The Dark Remains - Mark Anthony [105]
Lirith did not know what it had cost Ivalaine to join the center of the Pattern, but perhaps the price she had paid was even dearer than Lirith had guessed. The queen did not look at them as she spoke, and both her words and motions seemed stiff, like one who was half-frozen. Tressa stood in the corner of the chamber, her lips pressed in a tight line, but the red-haired witch said nothing.
What is this task you must give us? Lirith had finally dared.
Ivalaine’s answer had, in one crystalline moment, utterly changed Lirith’s and Aryn’s lives forever.
Lady Melia is to journey to Tarras with the bard Falken Blackhand. You will accompany them. As you travel, you will keep watch upon them and learn what you can of the one called Travis Wilder, whom the Witches have named Runebreaker. If he returns to them …
The queen had fallen still. Her slender shoulders were hunched, her left hand clenched into a fist.
Yes, Your Majesty?
Now Ivalaine did look at them, and her expression was not one of anger or steely resolve as Lirith might have guessed. Instead, her eyes shone with an icy light that stopped Lirith’s heart, a light that altered her vision of the queen of Toloria. It was the light of fear.
If that should happen, then you will send word to me at once.
With that the audience was over, and Tressa was guiding them to the door with gentle but insistent motions.
May Sia bless you, Lirith had said as they stepped into the corridor.
Tressa gazed back into the chamber, at the slender silhouette that stood before the night-darkened windows.
May Sia bless us all, she had whispered.
Then the door shut, leaving Aryn and Lirith alone. The two women exchanged looks, and in that moment a conversation took place. Neither knew exactly what Ivalaine’s words—or the fear in her eyes—portended. But the Pattern was clear, and they had their task.
As they walked to Melia and Falken’s chamber, Lirith formulated an argument in her mind, a compelling reason why they should accompany the two on their journey south. She needn’t have bothered.
Dear ones, Melia had said at once, embracing them both, it would please me if you would travel with us.
Thank you, Falken had told them at the door, after they had all agreed to meet in the bailey at dawn. The bard’s wolfish face was haggard. One road-worn bard isn’t exactly ideal company at a time like this. It will be good for Melia to have two bright, beautiful ladies along—and two friends she cares for.
These words left Lirith and Aryn speechless. But don’t you see? Lirith had wanted to shout. We’re betraying you both, and Travis as well! But she only met the bard’s eyes and nodded.
On their way back through the castle, they stopped by Durge’s room. As Aryn’s guardian, he had to be informed of their decision.
I will begin readying my things at once, the knight had said.
Can’t you even question us, Durge? Lirith had wanted to say, but she knew it was no use. Durge trusted them even as Melia and Falken did.
It’s better this way, Aryn had said across the Weirding as they walked from Durge’s room.
How do you mean?
Lirith still didn’t know when the baroness had learned to speak without words, but it was both a comfort and a convenience; Aryn’s voice was strong and clear in her mind.
It’s like Ivalaine said … the Pattern is set. No matter what we do, the Witches are going to search for Travis. Don’t you think it’s better if we’re the ones who find him—his friends who care for him?
Lirith knew the young woman was right. Ivalaine had not forbidden them to talk to Travis, to warn him, to tell him to return to his home and never come back to Eldh. That was the thread Sister Mirda had risked everything in order to weave into the Pattern.
Besides, Lirith knew it was possible they would never see Travis again. Or Grace or Beltan, for that matter. But the thought was bitter comfort.
It was