Page 47 of Witchlight
Just as he understood what Alma replied: “I know.” Her eyes opened, but rather than look at her tribe’s leader, she gazed only at Caden with eyes of pure silver and ice. “I do not expect you to wait for me, Gretchya, but I also cannot let this Hell-Bard go alone. I will take him where these Threadstones lead.”
Ah.It wasn’t at all what Caden had wanted, and yet it was also deeply and desperately what he needed. “I will make sure she gets to Saldonica,” he told Gretchya in Dalmotti. “Whatever it takes, I will get her there.”
Gretchya didn’t respond. Nor did the rest of the tribe. If Caden had been able to see Threads, he imagined they would all be stretched like bowstrings about to snap. Until Alma, again, offered him a secret, almost-nothing smile.
“Tell me what to do,” he said to her. The stones were still blinking, beams of color to flash through gaps in her fist. “I don’t want to waste a single moment.”
“Nor do I.” Alma turned from him to bow, hands at her sides, at Gretchya. “I will see you again soon. May Moon Mother light your path.”
“And may Trickster never find you,” Gretchya replied.
It was all they exchanged before Alma laid her cold hands on Caden’s wrist. “Hurry, Hell-Bard. There is no time to waste.” She pulled, Caden moved, and the sun rose, unseen, behind thick clouds above them.
Dear Uncle,
Iseult and I are leaving to heal the Well. I know you’ll send troops after us, but please don’t. You won’t catch us—not before we reach Poznin, anyway. And the movement of your troops will only alert the Raider King that something comes his way.
You trained me for this moment. You, Mathew, and Habim. And you trained Iseult too, claiming it was because no one else could protect me like my Thread-family… But that wasn’t the whole story, was it? I see that now. My magic sees that now.
You knew all along what we were and what we were meant to do.
So please let us do it. Let us heal the final Well on our terms as the Cahr Awen. And if I don’t make it back, I hereby decree that you are my heir. A bit unorthodox, I know, but you’re the only family I have, and you’re a much better leader than I ever could be.
Just don’t screw it up.
—Safi
P.S. The crown is in my closet at the bottom of the trunk filled with those hideous gowns you insisted an empress needed.
P.P.S. Don’t kill Henrick. He’s actually pretty useful, if you give him enough books to read.
Kullen,
There are two new doorways in the mountain. The portal kind like Eridysi made a thousand years ago. On top of that, theolddoorways have reopened again—the ones I destroyed two months ago.
It shouldn’t be possible. I broke the Standing Stones in the meadow beside the Sightwitch Sister Convent. I severed the Threads that bound Sirmaya’s magic to those megaliths. That power was gone. The doorways were shut. So who could have opened them again? And who could have built new ones, too?
Part of me wants to leave the mountain right now and check the Standing Stones. See if I can find a clue. To build a magic doorway, you need a stone from the destination—abigstone. And then you need to anchor Sirmaya’s Threads to that stone. Eridysi figured out how to do it a thousand years ago, and it’s not easy magic. In fact, no one but a Sightwitch should be able to do it, and sinceIam the last Sightwitch Sister…
I cannot leave my work in the Crypts to go searching for answers. Things are so unstable in the mountain. Quakes rattle through every few hours, and the sleeping ice covers everything. Any magic it can find, it tries to claim.
I only know of the new doors because the Rook has brought me a map—themap I drew for you. But someone has added these doorways. I sent the Rook to check, and he tells me in his bird way that they are real.
Goddess, I wish you’d wake up. I wish Sirmaya would release you. But now I’m really starting to fear that will never happen. Not while she needs every scrap of power she can claim. Otherwise, all the Witchlands will die. All the Witchlands will cleave.
Butyouare my focus. The taro cards tell me so, every day.LadyFate, the Cleaved Man,andthe Paladin of Hounds.That is all they will ever show me when I draw from the deck. So I will stay focused on you.
You’re important. I always knew that, and I only grow more certain of it each day.
I love you.
—Ryber
TWENTY-TWO
For three days, Iseult pushed everyone as hard as their horses would allow. After all, Eron must have sent people after them; they needed to be so far ahead, his riders could never catch up.
In some ways, it was good they had nothing more than three Nomatsi packs to sustain them. They were lighter, faster. And in some ways, it wasverygood they had Aeduan. Without their food supplies, now burned to ash, his magic let them find rabbits and fowl that would otherwise stay hidden in the snow.
