Lord Brother

Stifling yet another yawn, Ryel peered out through the chal-haze toward Almancar, where now the tallest of the gilded towers—the spires of the Dranthene palace, where the Sovrena Diara doubtless lay still asleep, dreaming, he hoped, of him—began to glow from the light of the dawn. Gradually dawn shed its radiance over the great city, lighting the temples and the mansions, dawn warm and clear.

He glanced from the city to the wysardess at his side. "Was it you that sent Jinn to me, there on the Aqqar?"

Lady Srin, seemingly absorbed in her chal, shook her head as she drank.

"Then who?"

Ignoring Ryel’s impatience, Srin Yan Tai meditatively licked her lower lip as she gave a half-shrug. "Can’t tell you, lad."

"You mean you know, but won’t say?"

"Meaning I know, but don’t believe it. Still, if I’m not being shamefully misled, matters should do well, if all goes as it should. Not that it has to, of course." She, too, fixed her gaze on the great city below that lay now like a tumbled heap of jewels all agleam in the rising light. "I dreamed of war last night. War down there."

That explained her restlessness, her frequent muttered cries and starts as she slept, which had kept Ryel wakeful. He was irritable still.

"I’ve no wish to go North. Or anywhere else, for that matter."

Lady Srin’s black stare remained on the city, unblinking. "Ah. The reluctant hero."

"I’m no hero."

"So far I’m inclined to agree with you." She gulped down the last of her chal. "Well, enough of this idle banter. Time for you to be off to save the world, if you can."

Ryel gave an inward sigh. Part of it must have escaped, because Lady Srin turned to him, drawing his entire attention into her lightless eyes.

"Very well. Let’s forget about the World—and we may as well, since you know next to nothing about it. Think about those few people in the World you’re acquainted with, and care for. Dagar has other business to attend to at present, but I can assure you he hasn’t forgotten about those who are dear to you. At present, wherever you go, Dagar will follow, and therefore it’s most opportune that your course leads Northward, away from your mother and sister, and the Dranthene siblings."

"I don’t know where to start. How to begin."

"Oh, that doesn’t matter. I had a vision last night."

Ryel dealt her an exasperated glance. "I thought you were dreaming of war."

"I was. But things got better later on. You’ll have friends up North, lad. Friends who’ll open doors for you. It was revealed to me that a radiant spirit will guide you into Hallagh."

"Really."

Lady Srin growled a thunder-chuckle at Ryel’s nonexistent enthusiasm. "You’ll see. Well, let’s get started. I’m glad you haven’t eaten anything yet, because this spell is guaranteed to wring your guts."

They descended the tree, and crossed the little creek-moat to the meadow where Jinn stood with her head up and her mane stirred by the morning breeze, in exactly the attitude Ryel had left her the night before.

"I suppose you’ll want to take your nag with you," Lady Srin said.

In answer Ryel wrapped his arm around Jinn’s neck. At once she came to life, leaning against the wysard as if she wished his closeness, like any horse of World-kind. It gave Ryel new strength, but still he eyed Lady Srin warily.