FORBIDDEN TALENTS (29 page)

If she stayed here in her little room alone, she would die of the boredom. She wasn’t used to being idle.

An image of Ragni came to mind, laughing at her for torturing herself with
“
what-ifs
”
and
“
maybes
”
when Kaidlin had asked her to perform an important but unfamiliar task.
“
You’re a strong and capable woman,
”
he’d said.
“
You ran your father’s house until your brother married, and my sister doesn’t invite incompetents to join her ladies. Nor would I fall in love with one. Choose. Act. And in the unlikely event that you do make a mistake, I will still love you.
”

Oh, Ragni
. She’d made a huge mistake keeping her mother’s scrying tools.
Do you still love me, even now
?

Saeun shook herself. Choose and act.
“
Well enough. My hosts have said I am welcome here. It’s time to test the honor of their word.
”
She stroked the living wood of the doorway.
“
Tell your friends I mean no harm.
”
Then she stepped out to explore.

The way twisted left and then split into three. She chose the left hand path, walking down the center of the hall to avoid the occasional roots that pushed out from the
“
walls.
”
She’d gone thirty steps and passed two more curtains of moss when the corridor bent right and split into three again. She hesitated. Distant voices raised in song pulled at her heart. They tempted her from the center way, but she knew she should stay to the left to be able to find her way back. Who knew how many convoluted hallways lay between her and the singers?

She followed the voices. Saeun carefully noted the twists and turns. Finally she found the singers standing in a hall framed by woven trees, open to the cloudless sky.

Five Elves stood with hands linked and eyes closed. Their long hair fell down their backs while their voices rose in a blended song that choked her throat with tears.

They sang of wandering in the twilight between the worlds, and of Alarien, an Elf maiden who passed into Midgard. The Elves had nearly all left that place, but she wanted to see the world her elders had known. No sooner had she arrived than she beheld Rainbow and fell in love. The singers’ voices soared as Rainbow wrapped Alarien in a mantle of glory, fed her on sunlight and mist, then fell to a throbbing ache when he could not hold her in his arms. Dazzled by him, Alarien traveled too far from her home, looking for the place he rested his head, searching for where his foot trod. The song ached with grief and loss. She wandered still, always searching for her love, lost to Alfheim, never to return.

Saeun listened and wept. When the singers fell silent, she sniffed, the sound breaking the silence.

Almost as one, they turned.

“
I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.
”

The woman who had sung Alarien’s part walked over to her. Valender must have spread the word because neither she nor the others assumed a glamour. She was stunningly beautiful, as they all were, and tall. Her exotically tilted eyes were the dark blue of a deep mountain pool.
“
You weep.
”

Saeun wiped at the tears tracking her cheeks.
“
I can’t help it. Your song was so beautiful, and so sad. Her family lost her forever because she wanted what she could never have.
”

The Elf’s eyes widened.
“
You understand.
”

“
Yes.
”
She’d lost everything because she’d been afraid to lose what she shouldn’t have had in the first place. Her magic. Ragni. Oh, yes, she understood.

“
The young so often do not. I am Rien. Alarien was my damma’s sister. Today is the anniversary of her loss, nine hundred, twenty-four winters gone. We mourn her with our song.
”

Nine hundred, twenty-four years. A long time to mourn
.
“
Please forgive me for intruding on your grief. I’ll leave you now.
”

Rien regarded her with bottomless blue eyes.
“
You may remain, if you wish.
”
Then she turned and rejoined the others without waiting to see if Saeun stayed or left.

The Elves began singing again. Saeun stayed and listened, laughing at the song that next honored Alarien’s spirit, weeping again at another that clearly conveyed the gaping hole she’d left in the hearts of those who knew her. She left quietly midway through the next, unable to take in any more of the Elves’ grief.

She took the left hand way at the first turning, then followed the next twist to the right, glad she’d paid careful attention to her path.
Nine hundred years. Is loss so rare an event among the Elves that they nurture their grief
? Their songs were more than a memorial. They ripped the wound open to bleed anew.
Perhaps their hearts are stronger than ours. They must be. Their long lives force them to carry their loss far longer than I could bear
. Her mother had been dead these five years, feasting with Baldur. A blink of an eye, by Elf standards. The pain had faded, but Saeun still missed her. Would
still
miss her in nine hundred years if she lived that long.

As she would Ragni.

Her heart clenched like a fist. He was as good as dead to her, never to be seen again. Never to hear his teasing, or feel his touch again. It would be nine times nine hundred years before she forgot him. She was glad she was only mortal, with a mortal’s short span of years.

She stopped. The corridor didn’t look familiar. She could still hear the singing, so she retraced her steps. Or thought she did.

The hall with the singers wasn’t where she expected to find it.

She could call out, but she didn’t want to disturb Rien and the other mourners.

“
I need a guide,
”
she murmured.

Two eyes opened in one of the twisted trunks across the hall from her, blinking sleepily. Saeun took a step back and steadied herself with a hand against the wall. These were different from those that shared her room. Older.

Saeun pulled in a deep breath.
“
I’m lost. Would you help me find my room again? Please?
”

The eyes blinked. Then looked down the left hand corridor.

“
This way?
”
Saeun gestured in that direction.

They blinked again.

Saeun curtsied as she would to honor someone of great age, then sidled away.
“
Thank you.
”

At the next juncture a different pair of eyes opened and looked their guidance. And the next. It was almost like a game, until an uncomfortable thought occurred to her.
“
Do you watch me all the time, or only when I ask for your help?
”

The gray gaze at this crossroads just stared at her unblinking.

“
Please don’t think me ungrateful. I appreciate your help very much. I’m just not accustomed to being watched all the time.
”
The gray eyes closed.

Oh, no
! They hadn’t shown her which way to go yet.
“
Please come back. I need your help.
”

The eyes opened again.

“
Thank you,
”
she said, as they pointed the way.

At last she was back in familiar territory. When she rounded the last corner to approach her room, she saw that Treskin was waiting for her.

*

By afternoon the weather had cleared as if in blessing. Ragni joined the others who were going on the Spirit Walk in one of the private courtyards. There would be ten of them going on the quest. Che’veyo and Tiva’ti would be accompanied by the Tewakwe warriors Tocshe and Masale. Magnus was sending Rovdir along to guard Utta, and Fender would escort Celia. The armsman Brol would go along as well, partly for additional security, but especially because of his Talent as a Weather Watcher. They gathered in a circle cleared of snow around a design drawn with sacred corn meal on the stone pavers by the Tewakwe Shaman. Magnus and the other Jarls stood back against the walls of the courtyard, observing but not participating.

Ragni hadn’t been asked to assist Che’veyo with this ceremony. Wirmund accepted the political necessity of Ragni’s passive participation, but Dahleven had been offended on his behalf, until he’d explained, saying,
“
The Tewakwe called for this Spirit Walk, Dahl. I have to be there, but it should be their ceremony. Besides, it gives me a better vantage to see Che’veyo in action.
”

No animosity stood between Ragni and Che’veyo, only an acknowledgment that each priest knew best the way to address his gods. Wirmund wasn’t present. As his Second, Ragni represented Baldur’s priesthood without Wirmund seeming to give too much approval to the pagan Tewakwe rites.

The Shaman stood in the center of the circle with the two Tewa leaders, Dahleven, and Gudrun. He lit a long pipe and blew the smoke into the sky. Che’veyo passed it to each of the leaders and then around the circle. Ragni felt Celia’s distaste, but she puffed on the pipe when it came to her, then passed it on to him without making a face or coughing. Ragni drew softly on the stem. The flavor was spicy, and he savored it a moment before blowing a smoke ring heavenward. A Tewa warrior beat a pulsing rhythm on a drum. The Tewakwe all lifted their feet in time with the drum, and soon Ragni and the other Nuvinlanders were doing the same.

When each participant had smoked, Che’veyo began to chant as he used the glowing dottle to kindle a flame in the center of the circle.

“
Haliksa’i!

Hear us, Sotuknang!

Hear us, Tiowa!

Hear us, Spider Grandmother!

Haliksa’i!
”

Che’veyo paused and blew another puff of smoke skyward.

“
Hear us!

We are pure of heart

Bringing prayers and offerings.

Hear us!

Our
kopavi
are open.

Hear us!

Accept our gifts.

Hear us!

Bless our quest.

Hear us!

Guide our steps.
”

His voice rose and fell with the rhythm of the drum. Ragni felt as though his pulse were keeping time.

The Shaman moved around the circle, handing two carved and painted prayer sticks to each of the Walkers, speaking softly with each. Che’veyo grinned as he handed Ragni his
pahos
.
“
I’m glad you’re here to lend us your strength, but will Baldur not be jealous if you share our prayers?
”

Ragni grinned back.
“
Baldur knows my heart, these prayers notwithstanding. May they rise and be heard swiftly.
”

His fingers tingled and grew warm as he accepted the prayer sticks.
Lord and Lady
! It was an echo of the feeling he got when working a ritual. He glanced at Che’veyo, now speaking softly with Celia on his left.
He has real power
.

Celia stared wide-eyed at the sticks in her hands, though she still kept the drum’s rhythm with her feet. He felt a wave of awe roll from her.
I’m not the only one who feels it, then
. He opened himself, wondering if the others felt it too, but there was nothing more in their hearts than curiosity.

Che’veyo completed the circle and took up the chant again. At intervals he sprinkled dried herbs on the fire and wafted the sharp smelling smoke upward with the fanned wing of a great raptor. The Shaman’s mind and heart were completely focused on his petition, filled with a pure loyalty and honor.

Che’veyo raised his arms as he completed the fifth cycle of his chant. The drum stopped. Feet stilled. The absence of sound left Ragni feeling adrift. For the space of twenty heartbeats, nothing happened. Then down from the sky a redbird swooped, its crimson plumage startling as freshly spilled blood. It flew around the circle five times, then landed in front of the Shaman. After feeling the tingle of magic in the prayer sticks, Ragni wasn’t surprised that Che’veyo’s petition was answered, only that the response was so quick. He reached out with his Talent, curious if this was what the Shaman had expected. He wasn’t in the least surprised, but Dahleven and the other Nuvinlanders were.

Che’veyo lowered his arms and spoke to the bird.
“
Thank you for coming to our aid, Redbird. We value your assistance.
”
Then he placed additional prayer sticks in front of the bird.
“
Carry our prayers for us, if you will, to the gods.
”