“That didn’t work on Arion before.”
“No, it didn’t. There are limitations. Avempartha allows me to see and hear and direct the Art over vast distances—just not all at the same time. I was able to find her; then I had to disengage and swing blindly. Locating her was difficult after she knew what was happening. If I had someone on the ground, someone right there in the thick of it who could send me updates and direct my attacks, combating Arion would be a simple matter. I just need someone I can work through…someone like you.”
“How could I do that?”
“That’s where the lesson comes in—that awful teaching part.”
“I don’t have time to learn—”
“Just as Gryndal knew how to see long distances, I know how to speak across leagues. I can show you right now how to hear me and then continue your education as you travel on toward Alon Rhist. By the time you arrive, you’ll be able to help me target Arion. Through you, I’ll be able to erase my mistake, and you’ll have your revenge. Then when you return, I’ll show you other things the next fane ought to know, things that will make you invincible in the Carfreign Arena.”
Mawyndul? found himself nodding.
“Beautiful sunrise, isn’t it?” Jerydd said.
Despite himself, Mawyndul? couldn’t disagree.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
House of Bones
Strange how life often delivers the worst with the best, the highs with the lows, happiness with sorrow, and joy with screams that haunt a person forever, making it impossible to sleep in a room with a window. Then again, that might just be me.
—THE BOOK OF BRIN
Despite the beautiful spring afternoon, Brin continued to glance nervously over her shoulder as she crossed the corbel bridge that connected the Verenthenon to the Kype. Memories of that damp hand clamping over her mouth continued to send chills through her.
Relax. Don’t struggle.
Brin had to tell someone.
She would have gone to her mother if that had been possible. Hearing her say that everything would be fine, while giving Brin a tight hug, was what she needed. Her mother was always good at that. But her mother was dead.
I have you now.
Brin banged on the door to the Kype, and the little window in the door slid back.
“I need to see Persephone,” Brin said.
The door opened. They knew her. She was the Keeper of Ways and had the run of the place by order of the keenig.
“She’s up on the high floor,” Elysan told her, jerking his thumb at the ceiling. The Fhrey closed and bolted the bronze door behind her, sealing out the sun.
Brin should have felt safer behind that heavily secured door. She didn’t.
Just need to get you back to the pile.
“Brin!” Persephone was all smiles when Brin poked her head into the meeting room. The keenig sat at one of four tables filled with chieftains and Fhrey, each wearing serious faces. This wasn’t a council meeting. They were held in the Verenthenon. But Persephone looked just as frustrated. Before Brin could say anything, the keenig was up and walking toward her.
“I don’t want to interrupt, I just—”
Persephone raised a hand, stopping her. Looking back at those in the room, the keenig said, “I’m sorry, you’ll have to excuse me a moment. Lipit, continue and I’ll be back in a few minutes.” With that, Persephone grabbed Brin by the hand and hauled her into the corridor.
She closed the door, threw her back against the wall, gritted her teeth, and began to bang her head against the stone.
“Seph!” Brin said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
Again, she held up a hand. “It’s not you. Trust me—I could kiss you for getting me out of there. I hate it when they bicker. The Gula think I’m trying to enslave their clans through a dependence on Rhulyn food; the Rhulyn chieftains are terrified because I’m making them farm while the Gula-Rhunes train. Our people are convinced the Gula will turn on us. And every day there are more reports of incidents, insults, and conflicts between Fhrey and Rhunes.”
Brin smiled. “I’m glad I missed it. Lately, all your meetings have been the same. Not really worth writing about. Even the council meetings have been pretty repetitive.”
Persephone took a deep centering breath. “Raithe was right for turning down the job.” She pushed herself off the wall. “Do you ever see him? Raithe, I mean?”
Brin looked puzzled. “Isn’t he in there right now?”
“No, this is primarily a discussion about clan grievances, and he doesn’t have much of either. He doesn’t even come to many of the council meetings anymore. But that’s not what I meant. I was referring to a more informal setting. One not based on official matters. Do the two of you talk?”
“Sometimes.”
“Does he seem all right?”
“I suppose.”
“What’s he been doing?”