Dawn by Tim Lebbon Page A

well-being, but there were signs that she had her own interests at heart as well. He had passed her by several times on his fledge trips, never confident enough to touch on her mind but more than aware of the stew of emotions residing there. Hope was unsure of herself, confused, and her mind was in such conflict that its effects spilled into the air around her. Trey had sensed her confusion, and it worried him.
    Now, with Rafe gone and Alishia looking like their final hope, the witch seemed to have found a cause once again. There she was, curled up before Alishia, eyes closed but mind still undoubtedly running away with itself. Trey wondered how he and Kosar figured in her daydreams.
    The witch’s face flexed, her tattoos merging to cloud her skin.
    “Are you asleep?” Trey whispered. Hope did not move, but that meant nothing. He stepped between two of the thick ribs and quietly hefted his disc-sword, slinging it onto his back. He had tried wiping Monks’ blood from the blade, but it had stained. The luster had gone from the metal, probably for good, and he hoped that he never had to face another Red Monk. Perhaps next time the blade would be less effective.
    He knelt beside Alishia and touched her forehead. He moved her toward him slightly, away from the witch, holding her head up off the ground so that she did not scrape her face. She was warm. Her skin was slick with sweat. He put his ear to her mouth until he could feel the subtle caress of her breath, but she was silent in her sleep. Whatever was going on inside her head remained there, enigmatic as ever.
    “Just tell us everything,” Trey whispered. “You need Kosar’s trust, and you can get that by showing him what you mean. You need Hope’s loyalty, and perhaps you’ll get that in the same way.” He glanced at the witch, and in the twilight her face seemed darker than normal. He moved his hand beneath her nose and felt for her breath, afraid for a moment that she had simply given up on life.
    The witch opened her eyes and stared at Trey.
    “Throttle me in my sleep, will you?”
    Trey snatched his hand back. “Of course not. I was checking that you were all right.”
    Hope’s face relaxed and she looked at Alishia. “Of course you were,” she said. “And I’m fine. I was trying to sleep, but my dreams won’t let me.”
    “What do you dream of?”
    “Kang Kang,” Hope said.
    “What of it?” Trey looked past Hope, beyond the fallen machine at the dark peaks on the horizon.
    “Alishia says that’s our aim, so I’m going to take her.”
    “So am I,” Trey said, committing himself.
    “It’s a long walk,” the witch said, sitting up. “And a dangerous one. Kang Kang’s nothing like the rest of Noreela.”
    Trey tried to read the witch’s strange smile, but it barely touched her eyes. It was as if those tattoos swirling across her cheeks and dipping into her mouth had tightened, drawing her cheeks up into a grotesque parody of a grin.
    “Trey?”
    He looked at her, startled by her unaccustomed use of his name.
    “We’re on the same side. We may have different ideas of what’s happening, and differing reasons for being where we are today, but we’re both here for Alishia and whatever she carries, and we’re both against the Mages. Anyone in Noreela must be against them, sane or otherwise. There’s no alternative. Do you understand?”
    Trey nodded, not sure that he did. Was Hope trying to form an alliance with him, or simply confuse him more?
    “I’m pleased you want to come to Kang Kang,” she said. “We can help each other. As for Kosar…I think he’s lost to us.”
    Trey looked at the shadow of the thief. Maybe, he thought. Or maybe he’ll do things his own way as well.
    “We need to go soon,” the witch said.
    “We should wait until she’s awake. And I want to try Kosar one more time.”
    “The thief ’s doubt and mistrust will cause us trouble,” Hope said.
    “He’s the one who brought us this far.”
    She raised