– Relax, Tarke, said Sherath, running Awareness through her mind. She looked across and grinned at him.
– Is it that obvious?
– Fairly. Moonwind's being very cautious about how she moves – she's afraid of losing you. He patted Moondust's neck, and straightened out a twist of the unicorn's mane. Open your mind to mine; feel how I feel. Feel the movement of Moonwind's back; feel the sequence of her legs; feel the muscles shifting and the way she uses her balance; feel the rhythm – it's very predictable, she won't throw anything unexpected at you. Let yourself move with her; absorb her movement and relax.
– You're very expert all of a sudden, Sherath.
– Farinka's a good teacher. You must ride with her sometime; she has a beautiful feel for togetherness with Moondust. I could almost let her mind control my own movements – it's a quick way to learn.
– Probably. But if I let you control me I'm responding to you and him rather than to Moonwind.
– Good point. Ride with me? Just until you get the feel of it more? He looked across at her, the question echoed in his eyes.
– Yes. Tarke edged the filly closer to Moondust where Sherath had halted him, and slithered over to sit behind Sherath.
– As close as you can; it helps him to balance our weight. Shut your eyes, feel his movement; open your mind to mine. With me now?
– Yes. Tarke drifted into a sleepy Awareness, allowing her responses to take their cue from Sherath's consciousness, and feeling the flow of movement from the unicorn to herself and Sherath and back to the unicorn. I feel how he thinks, she said after a while. He's not using Voice, but I can feel his Awareness of me.
– Yes. He knows who you are.
– He has enormous strength, she remarked. The Power of his mind is immense. As young as today and as old as forever. How can he have learnt so much wisdom in so short a time?
– He's a unicorn, said Sherath, answering everything. Can you handle moving faster? There's a lot of ground to cover.
– With this kind of link I can manage anything you can. Your abilities become mine; you know that.
– Yes. I wondered if you did, though.
– If you let me, I can know anything that you know. The Power of your own mind is also quite impressive, Sherath. Not entirely -
– Don't say it, Tarke. Wiser left unsaid.
– Why? As Counsellor, I should be the one person you need have no secrets from. She felt his Awareness shifting, and, probing, knew there were parts of his thoughts that he was quite deliberately keeping closed to her. Can you not trust me, Sherath? She shifted the tone of her Awareness and let him feel the hurt of being shut out.
His eyes screwed up for a moment. – That's unethical, Tarke.
– It needed to be said. Trust me. You can, you know. I won't hurt you. She felt him smile, and let the wash of his affection flow over her.
– You're very wise, for a Child.
– It's in the breeding. My sire was a good Counsellor.
Sherath laughed. – This is very true. I'm going to ask him to canter; it's a very easy rhythm. Flow with it.
Moondust swung into an easy canter, the filly keeping pace half a length behind him.
– Talking of breeding, said Tarke, your own sire was also a good king.
– He was Nemeth's sire, too. A bit uncontrolled, said Sherath.
– We've discussed that one before, Sherath.
– Yes, I know. Okay, insensitive in his use of Control.
– Better. But he was younger then than you are now, you realise. You've had longer in which to learn Control. In many ways you – and all of us – are as Moondust is. Young and old both.
– Except for Farinka, said Sherath, his mind clouding. Tarke's probe of Awareness lanced through his mind behind the defences before he was able to stop her.
– Oh, Sherath. You are going to have to talk about this.
– How? There was something approaching anguish in his Voice.
– It's no betrayal. You must realise that you and Nemeth are probably more in need of a Counsellor than anyone else. And always will be. You can't try and carry all of us all the way – however great the temptation. So give; all of it.
– Tarke, you don't know what you're asking.
– You're full of confusion and fear and pain; and you're very tired. I can feel your feelings but I don't know what's causing them, Sherath. What are you most afraid of?
– Being another Shiannath. The answer came out almost as a whisper.
– How can you be?
– I told Dominn that I'd take on Shiannath's quest. Now I don't know whether I can.
– Because you know what it might involve?
– Because the temptation to give up on it is too strong. Because I'm afraid for Farinka.
– And of her, in some ways.
– You see a lot, don't you?
– That tangle with the boar frightened you, Sherath.
– I was so scared we were going to lose her. Not to the boar; but to her own Power. She has no idea of the amount of Power she tapped into there, you know. It was massive. Enormous – and very destructive. If that boar had been a bit stronger she would have destroyed her own mind in trying to destroy him. That scares me.
– It terrified Nemeth, too. It's not often he admits publicly to fear. Even when he's been mashed by something.
– He was also scared of losing you. We need you, too.
– Nice to know. Without Farinka there is no way to the hidden valley. And no way to take on Shiannath's quest?
– Yes. I think so. But that's not all of it, Tarke.
Tarke tightened her arms around him. – You need to say it, Sherath. You have to. For yourself.
– Okay. We need her. The Elves need her. The unicorns need her – or they'll be lost one day, too. Our world needs her – alive and in Power. I'm convinced that Shiannath's quest needs her. I think Dominn sent her here because I said I'd take that on. I think that's why she's here now. It's just too much of a coincidence to be anything else – and where Dominn's concerned I don't believe in coincidence.
– Nor me.
– But she's so young, Tarke. Seventeen years old; from another world. She doesn't know our world, she's had not enough time to grow, to learn, to stabilise in any way. And because of all that happened to her on her own world, she's dangerous. A lot of her Power is fuelled by anger; and by fear. And not much by love – though it was to protect Nemeth that she used the Power to kill. She's enabled but not really mature – you realise on our world she wouldn't have been allowed to Journey until she was twice the age she is? She's not really adult – I'm more adult than she is. I'm a non-enabled adult; she's a viable, enabled Child. It's an explosive mixture – the unleashed anger and fear of a hurt Child combined with the full Power of an enabled adult. And somehow I've got to get her through everything, just to do what I've promised to do. And the needs of the Elves, of the unicorns, of the world, of the quest – all those greater needs have to take priority over my needs. And in meeting those needs, I might lose her. To the quest; to some greater plan; to death ....
– Or to Nemeth? said Tarke. She felt Sherath's mind flinch, and held him tighter for a second.
– Yes. And I need her. Me, Sherath, myself. For myself. I don't want to lose her to anyone or anything else's need. That's why I'm so tempted to back out of that quest. And morally – ethically – I can't do it.
– Sherath, you're afraid because you've already made that decision. You're already committed to the quest. If you weren't, you wouldn't be afraid – there'd be nothing to be afraid of, for yourself. You'll do what Dominn needs, no matter what it costs you personally.
– Yes; until I get tested too far. But when I have to protect her, I keep asking myself whether I'm doing it for Dominn, and for everything else – or just for myself.
– You question your motives?
– Yes. I keep wondering whether I'm doing the right thing for the wrong reason.
– There's no rule that says the reasons are mutually exclusive. Why can't you accept that you can do the right thing for both reasons? It doesn't have to be either/or. It can be both.
– It would be so easy to snap, though. If there ever came a time when the needs pulled in different ways. My own need is very strong – and probably not something you can understand.
– Don't count on it, said Tarke. In all except genetic viability and full Power Assumption you are predominantly adult.
– You know too much.
– I know enough.
– How much do you know?
– Like I said: enough. I know about Shiyeth's leaf.
– Oh ye gods, Tarke! How long have you known? And how?
– I did say you could trust me, little one. I've suspected for ages. Since the sickness. As for how I know ... my sire was a good Counsellor, Sherath. And I could always read Teketh like a book; and whatever he suspected, I was aware of.
– You get that from your dam. Kayisha was the most perceptive person I've ever known – frighteningly so. I was always in more danger from her than from Teketh. You're very like her – your breeding shows; on both sides. Did he know?
– If he did, he never admitted it. Probably not even to himself. He knew you, though. He knew to what lengths you would go to protect Shiyeth, if necessary. And you were always so clever at guarding against Teketh, and Lukann, and everyone – as was Shiyeth. But neither of you ever thought it was necessary to guard against me, did you?
– I should have known. You learnt from Shiyeth?
– No. From you. After the sickness. Losing Shiyeth knocked your defences; and you almost went, too. I thought I'd lose you – you were desperately ill.
– You kept me alive.
– Yes. I had to go into the darkness after you and call you back. You didn't want to live, Sherath.
– How far had I gone?
– Far enough that you'd have taken me with you if you'd died. I couldn't pull away. The hold of your mind was too strong. It was that that made me start looking further. But it's taken until now for me to be absolutely sure of the extent of that leaf's effect.
– Why until now?
– I've known you can Assume Power for longer than you've known; I was watching you start to Assume Power over two hundred years ago – gradually. This past year it's come a lot faster and a lot stronger. But it's only in this past week that I've been able to see how you react to Farinka.
Sherath laughed. – Yes. I react.
– And your reaction is different from Nemeth's. For only that reason. The reaction itself produces half your confusion, you know. It undermines your rationality.
– I don't entirely like feeling irrational.
Tarke laughed. – Not without some kind of safety valve, anyway.
He grinned. – Tarke, shut up.
– Your problem is you want to but you can't.
The grin turned into a laugh. – Enough, Tarke. Pax. Your capacity as Counsellor doesn't give you the right to make that kind of observation. However perceptive.
– But as your friend, I have that right. Yes?
– Yes, okay. You know the extent of the affection.
– Likewise, Sherath. Don't forget that.
– I know. I won't. Let's let these beasts rest and graze here. You'll be okay riding on your own afterwards.
– Are you chickening out?
– Who, me?
***
Nemeth halted at the eastern side of the alp, one hand on Agouti's muzzle to stop him. He shifted his weight onto his good leg, resting the other one. It ached.
Behind him the other packbeasts and the Children came to a halt, spreading out along the edge of the trees.
– All clear? asked Louka.
– Safe enough, said Nemeth. "Okay, let's unpack and set tents up, peoples. This is far enough for today."
He led Agouti out onto the alp, shrugged his shoulders out of the packstraps and lowered the tentpoles to the ground. Jevann came over to him, dropping his own pack of tentpoles by the others and rubbing his shoulders.
"Want a hand unloading Agouti?"
"Please. We can lift that pack in one move between us."
Nemeth bent to untie the cinches; Agouti lowered his head and began pulling at the grass.
"Ready?" Nemeth glanced up at Jevann.
"When you are. Okay."
They lifted the pack by the lower ends of the crossed poles, and Nemeth prodded Agouti with one foot to make him walk away from under it. Louka caught hold of the beast's halter and inspected his back for sore patches.
"He's fine," she said. "No problems. If you and Jevann can do the honours, we'll unload the others like that as well. It's much quicker. I think you ought to rest a bit when that's done; and Farinka. The rest of us can put up the tents without you – there are enough pairs of hands to manage quite easily. Don't argue, Nemeth."
"I wasn't about to." He grinned. "You might find Farinka less easy to convince."
"I'll manage," Louka said with a wink.
Farinka led Flax over, with Sunshine following close behind.
"This didn't take as long as I thought it would," she said, helping Louka untie cinches.
"We can keep up a good pace, even with little ones," said Jevann. "It's the pace of the beasts that restricts us."
"True," said Nemeth, taking hold of his side of the pack. "Ready? Lift. Mind you, I'm glad we've got them. It's nice to have reserve stores."
"How much weight is in their packs?" asked Farinka.
"Flax's is the heaviest because he's carrying the tent hides, and he has them because he's by far the strongest of the beasts. About a hundred and forty kilos," said Jevann. "The others are carrying about ninety kilos each; but as soon as we can catch some more beasts we can reduce that by quite a lot. Extra packs will be quite easy to rig up."
"Coming fishing, Domina?" asked Nemeth. "I'll teach you how to tickle trout."
"Yes, okay. If I'm not needed here, that is."
"Neither of us is needed here. The little ones are gathering mushrooms, nuts, greens and berries; Sienne will get the fire ready, and the rest of the team will do the tents. By the time we get back, there'll be a home to get back to. Shall we ride over?"
"Yes. If you can stay on, that is."
Nemeth laughed. "Try me."
Farinka grinned at him, and vaulted onto Sunshine's back, neck-reining him with the lead rein. Sunshine put in a half-hearted buck, and she was conscious of Nemeth's Awareness drifting through her mind as he assessed the buck and how to sit on it. He grinned again, and jumped, Indian-fashion, onto Flax. "Race you?"
"You're on." She swung Sunshine round, leant low over his neck and nudged him into a gallop, her fingers twisted into his white mane, feeling Nemeth's Awareness twining in her thoughts all the way, leaching knowledge from her and using it himself. Agouti bolted past them with a buck and a squeal, flinging his heels up. Sunshine's stride lengthened out even more, hardly feeling Farinka's weight; Flax, despite Nemeth's urging, dropped behind.
Farinka slowed Sunshine by circling him at the other side of the alp. "What kept you?" she asked as Nemeth brought Flax close.
"Unfair, Domina. I weigh nearly twice what you do, remember."
"And Flax is stronger than Sunshine."
"Possibly," agreed Nemeth, sliding off and putting his arms round Flax's neck, rubbing the beast's ears and praising him. "But he's not got the right build for real speed."
"He's a good beast," said Farinka, dismounting and making much of the palomino.
"They all are." Nemeth whispered endearments into Flax's ears, flooding the beast with affection, and fed him a honeycake, then turned him loose. He brought a second honeycake over and shared it between the other two beasts, then patted them and sent them off onto the alp. He put an arm over Farinka's shoulders and steered her in the direction of the stream.
"So how do you tickle trout?" she asked.
"You find where they're lying up. This is a good time of day. Use your Awareness to find them – they'll usually be close to the sides, in amongst tree roots or under rocky overhangs, always facing upstream. Keep your Awareness open and look out for other beasties, too; getting your fingers nipped by a crayfish is unpleasant, and getting them gashed by a lurking pike can leave you with severed tendons – or even without fingers if you're very unlucky. Be careful." – And keep quiet – you'd be surprised how much they can hear, he added. We'll go upstream a bit, there's a good rocky place up there.
He padded along the trail making little more noise than a cat, keeping a thin screen of undergrowth between himself and the stream. Farinka followed in his tracks, still somewhat surprised that something so big could move so quietly.
– I'm an Elf, said Nemeth with a grin, not a human.
– Who gave you permission to listen to what I'm thinking?
– Your thoughts were wide open; you can deny me any time, Domina. Here we are. Come to the edge quietly. Try and pretend that you're a shrub, he said, smiling.
– Yeah, sure. Spot the leaves.
Nemeth turned his head, his eyes alight with silent laughter. – Believe me, it works. He crouched by the stream. Use the Awareness, Domina. There are two under here. I'll take the front one – we'll have to do this both at once if we're going to get both of them. Think shrub, Domina. Your fingers are the roots, trailing in the water. Trail them along gently, slowly, moving upstream, moving from the tail towards the head. Let your fingers reach forwards and then just touch her flank, moving backwards. Easy, eh? She doesn't know you're there. Again, and this time, on the count of three, close your fingers behind her gills and flip her out of the water. Ready?... one, two, three. Don't drop her!
Well done, Domina. Your first trout.
He turned and knocked both trouts' heads against the rock, then grinned up at her. "Piece of cake. We'll gut them here," he said, slitting one fish open deftly with one flick of his belt knife and hooking the insides out with the ball of his thumb, letting them fall into the water. "With any luck, that could well attract more trout. Cannibalistic little devils. If it's protein, they'll eat it – even if it's their brother's entrails." He gutted the second fish, casting his Awareness out along the stream like a net. – Here they come. Another three. And a pike – keep your fingers out, Domina. Let me take that swine.
– Careful, Nemeth.
– I'm always careful, he answered, making a quick grab and hauling the pike out by its tail, flinging it away onto the other side of the rock. It flipped about, its eyes glinting evilly. Nemeth threw his belt knife, skewering it behind the eyes. I'll come back to that in a few minutes – they can still nip even when you think they're dead, he said. Try for another trout or two – on your own. They'll be too busy fighting over the entrails to notice what you're doing.
– You have such faith in me, Nemeth.
He laughed. – I have, actually; since you mention it. Though I admit you're not quite the all-Powerful 'Child of Justice' that we were expecting. You have sufficient Power; don't get me wrong; possibly too much Power for your own good. Don't kill yourself – at least not until you've got us to the hidden valley.
– Thanks a lot, Nemeth. It's so nice to feel wanted. Have another trout.
– Thanks. Seriously, Domina. She turned and found him looking at her, his amber-hazel eyes worried. I might joke about it – but I'd miss you. Me, personally; Nemeth the Elf, not just Nemeth the son of Shith and the Challenger for my people. His eyes held hers for a long moment. It's very good to find a new friend – and very bad to lose one. Besides, and he grinned, you haven't told the little ones all the Winnie-the-Pooh stories yet.
She laughed. – Lots more where those came from. I'll start them on the poems next. And then Beatrix Potter, and Roald Dahl (I'm sure his Matilda must have been an Elf)...
– Whoa! Stop, cease, desist; enough – I rest my case. We need you. Stop making light of me, Domina; I meant it.
– You make me wish I'd had a brother. I could have done with one like you.
– Thank you.
– Any time. How many trout do we need?
– Eight or nine would be good. That pike will make up for any shortage in numbers – lots of meat on a pike. Lots of bones, though, too.
– Do you want a crayfish?
– Is there one there?
– There's something over the other side. Doesn't feel fishy.
– You're right. I'll see if I can get him – I'll cross over farther up and come back down to him – don't want to scare your trout away. You could start wandering back downstream with these and see if you can flush any more out. I'll meet you back down by the granite lump.
– I'd rather we stayed reasonably together, Nemeth. That cougar hangs about not far from that granite.
– Good point. Keep your eyes and ears open, Domina. I'll be back in a moment.
Three more trout had joined the pile on the rock before Farinka felt Nemeth's mind-touch from the opposite bank.
– Keep clear, Domina; he might make a bolt for your side of the water.
– Okay; whatever you say. She drew her fingers out of the water, looking across towards the other bank. It was a moment before she could see Nemeth; his impression of a bush was very convincing. Vaguely reminiscent of an old TV advertisement which she remembered seeing on YouTube, but the outline was there, and apparent when he moved. She stifled a mental smile, and was aware of his reaction.
– Why the amusement?
– You just reminded me of something.
– What?
– People pretending to be bushes.
– Fair enough. Nemeth looked over at her, his eyes meeting hers in shared laughter. Tell me about it sometime.
– Shall do. What is it about you and Shiffih that makes you different from the others, Nemeth?
– It's the breeding. Our mother was a Southern Elf – not the Northern stock. Southern Elves are just a bit different – as are Southern Men and Dwarves.
– You remind me of the Native Americans on that other world. Or possibly parts of Northern Africa or the Middle East. Not totally, but somewhat.
– Do you know, that's the first time you've called it anything other than 'my world'?
– I didn't realise. But it's beginning to feel almost unreal – like a bad dream.
– Was it all bad? There was sympathy as well as question in his Voice.
– Not all. But I lost almost everything that was good. I don't really feel as though I knew anyone there at all. As if they weren't quite real people.
– No Awareness. No Voice, no Hearing. It explains a lot. It must be impossible really to know anyone without those things – though Men seem to manage somehow.
– You've been talking to Sherath.
– Yes. We're very close, my brother and I. Though there's a lot he keeps hidden from me. Ow!
– What?
– Got my fingers nipped. Have a crayfish. He threw it over the stream to her. Don't panic, I've killed it already.
– Thanks. Do you think we've got enough?
Nemeth jumped over the stream, landing catlike on the rock close to her.
– It'll have to do. I don't feel like catching any more.
– How about some watercress?
– We can hook that out farther down, on our way back.
He wrapped the gutted fish in a soft hide and tied the bundle across the back of his shoulders. "Fit?"
"When you are. What was your mother's name?"
"Nehhuare. Youngest daughter of Nuare and Shamin-Ra."
"Shamin-Ra?"
"Leader of the Southern Elves. Sort of a prince, but not as high-rank as Shithri. They have their own line Rihal."
"So you're royalty on both sides, then."
"Yes. Not that it makes any difference. I am what I am. I am Nemeth. And right now, I'm hungry." He grinned. "Let's get back. Sherath's dam was quite high ranking, as well. From the high Northern line – which explains his colouring, too. The high Northern Elves are usually fair-haired; predominantly Flax-coloured, though some are more like Sunshine. We both take after our mothers in colouring, though Sherath's skin is darker that Rekkye's was. Some of the high Northern Elves burn in strong sunlight; Sherath just tans. But he never gets as dark as I do."
"What was Shith like?"
"Shith? He had the same skin as Sherath, and mid-brown hair. Not as red as yours, though yours isn't like Jevann's."
"Whose is?"
Nemeth laughed. "Good question. Jekavi's almost is. He's still a lot redder than you, though. More chestnut than you; the red in your hair is darker."
"My mother told me my hair was almost white when I was born."
"Really?" He looked appraisingly at her. "What colour was you mother's hair?"
"Light brown, slightly reddish."
"And your father?"
"Almost black. Very like yours, actually. But his mother was auburn – Granny Law – before she went grey. She died when I was quite young."
"Have you got any family left at all?"
"Not any more. The last of my family were Uncle Paul and Cousin Bobby, and they died when the dragons took me."
"What were your family? Who were they?"
"Nobody important – although Uncle Paul was very rich. My father was an architect – designed buildings. That's why we didn't own the house we lived in – he always said he wanted to design and build his own house one day, and until he could we just rented."
"Rented?"
"Paid for the use of someone else's house."
"Oh. I see. But he never got round to it?"
"No. He died before it happened. My mother just looked after both of us. She'd been a singer – that's how Daddy met her. Music was one of his hobbies. He heard her in a concert and went backstage to meet her afterwards. They were married three months later."
"Nice. But they never knew each other before that?"
"No."
"So if all your family are dead, and your Uncle Paul was rich, if you were still on your own world, you would be pretty rich yourself."
"I suppose so. Yes. But I'd rather be here, with nothing."
"You haven't got nothing – you've got us."
"Quite."
"Nice one, Domina. Thank you."
"Any time. I meant it."
"I know." He gave her a brief one-armed hug. "Let's collect that watercress and be off. Where are those beasts?"
"Over there." Farinka pointed across the alp to where the beasts were grazing about fifty yards away. "Do you think you could call them?"
"I'll get them while you get the cress."
"It's a deal."
----
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