The Jack of Souls (Multi-award winner!)

Chaper 21b - A Secret and an Oath

Willard arrived in a tempest of pounding hooves. "Gods leave us, you're safe," he said. His face was a mottle of ash and fever spots. When he saw Holly's hood, and Caris's distant focus, he choked on anger. "Get away from her!"

Caris startled.

Willard rode to Holly and leaned down with obvious pain to fit the torn hood across her face. "Didn't I tell you to leave her be? What were you doing with her?"

Caris's mouth moved mutely as she struggled to access the world of language. "Rag — " she managed. Roaring began in her ears, and she raised her hands to shut it out.

Willard shoved her shoulder with his boot, and she let some of her connection to Rag slip away, to keep herself from collapsing with the strain of both worlds. She staggered against Willard's stirrup and stared up as he searched her face.

"Do not fraternize with her," he panted, eyes glassy and wild. "Do you understand me?"

Caris followed Willard's gaze to Holly, as he affixed her lead to Molly's saddle. "Holly..." she said, looking quizzically up in his face. "She's Molly's."

"Moons blast your woman's tongue! Never repeat that. Do you hear? Have you any idea what you've said? Do you know what would happen if it were known?"

Caris blinked, uncertain.

"Tell me you understand, girl. Never repeat that. You understand?"

"I...yes. I won't tell Harric."

"You won't tell anyone. Not Brolli. Not your white witch friend. Not ever. This is a more dangerous secret than that wedding ring, girl. No one else knows it but you."

Caris stared at the filly, her attentions divided perilously between worlds. She released more hold on Rag, and pointed at Holly. "But, she's a — "

" — Phyros. Yes," he hissed, barely a whisper. "Moons take your horse-touched eyes. And no, a Phyros has never given birth in Arkendia. No one knew they could breed outside the Sacred Isle till this...accident." [SM1] 

Her eyes widened. She turned to Willard, with questions, but he practically snarled in anticipation: "It's none of your business what I plan to do with her." He studied her face. After several heartbeats, he said, "Tell me you understand, girl. Are you here, or are you in your horse there?"

"I understand. The Brotherhood. They'd try to start herds in the West."

"Yes."

"But, she's different than Molly. Her eyes ..."

"She hasn't been blooded yet, or any fool could see it in her. Molly will blood her in time, gods leave us."

He closed his eyes and swayed forward in his saddle. "Mount your horse and draw up beside me."

She complied quickly, worried for his fever, and wanting to be near if he should fall from his saddle. When she stopped Rag beside Molly, however, it took almost all her concentration to keep Rag calm. Vaguely, she sensed Willard removing a gauntlet. Then his hand was thrust before her face, red blood welling from a slice across its back. She looked up in surprise.

His eyes were glassy and intense. "Kiss the blood and swear you'll never reveal this. Swear on your apprenticeship."

She kissed the blood. "I swear," she murmured, and he smeared the blood across her lips as if sealing a letter with wax.

He nodded, then spurred Molly back up the slope the way he'd come.

Holly followed on spindly filly's legs, casting curious glances back at Caris.