The Rebellion (23 page)

“She lives,” I said softly.

“Praise be.” She grasped my hand.

“You … you know her?” I asked.

The crone nodded, mopping her eyes with the end of her bed dress. “Her name is Iriny, and she is … is very dear to me. I had feared her dead. Where is she? Is she in the city with your companion?”

Instantly, I regretted the impulse of pity that had made me tell the truth without thinking it through first. I could hardly lead them to the safe house. Yet this was the solution to my
problem of what to do with the gypsy woman, for clearly these people knew who she was and cared for her.

“She is in Sutrium,” I conceded, trying to decide how best to proceed. “She is very weak.”

“Dying?” the man asked abruptly.

“Not now. But she almost did. She seemed to want to die.”

“Ahh,” the old woman moaned, rocking herself back and forth. “My poor girl.” She fixed me with a sudden fierce stare. “Where is she? I must see her.”

“She is in good and healing hands.”

“You will take me to her now,” the man said, advancing with a threatening air.

“No!” Maire said. She looked back to me with frank entreaty.

“I will bring her to you,” I promised, ignoring the man and his threats.

“When?” he demanded.

“As soon as it is safe to bring her across the city,” I told him coldly. “The soldierguards are looking for me—and her. Tomorrow it will be worse because of the business in the market today.”

“That is so,” he said darkly, his eyes troubled. “Yet we Twentyfamilies are to leave Sutrium in three days.”

I blinked in wonder at him, for the Twentyfamilies’ departure from Sutrium coincided exactly with the end of the sevenday deadline. Was this, then, the reason for the deadline Maryon had set?

The gypsy took my silence for a question. “On the reckoning of our history, we began our journey to the Land on that very day eons past. It is our custom to always leave Sutrium in the final hours of that day in remembrance and as
a sign of good faith to the Council. You see, it was also on that day that we made the agreement of safe passage. We regard it as an auspicious day for journeys.”

“Yet I will remain until Iriny comes,” Maire said in a voice that brooked no argument.

He nodded. “And so shall I, if there is need. But the sooner we can get her out of the city the better, and it will be a simpler matter to get her out in a group than as a lone Twentyfamilies wagon leaving later than it should.” He gave me a sharp look. “I will organize a rumor to say that you and your companion have left the city with Iriny. It will not take long for the soldierguards to run after the scent and leave the city free. When this happens, bring her swiftly and safely to us, and I will reward you in good coin.”

“I’m not interested in your coin,” I snapped indignantly. “I did not save her life for coin, and I wouldn’t bring her to you if I thought you meant her harm, no matter what you offered.”

He looked genuinely taken aback, and indeed, I was surprised at the extent of my anger.

“He is a fool as all men are,” Maire said dismissively. “Put on the shirt.”

I did as she bid, turning my back to strip off the ripped shirt and don the other. When I was finished, she looked at me, then went to the wagon and brought back a bundle of clothing.

“What are these?” I asked as she put them into my arms.

“They are Twentyfamilies skirts and gewgaws. Wear them when you return, and no one will trouble you. But make sure it is night when you come. A dark night, if you can. And speak to no one, unless you cannot avoid it; especially avoid Twentyfamilies gypsies.” The old woman gave me an imperious
little push. “Go now,” she said. “Walk safe and bring her with you when you come again to us.”

A thought occurred to me like a burst of lightning on a dark night. “I don’t want coin as a reward, but there is something I would ask.…”

“Of course,” the gypsy said, his eyes flashing with triumphant cynicism.

“I want you to tell me all about Twentyfamilies gypsies and halfbreeds,” I said. “I want you to tell me how you came to the Land and everything you can remember about where you came from before that. And I want you to paint that mark you wear on my arm and tell me what it means and how you came to use it.”

The man looked at me in blank astonishment. “Only Twentyfamilies bear that mark.…”

Maire prodded his arm. “She knows that, fool. Can’t you see she means to pass herself off as one?”

The man’s eyes widened in disbelief. Then he gave me a narrow stare. “You would play a dangerous game, girl. Do you know that Twentyfamilies are by lore permitted to kill impostors?”

“How should anyone know me for an impostor with such marks and these clothes?”

He smiled. “I would know.”

I ignored that. “There is another thing. I also want to know about ‘swallow.’ ”

His brows shot up. “Who told you of Swallow? Did Iriny speak his name in her delirium?”

So Swallow was a person. I had not expected that. I ignored the question, because answering it would reveal the extent of my ignorance. Instead, I gave them both a challenging look. “Do you agree with my conditions?”

After a long tense moment, the man gave an unsmiling nod.

The old woman touched my hand. “Bring her safe to us and you shall have what you want. Better still, you shall meet Swallow if you wish it.”

The man made a negating gesture, then shrugged. “So be it. But do not bring Iriny here when you come.”

“Where, then?”

He frowned in thought. “Sometimes the best way to hide a leaf is in a forest. Do you know the main gypsy green?”

I nodded.

“Bring her there, then. That is where we will wait for you.”

I nodded and walked away down a lane without a backward glance. As soon as I was out of their sight, I threw a full coercive cloak about me and sent a farsense probe to detect anyone who followed.

Only then did I dare to relax and allow myself to feel relieved at having all but completed my appointed task.

With some effort, for I was not yet much recovered, I farsought Matthew using an attuned probe. It located him at the safe house, and I felt a surge of relief. Perhaps the streak of bad luck that had dogged us since leaving Obernewtyn was over.

17

I
ARRIVED BACK
at the safe house to see the rebel Reuvan mounting a tan mare. I was taken aback to recognize the horse as one that had come to Obernewtyn for refuge the previous wintertime.

“Greetings, ElspethInnle,” the mare sent, her dark-flecked eyes solemn.

“Greetings, Halda,” I responded, concealing my surprise.

Ever since Brydda’s beloved mount, Sallah, had chosen to remain with him after he set her free, animals would occasionally come to Obernewtyn claiming that Sallah had sent them and asking for Avra, mistress of the Beastguild. Most would remain only a short time, supposedly to be trained to live in the wild, before going out into the vast mountain wilderness.

Alad, the Beastspeaking guildmaster, was convinced that some were trained in a different sort of survival and sent back to Sallah. He believed she was the leader of a lowland arm of the Beastguild and a sort of animal network of spies, organizing their own rescues or sabotages.

I had thought this unlikely, but seeing Halda made me wonder, for she had been one of the equines who supposedly had gone into the wild.

Reuvan had not noticed my approach, so I coughed to get
his attention. When he turned, the flesh was bloodless beneath his tan.

“What is it?” I demanded, wondering if there was ever to be a moment in Sutrium unmarred by disaster.

“Idris is missing,” he answered in a hoarse voice. “Brydda sent me to see if he had come here.”

“Was he sent here?”

The seaman shook his head and took up the rein. “I must go. There are other places he might have gone if he was injured. Brydda asked me to try them all.”

“Can I help?” I asked.

Reuvan appeared not to hear me. He lifted his hand in a distracted farewell gesture and urged Halda on.

I hurried upstairs and into the kitchen.

“Where have you been?” Kella cried, jumping to her feet.

Matthew rose, too, his face pale and set. “Idris …”

I nodded wearily. “I know. I’ve just spoken to Reuvan. Did he ask you to farseek Idris?”

“It would ha’ done no good fer him to ask me to farseek anyone here. Too many minds an’ too much holocaust tainting.”

“But he would not realize that,” I said impatiently. “I suppose he was too distracted. I’ll try.”

I shaped a probe to Idris’s mind-set, but since I had never farsought him before, I did not know his exact mind signature, which meant it was not a strongly defined probe. Forced to compete with the miasmic static rising from the sea and the river, and from various areas of the city, I had no great hopes of locating him.

I opened my eyes and shook my head. “I didn’t find him, but I’m still weak from the business this afternoon.” In fact, though I did not say it, I felt as if all my energy were being siphoned
away through some secret channel. I forced myself to concentrate.

“Did Reuvan say how Idris disappeared?”

“Apparently, he dinna come back two nights ago from some errand he had been sent on,” Matthew said.

This puzzled me. Reuvan had seemed dreadfully upset considering Idris had been missing so short a time.

“Greetings, ElspethInnle,” Maruman sent.

The old cat was curled on a blanket beside the hearth. I went to kneel beside him and warmed my hands at the fire. “I am tired,” I sent.

He turned one flaring yellow eye to me, and for a fleeting moment, there was a mindless emptiness in it. Then his gaze sharpened. “You are tired because your body heals its hurts. This is a place/barud where there is much hurting. No matter. Soon we will leave.”

I stared at him. “What?”

“Soon we/you will go far away. Very far …” His eye was cloudy again. I felt a surge of alarm at the thought that the old cat was on the verge of another fit of madness. Yet he had recently returned from a period of wandering madness, and the attacks did not usually happen in such quick succession. Perhaps he was simply tired. Lud knew that could make you a little mad.

“I/Maruman am weary,” the cat sent as if to confirm my thoughts. “The H’rayka searches in the dreamtrails of ElspethInnle, and I have fought many battles to guard the way.”

Abruptly, I was wide awake.

“Maruman, who/what is H’rayka?”

“H’rayka is the one who brings destruction,” the cat sent.

I felt a rush of pure terror. Atthis had told me that if I did not find the weaponmachines and disable them, another
human, whose fate path twinned my own, would locate and activate them, raining a new doom on the world. She had called this person “the Destroyer.”

And now Maruman said a Destroyer was searching my dreams.

I had never considered that the Destroyer might be someone I would have to confront. I had seen our search for the weaponmachines as a sort of parallel race. Surely Atthis would have warned me if this person was hunting me.

Another possibility occurred to me. What if Maruman was trying to tell me that the Destroyer had begun searching not for me but for the weaponmachines? This seemed far more likely.

Suddenly I was more angry than scared. If the Destroyer
was
searching for the weaponmachines, why was I wasting time in Sutrium?

Why hadn’t Atthis called me?

“The oldOne called,” Maruman answered my despairing thought. “You do her bidding here in barud-li.”

I stared at him. “I do the bidding of Maryon/tallone.”

“Maryon/tallone hears the ashling of the oldOne/speaks the oldOne’s words to Innle.”

I struggled to stay calm. “Are you … are you saying Atthis sent a dream to Maryon to make me come to Sutrium?”

“A path forms itself like snow in the high valley of the barud,” Maruman sent dreamily. “First there is this piece of coldwhite and that piece, and they are alone and nothing. But soon they join and cover the earth.”

The obliqueness of his answer exasperated me, for past experience told me this was his way of indicating that he was sick of a subject. Any further questions would be met with increasingly obscure answers.