Kellanved's Reach

But her twin shook his head. ‘No. I see possibilities. I should remain. You stay here in Kan. Keep an eye on things.’

Janelle nodded. ‘Thank you, brother. But … what possibilities?’ She took his hand.

‘These troops have been outlawed and are on the run, hunted by both Purge and Quon Talian armies with nowhere to turn.’

‘So?’

He shrugged, but a grin climbed his lips. ‘Well – they’re only a few days from the coast.’

Her eyes widened as she saw it, and she squeezed his hand before releasing it. ‘Yes. Go. I will try to make the arrangements, but I have not heard from the Magister of late.’

‘He is travelling beyond reach.’

Janelle gave a curt nod, accepting this. ‘Ah. Then I will contact one of our sisters working among the Claws.’

Janul seconded the nod. ‘Accepted. You will be all right?’

She waved him off. ‘Yes. Go. You may be missed.’

He rose, still reluctant, but she gave him a hug. ‘Thank you, brother.’

He nodded. ‘Very well. Until later.’

‘Yes.’

*   *   *

Ullara rode her two-wheeled cart northward across the rolling central Seti Plains. The sickly mule her father had given her – the least of his stock – flourished under her care. Free to eat as much wild grass as he liked, he filled out; his coat thickened and became glossy.

She had never been outside Li Heng proper, but she’d heard that northward lay the trading outpost of Ifaran, and beyond that would lie the barrier of the Brittlewash that ran down to meet the Idryn at Ipras. She understood that the headwaters of the Brittlewash could be found somewhere in the immense tracts of the Forest Fenn. And beyond that, everyone claimed, rose the vast mountains of the Great Fenn Range – which few, if any, had ever actually seen, let alone visited.

The Fenn Range was her goal, unrealistic though it might be – especially for a young blind girl all alone. Though she was not alone, not really. Her helpers and guardians hovered close, sometimes even perching upon the much-scarred wood of the cart, while the chief of her companions soared high above, taller than a man, able to bring down an adult bhederin: one of the giant eagles of the Fenn Range, whom she had given the name Prince. And her aim was to return him to his home.

She did not have to hunt, as her providers were many. Each day they came, depositing their offerings of the wild’s abundance: mice, voles, ferrets, mink, hares, badgers, and once Prince even dropped an entire rust-hued deer.

After that near disaster she trained them to bring her only the long-eared hares, which she preferred.

When evening came she would merely reach out to the mule, whom she’d named Bright, to halt, then climb down and unharness him to let him roam free. She could not see herself, but even when she did have eyes she’d always ‘borrowed’ the vision of her birds to see far and wide. Now she maintained these connections day and night and found that she could see far better now than with her old eyes. In fact, she could see better at night than during the day, and would even have travelled through the dark but for poor Bright.

She was also not alone on the wilds of the Seti plains. Fellow travellers skirted her, warily giving her distance, as did hunters and other such wanderers. Honest travellers, however, were not the only ones on the plains. Exiles, outcasts and other such criminals also haunted its hills. Early on, one such gang had chanced upon her trail. A young woman alone – they thought they’d found easy prey.

The moment the party closed upon the cart her companions tore their faces off and ate their viscera. She left their bodies where they lay as a warning to others. Word, she imagined, was spreading of the crazy woman, or whatever they were calling her, travelling northwards.

The only time she was truly alone was each evening when she made a modest fire and set her meal to cook on a stick. Her companions did not like the fire. During these times her vision occasionally failed her.

It was during one such evening, by the fire, west of the trading post of New Seti, that she had her first true visitors. Thanks to all her night-hunting companions, her night vision was sharp, and so she watched them approach: a band of Seti who dismounted at a respectful distance while one of their number closed upon her small fire. She recalled the strongest of her night hunters and waited.

Her visitor proved to be an old Seti woman wrapped in a thick shawl covered in feathers. The woman paused a short distance off and called, ‘May I share the warmth of your fire?’

‘Come.’

Sighing, the woman eased herself down close to the weak flames and extended her hands to the heat, such as it was. ‘My thanks. Hospitality is rare among you outsiders.’

‘What of your band who wait in the night?’

‘Band?’ the woman echoed, chuckling. She waved a dismissive hand. ‘Just my honour guard. I am Tolth, daughter of Amal, shaman of my clan – the Eagle Clan.’

‘Ullara, daughter of Renalt.’