Journey into the Void by Margaret Weis

“Bashae died a warrior’s death. He will be greatly honored by my people. To blame myself for his death would be to take away his victory. I will miss him,” he added more gently, “for he was my friend, but that is my loss, and I must deal with it.”
    â€œI wish it were that simple,” Shadamehr murmured. He started to bid the young warrior a safe journey, then remembered in time that one did not wish that for a Trevinici.
    â€œMay you fight many battles,” said Shadamehr. “And be victorious over your foes.”
    â€œI wish the same for you, my lord,” said Jessan.
    Shadamehr winced. “I’m not keen on the fighting part,” he admitted. “But I’ll take the victory over the foes portion of that wish.”
    He walked back to say good-bye to the Grandmother. He had grownvery fond of her in their brief time together, and he was going to miss her. He touched her gently upon the shoulder.
    â€œGrandmother, I came to tell you good-bye and to say how truly sorry I am for your loss. I will always honor Bashae as one of the bravest people I have ever known. If we all come out of this alive, I will make the story of his courage and loyalty known to the world.”
    The Grandmother looked up, the flames seeming still to flicker in her eyes, the smoke of the fire dimming them. “So long as you keep his story here,” she said, placing her hand over her heart, “that is all I ask. The rest of the world would not care much about it, except perhaps as a curiosity.”
    She fumbled about her skirts and her pouches, searching for something, and eventually brought out a turquoise. Eyeing it expertly, to make certain it was free of flaws, she pressed the stone into Shadamehr’s hand. The gift was a valuable one, for the pecwae believe the turquoise to have special powers of protection. He knew she used them for protection herself, and he didn’t want to rob her of it.
    â€œGrandmother, I thank you, but I can’t accept this—”
    â€œYes, you can,” she said. She gave an emphatic nod toward the fire. “I’ve seen where you are bound. You’re going to need it.”
    Shadamehr looked down at the turquoise, sky-blue, streaked with silver. It might come in handy, after all. Secreting the stone in the knapsack that held the Sovereign Stone, he bent down and kissed the Grandmother on her wrinkled cheek.
    â€œThank you, Grandmother. Have a safe journey.”
    â€œI would wish the same for you,” she stated, shaking her head, “but it would be wasted.”
    Very probably, Shadamehr thought.
    Lifting Alise, wrapped warmly in the folds of the blanket, he slung the knapsack over one shoulder and Alise’s inert body over the other. Clasping her by her legs, he felt extremely grateful that she was comatose, for, had she been awake, she would have protested loudly and indignantly at being hauled about like a sack of flour.
    Shadamehr accepted Maudie’s offer of a dark lantern. Keeping the lantern’s shutter closed, blocking off the light, he opened the door to the inn and peered out into the night. He estimated that he had about threehours until dawn. The street was empty. A fiery glow lit the sky not far away. The Tubby Tabby was still ablaze. Most of the patrols would be concentrated in that area, trying to put out the blaze.
    Calling a soft, final farewell, Shadamehr took firm hold of Alise and the knapsack containing the Sovereign Stone and slipped into the darkness.

S TANDING IN FRONT OF THE CROW AND RING, ULAF COULD SEE the fiery orange glow lighting the sky like a premature dawn, except that this glow meant sunset for the Tubby Tabby. The city guardsmen and magi would be fighting this magically induced blaze all night, effectively clearing the streets of patrols. Ulaf remained cautious, keeping to the shadows and staying clear of bright pools of light, for the Temple of the Magi was located near the Royal