know why. Behave yourself.”
“My loyalty is to Father,” Peta said. “As I’ve told you countless times, I’ll do nothing to endanger him.”
“Blah-blah-blah,” Vedana said.
“I must warn you again that my visions are becoming more and more fallible.”
“Oh, don’t worry your little head. Mother has everything under control. Just keep your eye on Rathburt. Oh wait, I forgot . . . you can’t see anything.”
“You’re not as funny as you imagine yourself to be, Vedana.”
“ Vedana , is it now? What happened to calling me Mother? Oh, never mind! As I said before, just be sure to behave yourself. And don’t you dare have any wild parties while I’m gone.”
Then the demon vanished.
AT DUSK, TĀSETI, Kithar, and Silah sprinted from the camp, each carrying a goatskin of boiled water, a pack of Cirāya , their uttaras and daggers, and their slings and beads. Speed was of the essence. There would be little time for eating or sleeping over the next several days.
Soon after they departed, Kithar split from the trio and headed due east. His orders were to cross Barranca, the rocky wasteland that partially encircled the great desert Tējo, as quickly as possible and locate allies who could lend aid to the much-slower company he’d left behind.
Though Barranca was truly an inhospitable wasteland, Tējo was more heavily populated than most outsiders realized. The Tugars numbered more than twenty thousand all told, yet they were in the minority. Many of the permanent desert dwellers were allies of Anna, and all of them feared the Tugars. It would not be difficult to encounter willing assistance or to intimidate unwilling assistance. At this point, either would be acceptable.
When Tāseti and Silah entered the rocky border of Barranca, they continued to follow Tathagata’s trail. It wasn’t difficult to do. The High Nun was making no effort to conceal her tracks. Surprisingly, though, her path turned abruptly north.
“I no longer need you with me,” Tāseti said. “This is my task and mine alone. Do as Kithar has been ordered and search for help inside Tējo. And be quick: the noble ones’ lives are at stake.”
“As you say, Asēkha.” Then Silah bid her farewell and sprinted eastward.
Tāseti was alone.
This stretch of Barranca was nearly devoid of life. Scattered among large tracts of spiny limestone were pools of black mud, a few of which bore footprints barely half the size of a Tugar’s. There also was dried blood on the rocks that contained dead worms, each about the length of a fingernail and width of a blade of grass. These undines , at least, would cause no further harm.
Tāseti guessed that the fiend she tracked was a half-day ahead, which meant she had made up little ground, thus far. The fiend was shambling faster than Tāseti would have believed possible.
Just after midnight, something approached from the north. Tāseti’s heart skipped a beat, but the shape was far too large to be human. She raced toward it at a full run, managing through grace and skill to avoid stumbling or twisting an ankle. When she came near enough, she saw with joy that it was Chieftain. The gelding raised his head and whinnied. Tāseti laughed.
“Good boy!” She hugged the horse’s neck and patted his crest. Chieftain pressed his muzzle against her face. She was surprised to find that it was soaking wet. The horse recently had drunk, though she knew of no water within several leagues.
If they had been on less difficult ground, Tāseti would have mounted the gelding and continued her search on horseback. But the landscape of Barranca was more precarious for the gelding than for her.
“I’ll have to go on without you,” she said to Chieftain. “You can follow, if you like, and catch up with me later.”
It saddened Tāseti more than it should have to leave the horse behind, and she was worried that he would injure himself trying to stay with her, but there was too much at stake to give it
“My loyalty is to Father,” Peta said. “As I’ve told you countless times, I’ll do nothing to endanger him.”
“Blah-blah-blah,” Vedana said.
“I must warn you again that my visions are becoming more and more fallible.”
“Oh, don’t worry your little head. Mother has everything under control. Just keep your eye on Rathburt. Oh wait, I forgot . . . you can’t see anything.”
“You’re not as funny as you imagine yourself to be, Vedana.”
“ Vedana , is it now? What happened to calling me Mother? Oh, never mind! As I said before, just be sure to behave yourself. And don’t you dare have any wild parties while I’m gone.”
Then the demon vanished.
AT DUSK, TĀSETI, Kithar, and Silah sprinted from the camp, each carrying a goatskin of boiled water, a pack of Cirāya , their uttaras and daggers, and their slings and beads. Speed was of the essence. There would be little time for eating or sleeping over the next several days.
Soon after they departed, Kithar split from the trio and headed due east. His orders were to cross Barranca, the rocky wasteland that partially encircled the great desert Tējo, as quickly as possible and locate allies who could lend aid to the much-slower company he’d left behind.
Though Barranca was truly an inhospitable wasteland, Tējo was more heavily populated than most outsiders realized. The Tugars numbered more than twenty thousand all told, yet they were in the minority. Many of the permanent desert dwellers were allies of Anna, and all of them feared the Tugars. It would not be difficult to encounter willing assistance or to intimidate unwilling assistance. At this point, either would be acceptable.
When Tāseti and Silah entered the rocky border of Barranca, they continued to follow Tathagata’s trail. It wasn’t difficult to do. The High Nun was making no effort to conceal her tracks. Surprisingly, though, her path turned abruptly north.
“I no longer need you with me,” Tāseti said. “This is my task and mine alone. Do as Kithar has been ordered and search for help inside Tējo. And be quick: the noble ones’ lives are at stake.”
“As you say, Asēkha.” Then Silah bid her farewell and sprinted eastward.
Tāseti was alone.
This stretch of Barranca was nearly devoid of life. Scattered among large tracts of spiny limestone were pools of black mud, a few of which bore footprints barely half the size of a Tugar’s. There also was dried blood on the rocks that contained dead worms, each about the length of a fingernail and width of a blade of grass. These undines , at least, would cause no further harm.
Tāseti guessed that the fiend she tracked was a half-day ahead, which meant she had made up little ground, thus far. The fiend was shambling faster than Tāseti would have believed possible.
Just after midnight, something approached from the north. Tāseti’s heart skipped a beat, but the shape was far too large to be human. She raced toward it at a full run, managing through grace and skill to avoid stumbling or twisting an ankle. When she came near enough, she saw with joy that it was Chieftain. The gelding raised his head and whinnied. Tāseti laughed.
“Good boy!” She hugged the horse’s neck and patted his crest. Chieftain pressed his muzzle against her face. She was surprised to find that it was soaking wet. The horse recently had drunk, though she knew of no water within several leagues.
If they had been on less difficult ground, Tāseti would have mounted the gelding and continued her search on horseback. But the landscape of Barranca was more precarious for the gelding than for her.
“I’ll have to go on without you,” she said to Chieftain. “You can follow, if you like, and catch up with me later.”
It saddened Tāseti more than it should have to leave the horse behind, and she was worried that he would injure himself trying to stay with her, but there was too much at stake to give it
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