Once more she felt the heat of the fire. She relaxed further, letting the warmth soak deep into her old bones. Old bones? she mused. What an odd thing to think.
The gray shroud that cocooned her seemed to thin, and the plinking came to the forefront of her awareness. Where was she? she thought in confusion, and then, who was she, for she couldn’t form any clear concepts at the moment. But the gray shadow had asked her something.
“I’m sorry,” she heard herself say lazily. “What’s that?”
“Quite all right, my dear,” the voice said kindly. “I know it’s hard to concentrate, but you must. Soon, you can rest.”
“Yes, rest,” her voice said wearily.
“Yes . . .” the gray voice crooned, “but first tell me, why are you here?”
“Hush,” a new voice whispered into her thoughts. “I’ll answer for you.” She gratefully acceded to the warm presence, allowing it to enfold her in its comforting strength.
“The need was great, and I can’t abandon that which needs me,” she heard herself say, but they weren’t her words. The music had stopped, leaving only the chilly sound of dripping water.
“Hum . . .” the gray voice murmured. “Where’s your home?”
“Home is where I am,” the warm presence said through her.
“Really,” the gray shadow mused. “I see I will have to be more specific with you.”
There was a space before her. She could sense it now. It was an enormous room, almost as big as being outside. The thick cloud obscuring her thoughts was clearing, and she began to remember. “Alissa,” she thought. “Yes, that’s who I am, and I’m at the Hold to find my book.”
“Your book?” the warm thoughts spoke to her alone. “I think not!”
“Where is the First Truth?” the gray voice demanded.
“I don’t know. But it calls,” the presence said using her voice.
“That’s right!” Alissa blurted into the warm thoughts. “But I can’t tell from where, exactly” And why, she wondered, was someone speaking for her?
“I said be quiet!” the warm thought scolded. “It’s hard when you try to answer as well.”
She suddenly realized she had her eyes shut, so she opened them. The familiar dining hall flashed before her. She glimpsed Strell, seemingly asleep in his chair and Bailic glowering and pacing. Then the room vanished, replaced by a vision of impossibly high ceilings and dark pillars.
“Close your eyes, you fool!” the presence admonished, and she immediately did. The double vision was confusing. Besides, she could sense a source, twin to her own, glittering golden in their shared thoughts. Suddenly she understood it was Useless speaking for her, just as he had before. But why was she still conscious? She wasn’t reliving anyone’s memory.
“Useless?” Alissa thought hesitantly, not sure if she should be pleased or angry.
“Be still,” he hissed into her thoughts. “I’m trying to save your life. Ungrateful brat.”
All right, she decided. She would be angry. But Useless was too distracted to notice her huff. It was only then that Alissa realized she was in Useless’s thoughts. He wasn’t in hers. That horrible feeling of violation was nonexistent, and her hostility melted away in fascination. She looked at her source shimmering faintly under its ward, then at the other, free and unfettered.
“Are you a Keeper’s child?” Bailic asked. Alissa recognized him now. He had been asking the questions all along.
“Yes,”Alissa thought absently.
“No,” Useless said through her.
“Then whose child are you?” Bailic asked warily. Alissa could tell he was right in front of her, even with her eyes closed, and she struggled not to shudder.
“I am a child of the sun and earth, and sibling to the wind,” she told him, but of course she wasn’t. She was Meson and Rema’s daughter. Useless answered for her, and she didn’t care.
Struck by an idea, she made a point of awareness and slyly moved it to the unfettered sphere before her. It was irresistible, and she felt like a small child going for a forbidden sweet, and just like an errant child, she was scolded.
“Stop that!” Useless snapped. “Insolent little . . . Don’t touch anything! You’re making this impossible. Deem yourself lucky. No Keeper, much less a student Keeper, has been permitted to remember this technique.”
Alissa’s point dissolved with a frightening suddenness under his will. Embarrassed, she turned her attention to Bailic. He was speaking again, and he didn’t sound happy at her answers.
“Where,” he spat, “did you come from?”
“I was here before you,” Useless intoned, “and I will remain when your soul is rent and scattered to the winds of time.”
“Who, under the Wolves of the Navigator, are you?” Bailic whispered.
“I’m your death, Bailic,” Alissa heard herself say, the words sounding cold and alien falling from her lips, and she shivered. “I’m your death, waiting to be loosed, and I will be loosed, have no doubt. Then we will finish our game.”
“Talo-Toecan!” Bailic exploded.
Alissa opened her eyes. She couldn’t help it. She had to know, to see what was going on. The double sight was confusing, but the dark cavern quickly faded. Talo-Toecan? Alissa remembered in astonishment. That was the name her father had given his teacher. Useless was a Master? There was one left? Wolves, she thought near panic. It was her book. She wouldn’t give it back!
Bailic had backed up almost to the fire. “But . . . how can you speak through . . .” he stammered.
“You made it possible yourself by putting her so close to unconsciousness,” Useless said through her. “Leave her alone. She knows nothing of this,” and then to Alissa, “It’s too hard now that you’re fully awake. If you value your hide don’t tell him of me or what you’ve seen tonight.” Alissa felt him sigh. “Burn you to ash, why didn’t you just go home?”
“No! Wait! she cried. “We can’t get past the closet door!”
“I know. I told that piper of yours you couldn’t,” he said dryly. “I’m surprised Bailic hasn’t seen the obvious and killed you yet.” And then he was gone. Alissa was alone among her thoughts. Bailic’s trance was broken, and no, she wouldn’t fall for it again. It was only her ignorance that had allowed it the first time.
Alissa knew Bailic saw awareness return to her eyes, mindful that the presence he named Talo-Toecan was gone. All trace of congenial host had evaporated. Again he was the insane, murderous Keeper Alissa recalled from her papa’s memories. Terrified, she scrambled up to keep the table between them.
“You,” he shouted, pointing a trembling finger at her, “are rapidly becoming more trouble than you’re worth!” Bailic lunged, and she darted back in fear. With a shudder, he halted, and they faced each other across the wide table. He smiled then, and Alissa shivered. “You fell asleep, my dear,” he said softly, his pale eyes glinting in the low light of the neglected fire. “Did you dream?”
“No,” Alissa said tightly, her breath shallow and her heart pounding. What, she wondered, had Useless meant by, see the “obvious”?
“I hope I didn’t frighten you,” Bailic said. He stepped back from the table and tugged his short vest straight, regaining his usual, poised elegance. “Take no notice of my moods. You’re always welcome to stay, even past the spring.”
“Thank you,” she said, her eyes riveted to his.
“Good night then,” Bailic said, and he spun about, the long sleeves of his shirt billowing as he stalked into the darkness beyond the archway and into the great hall.
29
Alissa took a shuddering breath, listening until she heard the hushed, impatient sound of Bailic’s soft shoes on the stair before going to Strell. He looked for all the world as if he were sleeping. “Strell?” she called hesitantly as she bent close. “Are you awake?”
“I don’t know,” he answered, his eyes closed.
A quick shiver went through her. “Strell, wake up.”
He si
ghed and stirred, and it was in great relief that she watched his eyes open. Another deep breath and awareness filled his eyes. Suddenly nervous, she backed up. He glanced at his pipe in his hands, then at the empty room. “Did I . . . What happened?” he asked.
Alissa swallowed. Perhaps now he would talk to her. “Bailic,” she said softly. “He put us in a trance, tried to get me to tell him who my parents were.”
“What?” It was a horrified gasp.
“Ashes, I was a fool,” Alissa said, half turning away. “I should have seen it coming.”
Strell’s eyes went vacant. “I saw that at market once. What did I—”
“He never asked you anything,” Alissa interrupted. “I would have told him everything, but Useless spoke with my voice, just like before, and answered his questions.” She smiled faintly, thankful Strell didn’t seem angry at her. “Bailic was furious. You should have seen him.”
Strell froze, and Alissa’s smile faltered as a thousand thoughts seemed to flit behind his eyes. “We’re going,” he said suddenly, standing up and taking her elbow. “Right now.”
Shocked, she pulled away. “Strell, relax. Bailic doesn’t know anything. It’s all right.”
“It’s not all right,” he said forcefully. “I nearly got you killed.”
For a moment Alissa could only stare. “But nothing happened,” she stated as he took her arm and started to pull her to the door. “Why are you so upset?”
“It could have,” he said, his expression so intent, it was frightening. “I helped him. I’m supposed to be protecting you, and if it wasn’t for my music, you never would have fallen under his sway. It was my fault.” He hesitated, seeming to search for words. “I can’t protect you from him,” he finally said. “I was a fool to think I could.”
Alissa stumbled after him into the great hall, too shocked to protest. “But he can’t do it again. I know what to watch for. It’s all right.”
Strell stopped and turned to face her. The hall was cool with moonlight. “What will he do next? He stopped me from whistling. What if he stops you from breathing.”
Alissa’s lips parted, unable to answer him. Strell nodded sharply as understanding filled her. “You have to pack,” he said, pulling her back into motion. “We’re going. Now.”
Her feet touched the steps, and Alissa pulled away, frightened. “I’m not leaving, Strell. There’s snow out there, if you haven’t noticed.”
He hesitated for only a moment. “Yes,” he said quickly. “We’ll go first light.”
“Strell! It’s the winter. The coast is three weeks away, in good weather!”
“I’d rather take my chances in the snow.” Clearly frustrated, he stood still, his anger melting into helplessness. “Ashes, Alissa. I almost got you killed. I can’t protect you from him. Can’t you see that?”
Alissa swallowed hard. “I never asked you to,” she whispered.
Strell took a breath, then let it out. “We’re going,” he said, turning to ascend the steps.
“I’m not leaving!” she said, refusing to move from the stair.
Strell spun, his face in the moonlight full of a frightening shadow. Alissa watched in shock as he raised his pipe between his hands and brought it down hard and fast against his knee. There was a sharp crack, and his grandfather’s pipe was sundered in two. The pieces slipped through his grip to clatter down upon the polished steps. “That’s how much good your magic is,” he whispered fiercely. “That’s how long your deception will last, and that’s what Bailic will do to you when he figures it out. And he will figure it out, Alissa.” He took a breath. “Go pack your things. We leave tomorrow after breakfast. He won’t look for us until nearly dinner. By then we will be too far for him to follow.”
“Or we’ll be dead!” she shouted after him as he stormed up the stairs. Strell never acknowledged he heard her but continued up until she couldn’t hear him anymore.
“Burn it to ash, Strell,” Alissa said softly as she bent to retrieve the pieces of his grandfather’s pipe. “It’s not worth this much grief.” It never had been, she thought. None of it. The Wolves take her. She had been a fool. She would let Strell be for tonight—talking to him now would be worse than talking to a river—and tomorrow she would make him see reason.
Somehow the polished wood felt lighter now that it was broken, and Alissa carried Strell’s pipe up past the empty halls and chambers, past the mirror on the landing, and past his room. Not a sound could she hear as she ghosted to her door and quietly shut it behind her.
“Where’s Talon?” she wondered aloud as she glanced about her room. Alissa hadn’t seen her since noon. It was very unlike her bird to be gone that long. A flash of worry crossed Alissa until she remembered the kestrel always made herself scarce when Useless appeared. The silly bird would return when she felt safe again.
It could be worse, Alissa thought dismally. Bailic still didn’t know who was here to find the book and who was the distraction. And he never will, she vowed, reverently placing the remains of Strell’s pipe on her mantel. Strell was being unreasonable.
Sinking down upon the hearth, she poked the fire back to life with one of the legs from Strell’s old tripod. There were rusty fire irons propped in their customary spot, but she preferred to use the unwieldy length of metal. It was a subtle reminder to always think before reaching.
“Just like I didn’t when trying for Useless’s source,” she murmured, and recalling his stinging thoughts, harsh with impatience, she blushed. She was worse than a child—no restraint at all. But she learned a lot from the encounter and now had an idea of how she might rid herself of his annoying ward.
Alissa built the fire up and composed herself on the floor, wrapping the blanket about her. She was warm enough but needed some comfort. The blanket was a talisman of home, a reminder of safety, contentment, and long, quiet evenings. Tonight she had lost herself in a trance, been rescued, scolded, threatened, then abandoned by friend and bird alike. She wanted something to hold. The blanket would have to do. Breathing deeply through the thick wool, Alissa imagined she could smell burnt bread. Smiling, she added a new log and leaned back against the seat of her chair.
Useless’s unspoken thoughts had confirmed her suspicions that her sphere was nothing less than unaltered power. The sphere only appeared empty, as it was almost impossible for limit-bound thoughts to wrap around anything as large as near infinity. The shimmering ward Useless had encased around her source was created from force, and so, she reasoned, it could be changed. The question was, how? Every time she sent her thoughts near his ward, she received that cursed, sharp warning. It was painful, but not debilitating.
What if, she supposed, she provoked a response and wrapped the force that usually burned her in a bubble of thought, catching it as it were? Her eyes slid her share of the tripod, and she resolved to think about the possible results. One: She would get burned as Useless had warned. It hurt, but it wasn’t bad. She had been getting pokes from it for weeks now and was none the worse. Two: It would work, and she would have captured some of the ward’s strength.
Do this enough times, and the ward would be gone. It would be like dipping water from a bucket. It may not look like much is removed, but eventually the bucket is empty. Three: There was no three she could think of, so she would try it. The worst she could do was get burned.
Pleased she had taken the time to think it through, Alissa shifted excitedly on the warm flagstones. Her practice in the burrs and thorns paid off and she found her source without even closing her eyes. Only slightly distracted by the fire, she formed a bubble of thought as Useless had done when she tried to drive him from her mind. Slowly Alissa moved it forward until . . .
“Ow,” she hissed as a small burst of pain raced through her existence and was gone. Grimacing, she took a deep breath and shut her eyes. It was easier to concentrate that way. This time, she made the bubble thicker. Again she pushed the bubble to her source.
With a sharp snap, Alissa caught th
e tiniest bit of power and wrapped it up in a safe package. Her breath caught at the feel of it, white-hot and still, all potential, just waiting for direction. It had been surprisingly easy. She could use this, she thought smugly, run it through her pattern, much as she did the strength from her own source. But she didn’t. Where would it go when done? Alissa doubted she could loop it back into her source, not with Useless’s ward still there blocking anything from going in or out. Only the smallest fraction of his ward was held tight in her thoughts. The barrier was still there. She would have to dump the force somewhere.
“But where?” Alissa whispered, not sure this was such a good idea anymore. She couldn’t just carry it around. What if she sneezed or something? She might lose it!
Alissa looked at her bubble glowing a luminescent gold from the power it contained. It was a singularly enchanting sight, shining like a theoretical dewdrop against the blackness of her mind. But it was wearisome holding her attention for so long. Perhaps she ought to put it back.
Disappointed, Alissa drew the bubble back to the ward. As soon as she crossed the unseen safe line, a flash of light erupted and was drawn into her bubble. She watched in horror as her bubble doubled in size as more and more force was pulled into it.
Stop! she thought frantically, finding it difficult to pull away. It was as if the stuff was attracted to itself. Finally she managed to draw the bubble back, and she shivered in relief as the flow ceased. She could feel the bubble tug toward Useless’s ward, and she had to exert a constant pull to keep it still.
Alissa heaved a sigh of annoyance as she found out what the third possible result was. “Three,” she said tightly. “Get yourself into a spot you can’t get out of.” It had sounded so easy at first. Catch it, and toss it. But where? This wasn’t working. Perhaps she could change it to something that wouldn’t attract the ward’s power. Gently pushing the bubble around in her thoughts, she mulled it over. It was worth trying.
Full of a new determination, Alissa focused fully upon her bubble. “You,” she said in her thoughts, hoping all it took was the will to want it as it had in reliving memories, “are no longer power, but solid.”