said, "Tolaria, will we be successful in this war?"
She sat, silent, as the voices in the dark hall of the future swirled around her, contradicting each other, saying things that couldn't possibly all be true. The clamor prevented her from seeing anything clearly, and so she said nothing.
"Well? Answer!"
"She won't answer," Torrant said. "I told you so."
Tomari grunted, then said: "Tolaria, what about the party we sent with Dosen to kill the dragon?"
"What about them?" she said.
"Enough, Tomari," Torrant said. "Dosen's coming back, so he must have dealt with them. There's no need to waste time on trivialities."
"She said there was unfinished business," Tomari said. "Tolaria, did Dosen eliminate all the villeins who accompanied him?"
"No."
Tomari shot his brother a triumphant look, then turned back to Tolaria and said: "Who escaped?"
She said nothing.
Torrant sighed. "Tolaria, which hirelings did Dosen fail to kill?"
"A speaker of Words, and a picker of pockets."
"A speaker of words?" Tomari said. "Everyone speaks words."
"A speaker of Words. She means the wizard."
Tomari blanched. "The wizard? That fat fool let the wizard escape? What if he comes here?"
"We will deal with him. I'll speak to Qalor."
"You think potions will suffice against the wizard?"
"Unkind. You know that Qalor is responsible for our more unconventional defenses. They will come into play if the wizard attacks."
"What about the other one, then? The picker of pockets?"
"One of the rogues, no doubt."
"I realize that, but which one survived?"
"Does it matter?" Torrant said. "At the moment, an escaped thief is the least of our worries."
Before setting off for the cove where he kept his boat, Ponn stopped by the children's room, pulling back the curtain and peering into the darkness. Not wanting to wake them, he did not venture inside; he merely looked at them, memorizing their sleeping faces.
When his gaze fell on Pord's bed, he frowned; the boy was not there. Pord had made a rudimentary attempt to conceal his absence, wadding up his blanket into the semblance of a body, but the subterfuge was transparent and did not fool Ponn for a moment.
Uneasy, Ponn went to the kitchen, where Plenn was preparing a small sack of food for him to take. "Almost ready," she said. "Do you want hard cheese, or—"
"Pord is not in his bed," Ponn said. "Have you seen him?"
She shook her head. "I heard someone moving about in the common room earlier, but I didn't look. I thought it was you, or a guest."
"Find him, but don't leave the other children alone. Send people out to look for him if you must."
She nodded. "And you?"
"I have to go," he said. "Gelt said to meet him at sunrise. If I don't leave now, I will be late." He hugged her tightly, feeling her cheek wet against his. "None of that," he whispered. "I'll be fine. I'll take them to the islands, and then they will give Prehn back to us."
"You believe that?"
"I must."
"How do we know they haven't already—"
Ponn put his finger on her lips. "I'll bring Prehn back safely," he said. "I promise."
He left then, forgetting to take the sack of food, hurrying out the door so that she would not see the tears in his own eyes. In the darkness before dawn, few people were about; those villagers he did see averted their eyes and didn't greet him, as if acknowledging his presence might cause their own children to disappear.
His route took him by a communal well, where he paused for a drink and then to duck his head in the trough. It was a warm and sticky morning, the air dense and still; the cool liquid refreshed his hot, tired eyes, helped wake him up. He had not slept well last night.
Water coursing from his thick black hair and dripping down his shoulders, Ponn left the well, following a little-used path into the brush that grew along the interior of the village stockade. He followed the wall of tall, dark wood until he
She sat, silent, as the voices in the dark hall of the future swirled around her, contradicting each other, saying things that couldn't possibly all be true. The clamor prevented her from seeing anything clearly, and so she said nothing.
"Well? Answer!"
"She won't answer," Torrant said. "I told you so."
Tomari grunted, then said: "Tolaria, what about the party we sent with Dosen to kill the dragon?"
"What about them?" she said.
"Enough, Tomari," Torrant said. "Dosen's coming back, so he must have dealt with them. There's no need to waste time on trivialities."
"She said there was unfinished business," Tomari said. "Tolaria, did Dosen eliminate all the villeins who accompanied him?"
"No."
Tomari shot his brother a triumphant look, then turned back to Tolaria and said: "Who escaped?"
She said nothing.
Torrant sighed. "Tolaria, which hirelings did Dosen fail to kill?"
"A speaker of Words, and a picker of pockets."
"A speaker of words?" Tomari said. "Everyone speaks words."
"A speaker of Words. She means the wizard."
Tomari blanched. "The wizard? That fat fool let the wizard escape? What if he comes here?"
"We will deal with him. I'll speak to Qalor."
"You think potions will suffice against the wizard?"
"Unkind. You know that Qalor is responsible for our more unconventional defenses. They will come into play if the wizard attacks."
"What about the other one, then? The picker of pockets?"
"One of the rogues, no doubt."
"I realize that, but which one survived?"
"Does it matter?" Torrant said. "At the moment, an escaped thief is the least of our worries."
Before setting off for the cove where he kept his boat, Ponn stopped by the children's room, pulling back the curtain and peering into the darkness. Not wanting to wake them, he did not venture inside; he merely looked at them, memorizing their sleeping faces.
When his gaze fell on Pord's bed, he frowned; the boy was not there. Pord had made a rudimentary attempt to conceal his absence, wadding up his blanket into the semblance of a body, but the subterfuge was transparent and did not fool Ponn for a moment.
Uneasy, Ponn went to the kitchen, where Plenn was preparing a small sack of food for him to take. "Almost ready," she said. "Do you want hard cheese, or—"
"Pord is not in his bed," Ponn said. "Have you seen him?"
She shook her head. "I heard someone moving about in the common room earlier, but I didn't look. I thought it was you, or a guest."
"Find him, but don't leave the other children alone. Send people out to look for him if you must."
She nodded. "And you?"
"I have to go," he said. "Gelt said to meet him at sunrise. If I don't leave now, I will be late." He hugged her tightly, feeling her cheek wet against his. "None of that," he whispered. "I'll be fine. I'll take them to the islands, and then they will give Prehn back to us."
"You believe that?"
"I must."
"How do we know they haven't already—"
Ponn put his finger on her lips. "I'll bring Prehn back safely," he said. "I promise."
He left then, forgetting to take the sack of food, hurrying out the door so that she would not see the tears in his own eyes. In the darkness before dawn, few people were about; those villagers he did see averted their eyes and didn't greet him, as if acknowledging his presence might cause their own children to disappear.
His route took him by a communal well, where he paused for a drink and then to duck his head in the trough. It was a warm and sticky morning, the air dense and still; the cool liquid refreshed his hot, tired eyes, helped wake him up. He had not slept well last night.
Water coursing from his thick black hair and dripping down his shoulders, Ponn left the well, following a little-used path into the brush that grew along the interior of the village stockade. He followed the wall of tall, dark wood until he
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