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prompted them to do? Both Melina and Dantarahma believed they did a good and wise thing in trying to bring back
the old ways. What do these two believe?"
"You speak with great certainty," Hope said.
"I speak with fear," Plik retorted. "The pattern is there - and though we have Truth back with us, worn but sane,
we also must face that something was sealed in that apartment beneath the earth, something that was there recently
enough to carve the features of people still living. We have skirted around this matter, but what did we let loose? And
what is this 'Voice' going to do now that we have set him free?"
Hope said nothing, but her clear, bright eyes turned and studied Firekeeper.
Firekeeper nodded slowly. "Twice before, almost unwitting, Blind Seer and I have been part of ending sorcerers.
What we have seen them do with their magic has given me no great love for them or their arts. Plik, you said you
speak with fear, but there is no shame in fearing a fire. Fire burns, as I know all too well. Magic seems too much like
fire to me not to fear its misuse."
Blind Seer rose and shook himself. "Plik, are you looking for reassurance that whatever these symbols show us,
this 'Voice' - or at least these remaining tools of his - will not be dismissed as mere curiosities?"
"I am."
"Be reassured. I don't know if we can find the two depicted through these figurines or the source of the Voice that
spoke to Truth, but if there is the least hint of a trail, Firekeeper and I will go scenting along it."
"Boldly sworn." The words rasped from the open doorway where Truth had entered, unheeded. "Would you still
speak so boldly if you knew you could find what you seek?"
Firekeeper rested her hand on Blind Seer's shoulder. "We would."
Truth's tail lashed. "Then count me in on your hunting. I have very mixed feelings about this Voice. If we find a
trail, I will come with you. My talent is mine once more, and I think ... yes ... I am almost sure ... that the binding
between myself and this Voice goes more than one way."
Plik's head dipped again. "Do you view this Voice as a friend or an enemy?"
"Neither. Rather say a curiosity," Truth replied. "I am a jaguar, and we do not take kindly to bindings, not even
from our kittens once they are grown. I want to meet this one who dared lay hold of me - even if his gain was mine as
well. It seems to me that the best way to find him would be to find these two of whom he has also carved figurines.
What do you say?"
Blind Seer coughed. "I say we are ahead of ourselves, hunting the herds before they gather. Firekeeper and I have
given Plik our promise. Now we have yours, but first we must take these figurines and the symbols to the mainland. I
fancy we should go with them ourselves. What do you think, Firekeeper?"
Although she knew her time on Misheemnekuru was ending, Firekeeper felt the words she spoke cut her as
sharply as her Fang did hide and bone.
"I think you are right. We must go to the mainland."
Leavetaking from Dark Death, Moon Frost, Rascal, and the little puppies was very hard, but u-Seeheera, the First
City of Liglim, was not a place for a wolf pack, especially one with pups too young to demonstrate common sense.
Firekeeper held each of the puppies tightly, making sure each one drank deeply of her scent. Her parting from
Dark Death, Moon Frost, and Rascal was no more formal.
"Don't let them forget us," Firekeeper said, hugging each of the wolves.
"We'll tell stories about you," Dark Death promised.
"And some of them will even be flattering," Rascal laughed, "and I'll recite each and every one of Blind Seer's
proverbs - those I can remember anyhow."
Blind Seer looked at Firekeeper, and she knew he was aware of her sense of loss. Hadn't her freedom been his as
well? Then his jaws gaped in a wolfish grin.
"Going to the mainland means you had better find yourself some new clothing, sweet Firekeeper - that is, unless
you wish Derian Carter's skin to blush as red as his hair."
VI
DERIAN CARTER STOOD IN THE INNER COURTYARD of the Bright Haven embassy looking at the note
that had been delivered to him by fish eagle. Perhaps it said something about his current situation that for most of those
in his immediate vicinity his appearance seemed stranger than his courier service. Tall, fair, freckled, and red-haired,
Derian stood out among the Liglimom. These were uniformly dark of hair and eye, possessed of skin that while not
actually deeply tanned gave - to Derian's eye, accustomed as it was to fairer-skinned peoples - the impression of
having been warmly toasted by the sun.
The note Derian had unbound from the osprey's leg was written in the language of Liglim - Liglimosh, as his own
Pellish-speaking people had taken to calling it, since the Liglimom used the same word for their homeland and their
language. The Liglimom claimed there was a definite difference in stress between the two words that made them easy
to tell apart, but Derian had never heard anything to differentiate the words from each other.
The note was in an unfamiliar hand, but the signature, a sketched outline of a human hand with that of a wolf's
paw side by side, left him no doubt as to who was the sender. Firekeeper, finding some poor disdu to do her writing for
her again, no doubt.
"Fox Hair," the note began without the flourishes and titles that either Derian's own people or the Liglimom would
use in a note to one who was, after all, a high-ranking assistant to an ambassador, "We come. Today, with evening.
Truth is with us. Can you be at harbor?"
That was all, but those few words gave Derian quite a bit of reason for thought. Firekeeper had only rarely
touched the mainland in the past year - and one of those times had been to greet Derian on his own return from a
voyage home to Hawk Haven.
Part of her reluctance to leave Misheemnekuru was because after two years spent more or less among humans, she
was back among wolves. Part, and Derian smiled slightly as he recalled this, was because Firekeeper became violently
seasick whenever she got on a boat. There were drugs that helped her deal with the malaise, but as these had to be
mixed up fresh, she could not carry a supply with her, and it galled her to ask any human for help.
Derian glanced up at the sun. Midday. Hours yet before he would need to be at the harbor. He supposed that he
should go inform the ambassador that one was coming who, while not really a citizen of either Hawk Haven or Bright
Bay - the two kingdoms sponsoring this embassy - certainly had ample claim on the hospitality of both.
I wonder if Firekeeper got news of our new arrivals, Derian thought. Some seagull or otter or whatever might
have passed on a bit of gossip. That might be enough to make Firekeeper interrupt her running about like a wild thing, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]