The Riddle - Alison Croggon [49]
Maerad laughed and kissed Ankil’s cheeks, sniffing his fresh, almost astringent smell, clean and neutral as mountain grass. She looked around the flower-starred meadow, mentally farewelling each goat by name, and then she sighed and picked up her pack and stepped down to join Elenxi and Nerili, who awaited them at the foot of the steps.
The previous weeks had been a holiday, a blessed restoration, a chance to rectify some of Maerad’s worst areas of ignorance. She was no longer the naive girl who had left Gilman’s Cot only that spring: she knew enough now to be much more than a passive passenger of fate. She and Cadvan were outcasts, fleeing both Light and Dark, seeking a mysterious goal of which they knew almost nothing. But now, instead of quailing before her future, a part of Maerad leaped to meet it with exhilaration and a bittersweet gladness that they were beginning at last.
THEY spent that night at Velissos, planning to set off for the coast early the following day. Elenxi was to guide them to Nisa, a tiny harbor in the north of Thorold, where they would meet up with Owan and thence sail to the peninsula of Gent. Their way led them through the Thorold mountains, but to Maerad’s relief, Elenxi said they did not need to cross over them: a deep winding valley, known as the Snake’s Belly or the Idoiravis, would take them to the northern plateau without any rock climbing. From there it was a relatively simple ride to Nisa, which would take them three or four days at most. Snuggling into her bed, Maerad pondered the difference she saw in Nerili. The subterranean shifts of feeling between the older Bards that Maerad had found so disturbing seemed to have vanished altogether. They now spoke together as old friends will, easily and fondly.
Perhaps as a result, Cadvan seemed less constrained with Nerili. Maybe Nerili understands something she didn’t before now, Maerad thought. About what the Dark is, inside as well as outside. Maybe she’s forgiven Cadvan something. . . . But it felt impertinent to speculate any further, and that was her last conscious thought before she drifted into a dreamless sleep.
They rose before the sun, when fog wreathed itself between the pines and larches that straggled up the hills, and they saddled and loaded up the horses they had left at Velissos nearly a month before. After they packed, they had a quick breakfast. Nerili farewelled Maerad and Cadvan in the tavern’s front room, booted and cloaked for her own journey to Busk, her long dark hair streaming down her shoulders.
“I will not keep you,” she said somberly, kissing Cadvan and Maerad formally on their foreheads. “I send you with all our blessings and all our hopes. Only you, I feel it in my heart, have any hope of unriddling this strange quest. You will find help on your road, perhaps when you least expect it, as much as you find danger. May the Light protect you!”
“And you, also,” said Cadvan. He smiled his rare brilliant smile and kissed Nerili’s hands. “All is not dark, Neri, not yet. And though we walk through perils unnumbered, we will carry with us the blessings of those who have given us their friendship and love. And that is a shield from the worst despair, in all places — even in the dungeons of the Nameless One himself.”
Maerad thought she saw a faint flush rise in Nerili’s cheeks, though she held herself as proudly as before. “That seems a little grandiose for my humble blessings,” she said. “But if you say it is so, then it is so, since you have been in such dungeons and I have not.”
Nerili turned then to Maerad. “I give you no gifts but the blessings of Thorold,” she said. “I do not wish to burden you. Go well!”
“The gifts you have already given are more than enough,” Maerad answered. “May the Light shine on your path.” A catch in her throat took her by surprise, and she turned hastily and walked swiftly to the door, where Elenxi was standing impatiently, tapping his foot. They swung onto their waiting