Storm Warning - Mercedes Lackey [108]
“Nothing. Just a pile of smoldering ashes.” Karal nodded. “It was quite—ah—daunting. It made me certain that I never wanted to find myself receiving the Sunlord’s direct regard. I will be quite happy to remain in obscurity!”
“I can well understand that,” An‘desha replied. “The Star-Eyed is—a little more subtle.” That may be the understatement of the century. Kal’enel is not inclined to strike people dead with lightning even at Her angriest.
The serene little indoor garden had become their meeting place; they were reasonably certain of being left alone there, and since An‘desha and Firesong already practiced all magic there, it was one place where An’desha felt relatively confident. And no matter what the weather—which continued to be uncertain—it was always balmy summer in this miniature Vale.
He noted that Karal was no longer wincing whenever he mentioned the Shin’a’in Goddess, and his dark eyes no longer clouded with unease. Poor Karal. He was so shocked at first to learn that Vkandis might not be the One True God.
“But then again,” An’desha continued with a shrug. “She and He are both gods, so who are we to say what they will and will not do? For all that I was touched by the Star-Eyed’s own hand, I am still hardly qualified to judge Her or Her probable actions.”
Karal coughed politely. An’desha took the hint.
“Speaking of probable actions—I spoke with Ulrich about you.” Karal waited for An’desha’s reaction.
His reaction would have been enthusiastic enough to satisfy anyone. Excitement sent a chill along his arms. “Will he come? Has he time? Does he think he can help?” An‘desha had spent enough time delving back into the memories of Falconsbane’s previous lives to feel as if the already uncertain ground beneath him had become a quagmire.- He couldn’t help thinking that only extreme good fortune had kept him from stepping into a bottomless pit that would swallow him up before he could cry out for help. He’d had a particularly hag-ridden nightmare last night, after yet another stroll through the memory-fragments of the past. He’d spent the rest of the night huddled into a blanket in a fearful ball of misery, and finally Firesong had thrown his hands up and lost patience with him after failing to calm him. Firesong had gone off to the garden to sleep, leaving An’desha to watch out the last of the night by himself.
I knew that he was right, that it had only been a nightmare, but what could such nightmares lead to? What if I fell into one and never came out again? That was what held me so terrified that he could not comfort me. I don’t know how many more nights like that I can go through.
Karal nodded solemnly. “He said he would try to come this afternoon, unless I came to tell him otherwise. Shall I go see if he is free?”
“Please!” An’desha replied, with more force than he had intended. He made himself relax, though Karal gave no sign that he was alarmed by the violent response. “Please. Things are-I would truly like to speak with him.”
“He’ll come. I’ll go find him now.” Karal knew An‘desha well enough by now to take him seriously. He got up and trotted off without another word, leaving An’desha alone in the garden again. Although An’desha was not normally given to pacing, he did so now. After all this time—someone who understood his pain and his peril, who was willing to help him—
What would this Ulrich be like? Let him not be like the shaman of my Clan ... that would leave matters worse than they are now! He could not bear that—to have someone deliver a lecture to him on his own moral weakness, on how he should be showing some spine instead of cowering like a child afraid of monsters in the tent shadows. He was doing his best, he was! Even if Firesong didn’t think so—
Now that the moment was at hand, he was rapidly tangling into a knot of tension.
“Here we are. I found him on the very path,” said Karal cheerfully, from the door. An’desha spun about to see his friend entering through the doorway, with a much older man beside him, a