healing.
She looked up at Bardon’s chin. The muscle in his jaw worked.
She closed her eyes.
Paladin, you said you would be watching out for me. Do you know what’s going on?
Bardon stopped. Kale forced her eyes open and looked around. Without moving her neck, she could see little. Her muscles ached, all except her arm. Her arm felt nothing. Her vision blurred. No, she could see well enough, but the space between her and the walls shimmered in places.
The lehman had carried Kale into the center of a round room. The walls slanted inward to a point above their heads. On the outside, each of The Hall’s turrets looked as though it were crowned with an onion, a golden bulb tapering up to a spire pointed heavenward.
The air quivered. Ripples of iridescent colors radiated from the wooden floor to the curving ceiling. Gateways! Side by side, in a ring around the room, there were gateways. How would Librettowit know which one to go through?
Bardon’s arms tightened around her.
He’s nervous. Why is he nervous?
She knew the answer.
He’s never been through a gateway. Toopka hasn’t either. Is she scared? I’ve got to tell them it’s all right.
Her lips would not open. Her tongue took up her whole mouth. It was harder to breathe.
Hurry, Librettowit. Hurry!
Kale heard the near hysteria in her plea to the tumanhofer. The top of his cloth hood appeared above the hole in the floor, and he climbed the last few steps with Toopka in his arms. He glanced at Kale with a worried eye but quickly looked away.
I know I’m dying,
she told him.
“Not yet, you aren’t! Fenworth will have my hide if I don’t bring you to him.”
Toopka whimpered. Metta landed beside her on Librettowit’s shoulder and sang gentle, melodious notes designed to pacify her fears.
It’s all right, Toopka. We’re almost there.
The little doneel’s frightened eyes turned to Kale, and a small smile quivered at the corner of her thin black lips.
Bardon shifted from one foot to the other. His eyes darted around the room, flicking from one gateway to the next, never resting on any of the shimmering spots for more than a second.
It’s all right, Bardon. The light clings to you when you walk through, and the air squeezes, but it only takes a second. Take a deep breath first and blow out as soon as you’re through.
“You mindspeak!”
He said it out loud. His chin whipped down. His widened eyes met hers.
She tried to smile, but her face would not move. She no longer felt the pain in her shoulders and neck. She could no longer feel Gymn pressing against her heart. Bardon had said no pain was bad, not good.
It’s all right,
she told him.
Let’s go.
“This way,” said Librettowit. He pointed to the floor in front of one of the gateways.
Bardon’s mind registered the letter
s
for south, and Kale read his momentary relief that the tumanhofer was not choosing a gateway at random. Then she felt his renewed fear of the unknown as if it were her own. She’d learned much about controlling the influence of others’ thoughts and emotions. She’d learned to keep herself protected from an overload of sensations emanating from those around her. The poison sabotaged her efforts to put up the guards.
I don’t think I’ll make it, Bardon. I’m too weak.
The muscles in his arms tensed. He barked an order. “You will make it, Leecent Kale.” Renewed resolve coursed through his body and transferred to Kale.
A sigh of relief caught in her throat. The small choking noise captured Librettowit’s attention. He turned back and scowled at them. Without a word, he hastened his departure.
The light in the gateway sparkled as Librettowit stepped into it with Toopka. The shimmering glow clung to them both for a moment, and then he passed through, out of Kale’s sight. Metta flew into the portal and disappeared too, in the slow, distorted way Librettowit had.
Bardon took a deep breath, tightened his grip on his burden, and plunged ahead.
Kale saw the
She looked up at Bardon’s chin. The muscle in his jaw worked.
She closed her eyes.
Paladin, you said you would be watching out for me. Do you know what’s going on?
Bardon stopped. Kale forced her eyes open and looked around. Without moving her neck, she could see little. Her muscles ached, all except her arm. Her arm felt nothing. Her vision blurred. No, she could see well enough, but the space between her and the walls shimmered in places.
The lehman had carried Kale into the center of a round room. The walls slanted inward to a point above their heads. On the outside, each of The Hall’s turrets looked as though it were crowned with an onion, a golden bulb tapering up to a spire pointed heavenward.
The air quivered. Ripples of iridescent colors radiated from the wooden floor to the curving ceiling. Gateways! Side by side, in a ring around the room, there were gateways. How would Librettowit know which one to go through?
Bardon’s arms tightened around her.
He’s nervous. Why is he nervous?
She knew the answer.
He’s never been through a gateway. Toopka hasn’t either. Is she scared? I’ve got to tell them it’s all right.
Her lips would not open. Her tongue took up her whole mouth. It was harder to breathe.
Hurry, Librettowit. Hurry!
Kale heard the near hysteria in her plea to the tumanhofer. The top of his cloth hood appeared above the hole in the floor, and he climbed the last few steps with Toopka in his arms. He glanced at Kale with a worried eye but quickly looked away.
I know I’m dying,
she told him.
“Not yet, you aren’t! Fenworth will have my hide if I don’t bring you to him.”
Toopka whimpered. Metta landed beside her on Librettowit’s shoulder and sang gentle, melodious notes designed to pacify her fears.
It’s all right, Toopka. We’re almost there.
The little doneel’s frightened eyes turned to Kale, and a small smile quivered at the corner of her thin black lips.
Bardon shifted from one foot to the other. His eyes darted around the room, flicking from one gateway to the next, never resting on any of the shimmering spots for more than a second.
It’s all right, Bardon. The light clings to you when you walk through, and the air squeezes, but it only takes a second. Take a deep breath first and blow out as soon as you’re through.
“You mindspeak!”
He said it out loud. His chin whipped down. His widened eyes met hers.
She tried to smile, but her face would not move. She no longer felt the pain in her shoulders and neck. She could no longer feel Gymn pressing against her heart. Bardon had said no pain was bad, not good.
It’s all right,
she told him.
Let’s go.
“This way,” said Librettowit. He pointed to the floor in front of one of the gateways.
Bardon’s mind registered the letter
s
for south, and Kale read his momentary relief that the tumanhofer was not choosing a gateway at random. Then she felt his renewed fear of the unknown as if it were her own. She’d learned much about controlling the influence of others’ thoughts and emotions. She’d learned to keep herself protected from an overload of sensations emanating from those around her. The poison sabotaged her efforts to put up the guards.
I don’t think I’ll make it, Bardon. I’m too weak.
The muscles in his arms tensed. He barked an order. “You will make it, Leecent Kale.” Renewed resolve coursed through his body and transferred to Kale.
A sigh of relief caught in her throat. The small choking noise captured Librettowit’s attention. He turned back and scowled at them. Without a word, he hastened his departure.
The light in the gateway sparkled as Librettowit stepped into it with Toopka. The shimmering glow clung to them both for a moment, and then he passed through, out of Kale’s sight. Metta flew into the portal and disappeared too, in the slow, distorted way Librettowit had.
Bardon took a deep breath, tightened his grip on his burden, and plunged ahead.
Kale saw the
Similar Books
