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The red at the center did look like blood against the sea-colored petals of the ba
“I knew we would find one today,” said Ysa
“Why did you say you’d been waiting for me?” They were in the front room of Ysa
Ysa
“I dreamt you,” the Seer said. “Many times. That is how I see such.things as I do see. Which have grown fewer and more clouded of late. You were clear, though, hair and eyes. I saw your face.”
“Why, though? What am I, that you should dream of me?”
“You already know the answer to that. From the crossing. From the land’s pain, which is yours, child. You are a Seer as I am, and more, I think, than I have ever been.” Cold suddenly in the hot, dry summer, Kim turned her head away.
“But,” she said in a small voice, “I don’t know anything.”
“Which is why I am to teach you what I know. That is why you are here.”
There was a complex silence in the room. The two women, one old, the other younger than her years, looked at each other through identical grey eyes under white hair and brown, and a breeze like a finger blew in upon them from the lake.
“My lady.”
The voice abraded the stillness. Kim turned to see Tyrth in the window. Thick black hair and a full beard framed eyes so dark they were almost black. He was not a big man, but his arms on the window sill were corded with muscle and ta
Ysa
Tyrth met her eyes for an instant only, then an awkward hand brushed at the thick hair tumbling over his forehead. “I’ll do a proper bed then. But in the meanwhile, I’ve seen something you should know of…”
“The wolves?” Ysa
“I don’t like it,” Tyrth muttered. “There haven’t been wolves this far south in my lifetime. Big ones, too. They shouldn’t be so big.” And turning his head, he spat in the dust of the yard before touching his forehead again and walking from the window. As he moved away Kim saw that he limped, favoring his left foot.
Ysa
“How?”
Ysa
The waning moon rose late, and it was full dark when the two women made their way beneath it to stand by the edge of the lake. The breeze was delicate and cool, and the water lapped the shore gently, like a lover. Over their heads the summer stars were strung like filigree.
Ysa
Ysa
“Hear me, Eilathen!” she cried. “Hear and be summoned, for I have need of you, and this is the last time and the deepest. Eilathen damae! Sien raba
Kim felt the wind die. Beside her, Ysa
And then something exploded into motion in the middle of the lake. A spi
Unbelieving, she watched it come towards them, and as it did so, the spi
Long sea-green hair lay coiled about his shoulders, and his eyes were cold and clear as chips of winter ice. His naked body was lithe and lean, and it shimmered as if with scales, the moonlight glinting where it fell upon him. And on his hand, burning in the dark like a wound, was a ring, red as the heart of the flower that had summoned him.
“Who calls me from the deep against my desire?”
The voice was cold, cold as night waters in early spring, and there was danger in it.
“Eilathen, it is the Dreamer. I have need. Forgo your wrath and hear me. It is long since we stood here, you and I.”
“Long for you, Ysa
“I would not send down the fire without a cause, and tonight marks your release from guardianship. Do this last thing for me and you are free of my call.”
A slight stir of wind; the trees were sighing again.
“On your oath?” Eilathen moved closer to the shore. He seemed to grow, towering above the Seer, water rippling down his shoulders and thighs, the long wet hair pulled back from his face.
“On my oath,” Ysa
“And the task?” Eilathen’s voice was colder than ever, more alien. He shimmered before them with a green dark power.
“This,” said Ysa
“Now I know,” he said to the Seer. “Now I understand.” And a thread that might have been respect had woven its way into his voice.