It felt so vague… like one of his kin off at a distance. And yet not quite like them.
The majay-hlwere descended from the first born-Fay, born into flesh within wolves. Over many generations, the majay-hl had become the "touched" guardians of these lands.
But there were others, it seemed, as Chap had almost forgotten.
Within this deer, the trace of its ancestry was stronger than in the majay-hl, the lingering of born-Fay who had taken flesh in the form of deer and elk.
Chap crept forward to stand below the tall creature-this touched child of his own kin. It stretched out one foreleg and bent the other, until its head came low enough to reach his. Chap pressed his forehead to the deer's, smelling its heavy musk and breath marked by a meal of wild grass and sunflowers. He recalled the memories of Nein'a that he had shared with Lily.
The deer shoved Chap away, nearly knocking him off his feet. It stood silent and waiting.
What had he done wrong?
Lily slid her head in next to his, muzzle against muzzle. Images-and sounds-filled his mind.
A majay-hl howling in the dark.An elven boy calling to another. Singing birds, jabbering fra'cise, and the indignant screech of the tashgalh he had trailed out of the mountain tunnels.
Chap grasped the common thread. The deer wanted a sound. He approached as it lowered its head once more.
With the image of Nein'a in the clearing, Chap called forth a memory of her voice… and that of any who had ever spoken her name.
Nein'a… Cuirin'nen'a… Mother…
Wynn scurried around a domicile tree closest to the forest's edge. She still did not know why there was no one on guard outside, and she could not find
Chap anywhere. But as she turned to go back before being discovered, she heard footsteps.
She ducked low into hiding behind a tree, hoping whoever it was would just pass onward. As she leaned carefully out, she never made it far enough to see.
Wynn's vision spun blackly on a wave of nausea.
Her legs buckled, and she slumped down against the tree's base, clinging to its bulging roots as she covered her mouth and tried not to gag. Bisselber-ries and smoked fish rose in her throat from the evening meal, and the combined taste turned sour.
The loud buzz of an insect or crackling rustle of a leaf in the wind filled her head.
There were no insects and not even a breeze around her in the dark.
Wynn had not heard these in her mind for more than a moon. The last time was at the border of the Warlands.
Somewhere out in the forest, Chap now called to the Fay.
It had all started with a ritual in Droevinka, when she tried to make herself see the Spirit element that permeated all things. She had been trying to track an undead for Magiere, and then could not end the magic coursing through her flesh. Chap had to cleanse the mantic sight from her. But on the border at Soladran, it began to return in unexpected ways. She heard the buzz of leaf-winged insects whenever Chap communed with his kin.
Wynn swallowed her food back down, trying to quiet her gagging breaths. She braced for the onslaught of Chap's kin answering back in a chorus of leaf-wings that would make her head ache and the world whirl before her eyes.
It never came. Only one leaf-wing buzzed in her mind. The sound began to shape into…
Nein'a… Cuirin'nen'a… Mother…
A chill ran over Wynn's skin.
Words?They came in theElvish dialect of this land. Beneath those were the same echoed in Belaskian and in her own tongue ofNumanese. One voice spoke in many tongues at the same time, all words with the same meaning. Again, no chorus answered back.
Who didChap call out to? Had he found Leesil's mother so close by? He would never try to commune with her-it would not work. To Chap's own knowledge, Wynn was the only one who had ever eavesdropped on him while communing with his kin. And she had never heard words before.
The buzz faded from her mind, leaving only a lingering ache.
But she had clearly heard those words.
There was no time to ponder another disturbing change in her unwanted gift. Chap was out in the forest, seeking Nein'a, and Wynn could not let him go on his own. How did he think he would speak with Nein'a, even if he found her prison?
Wynn braced on the tree's trunk and worked her way to her feet. She looked out into the wild and panic set in.
She could not navigate the forest without someone to lead her. It did not want her… a human. Even traveling with the others, it had tried to make her lost. Leesil, with his half-elven blood, had to concentrate to escape the forest's influence.
For once, Wynn wished the burden of mantic sight would come. But unpleasant as it was, it only came to her erratically. Once, it had overwhelmed her while she was alone with Chap, her fingers deep in his fur.
Wynn forced down fear until she reached calm. She closed her eyes, recalling all the sensations she had felt in that moment alone with Chap. She sank into memory until it blocked out all else.
Chap had sat before her, staring into her eyes. The room turned shadowy beneath the overlaid off-white mist just shy of blue. It permeated everything like a second view of the room on top of her normal sight, showing where the element of Spirit was strong or weak. Chap was the only thing she saw as one image, one whole shape.
His fur glistened like a million hazy threads of white silk, and his eyes scintillated like crystals held before the sun.
Wynn opened her eyes, and her food lurched up her throat once more.
Blue-white mist permeated all things of the forest. She felt so sick inside that it dampened any relief at her success.
Wynn stepped into the forest, and the trees began to look the same all around.
She turned too quickly, searching for the way she had come. The world spun in a dizzying blur. Breath pounded from her lungs when she hit the ground on her side, and she struggled up to her hands and knees.
"Only themist… see only Spirit," Wynn whispered.
She tried to ignore the trees' true shapes and focus only on the permeating glimmer of Spirit in all things. Nausea sharpened, but as she turned her head, a sense of place became clearer.
Wynn saw glimmering silhouettes of trees and bushes, one overlaying the next into the distance, like silent blue-white ghosts in stillness. And beyond was a cluster of bright spots far off.
They moved, circling about each other like fireflies in the night. Three were higher above the rest, and one of those was larger than the others. A fourth glimmer separated from the largest one and shone in a sharp brilliant white.
Chap.
Wynn knew it was him. She scrambled on all fours to the nearest tree, pulledherself up, and stumbled toward him as her beacon.
Fully dressed again, Leesil pulled the bathing area's curtain aside enough to step out.
The press of Magiere s body in the hot bath still lingered on his skin. He loved her, but would she still love him when she realized he was only a thing to be used for killing? How long before she could no longer face what he really was? He would have to let her go, if that was her choice.
Knowledge of the pain yet to come felt like almost an illness in his body.
He wondered why she kept shaking slightly while immersed in the hot water.
He'd asked if she was all right. She hesitated, saying it was nothing more than all this mess they were in. Leesil knew better, but battling with Magiere was too much to face. He'd rather have one more quiet moment in her arms.
She wasn't sleeping well either, and ate too little each day. Yet she showed no more fatigue thanhimself, perhaps less.
"There has to be some way to get around Most Aged Father," Magiere said behind him, pulling her boots on.
Leesil wasn't really listening. Bowls of cold vegetable stew and a pitcher of water sat to one side of the room's floor. Wynn's scribbled sheets still lay on the ground where Chap had left them.