It was daylight, that she could tell by the quality of light playing across her closed lids. Daylight, and she had slept for some hours, because her body felt restored and relaxed. Soft bed under her, Donnal’s warm body beside her—what could be so terrible that she had to work to try to forget it?
She moved, and the shape next to her adjusted. Heat streamed in steady waves from Donnal’s side of the bed. He must have taken the form of a bear or something equally large and full of energy. What Melly would think when she saw a bear in Kirra’s bed—
But if Melly were likely to see them, Donnal would never be so careless as to—
But Donnal—
But Donnal was gone because Kirra had fallen in love with Romar Brendyn. And last night Kirra had disenchanted Romar, laying her own hands on his head to—
Her whole body spasmed with pain and she sat up, gulping for air, her hands at her throat as if to pry off someone’s choking fingers. The shape next to her stirred and sat up. Not Donnal, of course. Senneth, her pale hair in disarray, her kind face creased with worry, her whole body radiating that generous and comforting heat.
How had either of them gotten to this room? All Kirra remembered was rain and mud and darkness. And tears so bitter they had probably permanently salted the ground where they had fallen.
“What happened?” Kirra said faintly. She moved her hands to investigate her face, her hair. Her eyes were sticky from last night’s weeping. There were twigs in her matted curls.
Senneth watched her closely, gray eyes giving nothing away. “What part don’t you remember?” she asked cautiously.
“I remember leaving the ballroom and wandering out in the storm,” Kirra said. “But I don’t know how I got from outside into this room. With you.”
“Cammon knew something was wrong. He took Tayse out in the storm to find you. Tayse carried you inside and Cammon came to get me. You were crying.”
Kirra made a small, helpless gesture at that.
Of course I was crying.
“I feel—I don’t feel as terrible as I think I should. How could I even fall asleep after that? Senneth, I—oh, I can’t even talk about it—”
“You broke it off with Romar.”
“Worse than that. I—I made him forget me.”
Senneth looked at her, eyebrows raised. “Forget
you
? Serramarra Kirra Danalustrous?”
“Forget his love for me,” Kirra said, her voice very subdued. “Forget the emotions I inspired. He’ll recognize my face, maybe even remember a conversation or two, but not how he felt about me. Not—some of the things we shared. I went into his head. I found his love for me and cured it like a disease.”
Now Senneth’s face showed deep compassion, but all she said was, “That would explain the despair.”
Kirra shook her head. “So how could I—I can’t believe I could even stop crying.”
“Well,” Senneth said. “You’re not the only one who’s a mystic.”
She watched, waiting for Kirra to figure it out. Kirra stared back at her, trying to reconstruct the rest of the night. Vaguely she remembered hands and voices in the dark. Vaguely she recalled the ease with which Tayse had lifted her off the ground, remembered sobbing into his wet shirt. She had been so cold, so wet, so miserable, so certain that no comfort could exist in the entire world.
And then Senneth’s hand on her arm, the heat from Senneth’s body chasing away the chill and some of the sense of loneliness. But Senneth did not have the power to soothe the frantic mind, discipline uncontrollable emotions. There had been another hand clasping hers, another voice whispering hope and reassurance.
“Cammon,” Kirra said flatly.
Senneth nodded.
Kirra felt a prickle of unease or wonder dance down her spine. “What did he
do
?”
“He said he—made it bearable. He said he gave you peace.”
Kirra stared at Senneth a little fearfully. “He can do that?”
A small smile from Senneth. “Apparently so. I’m beginning to think there’s not a lot our Cammon can’t do.”
Kirra passed a hand over her eyes. The longer she sat here in bed, the more she became aware of aches and stresses on her body. Not good for anyone to lie in the rain weeping, even if the period of duress was short. She must look as bad as she felt, hair wild and skin wan and bruised. “I have to leave,” she said.
“Leave the room? I can go if you want to be alone.”
“Leave Ghosenhall. I have to go home. I have to go now.”
Senneth was silent for a moment. “I wish I knew what to say to make everything better. I can’t come up with any words. I’m so sorry. I will do whatever you want. I’ll come with you to Danalustrous if you like.”
Kirra dropped her hand, moved to a tiny smile. “No. You should stay in Ghosenhall and spend time with your much more accessible lover, whom you scarcely got a chance to see the whole time we were on the road.”
Senneth smiled back. “Tayse would come with us, of course. He does not permit us to be separated.”
“Ah, now
that
is the sort of thing I need to hear to heal my heart,” Kirra said. “That makes me believe love is possible. For some people. Some of the time.”
“I think we should come with you.”
Kirra shook her head. “No. I want—I can’t tell you how much I need to be by myself. I’ll take hawk shape and fly home. I won’t even bring Melly with me. It will make her angry to be left behind, but I cannot deal with her concern. I need to be—I need to remember the secrets and magics that make me familiar to myself.”
“And what will you do in Danalustrous?”
Kirra rearranged a pillow behind her back and leaned against the headboard. “There’s a place. A small island off the coast,” she said slowly. “It’s become a sort of isolated colony for people with red-horse fever. They go there to die and to make sure they infect no one else. My aunt and my—my uncle told me about it a couple of months ago. I think I’ll go there. I think I’ll take what I learned from Lyrie Rappengrass and heal as many of those people as I can.”
“You realize that word will spread quickly that you have mastered the art of changing someone other than yourself.”
“You think I shouldn’t go?”
“No, I think you should. How can you not bestow the gift of life when you hold it in your hands? And maybe you will heal yourself as you heal those others.”
“Maybe. It seems too much to hope for.”
“We’ll come with you, if you like,” Senneth said again.
Kirra actually laughed. “No! This is a shiftling’s journey. But I thank you for the offer.”
“Will you at least stay another day so I can be sure you’re all right?”
Kirra shook her head. “No. I’ll eat something, and then I’ll go.” She gave Senneth a direct look. “So let me say good-bye now.”
“You can’t go without seeing the others.”
Kirra sighed. “I know. I promised Cammon I’d find him before I left.”
“And Justin.”
Kirra sighed with more theatricality. “
And
Justin. But you can take my farewell to Tayse, can’t you?”
“I can.” Senneth leaned over and gave her a warm hug. “Good-bye. May the Bright Lady light your journey. May the Wild Mother guard your back. And may whatever god watches over Cammon heal your spirit.”
Kirra laughed and held on tightly, just for a moment, just to soak up some of Senneth’s incredible heat. It seemed to suffuse her whole body with light and gladness, snuggling with a little sigh around her battered heart. “You know I’ll be back in Ghosenhall before the year is over,” Kirra whispered.
Senneth pulled away. She was smiling. “Then I shall not be so sad to see you leave, for I will see you again very soon.”
WITHIN an hour, Kirra was ready to go. She’d taken a quick bath, devoured a hasty meal, and explained to Melly that she was going on to Danalustrous alone.
“I’ll have my father send guards to Ghosenhall to escort you home,” Kirra said. “I would not make you travel by yourself.”
Melly was concerned, but not for herself. “There are two Danalustrous men in Ghosenhall right now. Came in last night bringing a message for the king,” Melly said. “I thought you and I might travel back with them. I think that’s the better plan, serra. I don’t think you should leave like this—no one knowing where you are or if something is wrong—”
“Melly.” Kirra laughed. “That is how I always travel. I am always alone, and no one worries.”
“Everyone worries,” Melly shot back. “You just don’t care.”
Kirra laughed again and gave the maid a quick hug. “I’ll tell my sister to double your salary and to make sure you never leave her service,” Kirra said. “You’re a treasure.”
The last thing to do was keep her final promise and make her good-byes to Justin and Cammon. Neither of them were in the barracks, or the training yard, or anywhere she might reasonably expect to find them. She found herself scowling, wondering if Senneth had told them to hide in the city so that Kirra could not find them and, thus, could not depart. But then she had the inspired thought of looking for Cammon in the gated garden where the queen kept her raelynx. It took her another thirty minutes to quarter the back half of the king’s property—which boasted any number of gardens and private woods—but she finally found the walled, overgrown acres that had become home to the red cat.
Luck was with her. Both Cammon and Justin were sitting on the ground outside the gate, half asleep in the warm noon sun. The raelynx rested on the other side of the grille, its pointed nose on its paws, its tufted tail twitching with remembered wildness.
All three of them woke when she was twenty yards away. The men came to their feet, but the raelynx merely yawned and returned to its nap.
“Finally. I found you. Now I’m saying good-bye,” Kirra said when she was near enough. “See you again soon enough, I’m sure.”
She made as if to spin and walk away, but Justin caught her arm and Cammon was calling, “Wait, wait, wait!”
She laughed and turned back. “Only joking,” she said. “That wasn’t a real farewell.”
Justin dropped her arm, but Cammon came closer, peering at her with his strange, flecked eyes. “Are you better this morning?” he asked quietly. “Last night you—” He shook his head.
“Yes. Better. But not—” She searched for a word. “Well.” It was insufficient but she couldn’t think of how to phrase it. “I need to go. Thank you for—thank you both. For caring. That almost makes it possible to bear everything.”
“You’re going back to Danalustrous?” Cammon asked.
She nodded. “Now. This minute.”
“We’ll come with you,” Justin said. “Give us an hour to pack.”
Really, it was enough to make you think you were too frail to cross half a continent on your own. “No,” she said. “But thank you. I’m used to traveling by myself.”
Justin was stubborn. “You’re used to having Donnal with you.”
Well, that was an unnecessary stab to the heart. She talked around the sudden sharp pain. “This time I don’t. I’ll have to get used to traveling without him. I’ve managed just fine since we parted on the road to Rappengrass.”
Cammon’s eyes widened. “Donnal didn’t leave you on the road to Rappengrass,” he said.
Kirra and Justin both looked at him.
“He didn’t! Well, he
did
, for a day, but he joined the caravan before we made Rappen Manor. He was there the whole time.”
Kirra felt as if the muscles of her face had grown too slack to hold her jaw in place. “He was—Donnal’s been with us—”
Cammon nodded vigorously. “Hawk shape, most of the time. Owl, eagle. Wolf once in a while, but mostly birds.”
“In Rappengrass?” she said faintly.
He nodded again. “And on the whole trip back to Ghosenhall. I haven’t seen him today, but I know he’s still here. He wouldn’t leave you. I don’t think he can.”