The Seeker - Isobelle Carmody [123]
As soon as Erin’s footsteps faded, I crossed to the window facing the street and pulled aside a gauzy pleat of curtain. I peeped into the windswept street. A brilliant flash of lightning gave the fleeting impression of a blighted daytime. Then it was dark again.
I hoped nothing had happened to delay the others.
There was another flash of lightning, and I wondered uneasily at the building storm. I did not mind the rain but thought warily of firestorms and of a theory of Pavo’s that they were increasing in frequency in the lowlands. He had explained that they were not real storms, despite the lightning and thunder, but were an electrical imbalance in the complex forces holding the earth together—another legacy of the cataclysmic disturbance of the Great White. He could not explain why firestorm rain burned the skin, nor why that rain alone could extinguish the destructive flames that always preceded it. He was certain, though, that there had been no firestorms in the Beforetime.
The Herders also believed firestorms followed the holocaust but claimed they were sent by Lud and would continue ravaging the earth until the world was again pure. Naturally, the only way to achieve such a state of grace was to adhere to Herder doctrine. If there was a firestorm brewing, we could not think of escape. Firestorm flames burned even stone, but there would be more protection in the Druid encampment than in the open, at the mercy of the lethal flames.
Outside, the wind muttered sullenly, echoing my inner disquiet. Erin and her traditional lecture about the duties of a bondmate were the least of my worries. Though not yet told I was to be bonded that very night, I did not doubt it.
Scanning the length of the street visible from the window, I wondered anxiously if Kella had managed to get a message to Gilaine. She should have contacted her as soon as I was sent to the Druid’s house. Jow had decided that was the best time to make our move. But if they did not come …
More lightning flashed, followed by a sharp crack of thunder. The time lapse between the flashes and the thunder was growing shorter. Rain fell in light flurries, but the heaviness of the clouds illuminated in the intermittent light indicated a deluge was coming.
Hearing a movement at the door, I dropped the curtain and moved quickly away from the window. Erin came in cautiously, as if she had thought I would be waiting to attack her. Her hand rested lightly on the hilt of a short knife she wore in a jeweled waist scabbard.
“You have been sent here so that I can tell you some wonderful news,” Erin said, her eyes glittering vindictively. I was taken aback at the force of her dislike.
“Yes?” I asked calmly.
Her lips stretched across her teeth in a smile that looked more like a snarl. “You are to be bonded—to Relward.”
Knowing took the force out of my reaction, and I was glad to see her look disappointed. “This is your news?” I asked sourly.
For a moment, Erin looked nonplussed; then her cheeks mottled with anger. “You are to be bonded tonight,” she added viciously.
I shrugged. “I don’t bother with such things,” I said lethargically.
“You … w-what?” she stammered.
“What does it matter to be bonded or not? It is all the same in the dark,” I added crudely.
Her face reddened, and she stepped away from me as if she thought I would contaminate her. “You dare speak of such things to me?”
I shrugged. “If you don’t like such talk, why are you the one to tell me of this bonding?” Taking advantage of her loss of balance, I stepped toward her.
Her hand groped for the knife in her belt, and she held it up between us. “Stay back.” There was a loud noise in the street, and we both jumped. “What was that?”
“The wind?” I said quickly, stepping forward again in my haste to distract her.
She lifted the knife. “What’s going on?” she asked, suspicion flaring in her eyes. She backed to the door, holding the knife out menacingly.
Unable to think of a way to stop