On Fire's Wings - Christie Golden [128]
Slowly, he reached to do so, then hesitated. “You mentioned Jashemi,” he said. “You said, ‘Jashemi was a Lorekeeper.’”
By the firelight dancing in her palm, he saw her eyes glisten with tears. “Jashemi is dead,” she said, “But I misspoke. He remains a Lorekeeper. I know this is all confusing, but—Please, Melaan. If you want to save your people, you must trust me—trust yourself.”
He had recognized her name. This, then, was the woman Tahmu-kha-Rakyn had warned them about. Reason screamed to Melaan to spring on her, tie her up and bring her to his lord, as the khashim of the Clan of Four Waters had requested. But the words she said resonated beyond reason. Tentatively, he reached and took her hand.
As if in a waking dream, he relived the memories of the people he had been; watched the Shadow come and destroy; saw it defeated and dissolve into nothingness. He saw this woman dressed in different flesh as she might dress in different clothing. And he knew her.
The remembering took but a moment, then she squeezed his hand and let it go. Drifting back to the present, he stared at her, then bowed in homage.
“Flame Dancer,” he whispered. “I live to serve you. What do you ask of me?”
She gave him the names of three other Lorekeepers in his clan. “Find these people. I will go to them tonight also. Do what you can to persuade your khashim to meet me in three weeks’ time at the foot of Mount Bari. Your task is to convince him to come. Once you have brought him—” and she smiled a little “—I will convince him of other things. Arukan must have an army to fight the Emperor from over the mountain, or all of Arukan will fall.”
He nodded, and watched her in awe as she rose and gracefully walked out of the tent.
Lorekeeper. At last, he had a name to put to that part of himself. Knowing this gave him a comfort, a sense of peace, he had never tasted in his adult life. He returned to his sleeping mat, fell asleep quickly, and had no dreams.
Tiah made no haste to return to her sleeping quarters. It was late, she knew the guard who stood watch at the entrance to the House, and she and her lover had been meeting unchallenged for some time. What had worried Tiah the most was the thought of Yeshi discovering her illicit encounters, and Yeshi was now gone. Tiah’s nose wrinkled in contempt. Yeshi had been so intent that all of her handmaidens be “pure,” and yet she was the one who had been taking a lover and plotting to kill her husband.
Tiah didn’t miss her much at all.
Her feet padded along the road up to the House, and she breathed the still night air deeply. She swung the lit lantern she carried to light her way in the dark night, and hummed as she walked.
“Tiah,” came a voice.
Tiah stopped dead in her tracks and whirled, trying to see who had called her.
“Who’s there?”
“An old friend, or perhaps an old enemy.” The voice belonged to a woman. Her thoughts scattered and clouded with guilt, Tiah took several heartbeats before she recognized the voice. When she did, she dropped the lantern with a soft cry. The little flame inside it ought to have been snuffed out, but instead blazed to a greater height.
Impossibly, a woman stepped out of the flames. She smiled gently.
“Hello, Tiah,” said Kevla Bai-sha.
A few days after his arrival, Tahmu was approached by one of Yeshi’s former handmaidens. Tiah, he thought she was called. Like all the other servants, she had said nothing when he had banished her mistress. He had put her and the other girl, the smaller, shyer one, to work keeping the house clean. They would also attend to any visiting khashimas, although he had entertained no one since his return. The House was in mourning for the fallen khashimu, and it would be some time before the Great Hall would ring again with music and laughter.
So he was surprised when Tiah approached him as he was preparing to ride down to the rivers. She hurried to him and prostrated herself in the dirt.
One hand on Swift’s neck, Tahmu asked, “What is it?”
“My lord, I must speak with you. It is dire!”
The tone of her voice alerted him. “Rise