Mindbond by Nancy Springer Page A

began to strip her of her gear. I turned likewise to Talu. Whether disturbed by our actions or merely because the sun was sinking, the seals ambled away or slithered into the water. Tassida stood watching us with a puzzled frown.
    â€œYou are staying here? But you have brought no sleeping robes, no food.”
    â€œNone needed for a vigil,” Kor said.
    We walked the horses farther southward along the shore, beyond the Greenstones, and turned them loose, sending them away with a shout. Forested mountain slopes rose up from the sea, rocks full of whistlers and pikas and viper nests. And there would be leavings on the beach as well, dead fish—Talu, for one, loved fish, the riper the better. We hoped the horses would be able to fend for themselves so as not to take food from Kor’s people. We hoped, perhaps, that they would be waiting for us when we came back. Though we scarcely dared to expect it. As to the coming back itself, we scarcely dared to expect.
    Tassida watched us, wide-eyed.
    â€œYou two—you truly think you can bring back Tyonoc from the realm of the dead.”
    The wary look on her face made me think of Istas and the way she had seen us off, silent, suspicious, half-fearful after hearing Tassida’s song. Whether Tass had intended the ballad for that purpose, or for whatever purpose, there had been no protests in Istas since. No nattering, no chewing on the outcome. No talk of safeguards, a retinue. No protests from any of Kor’s kindred, least of all from Olpash. I had to smile, but the smile washed away as if with the tide, for I was afraid.
    â€œWe don’t think it,” Kor replied, grim. “We go to do whatever task awaits us. Thinking is of no use.”
    He took off his sword, and I mine. It was dusk, the sun had sunk, the sea washed dim. We carried the swords into a cave beneath the cliffs, not far from another cave I remembered from another time, and the stones in the pommels shone red and yellow, lighting our way with a sundown glow. On a ledge at the farthest indeeps of the cave, out of the reach of tides, we laid them down, blades crossed, and laid our hands on them for a moment, letting our fingers touch in the whisper of light, faint as starlight, and we bade farewell to the weapons we scarcely understood.
    Tassida had followed us. “They will be safe there?” she said, more a plaint than a question. I noticed that her voice was shaking.
    â€œThey should be,” I told her. “Have you ever tried to touch one of these swords not your own?”
    â€œNo. Mine—came to me.”
    â€œIf I tried to take it from you, it would cut me. Slice off my hand, if need be.” I smiled, remembering the cut Kor’s sword had given me when I had been foolish enough to try to capture it for him, and stepping toward her I raised my hand to show it to her.
    She turned and ran out of the cave.
    Shrugging, I followed. Kor followed. Tass was swinging up onto Calimir.
    â€œOff again?” Kor called, his voice low.
    â€œYes. You two terrify me.” Nevertheless, she quirked an odd smile at us. “Take your horse gear back to Seal Hold?” she offered.
    It would keep better there than in the cave. We handed it up to her, deerskin riding blankets and leather headstalls. Dusk was darkening. Though I looked intently, I could scarcely see her face.
    â€œFarewell. Gentle journey to you. I—” For a moment her hands touched ours, Kor’s and mine, and I felt something for which I had no words. Not even the name of love described it. Perhaps she felt it too, and it made her forget what she wanted to say. She ducked her head, stammering, and pulled her hands away. “Blast it,” I heard her mumble, and then she sent Calimir springing landward. We watched him gallop, a dark shape against the pale sand of the beach.
    Just as we were about to lose sight of her in the twisted spruces, she reined him in and turned back toward us. Perhaps