"This doesn't frighten you?" U'Selle asked.
"I don't frighten easily, A'Laq. And I believe that what I'm doing is necessary. I knew there was a risk when I began. If E'Menua finds out, so be it."
U'Selle eyed the man for several moments, tapping a finger to her lips. "You're a most unusual man, Grinsa of the Forelands. Did you really have the plague?"
"Yes, I did."
"And these Mettai cured you of it?"
"That's right."
She considered this. "But E'Menua doesn't believe you, does he?"
The man smiled. "No, he doesn't."
U'Selle nodded, though she continued to stare at him. "Why should this matter to you so much? I understand that if you're living in his sept he's your a'laq, and you don't want him doubting your word. But you've gone to a great deal of trouble to tell me all of this. There must he more to it than that."
He said nothing.
"Explain this to me, Forelander. You don't seem to fear E'Menua, but I can't imagine you want him to know about this conversation. Tell me the truth, and perhaps I'll keep all this to myself."
"All right. We can prevent this plague from spreading. We can stop it from killing. And because he doesn't believe me, the a'laq does nothing."
U'Selle waited, expecting him to say more. When he didn't, she said, "Is that all?"
"Isn't that enough?"
She narrowed her eyes again. "No. I don't think it is."
He gazed back at her for several moments, as if testing his will against hers. At last he looked away, gave another small shake of his head, and laughed again. "Your people are fortunate to have such a wise leader, A'Laq." He took a breath. "You're right: That's not all. E'Menua is holding the two Mettai men as prisoners. These men killed the woman responsible for the plague, cured me, and created this spell to protect all Qirsi. And E'Menua intends to execute them as enemies of the Fal'Borna."
U'Selle shrugged. "We're at war with the Mettai."
The man's expression turned to stone. "And here I'd started to believe that you were different."
"I'm not saying E'Menua is justified, Forelander. But even if you've only lived among the Fal'Borna for a short time, you should understand that this is how my people think. The Mettai have declared themselves enemies of the Fal'Borna; therefore, these two men are enemies as well. It's our way."
"Well, in this case, your way is leading E'Menua down a dark and dangerous path."
She nodded. "Yes, I suppose it is."
He looked frustrated, discouraged.
"Well, A'Laq, I should leave you to sleep. I have more Weavers to contact before this night is over."
"I hope all your effort is rewarded, Grinsa of the Forelands. I can't say that I'm hoping to encounter this plague-I've heard too much about it, and I've seen what it does to those it leaves behind. But if we should be exposed to it, and if we survive the encounter, I'll be sure to thank E'Menua for his generous gift."
That made the man smile. "Thank you, A'Laq."
"Go," she said. "I'd like a few hours of peace before dawn."
He bowed to her. "May the gods smile on you and your people."
"They usually do," she said, and woke up.
Hynna was sick again, the pain in her stomach so sharp that she could do nothing more than lie on her side, her knees drawn up to her chest. She could hear her brothers and parents calling for her, and she wanted to answer them, to tell them that she was here, that she needed their help. But she had her teeth clenched against the illness in her gut; she couldn't bring herself even to open her mouth.
And then she saw the old woman. She was walking in Jynna's direction, her eyes fixed on the girl, a broad grin on her wizened face. She carried a basket in each hand, and within the baskets were smaller baskets, which in turn held even tinier baskets. The back of her left hand was bloody, and Jynna saw that the knife on her belt dripped blood as well.
"You aren't supposed to be alive," the woman said. "It was supposed to kill all of you."
She wanted to shout back at the woman to leave her alone. She wanted to tell the woman that this plague she had brought to her people wouldn't kill her.
But the woman began to cackle, as if she could read Jynna's thoughts. "You're right," she said.
And though the woman was still a few strides away, her voice seemed to come from just beside her. It seemed to Jynna that she could feel the woman's foul breath on her neck.
"You're right, child," she said again. "It won't kill you. But I will."
She pulled the knife free, and then pulled a second from behind her. This time Jynna did open her mouth to scream. If only her father or mother could hear her. If only her brothers could.
"They're dead," the woman said, laughing again.
But Jynna screamed anyway.
"Jynna!"
She felt a hand on her arm and struggled to get away.
"Jynna, wake up, love."
She opened her eyes, saw S'Doryn sitting on the edge of her bed looking down at her, his brow furrowed with concern.
Closing her eyes again, she took a long breath.
"It was the same dream."
"It sounded like it."
Jynna looked at him. "Why? What did I say?"
He looked away.
"Was I calling for Mama and Papa again?" she asked, her eyes stinging. S'Doryn nodded. "And your brothers, too."
She wiped a tear from her cheek and made herself smile. "Well, it was just a dream."
He tried to return her smile, but his forehead was still creased and there was concern in his golden yellow eyes. She sat up and looked around the small chamber.
"Where's Vettala?" she asked.
"She woke up some time ago. She and N'Tevva went to the marketplace. Not that they'll find much there, but Vettala wanted to go."
Vettala, like Jynna, had come to Lowna from Tivston, the Y'Qatt village where they had been raised. A few turns before, Tivston had been destroyed by the plague loosed upon the land by the old Mettai woman she'd seen in her nightmare. Nearly everyone in the village had died, including Jynna's parents and her older brothers, Delon and Blayne. There were a few other survivors of that horrible night who had come to Lowna with Jynna and Vettala. Etan and Hev, Pelda and Sebbi-all of them children.
For a long time, Vettala had been unwilling to speak to anyone or stray from Jynna's side. But S'Doryn and N'Tevva had welcomed Jynna and Vettala into their home and now were as close to a father and mother as the girls would ever have. And with time, Vettala had come to love and trust N'Tevva, just as Jynna loved and trusted S'Doryn.
"So they've gone to the market," Jynna said with false brightness. She threw off her blanket and swung herself out of bed. "What are we going to do?"
She'd had this dream enough times to know that the images she'd seen would be with her for most of the day. Her stomach still felt sour, and would for a few hours, until she was hungry enough to force down some food. But she knew as well that she'd be better off getting out of the house and doing something-anything-that would distract her.
"What do you want to do?" S'Doryn asked.
She gave him a sly look. "The last time we went fishing you caught one more than I did-"
He shook his head. "Two."
"That small one didn't count. That's why you threw it back. You caught one more than I did and I want a chance to beat you."
He grinned, and this time it appeared genuine. "All right. Fishing it is." He stood and crossed to the door. "Get dressed and I'll… I'll pack some food to take with us, in case you get hungry."
Jynna nodded. After he left the chamber she closed the door and pulled on her breeches and a shirt that N'Tevva had made for her. It was soft and heavy and very comfortable, particularly now that the Snows were nearly upon them. She pulled on a pair of hose and reached for her shoes. As she was putting them on her feet, she heard voices coming from the common room. N'Tevva and Vettala, no doubt.
But when she stepped out of the small room she shared with Vettala, she saw S'Dorvn speaking with U'Selle, Lowna's a'laq.
"Good morning, Jynna," the old woman said. Immediately she was taken with a fit of coughing.