The Dark Remains - Mark Anthony [210]
“If we did,” Vani said, “would we not have journeyed there and dug it up already?”
Great. He and Grace were fated to do something no one had any idea how to do—least of all themselves.
Sareth held his hands toward the fire. “The cards only tell us what will happen, not how. Or when. For all we know, it could be years from now that you journey to Morindu. And right now there are other secrets to concern us. Ones that, unlike those of Morindu, have already been exhumed.”
Durge grunted. “How about telling us the secret of why you have been following us ever since Ar-tolor.”
The Mournish man sighed. “I suppose that is as good a place as any to begin. I am sorry for any mistrust I have caused with my silence. However, it is not usually our way to speak with outsiders. Only the urgency of events causes me to do so now. As does the nature of those to whom I am speaking. But to answer your question, my good cloud, we followed you from Ar-tolor for the same reason we journeyed there in the first place: to keep watch.”
Lirith drew her knees to her chest. “But why?”
Sareth opened his mouth, but Grace was faster. That analytical mind of hers, Travis knew.
“Because we’re your friends, Lirith. They think Travis and I are going to help find their lost city, but then we went back to Earth, so they decided to keep an eye on all of you in case we showed up, figuring you’d be the first people we’d contact here on Eldh.”
Sareth laughed softly. “It seems we Mournish are not so mysterious as we would like to believe. What you speak is true. Our seers told us the one we sought would be a wizard of northern magic, yet that he would not come from the north but rather another world. That was why Vani dared to use the artifact to journey to your Earth.” He looked at Travis. “Then, when we heard the tales about what you did at Calavere last Midwinter’s Eve, we knew you had to be the one. However, before we could reach Calavere, you had returned to your world.”
Sareth stirred the coals, sending sparks snapping upward. “A few months ago, we learned that you had returned to Eldh, but the ravages of the Burning Plague made travel difficult, and by the time we reached Castle Spardis in Perridon, you were both already gone. But we kept watch on your companions. And I sent word to Vani that you had returned to your world once again.”
A thought occurred to Travis. “Sareth, Vani never explained something to us. How were you able to use the artifact to send messages to her?”
The Mournish man’s eyes glittered, and he pulled down the sleeves of his shirt. But not before Travis caught the pale gleam of scars in the firelight.
“I thought you said the Mournish were forbidden to work blood sorcery.”
“Sometimes that which is forbidden must be done in order to prevent a far greater danger.”
Travis thought maybe he understood. In a way, it was like Farr’s dispensation from the Seekers. Rules were made to protect people, but sometimes the rules had to be broken in order to save them. While it took a fairy’s blood to send a person through the gate, it seemed human blood was enough to send words.
Aryn edged closer to the fire. “So when we left Artolor, Sareth, you followed us here to Tarras.”
“That is partly true. But there is another reason we had to journey to Tarras.”
Falken looked up. “The murdered gods. You know what’s happening, don’t you? You know how and why they’re being slain.”
“And we spent all this time trying to find the murderer,” Aryn said. “Why didn’t you just tell us, Sareth?”
The Mournish man gave a bitter smile. “Wagons are not so swift as ships, fair lady. You arrived in Tarras several days before us. I did not reach the city until the day the Scirathi attempted to harm you, beshala.” He said these last words to Lirith, his eyes intent.
Lirith did not meet his eyes. “The Scirathi. You mean one like the sorcerer who attacked Grace and Travis on their world.”
Sareth nodded. “Although there was something strange about the sorcerer of Scirath who attacked you, beshala. What,