The Spirit Stone - Katharine Kerr [74]
‘What’s Bardek like?’ Morwen said. ‘I’ve never heard anything about it but the name.’
‘You wouldn’t, up in Pyrdon.’ Tirro thought for a moment. ‘Um, well, I’ve not been there yet, mind. But lots of Bardek folk come to Cerrmor.’
‘I’ve heard they’re black as pitch,’ Loddlaen said.
‘What? That’s just one of those silly things people say. Some have dark skin, truly, but most are just brown or tan, and a few look no different from Deverry folk.’
‘That’s truly interesting.’ Loddlaen leaned forward. ‘I’ve often wondered what it would be like to go to Bardek.’
‘When I’m a rich merchant with my own ship, you can come with me.’ Tirro paused to smile. ‘Well, assuming I truly do get rich and own a ship some day. There’s a bit of work ahead of me twixt now and then.’
They all laughed. Loddlaen proceeded to ask a good many questions, keeping Tirro talking about the Bardekians and his own city of Cerrmor, too, a place that seemed as exotic to Morwen as those foreign islands far across the Southern Sea. They finished the dinner, and Loddlaen brought out a skin of mead, something Morwen had never tasted. Since it was made from honey, Morwen was expecting it to be sweet; its dry sharp taste surprised her, and she took only a couple of small sips for the sake of politeness.
Loddlaen and Tirro talked on, passing the skin back and forth, while Morwen let her mind wander, worrying about Evan despite her best efforts to enjoy herself without him. She was just thinking that she might as well leave when she suddenly felt she was being watched. She turned around to look.
By then night had fallen, and they sat in a pool of firelight on the edge of darkness. Behind her the grassland stretched out seemingly forever, half-seen in the faint starlight. There’s naught there, she told herself, but in the instant she had the thought, she saw and recognized the elven woman she’d seen on the journey west. She was standing just beyond the light. In one hand she carried an unstrung bow, and a quiver of arrows hung at her hip.
Morwen got up and walked a few steps to greet her. The woman smiled at her, but her eyes were pools of sadness.
‘Have you found your daughter?’ Morwen said.
‘I’ve not, but it’s very kind of you to ask.’
‘It saddens my heart to think you’ve lost her.’
‘Does it? Then my blessings upon you, child.’
At that moment the woman began to change. She grew taller, grew huge, towering above Morwen, smiling down at her as she stretched out one hand to bless her. Her hair now hung around her face in a shining golden mane, decorated with jewels. Her clothing, a medley of greens, shimmered and rustled as if she stood in a private wind. Her bow gleamed with gold, and gems studded her quiver.
From behind her Morwen heard Tirro yelping in surprise and the sounds of the two men scrambling to their feet.
‘The nine in one,’ Morwen whispered. ‘All goddesses in one vast soul.’
‘Not her, but myself alone. I am Alshandra.’ The woman’s voice sounded like a silver gong, struck for each word. ‘I am the huntress from the edge of the stars.’
She floated free of the ground, then hovered for a moment, smiling upon them all. All at once she vanished, leaving Morwen shaking and cold.
‘The goddess.’ Tirro was trembling, too. He stretched out his arms to the sky. ‘The goddess came to us.’
‘I’m not so sure of that,’ Morwen said. ‘What?’ Tirro’s voice squealed indignantly. ‘How would you know?’
‘I’ve studied at the temple, that’s how. She didn’t have the right attributes, and besides, she claimed she wasn’t—well, I can’t tell you that bit of lore. It’s secret.’
‘Oh how very convenient for you! I say she’s a goddess.’
‘She’s not. I don’t know what she was, mind, but she wasn’t the goddess I’ve gone to worship at the Temple of the Moon.’
‘Oh very well, another goddess, then!’ Tirro turned on her with a snarl in his voice. ‘What does it matter?