Silver Silence by Joy Nash Page A

soothe him? It would have been better to stay away. Aye, the road was harsh, but not so harsh as being an outsider among his own people. He lost sight of Hefin in the glare of the rising sun. With a sigh, he unwrapped his harp and picked idly at the strings.
    The sun had passed its zenith when Rhys first sensed something was wrong. Hefin had offered up a young hare for Rhys’s breakfast. Soon after it had been roasted and eaten, and his harp safely wrapped, Rhys found himself drowsing. He woke with a start whenthe merlin, screeching in agitation, alighted on an outcrop of rock above Rhys’s head. Rhys’s mind registered a flash of an image, relayed from the bird’s mind to his. He sat up. Scant moments later, he caught a glimpse of pale gray fur on the trail below.
    A she-wolf. But not just any wolf—Ardra was Gwen’s companion, in the way that Hefin was Rhys’s. Rhys moved not a muscle as the sleek beast loped into the clearing. To his great surprise, Ardra padded right up to him and clamped her teeth on his sleeve. She tugged, as if trying to urge Rhys to his feet.
    Hefin flapped his wings frantically. Ardra gave a low growl and did not let go.
    Rhys rose. Ardra’s jaw relaxed. She bounded down the trail, then stopped and looked back, teeth bared.
    “You wish me to follow you?”
    Unease slithered through Rhys’s gut. He grabbed his pack and slung it over his shoulder. “Go.”
    He followed the wolf down to the muddy strip of land separating the foot of the mountain and the swamp. Gwen and Owein were there, speaking in low, grim tones.
    “What is it?” Rhys asked, hastening toward them. Ardra bounded to Gwen. “What is wrong?”
    The pair turned as one. “Rhys!” Gwen’s face showed a mixture of surprise and hope. “By the gods, I’m relieved to see you. Trevor said you’d gone to Isca Dumnoniorum.”
    “I stopped to rest in the hills,” Rhys lied, “and fell asleep. Ardra found me—”
    “And what of Breena?” Owein interrupted. “Is the lass with you?”
    He stared at Breena’s uncle. “Why would you think that?”
    Gwen colored slightly. “We thought…hoped…oh, Rhys! Have you no idea where she is at all?”
    His sister was close to tears. The sight sent icy fingers skating down Rhys’s spine. His twin rarely cried. He gripped her arm. “What has happened to Breena? Is she missing? Tell me!”
    Owein answered. The man’s eyes were haunted. “No one has seen her since last night. She is not on the island, nor in any of the usual places on this side of the swamp. I have scried for her, but my Sight revealed nothing. That should not be possible. Breena is a Seer, and my own sister’s daughter.”
    Rhys understood. Druid Seers, especially ones who shared the same blood, were very sensitive to each other’s magic. “You Saw nothing at all?”
    “I Saw nothing. I felt nothing. Her essence is gone. Completely.”
    The three Druids stared at each other in stark silence. A shroud of denial descended on Rhys, blotting all sound save the roaring in his ears. He tried to breathe, tried to move. He couldn’t. It was if he’d died on his feet, and had yet to fall to the ground.
    “You think she is—” He could not say it.
    “No!” Gwen’s arm came around him. “No, not that. Owein would have…would have Seen her body.”
    “Then what?” Rhys croaked. “What has happened to her?”
    “Deep magic,” Owein said grimly. “It is the only explanation. No other force could hide Breena’s presence so completely from my Sight.”
    “What are you saying?” Rhys demanded. “That Breena was secretly practicing deep magic?”
    “I do not believe she would be so rash,” Gwen said. “But if she encountered someone else…”
    “Someone else?” Rhys dragged a hand down his face. “But who?”
    “I have no notion.”
    “Perhaps she is simply lost. Perhaps there is some other reason why Owein cannot See her. Did you find no sign of her at all? Her raft?”
    “I found it in one of the