Swords Over Fireshore (39 page)

Rephanin offered her the smell of the water, the calls of the gulls. She embraced them, and he could feel her wonder. She had forgotten to be afraid, and in so doing had moved into a deeper bond. He remained still, open to her exploration, ready to withdraw if she became uncomfortable.

How beautiful. Thank you.

Rephanin smiled, knowing she would feel it. Instead of using words, he sent the thought of welcomeness to her, in all its shades of meaning.

“Oh!”

Suddenly she was gone. Not with the violence of her earlier reaction, but with a swiftness and finality that left Rephanin breathless. He opened his eyes and saw her hugging herself, rocking slightly.

“Too close? Forgive me.”

She looked at him and ceased rocking. She swallowed, sniffed.

“I ought to get used to it. You are right, we have to trust....”

“We have time. No need to hurry.”

“Th-thank you.”

She looked down to where his hand still lay, then laid her own over it. The physical contact brought their khi together. Rephanin returned the clasp lightly, and was unsurprised when she immediately withdrew. She reached for her cup and tossed back the remaining wine.

“More?” He picked up the ewer.

“No.” She glanced sharply at him, then frowned at the cup. “Well, yes.”

“I pledge I will not attempt to seduce you.” Rephanin kept his voice light as he poured.

“It would take more wine than this.”

A jest. The first she had made all day. Rephanin put down the ewer and smiled as he watched her sip the wine. There was hope for their partnership, he thought, though he would have to treat her carefully.

“Would you like to try showing me a memory?”

She gazed at him, blinking. Not of him.

Very well. Make your own choice.

She thought for a moment, sipping her wine, then put down the cup. Rephanin watched her close her eyes, and closed his own when her vision began to intrude on him.

She showed him a river, the Silverwash, he thought, but broader than it was near Glenhallow, flowing lazily through a plain of grass. A stream joined it, and bushes grew along the stream's bank. These were the focus of the memory. They were heavy with goldenberries, and the smell of the juice came to him, sharp in his nostrils. Berry-picking, he realized, smiling.

Thunder came into the memory, not the thunder of a storm, but the rumbling of many hoof beats. A herd of horses was approaching. Rephanin was surprised to see no riders; they were wild on the plains, golden-coated, white-maned horses like those the Southfæld Guard preferred to ride.

They leaped across the stream, then splashed into the river with riotous noise, crossing it in a few bounds and galloping onward until they disappeared into the plain. The sound of their hooves faded until all that was left was the breeze stirring the grasses.

Rephanin smiled. Lovely.

Filari said nothing, though he sensed that she was pleased. The memory faded, leaving them alone together in silence. Sensing that she needed to be restful in this state, to feel at peace while sharing khi, he remained still, open, calm.

Thank you for the wine.

It was our host's doing, not mine, but of course you are welcome.

And thank you for your patience.

Rephanin smiled softly.
Thank you for yours. We shall find a balance.

She nodded, managing a smile. She withdrew with the odd twist of khi that was becoming her signature—a mental bow, a quaint formality. Rephanin thought it might be that she did this to complete the severance of contact, to declare for her own comfort that her solitude was absolute.

She stood and went to the door, carrying her cup with her. To his surprise, she paused and looked back at him.

“I will see you at supper.”

He nodded, smiling, and watched her go into her room. For the first time, he felt they had made true progress.

Dark had fallen and Eliani could no longer delay. She was loathe to leave Ulithan's cave, and fussed with her saddle packs, lashing and relashing them together so that they rested comfortably on her back. It mattered less than she affected, and at last she shouldered them and stood to take her leave.

Ulithan accompanied them out to the ledge and along it to where they had climbed up. The snow had retreated under a day's sunshine so that only the deepest drifts remained. The sky was clear and cold, glittering with starlight.

In that light Ulithan reminded her very much of the Lost, with his clothes of skin and fur, his white hair and black eyes. She turned to him and smiled.

“Thank you for your help, and for all you have shared with us.”

He smiled in return. “Thank you for your company. Your music.” He nodded to Vanorin. “I have enjoyed your visit.”

“Keep this knife, with our gratitude.”

She held out a sheathed belt knife, one of several that Dejhonan had sent from Bitterfield for the party's use just before their departure. It was a commonplace knife, a small tool and useful. Eliani knew that to Ulithan it would be a rare treasure, and she saw his deep appreciation in his eyes as he accepted it with a bow.

“Many thanks.”

“May we come again?”

“You must, for the scrolls. Come to the cave by the little falls on the Varindel. You saw them as you came up, yes?”

Eliani nodded, remembering the cave where they had sheltered Luruthin. She glanced at her cousin, but his face showed only patience and the strain of his hunger. He was silent of late, which she thought an ill sign.

“I will leave the scrolls in that cave, so that you need not climb all this way.”

“Then I shall not see you again?”

Ulithan smiled softly. “Not this season.”

Eliani nodded, accepting his wish to be left alone. Disappointing, but it was his path to choose and she must respect it. She shifted the packs on her shoulders.

“Well, I hope I may visit you again one day.”

“Perhaps you will bring your lord to meet me.”

“Yes. I know he would be honored.”

Ulithan's smile widened, and she had the feeling that he understood how very true were her words. She did know, for she had discussed it with Turisan, and Ulithan seemed to perceive this.

Eliani stepped toward the cliff and made to climb down, but was stayed by a touch on her arm. Vanorin stood beside her.

“Let me go first, my lady.”

“Is your ankle steady enough to find footing?”

“If it is not, I would not wish to fall upon you.”

He started down the cliff, and looked secure enough. Luruthin moved past Eliani to follow him. Left alone with Ulithan, she offered him her arm. After a slight hesitation he clasped it, his khi strong and deep as she remembered.

“Farewell.”

She could not help smiling with fondness, and Ulithan returned the smile as he released her and stepped backward. Eliani began to climb down, knowing that he stayed to watch her, that he would stay watching until they had passed out of his sight.

The climb seemed much shorter in calm weather than it had in the storm's fury, and in moments the three of them were standing together on the ledge where Vanorin had fallen. Ulithan had told them of a trail that led down to the river Varindel, which they easily found. Following this path they made much better progress than they had coming up through the woods, and before the night was half gone they had reached the little falls and the cave.

The snow was less deep here, only a handspan at most. They paused to drink from the pool, the icy water biting Eliani's hands and chilling her insides.

Vanorin stood upon the broad stone gazing up at the sky, no doubt calculating how much longer they could travel that night before seeking shelter. He sensed Eliani's gaze and met it, and she saw that he shared her concern. Luruthin must hunt, and soon.

Eliani glanced at her cousin, who had taken water from the pool and was now pacing its edge rather restlessly. She remembered bleeding into a cup for his sake, along with Vanorin, on this very rock.

“Luruthin...if we cannot find kobalen tonight—”

“No.”

Eliani pressed her lips together, then took a breath. “Only enough to get you through—”

“No!”

Anger flared in his eyes, making him look savage for a moment. He squeezed them shut and appeared to struggle briefly. When he looked at her again it was with her own kindred's affection.

“Thank you for your generosity, but no. I have no wish to....”

“We understand.” Vanorin glanced at Eliani, warning in his eyes. “We shall have to find kobalen, that is all. Are you ready?”

They started downriver once more, following the bank as they had done before. Soon the roar of the larger cascade reached them, first whispering at the border of hearing, then growing to a constant rumble.

Ice hung in long spikes from the snowy shore into the water, which must be piercing cold. Drifts of chill mist reached them from below. Luruthin's face was hard as he gazed down at the broken rocks in the pool.

“A bitter drop.”

Eliani took a step nearer to him and he turned his head to look at her. She slid her hand into his and gripped it. The prickling in his khi was much sharper now, unpleasant against her palm, but she kept her grasp and gently pulled Luruthin away from the falls.

“Watersmeet? The Steppes?”

Filari's brow furrowed with worry. Rephanin realized she must be thinking of Kelevon, who hailed from the Steppe Wilds.

Kelevon will not dare go near Watersmeet. Pashari would have his head.

Ehranan took a slice of meat from the platter between them. “The Steppes are closest to Fireshore. Communicating with them is more important than with Eastfæld at present. Governor Pashari will welcome you, be assured. I will give you a letter for her.”

Rephanin watched Filari, who had stopped eating and sat staring at her plate. None of these assurances seemed to comfort her, even his private one. He gave a slight cough.

“We have not yet tested Filari's ability to speak at distance.”

Ehranan raised an eyebrow. “You spoke from opposite ends of the column.”

“Less than a league apart.”

“Well, she must speak to you several times a day, then, to be sure that she still can.”

Rephanin stifled a sigh, and looked at the feast laid for them by the host. It had overflowed the table in the private room Ehranan had taken; several dishes waited atop the dresser, fated to be ignored. Rephanin selected a piece of apple and chewed it thoughtfully.

“She might reach Watersmeet faster if she rode.”

A horse would also gain her the attention and respect of the Steppegards. He knew Ehranan was aware of this.

“If there is a mount to be had at Waymeet, by all means.”

Rephanin looked at Filari, unsurprised to see that this did not cheer her.
It will not be so bad. At least you will be away from the army.

But you made me want to see the sea.

I ask your pardon.

The corners of her lips curved slightly at this. She sipped her cider.

Ehranan put down his knife and turned to her. “You will be doing a great service for all ælvenkind. Your sacrifice will not be forgotten.”

Filari colored deeply and looked down again. “Thank you, my lord.”

And you will not be in the Steppe Wilds forever.

A flicker of sadness went through her khi and was gone even before Rephanin recognized it. She raised her cup to sip again.

It will be better than home, no doubt.

A tragic thought. He could think of no answer. Centuries ago, he had felt the same way.