easily passed off as leaf mulch. A space opened up in her mind - nothing to do with the Sherim she tried to forget had formed there - and something beyond it tugged her, pressed her to open eyes already held wide. Again, she had the brief glimmer of the thought that it was Rel in trouble. Each Gift had a different flavour in the Second Realm; the Gifted who had called for her was unmistakably a Clearseer.
Thia was Vessit's Clearseer. Dora called up her recollection of the slight, elfin woman. Red hair cascading in enviably neat waves across narrow shoulders that hid stunning strength -
The memory wrenched away. Dora gasped, found herself flailing her arms, scrabbling to get it back. Her hand struck something, which swore. She ducked as the blood-red blur of the word buzzed past, winced at the metallic sound it struck from the tree behind her. An apology, silent but understood instantly, rippled through the Realmspace in the wake of the curse.
Behind the apology, eyes blazing, short-cropped hair standing on end, stood Wolpan, Vessit's Four Knot. Dora's breath caught. She put a hand up to her own hair, then bowed her head. Breaking eye contact helped until Wolpan waved a hand right across her field of vision. The other woman's impatience splashed across Dora as a rush of heat to her cheeks. She cringed, but looked up.
Wolpan gestured Your purpose? at Dora, pointing at her then making a walking motion with her fingers. Dora blinked, sure she'd understood the message before Wolpan had finished signalling. Though the other Four Knot's wide eyes and flat brow spoke more of surprise than anger, her disapproval was palpable.
Of course she'd have it covered. There was no need for Dora to be here at all. She shook herself and pulled herself up straight. A hand pressed to her bowed forehead gestured Sorry to Wolpan, and Dora followed it with the signs for Four Knot - me - overreacting.
Wolpan's face darkened. She gestured I don't understand - speak.
Dora swallowed, her shoulders tensing at the suggestion. She took a step closer to the other woman, touched her forehead again in apology, looked away to one side and said, "I answered the Four Knot call on reflex." She held her voice as low and level as she could, but the words still struck sparks from a nearby tree-trunk.
"You didn't make the call?" Wolpan's surprise sprayed from her mouth in a web of red lines. Dora had to duck, reeling as the spike of fear upset her balance. Wolpan's hand steadied her.
Dora straightened up, fists clenched against a lingering tremble. She shook her head. Not knowing what symbol Vessit used for Thia, she formed an eye with her thumb and forefinger, then traced a circle in the air around it: Clearseer.
Wolpan blinked and put her fingers to her forehead. The apology was automatic, insincere. Dora found herself frowning. Wolpan signed Are you sure? At Dora's nod, the other Four Knot twined her thumbs and spread her fingers; Dora took that for Thia's sign. Wolpan finished by gesturing wait here and I'll take care of it.
Dora felt her cheeks redden, her jaw clench tighter. She sketched the signs for I can help, aware as she did so that the Realmspace around her was heating up. Time seemed to slide backwards as the mulch on the ground flared from dull brown to autumn reds.
Are you up to it? Technically, the translation of Wolpan's gesture - thumb up, thumb down, thumb up - was 'are you well enough to continue?', but Dora and Rel had always used the shorter phrase. Dora almost drove her fingernails through her palms, unable to un-hear the teasing tone the memory of Rel's voice brought with it.
She stuck her thumb up, knowing her face would not reflect the assertion that she was fine. Behind her, something rustled as a breeze rose. If Wolpan didn't back down soon they could be in real trouble.
The other Four Knot paused, her face locked in doubts that attacked Dora as a row of itches down the inside of her ribs. Dora braced for another round of argument, wriggling her feet to settle them better in the leaf litter against the rising wind, but Wolpan gave a short, grim nod. She waved to her left, and Dora took it as an instruction. Much as it galled her to take a summary order, Dora found she couldn't grit her teeth any harder. She gave no acknowledgement, instead going straight to work.
Wolpan walked a dozen feet or so away and knelt on the ground, hands pressed to the floor. Dora shrugged at the curious ritual - how was it supposed to help? Thia wasn't buried - and closed her eyes. The image of the compact, highly-strung Clearseer came to Dora more easily this time. She could feel Wolpan's thoughts tugging at the same concept, oddly weak.
Dora bent to the task of filling in the rough form of Thia. Think her body and identity clearly enough, and the Clearseer's broken consciousness would come back to roost. Some details came easily; tiny nose, vibrant smile, restless energy that meant the slight woman seldom sat. Dora tried to fix Thia's eyes - blue, she was sure - but the moment she moved on they fuzzed back to an indistinct grey.
She tried again, with the same result. Wolpan swore, and Dora had to throw herself flat as the cloud of black motes buzzed past. When the sound had faded, Dora lifted her face and shoulders out of the muck with one hand, and flapped the other at Wolpan in a clumsy version of the Be careful! gesture.
The other Four Knot blanched as the ripple effect of the rebuke hit her. Leaves swirled as the rising wind circled back for another blast. Wolpan opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it again, scowling. She gestured Stop interfering.
Interfering? Dora's awkward shrug made the gesture a question. She pushed herself up to a sitting position.
"With my image of Thia, you daft-" Wolpan cut off sharply, but the insult speared out in coils of red thread. Seated, half-way through the act of crossing her legs beneath her, Dora could do little more than topple herself over to get out of the way. Most of the coils passed over her, curving round until they burrowed into the earth behind her. The bottom few in the tangle slid softly into her arm, sending hot lines of pain through from her eyeball to the crown of her head.
Dora pressed her face into the dirt, hands wrapped around her skull, determined not to scream. Wolpan's anger raced like wildfire through her vulnerable synapses, scattering her concentration. Despite her best efforts, a whimper escaped her lips, slithering away under the carpet of leaves.
She'd only caught a fraction of the insult's force. She clung to that thought as Wolpan's frustration with this underaged, half-mad upstart smashed through her brain. The likelihood of serious permanent damage was small, and she was interfering where she wasn't needed and messing things up. Thia would be in real trouble if they didn't get their act together quickly.
With Thia's unresolved fate a second anchor, Dora found herself sympathising with Wolpan's view
. After all, the Clearseer's well-being was probably the only care Dora shared with the other Four Knot. Looked at from that point of view, Dora could see how her intervention, however accidental, might look like a criticism or showing off rather than a blunder. Even if Wolpan's carelessness spoke ill of her.
The fire lancing through Dora's brain dived down her spine, flowing into warmth that pooled in her gut, fuelling her. She took Wolpan's anger and made it her own. If Wolpan had responded more quickly, Dora would never have been sucked in here. Then, twice in only a handful of minutes, Wolpan had almost killed her with unguarded words. She was a terrible Four Knot.
Dora pushed aside the question of whose thought that last comment had been and let the web of pain shatter away from her mind. She rolled upright, willing the worst of the dirt out of her dress. Wolpan, kneeling nearby with her face grey and her mouth hanging open, stared up at her. At least this time she managed to look away and keep her voice quiet as she said, "I thought I'd killed you."
Close. Dora made the gesture and watched Wolpan apologise in response. The other Four Knot started to gesture something, but Dora waved her down. She made the spread-fingers gesture Wolpan had used for Thia, shook it up and down for urgency.
Wolpan nodded, then made the apology