The other lands

Her expression while she said this was as firm as a na

The two moved away from the others, climbing the sloping stone, which was coarse underfoot, with granules that crackled and popped free beneath their weight. A flock of long, slim birds flew toward them over the hillocks to the northwest. They were black silhouettes against the reddening sky, until they dropped into shadow and stood out white against the deep green of the trees.

"Beyond here, the land is wild," Mor said. "The Westlands. It is not unpeopled. Just wild. Beautiful beyond measure. Before the Lothan Aklun arrived, the Auldek tribes had settled portions of it, but their inland cities are ruins now, their cultivated fields reclaimed by forest and jungle." Her voice had grown conversational in a way it had never been with him before. "The Auldek like to hunt us on their kwedeirs, but there are regions of Ushen Brae that even the hunting parties have never reached. The Auldek are powerful in their way, but they live only on a thin sliver of coastline, afraid of the sea on one side, with a wall against the continent on the other. They were satisfied with that."

"But you are not?"

"No. Never could be. I want what is here. To make use of this land in ways the Auldek have long forgotten. If this land were ours to do with what we wanted, we would build a paradise like nothing the world has yet seen. Of course we would. Who better than slaves to know the value of free life?"

A nation of orphans, Dariel thought. None of whom can have children. What kind of future is that?

Mor turned her face toward him. "Think of it. We would know how to build a just society. That's a thing the world has never seen."

The sun shone warm on her features. Her skin looked so soft. Dariel wanted to run his fingertips across her cheek and down toward her lips, wondering if he would feel the shivith spots if he closed his eyes.

When Mor spoke, it seemed she had taken some portion of his own thoughts and woven them into something different and pressed it back toward him. "Though I set the marks on you myself, I don't fully recognize the face I made. I'll have to get used to you slowly, Dariel Akaran. I should tell you that it's certain the Auldek are marching to attack your nation. I don't know all the details, but they take an army like none they have mustered in years. They take war beasts and many of the sublime motion. I can't say how this will change Ushen Brae or how it will change your land. You have helped us, though. Yoen wants to meet you, but I told him that first I would offer you release. If you want to go now and somehow aid your people, I will not stop you."

He would have jumped at such an offer a fortnight ago. Now, though, he heard it coolly. It wasn't that he cared any less about the Known World, about his family, or about Wren. But the truth was twofold. On his own, he would never get back home. On his own, he was but one man who would have to shout for anyone to notice him, and the only ones who would notice would be his enemies. On his own, he would be ru

He said, "I would like to meet Yoen."

"You really want to know us?" Mor asked. "Us and these lands?"

Dariel said, "Yes."

"You know that I have not forgiven you anything. It may be that you are truly to have a role in the People's future, but that will only be decided over many, many more tests."

"I know."

"And you know that there is no easy road back to your land from here."

"I know."

Mor stared directly into his eyes for a long time, long enough that it grew hard for him to return her gaze. Dariel felt his eyes moisten, but he did not blink or break the exchange. "It may be that you and I are both realists. Dreamers, too, I think. But realists as well. You ca

She broke the stare as if it were nothing. "Come then," the woman said matter-of-factly. She showed him her back, and began to descend the granite slope.

Dariel watched her go for a moment, and then lifted his gaze and looked toward the setting sun, across the crowns of trees, verdant green, gilded beneath a flaming sky. He had the impulse to turn and look back over the route they had traveled, or make eye contact with Tu

C HAPTER

The night before she rose to attempt the greatest works of sorcery she had ever tried, Cori

Cori

That much of the dream was just a version of events that actually had happened, a small and inconsequential event one afternoon in the mountains. What happened next had not happened in actual life. It couldn't. The players had not all been alive on that day.

As she walked, taking in the mountain view-the green and blue of the peaks before her, slowly receding as they dropped in altitude-a man appeared on her left side and took in the landscape with her. Cori

He said nothing, just smiled at her, shook his head, motioned back toward the carriage in which Aaden sat, likely still green with his illness. He was saying that he understood her and that he loved the boy. Such a good boy. He was saying that the boy would be the king he never got to be. He was saying that he understood Cori

"I'm not a bad mother," Cori

"No, of course not," a voice said. Not Aliver's but the man on her right side, walking with them as well. She turned toward him. Hanish Mein. His clean, crisp features. His blond hair shone around his face and draped his shoulders. His gray eyes glowed. She wanted to press her lips against them and pull in the gentle calm of them.