The Truest Power

June was now upon them, and the summer months of dry weather meant the Barons would be on the move.

It was time they were moving as well—back to Ballinrigh. Both she and Renan felt a deep certainty that whatever was next on Selia's path to the throne could only be accomplished in the kingdom's capital city.

At least this time we know where we're going, Lysandra thought as she stood. Someone needed to point that out — again —to Selia . . . and Lysandra knew that this time it had to be her.

Renan, kind and solicitous, was a great one to offer comfort. With him, Lysandra did not hesitate to share her worries and fears. But comfort was no longer what Selia needed. She needed to put aside both sentiment and personal choices, and look ahead with a clear, determined eye. There was too much at stake for any of them to let personal preferences interfere with what had to be done. Selia had shown her strength in the Realm of the Cryf, when dealing with Aurya and Giraldus — it was time she did so again. Lysandra only hoped she could emulate the gentle firmness her own mother had so often used with her.

The memory of her mother came easily now. The long years in which her heart was dead and cold, buried beneath the crushing weight of her sorrow, were over. Grief was healed, as was the guilt that she had unwittingly carried for so long —guilt that she should still live while those she had loved died trying to save her.

The healing had come from many places, had worn many faces —three of whom were with her now. There was Cloud-Dancer, first and always. From the day he had come into her life, an abandoned six-week-old wolf pup with a broken leg, his joyous devotion and loyalty had begun to chip away the hard shell in which she had encased her inner self. Guard, companion, friend —he had been the first and only being she loved in a long, long time.

Then Renan came into her life —or she into his. Although, at first, she had hated the compulsion that drove her to leave this cottage, that led her first to Ballinrigh and then to Rathreagh to find Selia, she knew now it had been a gift from the Divine Hand. In Ballinrigh she had met Renan — Father Renan, priest of the little parish in which she had sought refuge only minutes after entering the city.

Viewed in hindsight, the events of that long trek to the kingdom's great capital, and of the even longer one that followed, were nothing short of miraculous. True, she had her Sight to guide her and Cloud-Dancer's presence to keep her safe. But she was still a blind woman walking alone, save for the wolf's company. There could have been danger behind every tree or around any bend in the road.

Instead, she had encountered only honesty and beauty as she traveled. When she did reach Ballinrigh and faced the one truly dangerous moment of her journey, the place of sanctuary at hand contained the one person she needed to find. If those two men had not tried to attack and rob her — gaining only the protective fury of a wolf for their troubles — she might have wandered the streets of Ballinrigh until, money gone, she was forced to abandon her search without ever finding Renan or discovering why she was there.

But she had found Renan. He alone, of all the city's inhabitants, had known what she did not —who she was and the purpose behind her presence there. He revealed to Lysandra the Thirteenth Scroll of Tambryn and explained to her what it meant.