Forgotten Truth

  He turned to the Hold, and she fell into step beside him. “It’s too late,” he said softly. “I already am.”

  46

  “Come on, Strell.” Alissa hammered at his door. “I know Connen-Neute had you piping half the night, but it’s . . .” she did a quick calculation, “. . . nearly seven o’clock.” She stuck her tender knuckle in her mouth. “I think,” she added under her breath. That night he’d played verse after embarrassing verse of “Taykell’s Adventure,” though Strell insisted it was called “Taykell and his Maiden” and always had been. She had left after a particularly lewd verse, ears flaming.

  “Strell?” She tried the latch. The door creaked open, and rapping on the doorframe, Alissa peeked in. His bed was empty and neatly made up. An expansive rug spread in soft muted shades of sand across the floor. A carved table had replaced his rickety one. It sat too close to his cold hearth with a cup of forgotten tea upon it. Her eyebrows rose at the tapestry of a tract of desert, but what surprised her most was the crack in the wall, or rather its absence. Someone had fixed it. Strell, apparently, was settling in.

  “But where are you?” She retreated into the hall. A mental search of the Hold didn’t find him or Lodesh. Either they were out of her range or someone was blocking her search. Useless, though, was in the garden. Curious, she headed downstairs. He might know where they were.

  Upon reaching the uppermost landing over the great hall, she paused to gaze down at the pendulum swinging its ponderous cadence, marking time whether anyone noticed or not. It was a quarter after three. Useless hadn’t bothered to reset it this morning. She pulled out Redal-Stan’s oversized ring from around her neck and dangled it so the sun shone through the tiny hole in the band. Adjusting for the new day, she waited until its slight motions stilled. It was just after seven. Smiling now, she set her watch carefully upon the railing before levering herself to stand upon it. Still struggling for balance, she shifted. As a raku she grabbed her watch and unwisely half fell, half glided down in a tight, thrill-rushing spiral.

  The pendulum was now a toy. She easily caught it, shifting it to seven before releasing it to set time back to rights. Alissa watched it swing away and back before returning to her proper form. Shoes included, she thought, pleased with herself. Growing more curious, she wandered into the kitchen. The sight of the garden door made her pause. Useless had painted it a bright blue. She had been back nearly a week, and it still startled her.

  Talon chittered from the kitchen’s crossbeams, dropping to land upon Alissa’s shoulder. “Hush,” Alissa murmured as she gentled the bird with soft fingers. “Where’s everybody?” Talon’s feathers were cool and smelled of outside, and Alissa’s gaze went to the coat hook. Both Strell and Lodesh’s coats were missing. Frowning, she went to find Useless.

  The morning sun was warm, as the threatened cold had retreated to allow a return of the last hot days of summer. She walked down the rough path and winced at the weeds. Useless’s garden was a mess, looking more so for having run through it last week when it was in all its glory. But that, she vowed, would change: one garden bed at a time.

  “Useless?” Her voice broke the silence as she turned the corner and found him at the firepit. A trio of sparrows took flight. He turned, blinking in the morning sun.

  “Good morning, Alissa.”

  She dropped down next to him, pleased he was here, and she was here, and that tomorrow would be the same. “Where is everybody?”

  “I can’t say,” he said guardedly, poking at the fire. “I’m sure they’ll be back soon.”

  “Back? Are they with Connen-Neute?” She felt him at the outskirts of her awareness.

  Useless was silent, and Alissa’s eyes narrowed. Clearly she was being put off, a feeling that strengthened as he pasted a smile upon his face, deepening his few wrinkles. “I suggest we take the opportunity to discuss something I’d rather not expose Connen-Neute to,” he said, and her forthcoming complaint evaporated. Though she and Connen-Neute had been taking instruction together for only a short time, she was already feeling the pinch of competition. Talon seemed to laugh, but she settled meekly at a severe look from Useless.

  “Now.” Useless laced his fingers together. “Show me again the pattern you use to shift.”

  A groan escaped her, and her heels thumped against the bench. “We’ve been over this a hundred times,” she moaned.

  “Then you should have no problem with it, hm-m-m?”

  She made a rude face. “Here’s the pattern I use to shift,” she said in a monotone as she obediently set it up. “Here’s the one for tripping . . .”

  “Careful,” he warned.

  “. . . the lines,” she finished, hiding a smile. The first ward vanished as she set up the second. Deep in her thoughts the pattern glowed. She squirmed as Useless silently pondered the resonance it made upon his own tracings.

  “They don’t cross,” he grumbled.

  “I know,” Alissa said tartly, and he gave her a sharp glance.

  “Don’t take it down, yet,” he directed as he continued to check every last synapse.

  Alissa slumped. Much to her annoyance, Talon invented a new game involving Alissa’s collar and her claws. “Stop it,” Alissa whispered, unhooking Talon’s tiny weapons, but the bird continued to flap about Alissa’s ears, tugging at her neckline. Useless looked up with a questioning bother. “I said stop it! Daft bird.” Embarrassed, Alissa plucked the bird up and set her on the bench. Talon fluttered to the ground, continuing her game with Alissa’s shoelace.

  Useless gave them a dubious look, and Alissa shrugged helplessly. With an insane-sounding screech, Talon rolled on the ground with the lace like it was a deadly viper. Useless sighed and went back to his studies. “We must be missing something,” he muttered, then his eyes brightened, and he leaned closer. “What is it you always forget when you shift?”

  Alissa felt herself go crimson. “It was only the once.”

  “Yes, yes. What is it you forget?”

  There was a ridiculous screech as Talon clipped off the lace and beat it upon the ground.

  She looked up. “My clothes.” Her eyes widened. “My clothes!”

  Useless grinned. “Careful, now.”

  Alissa added a new ward to the one already resonating. Her breath caught when the first held firm, the second building off one of the original tracings she used to trip the lines.

  “So, careful . . .” Useless warned again as she tried adding the ward to shift.

  And there it was. Arching off the ward to make her clothes glowed the pattern she used to shift. The memories she used to make clothes created a short circuit between the two. From her right came Useless’s sigh, “Wolves tears and sorrow.”

  “Uh-huh,” she agreed, marveling at the paradox of lines weaving amongst themselves.

  “Now, Alissa? Forget it.”

  “Huh?” She turned in surprise, dropping all three of the wards.

  “Alissa?” His voice was thick with smoke, and she shivered. “Forget it. . . .”

  There was something very much like a ward, but it was fuzzy, just like her head. She couldn’t really see it, and for some reason she didn’t want to. Talon screeched and flew away. Her outraged cry brought Alissa back to her senses. “Forget what?” she asked.

  Useless settled back, sighing contentedly. “I don’t recall. What were we talking about?”

  “Um, my shoes?”

  “I thought it was tea.”

  “Tea?” Alissa repeated. “M-m-m. I’ll go make some.”

  “No.” Useless caught her arm before she could rise. “Like I said, forget it.”

  “All right.” She resettled herself. Something wasn’t quite right. “Beast?” Alissa called.

  “I don’t know,” her feral consciousness whispered, clearly unnerved.

  “Alissa?” Useless murmured, and she looked up to see him frowning. “Would you explain something to me? It’s been bothering me all week.”

  She waited, more than a l
ittle worried.

  “Your easy companionship with Lodesh,” he said. “How . . . It seems as if—” He took a steadying breath. “How could you forgive him so easily?”

  “Oh.” Alissa stared into the fire, wanting some tea to hide behind. “Withdrawing my friendship won’t punish him nearly so well as he punishes himself.”

  Useless’s face went long. “I don’t see him suffering.”

  Alissa reluctantly turned to him. “I told Lodesh that I loved Strell.”

  “He knew that,” Useless said with a touch of belligerence.

  “I also told Lodesh that—that I love him, too.” Alissa looked away, wishing she hadn’t had to admit it out loud. It had to be wrong; loving two men at once.

  “That’s not suffering,” Useless contended irately. “That was the Warden’s goal.”

  She found the strength to meet his eyes. “Yes, and he achieved his goal at a brutal cost.”

  Useless placed his hands in his lap. It was a student’s position. Clearly he didn’t understand. “You will have to speak very plainly, Alissa.”

  Struggling for words, she bent her attentions to fixing her lace. “Lodesh sets a great store by honor and morality. He uses it to define his worth?” she said slowly, and Useless nodded. “By his standards,” she said, “what he did to win my heart made him unworthy to have it.”

  “Ashes,” Useless breathed, his eyes widening in understanding. “He lost what he won by the way he won it. And this is why there’s no animosity between the Piper and the Warden?”

  Nodding, Alissa tucked the ragged end of her shoelace behind the top of her shoe. “Mostly. Before, Lodesh felt no competition because he was going to outlive Strell, picking up where he left off when Strell was gone. Strell had already won my, er, my affection, and felt confident all he had to do was convince you to let us, uh, to sanction—Ashes, Useless. This is embarrassing.”

  He gave her a weary look, and she took a breath to continue. “Now Lodesh feels unworthy to pursue his claim; Strell isn’t allowed to.” She shrugged. “You won’t let either one of them wed me, and their friendship has only strengthened over their shared frustrations.”

  Useless snorted and she flushed. “And Connen-Neute,” she rushed to fill in the silence, “is happy just to have two companions who aren’t hounding him on proper Master behavior.”

  “M-m-m . . .” It was a distant, deep-in-thought sound.

  “And I’m stuck in the middle,” she blathered. “Terribly glad I don’t have to make a decision between them any-more—seeing as neither one of them can court me.” Biting her tongue, she wondered if she had said too much. She felt Useless’s eyes fixed upon her, and she winced. Yes. She had said too much.

  It was at that sticky moment that Talon returned, scattering the sparrows like leaves. There was a mangled junco in her grip; winter was coming. Alissa fussed and cooed over Talon’s kill, much to the bother of Useless. “What a wonderful catch!” she praised, and the bird puffed in pride. “But you know, I’m not particularly hungry.”

  Useless harrumphed. Alissa’s empty middle had been making itself known since she had joined him. Undeterred by her claims, Talon tossed it at Alissa. “No,” she said, picking it up with two careful fingers and placing it before Talon. “Why don’t you give it to—to Strell.” Strell was always a good distraction, even when he wasn’t about.

  Talon snatched the carcass up and leapt into the air. Alissa watched the bird dart over the garden wall, holding her breath as she realized Talon was taking it to Strell!

  “Uh, excuse me, Useless?” Alissa stood and edged out of the firepit. “I think I know how to find Strell at least.”

  “What?” Useless’s golden eyes went wide. “Wouldn’t you rather learn a new ward?”

  Her jaw dropped as it occurred to her that she had been tricked. “You’re distracting me. They’re out with Connen-Neute!” she exclaimed, tearing her eyes from Talon. Not wanting to lose the bird, Alissa shifted. The thump of Redal-Stan’s watch hitting the ground sounded loud, and she snatched it up, placing it on her ridiculously long raku finger as a ring.

  “Alissa. Wait!”

  “Is it a surprise for me?” Excited, she hesitated.

  “Ah . . .”

  “Bye, Useless,” she said as she leapt into the air. Beast slipped into control, as welcoming as the warmth of the sun.

  “Burn you to ash, student! Wait!”

  Alissa felt Useless shift, but she wasn’t about to wait. She continued to circle, gaining altitude. Once she was high enough, she spotted a plume of smoke. Not smoke really, but a tiny updraft caused by a small fire using dry wood. A mental search showed only Connen-Neute.

  “She’s coming, Connen-Neute,” she heard Useless mutter in her thoughts. “I tried.”

  Alissa’s breath came faster. It was a surprise! Angling sharply, she dived into a good-sized clearing. She shifted, barely seeing the three men frantically shove unidentified lumps out of sight under blankets and into baskets. By the time she completed her shift, Connen-Neute had seated himself, looking as if he had never moved. Talon chittered a welcome from his shoulder, and Lodesh and Strell stood about looking guilty. “Hello!” she cried cheerfully, slipping her watch into her pocket. “What are you doing?”

  Connen-Neute shut his eyes, pretending to nap. Lodesh jostled Strell’s elbow. “Uh, hey, Alissa.” Strell rocked back and forth on his heels. “What brings you out here?”

  “Talon.”

  Lodesh frowned. “I told you we should have locked it up.”

  Talon squawked, and Connen-Neute reached to soothe her.

  There was a whoosh of air as Useless alighted with far more grace than she had shown. Keeping to the outskirts, he shifted to his human form. His eyes upon Lodesh, he reached up with a long finger and rubbed the corner of his mouth. Alissa turned to see Lodesh mimicking him, wiping whatever it was off on the hem of his sleeve. Her eyes narrowed. “So . . .” She leaned to see the blanket-covered lump behind Strell. “Whatcha doing?”

  “Nothing,” Lodesh said. “Would you like a drop of tea? I just brewed it. Nice and hot.

  She eyed Strell sharply as Lodesh poured tea into one of his oversized cups.

  “Have some,” Strell offered too quickly. Ignoring the proffered cup, Alissa sniffed the air. Something had been burning. Nothing was over the fire now. In fact, it was all coals. Wary, she circled the camp, walking heel-to-toe, her new shoes crunching on the leaves. By the looks of it, they had spent the night out here—without her. “All right. What’s going on?”

  “Really, Alissa,” Strell pleaded, stepping away from the bump under his blanket. “I can promise it’s nothing you would—”

  Darting around him, Alissa flicked the blanket up to find—

  “Oh, how awful!” she cried, appalled as she stared down at the dripping spit of roasted meat. From behind Connen-Neute came the tiny, plaintive, ba-a-a-a-a of an out-of-season lamb. Her hands found her hips, and she glared. “You cooked its mother?”

  Lodesh and Strell exchanged looks. “Um, we have a present for you,” Strell said. “Alas,” he said with an unconvincing sigh, “you found us out.” Cringing at her look of disbelief, he knelt by Connen-Neute. “Give me the baby sheep,” he whispered, and Connen-Neute frowned. “Give me the stinkin’ baby sheep!” Strell growled.

  From the corner of her sight, Alissa could see Useless struggling to keep from laughing. She didn’t see anything funny. Connen-Neute pursed his lips, and with death practically shooting from his eyes, he reached behind him and pulled the lamb from a basket.

  Strell rose, cradling the squirming sheep close. It swung its head to hit him in the chest. Its tiny black hooves kicked ineffectively. Despite her efforts, her anger softened, driven away by the sight of the helpless thing.

  “We found this wee youngster in the hills last night.” Lodesh stepped forward. “His soft gentleness and mild countenance brought you instantly to mind.”

  Alissa’s eyebrows rose, and Useless cough
ed to cover a guffaw. Undeterred, Lodesh continued. “And as its mother had tragically been struck down by—who knows what?—we all thought who better than you to raise it?”

  “Tragically struck down?” Alissa said sourly, and Strell edged his tall frame to block her view of the steaming carcass.

  “That,” Lodesh said grandly, “is my tale, milady, and I am holding myself to it.”

  She pointed at the carcass. “And what is that?”

  “A funeral pyre,” Strell blurted, and Useless turned away, shaking in silent laughter.

  The lamb continued to squirm, nearly escaping Strell as he wasn’t holding it properly. “Oh, here,” she said, taking it from him impatiently. “You have it all wrong.” The tiny thing gave a final lunge for freedom, then settled in her arms. The scent of sheep dung, asters, and mud rose to fill her world, bringing with it memories of long afternoons of sun, and wind, and open fields—and home. Tears welled up as she buried her nose in the prickly warm wool.

  “Oh, Alissa.” Strell touched her shoulder, and she shook her head, sealing her emotions away.

  “I can’t believe you were going to eat this little bit of a thing,” she said indignantly.

  “We weren’t going to eat him,” Connen-Neute said. “Not until we fattened him up first.”

  The palm of Lodesh’s hand hit his head with a resounding smack and he turned away. Strell shifted uncomfortably. Talon abandoned Connen-Neute for Useless.

  Alissa cuddled Connen-Neute’s snack closer. “I have only one thing to say about this.” Her foot nudged the charred carcass. “Go ahead,” she said, and Strell and Lodesh exchanged a worried glance. “Eat it,” she continued. “Eat a flock of them. Just don’t cook it in my kitchen.”

  Lodesh’s breath eased from him in contentment as he crouched beside it. “Thanks, Alissa,” he said, taking up his knife to cut a slice. Strell watched from unsure eyes, not moving.

  “But believe me,” she said, and everyone froze. “I will not allow anyone’s lips to touch mine that have touched anything remotely similar to—to this!” She gave the roasted meat a final push with her toe and turned away, her cheeks burning for having put it so brazenly.