Within the Sanctuary of Wings (The Memoirs of Lady Trent #5)

He bent his attention to the pebble. “My reasons were not noble.”


I was uncertain how to answer that, and words came reluctantly from my throat after so much talking. But Thu took my silence for a query, and went on. “I am the reason you came here. If I left the mountains with the news that you were dead—conveniently lost in an avalanche…”

His use of the word “convenient” called to mind all the suspicion that had greeted his initial appearance in Falchester. How many people had cautioned me that surely the Yelangese meant to lure me to my death? And lo, I died—or so he thought. “Tom and Suhail would have vouched for you,” I said. (Chendley as well, no doubt; I do not mean to slander him. But he was not at the forefront of my thoughts the way the others were.)

“Of course. But if Wilker had stayed, and I had gone with Chendley, neither of them would have been there to vouch.” He lost his grip on the pebble; it rattled away, and he bent to pick up another. “I knew it would look more honest if I helped to retrieve your body. I am sorry.”

“What do you have to apologize for?” I said in astonishment. “Had I been dead in truth, the last thing I would have wanted was for you to be blamed. It is only sensible that you should do everything you could to protect yourself; if I am upset, it is because such caution was necessary. And,” I said as an afterthought, “because you were forced to endure such a winter.”

This induced him to smile, as I had hoped. Then we sat in a more companionable silence, with me emptying the waterskin as fast as my stomach could accept it, while everyone girded themselves for the next peak to climb.

I do not mean Gyaptse or Cheja, of course. I mean the question of what we should do now.

With my voice somewhat restored, I explained to Suhail and Thu the plan I had agreed upon with the Draconeans, which had sent me toward the col that day. I did not go into a great deal of detail, such as explaining the council of elders; that was neither pertinent to the immediate question, nor a thing I felt I should share until we had decided whether the men would continue on into the Sanctuary or not. But they grasped the problem quite rapidly; and while they considered it, I turned once more to the Draconeans.

“What do you want me to do now?” I asked. “I can carry on more or less as we agreed; it will be easier now, with these two to help me out of the mountains. But they would be of much more help to me if they came to know your people, even if only briefly, before we departed.”

Suhail and Thu were talking quietly; Zam watched them with an untrusting eye. “You, we know. These two, we do not know.”

“They will not speak,” I assured her. “That is—I believe they will help me do what I planned.” Suhail certainly would. Thu might choose not to assist, but I was confident he would not work against me. “You trust me, and I trust them.”

Zam and Kahhe both looked unconvinced. Even Ruzt was dubious; she said, “You lived with us for months before you met the others. And then it was one human, not three.”

And three humans in the Sanctuary would cause more than three times the disturbance. At least I could be reasonably confident they would not attempt to hold the men hostage for my own good behaviour while I proceeded with my mission: that would be the worst of both worlds, introducing all the chaos of a human presence while also letting word of the Draconeans go into the outside world.

“Then we can continue on as planned,” I said. “Well—not immediately. It is far too late in the day to try and cross the col; we would be caught on the far side without sufficient light to descend safely. But we can camp for the night, and make our crossing tomorrow.”

I expected this to please Zam, who surely must be eager to see the back of us all. To my surprise, however, her scowl did not abate. Ruzt noticed this as well, and questioned her as to the reason.

“You want us to lie again,” she said.

Again? Understanding came, only a little tardy: as they had lied when they concealed me in their house. The elders had deferred judgment on the sisters’ transgression—if my mission turned out well, they could hardly punish those who made it possible—but they might not be so lenient if the sisters failed to report the arrival and departure of two more humans.

I spread my hands. “I will do whatever you decide. Take the time you require; this need not be something we settle in—” How did the Draconeans measure the hours of the day? It was not a thing I had learned yet, so I could not say “five minutes” or its equivalent. I paused, trying to think of a way to convey the concept; then I gave it up as not worth the effort, given the exhausted state of my brain. They seemed to understand me regardless, for Ruzt nodded, and the sisters began to converse amongst themselves once more.

When I turned back to my human companions, I found that Suhail had very quietly lost his composure. The novelty of the Draconeans could only hold back the tide for so long; now the impact of it struck him with full force, that I was not dead as he had believed. I sat wordlessly at his side and we gripped one another’s gloved hands hard, while Thu pretended he was very occupied in studying the springtime landscape of the Sanctuary.

There was no sound to warn me, for the wind was still blowing ferociously from the west—a profound blessing, as it turned out. I did not know what was happening until I saw Zam staring past me, up the slope toward the col, and I twisted to look.

A caeliger hovered in the air of the pass. Its position wavered from side to side, and I could not fathom what it was doing; why did it not advance? Was it searching for Suhail and Thu?

Then it suddenly veered off, almost into the upper slope of Cheja, and I understood.

Its pilot was trying to fly the craft through into the Sanctuary, but the winds were holding it back. The caeliger vanished behind Cheja, then reappeared; he was repeating his approach, once more pitting his engine against the headwind. I realized I was holding my breath. Then I realized I was holding it not because I hoped the pilot would make it safely through, but because I hoped he would not.

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