owlishly.
You visit your
“
garden
”
every night
.
“Also necessary, or I am afflicted with involuntary visions of all you villains.”
He cocked his head to one side.
When was the last time you had a vision?
“Midwinter. It was a vision of you, if you recall. You were aware of me.”
I was looking for you
, he said.
I caused that vision, reaching out. But before that?
I shook my head at him, perplexed. “I don’t remember. Not for years. I tend my garden religiously.”
Ha
, he said, lying down at last, his face thoughtful.
I suspect you mean
superstitiously.
You should try ignoring it. See what happens
.
“Not while we’re traveling,” I said, taking my kettle off the fire. “What if a vision bowled me right off my horse?”
He didn’t answer. I turned to look at him and saw that he’d fallen asleep.
Early the next morning, we were mostly dressed when our escort came to wake us. I was still lacing up my riding breeches—thank Allsaints I’d had them padded—and wore only my linen shirt up top, but Abdo answered the door anyway. In filed Josquin, Moy, and Nan, unconcerned about my state of disarray, bearing a hot loaf and crumbly goat cheese. They set up breakfast on the floor, since our room had no table; I put on my blue wool doublet and joined them.
Captain Moy moved the cheese to one side and spread a parchment map of Ninys before us on the floor. From a pouch at his waist, he fetched a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles and perched them incongruously on his nose. “Now,” he said, accepting a hunk of bread from his daughter, who was hacking at the loaf with her dagger, “where do you expect to find these half-dragon ladies?”
Nan’s eyes flashed briefly to my face when he said
half-dragon
, plainly curious.
“Unfortunately,” I said, “I don’t know Ninys at all. I see the others in visions, but only their immediate surroundings. That doesn’t tell me much.”
Moy seemed genuinely, absurdly delighted by my answer. “That’s the challenge. Two women, one large country. If you’re not back in Segosh in six weeks, Samsam will declare war on us—”
“No, they won’t,” said Josquin hastily, in case I couldn’t tell Moy was exaggerating. “But my cousin will.”
Moy shrugged and grinned. “We three know Ninys well. Describe what you’ve seen.”
I knew most about Bluey, the painter whose avatar left colorful swirls in water. “One paints murals. She’s doing a St. Jobertus now—I don’t know where—but previously she painted an amazing St. Fionnuala at Meshi.”
“Santi Fionani?” asked Nan. That was the Ninysh name for the Lady of Waters.
Moy jabbed a finger at a city along a river east of central Ninys. “How do you know it was Meshi?”
“I got lucky,” I said. “I once saw her outdoors, and glimpsed the city banner.”
“The one that says Meshi, under a pine,” said Josquin around a lump of cheese.
“They’re subtle in that part of the country,” said Moy. His daughter unscrewed the lid from a pot of ink and carefully dabbed a red dot next to the city with a brush.
“The priest at Santi Fionani’s may know where she went next,” said Josquin. “And Meshi was on Dame Okra’s list ofstrategically important lords, for the sulfur mine, no doubt. We would stop there in any case.”
This was encouraging. I hazarded a description of the second ityasaari, Glimmerghost: “The other woman lives a hermetic existence in a great pine forest—”
“The Pinabra,” said Moy, without blinking. “Meshi is at its western edge.”
Josquin made a sweeping gesture at the map. “It’s a large region, though. It rings the eastern mountains like a skirt.”
“Zat is place to get lost,” Nan said hesitantly. It was the first Goreddi I’d heard her speak. Her accent was poor, although she seemed to follow the conversation well enough.
“One thing at a time,” said Moy. “Meshi is goal enough for now, with plenty of palashos for us to visit between here
You visit your
“
garden
”
every night
.
“Also necessary, or I am afflicted with involuntary visions of all you villains.”
He cocked his head to one side.
When was the last time you had a vision?
“Midwinter. It was a vision of you, if you recall. You were aware of me.”
I was looking for you
, he said.
I caused that vision, reaching out. But before that?
I shook my head at him, perplexed. “I don’t remember. Not for years. I tend my garden religiously.”
Ha
, he said, lying down at last, his face thoughtful.
I suspect you mean
superstitiously.
You should try ignoring it. See what happens
.
“Not while we’re traveling,” I said, taking my kettle off the fire. “What if a vision bowled me right off my horse?”
He didn’t answer. I turned to look at him and saw that he’d fallen asleep.
Early the next morning, we were mostly dressed when our escort came to wake us. I was still lacing up my riding breeches—thank Allsaints I’d had them padded—and wore only my linen shirt up top, but Abdo answered the door anyway. In filed Josquin, Moy, and Nan, unconcerned about my state of disarray, bearing a hot loaf and crumbly goat cheese. They set up breakfast on the floor, since our room had no table; I put on my blue wool doublet and joined them.
Captain Moy moved the cheese to one side and spread a parchment map of Ninys before us on the floor. From a pouch at his waist, he fetched a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles and perched them incongruously on his nose. “Now,” he said, accepting a hunk of bread from his daughter, who was hacking at the loaf with her dagger, “where do you expect to find these half-dragon ladies?”
Nan’s eyes flashed briefly to my face when he said
half-dragon
, plainly curious.
“Unfortunately,” I said, “I don’t know Ninys at all. I see the others in visions, but only their immediate surroundings. That doesn’t tell me much.”
Moy seemed genuinely, absurdly delighted by my answer. “That’s the challenge. Two women, one large country. If you’re not back in Segosh in six weeks, Samsam will declare war on us—”
“No, they won’t,” said Josquin hastily, in case I couldn’t tell Moy was exaggerating. “But my cousin will.”
Moy shrugged and grinned. “We three know Ninys well. Describe what you’ve seen.”
I knew most about Bluey, the painter whose avatar left colorful swirls in water. “One paints murals. She’s doing a St. Jobertus now—I don’t know where—but previously she painted an amazing St. Fionnuala at Meshi.”
“Santi Fionani?” asked Nan. That was the Ninysh name for the Lady of Waters.
Moy jabbed a finger at a city along a river east of central Ninys. “How do you know it was Meshi?”
“I got lucky,” I said. “I once saw her outdoors, and glimpsed the city banner.”
“The one that says Meshi, under a pine,” said Josquin around a lump of cheese.
“They’re subtle in that part of the country,” said Moy. His daughter unscrewed the lid from a pot of ink and carefully dabbed a red dot next to the city with a brush.
“The priest at Santi Fionani’s may know where she went next,” said Josquin. “And Meshi was on Dame Okra’s list ofstrategically important lords, for the sulfur mine, no doubt. We would stop there in any case.”
This was encouraging. I hazarded a description of the second ityasaari, Glimmerghost: “The other woman lives a hermetic existence in a great pine forest—”
“The Pinabra,” said Moy, without blinking. “Meshi is at its western edge.”
Josquin made a sweeping gesture at the map. “It’s a large region, though. It rings the eastern mountains like a skirt.”
“Zat is place to get lost,” Nan said hesitantly. It was the first Goreddi I’d heard her speak. Her accent was poor, although she seemed to follow the conversation well enough.
“One thing at a time,” said Moy. “Meshi is goal enough for now, with plenty of palashos for us to visit between here
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