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BOOK: PROLOGUE
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"Yes, Your Highness."

"Ekkehard is young and foolish, snow woman," he added.” Take care of him."

"Come, we should go," said Sapientia sharply. Bayan went obediently. He did not even glance back. His husky, authoritative figure faded into the gloom alongside that of the princess. Hanna heard them continue talking although she could not make out their words.

Breschius lingered. He took her hand and drew her forward to stand before the altar.” Trust in God, friend Hanna." He made the sign of a blessing over her.

"I thank you, Brother. In truth, I feel afraid,"

He walked with her to the entry way, still holding her hand. His grasp felt comfortable, like a lifeline. Once they stood on the porch, beyond the most holy precincts, he bent his head to speak softly into her ear.” Never forget that a Kerayit princess has marked you as her luck."

The silence, and the secrecy, and the strange tone in his voice, like doom, made her shudder. Death had brushed her with its cold, callous hand.

They left in the cold light of dawn, Hanna, Prince Ekkehard, his six noble companions, and the twenty other heretics, excommunicates all. Sixteen of them marched, since Bayan did not care to lose so many horses.

Frost made the ground icy, a thin crust that hooves and boots crushed easily. As they crossed the western bridge, Hanna looked back to see Lord Dietrich's head stuck on a pike above the gate. After that, she could not bring herself to look back again. Ivar was probably dead anyway. Looking back would not bring him to life. She kept her gaze fixed on Ekkehard's banner, fluttering weakly in a lazy wind. The rain that had followed them for so long had passed. They rode out in cold, hard weather with the sun glaring down and not a feather's weight of warmth in it.

Hanna had not even been given leave to say farewell to her friends among the Lions. Ekkehard's escape had an unsavory air about it, tainted by Lord Dietrich's ghastly death and the threat of excommunication.

They saw no sign of Quman scouts.

It seemed an inauspicious way to ride out.

VIII ALAIN pushed through the crowd now arguing and lamenting in the council house. Once outside, he whistled the hounds to him and ran to the small house, marked by various charms, chimes, and wreaths, that belonged to Adica. She never went in, or out, without making certain gestures at the threshold, and certainly he had not seen a single person from the village enter this hut. But if their gods, or their council, meant to strike him down, they could do it later.

Inside, he stowed the leather bundle with her precious items inside a wooden chest for safekeeping. He grabbed one of her sleeping furs and hurried outside, where the hounds waited.

Sorrow and Rage weren't alone. Half the village had followed him, although they hadn't come inside; the other half waited uneasily outside the council house.

As the hounds sniffed the fur, Kel stepped forward as if to speak, but Beor thrust him aside and set his spear against Alain's chest. The bronze blade gleamed wickedly. Alain grasped the haft of Beor's spear. The other man was stronger, with a bear's muscular bulk, but Alain was on fire.

"Move aside," he said in his own language, staring him down.” If we go quickly, we may still be able to follow their trail and get Adica back. If they meant to kill her at once, they'd have done so, but if they took her, it means we have a little time at least. For the sake of God, do not hinder me."

A strange expression passed across Beor's face. Behind him, villagers murmured to each other. Beor stepped back hesitantly.

"I go," said Alain, groping for words.” I find Adica."

Mother Orla spoke. Instantly, several folk ran off into the vil-j lage.

Kel jumped forward, carrying now a bronze knife in addition to the bronze spear he had taken off the corpse of the dead invader.” I go!" he cried triumphantly.

"I go," said Beor abruptly.

Belatedly, a dozen other adults volunteered, but a large party could not move in haste and secrecy.” Kel." Alain paused, then nodded sharply.” Beor. We go."

Quickly, they made ready. Alain wished keenly for his knife and sword, but he didn't know where Adica had hidden them, and there wasn't time to look. Instead, he accepted a bronze knife. Mother Orla's errand runners brought rope, waterskins full of mead, a wooden tube lined with fired ceramic and filled with hot coals, and a pungent supply of dried fish, wayfarer's bread, and a bundle of leeks. Both Beor and Kel had wood frames to sling on their backs, fitted with a leather sack for carrying these provisions. Even this ! took precious time.

Alain led the hounds down to the birthing house. Urtan's daughter, following, showed him the scuffed ground where the altercation had taken place; by means of signs and mime, she showed him what she had seen from the watchtower at the gate. Urtan and his companions had run up to Adica and Tosti moments before a group of at least twenty raiders had come running down from the tumulus. They had split into two groups, one to harry the village and one to capture the Hallowed One, Adica.

The hound sniffed the ground and, at a command from Alain, trotted away toward the tumulus, following a trail only they could perceive. Alain followed at a jog, with Kel and Beor at his heels. The villagers gathered like mourners at the gate, watching them go. Then, prudently, the gate was swung shut. The half-finished outer palisade looked flimsy from this height. He saw a scrap of color fallen in the ditch: a corpse.

Who were the raiders who had struck? Why did they look like relatives of Prince Sanglant? Everyone knew that no Aoi roamed the Earth any longer—not unless they were shades, caught in a purgatory between substance and shadow. Why did they want Adica?

Beor and Kel could probably answer these questions, but he had no words to ask. He could only pursue.

He expected the hounds to lead them to the stone circle, but they cut away at the highest ring of earthworks and padded along in the shadow of the twisting serpent of earth until, at the eastern edge, they scrambled downslope.

There, most of the way down the eastern slope, stood a stone lintel, the threshold of a passageway that led into the great hill. Kel moaned with fear as the hounds sniffed at the opening. A long-dead craftswoman had carved into the left-hand pillar a humanlike figure wearing the skin and antlers of a stag. Beside the yawning opening lay an offering of flowers, wilted now, scuffed by the passage of animals and wind. A deer had left droppings where it had paused to investigate the flower wreath, and the hounds became enamored with this fascinating reminder of its passage.

Beor knelt. When he rose, he displayed a scale of bronze that might have fallen from armor. Alain searched to make sure they hadn't missed any other sign of the raiders' passage. A stone had fallen from the hillside and now rested among faded cornflower blossoms. Tansy had found a foothold in a hollow off to one side, where water collected. That was all.

Sorrow barked and vanished into the passage. Kel had gone quite pale, as though painted with chalk. Beor only grunted, but he had a fierce grin on his face as he looked toward Alain as if to see if the other man were brave enough to continue on.

No matter.

A half-dozen torches lay ready, stacked neatly inside the threshold. Alain caught a spark in the pitch-smothered head. Flame blazed up. With his staff skimming the ground ahead to test for obstacles and a second unlit torch thrust between his belt and tunic, he followed Sorrow into the passage.

Beor and Kel exchanged words, soon muffled by stone. Alain had to crouch to move forward. Ahead, he heard Sorrow snuffling and panting. The torch bled smoke onto the corbeled ceiling. Hazy light revealed carvings pecked into the stones that lined the passageway: mostly lozenges and spirals, but here and there curious sticklike hands which reached toward four lines cut above them. Such symbols of power betrayed the presence of the old gods, but he wasn't afraid of them. They had no power over those who trusted to the Lady and Lord.

The ceiling sloped up, and the thick stone walls rose higher and higher until he walked, unexpectedly, into a great chamber. A stone slab lay on the ground in the center of this chamber. Sorrow sniffed impatiently around it, as though he smelled a rat.

Alain held up the torch as Beor cautiously stepped into the chamber behind him, spear held ready for battle. Rage padded in his wake. There was no sign of Kel.

The high corbeled ceiling arched up into a darkness the hazy torchlight could not reach. Opposite Alain, and to either side, lay niches, each alcove carved with the representation of an ancient queen.

Here, deep in the womb of stone and earth, not even the wind could be heard. But someone was watching them.

"Where is she?" Alain demanded of that unseen presence.

The torch whuffed out as though a gust of wind had extinguished it. One moment, it hissed and threw smoky light all around them. The next, it was too black to see, and he smelled the scent of burning pitch curl and die away until all he smelled was earth and damp and cold, and the comforting aroma of dog. Beor swore under his breath, more prayer than oath.

Then even those sensations were gone, and Alain could no longer feel or hear anything, not the breathing of the hounds, not the stone itself beneath his feet. He was alone except for a shuddering, wheezing sigh that breathed in and out around him, as though the hill itself was a living creature, half asleep and half aware.

"Where is she?" he called again. The vision hit like a blast of light, searing his eyes.
Three queens stand before him, one to the north, one to the south, one to the west.

"Whoareyou, to make demands of us?" cries the youngest. She holds in her hand a bow whose length runs writhing with gold salamanders, burning like fire. Her tomb is carved with two sphinxes. Their clever faces, as much feline as woman, gleam as though touched by phosphorus.

"Who are you, holy one?" She is no saint known to the blessed Daisan, but he can respect her nevertheless, for she is a woman of power even if she is dead.

Her voice rings through him with the fierce clamor of a thunderstorm.” I am the one called Arrow Bright. Have you not heard of me? Was I not fostered by the lion women of the desert, who taught me the secret ways known only to the Pale Hunter?"

"There is much I do not know,” he admits.

"What do you want?" asks the second queen, standing to the south. Her tomb glows with gold beaten into the shape of a sow, and she has herself the ample outlines of a prosperous woman, sleek and radiant.

"What do you want?" Only a rash man states his true purpose before he knows what he is facing.

She laughs.” I am Golden Sow. It was my magic that made all the women of my tribe fertile, and all their children healthy. Is this not what all people want?"

"How is it that death has marked you, and yet you stand living?" asks the third queen. Her voice has a rasp that makes his skin crawl. Her cairn stands to the west, opposite the passageway. More primitive than the others, it consists of a simple mound of discolored stones like so many worn teeth that once belonged to a creature so vast that each tooth was as big as an adult's head. She is ancient, and toothless, but her eyes are as brilliant as stars.

"How do you know I am living ? " he retorts.

"Only living things suffer desire," retorts Toothless in kind.” What can you give us in return for an answer?"

He laughs.” I have nothing to give you, for I came naked to this place."

"Do not say you have nothing," scolds Golden Sow.” You have youth and vitality. You have life.”

"You are untouched, still whole,” says Arrow Bright.” You are a virgin, as are all those sworn to the Pale Hunter's service."

"It is not the Pale Hunter I serve," he says, as respectfully as he can, for it would not do to insult queens of such power, especially since they are dead.

"You serve the Lady, as do we all." Toothless moves a step closer. The scent of the grave wafts from her as her cape, woven of grass, stirs in an unfelt wind.” The Lady commands both life and death."

"Then I am in Her hands.” He bows his head under the weight of a greater presence looming beyond, an effortless stillness that pervades the chamber and, swelling, expands to fill the entire universe.

Toothless laughs.” Let it be witnessed.”

"I know where she went,” says Arrow Bright suddenly, "but it is the way of this place that no thing can be given without an offering pledged in return."

He will give them anything, if only it brings Adica back to her village. He has lost so many; he will not lose her, too.” What do I have that you want? I came naked

BOOK: PROLOGUE
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