Sick with anxiety and the lingering effects of the vision she had seen, Sarka made it only halfway down the winding tower stair before she was overcome. She fell to her knees on the stone steps and vomited off the edge of the tower.
The breeze, offensive in its innocence, its normalcy, ruffled Sarka's rampant curls. She stared down at the ground far below her and let the gentle air cool her sweat-dampened cheeks. At last, feeling a little more in control of herself, she wiped the bile from her lips with her sleeve and pulled herself to her feet.
Terror swept over her then; she had forgotten Konn's stupid books. She would have to go back to the top of the tower to fetch them, and that was the last thing she wanted to do. She turned to look back up the stairway-and there were the books, lying in disarray on the stone steps.
She must have grabbed them when fleeing the Hall of Wisdom, even in her panic. She picked them up and descended the stairway, staying close to the tower wall. With all of her will, she put the vision Lady Warien had shown her from her mind and focused only on her own footsteps.
When she arrived back at the Temple of Atai, Ro was the first one she saw. He was sitting on the ground outside with his back against the wall, apparently napping. He opened his eyes as her shadow fell across his face and cast her a slitted glance.
"I met our headless host," he said. "I like him. He makes me feel better about my hand." When Sarka did not respond, Ro frowned. "You look terrible."
Sarka grasped for a spiteful riposte and came up short. This must have troubled Ro more than her looks, because he got to his feet and approached her, concern clear on his face. "Sarka?"
"These are Konn's," she said in a thread of a voice, holding out the books. Ro took them. "I need..."
"Come inside," said Ro in a voice devoid of wit. He took her by the elbow. "You need to sit down."
Moments later, Sarka sat in one of the plain wooden chairs in the temple, staring down at her hands. She heard Ro's footsteps going away and two pairs of footsteps coming back, accompanied by lowered voices.
"Sarka?" This was Konn. "My child, did you see Lady Warien?"
Anger. That was something to hold onto. Sarka looked up at Konn. "Yes, I did-and I'd have been better off not listening to you!"
Konn's mild expression did not change. "What did she say to you?"
"Nothing of use. She showed me parlor tricks-that's all."
Ro and Konn exchanged glances. The two men chose chairs close to Sarka. Ro said, "Come on, then-tell us."
Sarka shivered. She did not know how to tell them, and she knew it would be useless. There was nothing to be gleaned from the vision, was there? Only the threat of Kogoren, and that was real enough already. But there had been something at the end of the vision. That flash of silver and that cloud of red...red, like blood...
"Sarka."
She looked up, startled, to see Atai at the front of the room. He had not been there before. He approached, his kind features soft with concern. She was so tired of everyone's concern. They were all so concerned, but none of them could help her. None of them could do anything useful.
"Tell us what you saw." Atai sat down nearest Sarka, placed his head on his lap, and waited.
Sarka had little choice; they would get the story out of her one way or another. And what she'd said before-that the vision had told her nothing of use-had been wrong, hadn't it? "She showed me how my life will end."
Ro laughed, incredulous. "Don't be ridiculous, Sarka."
"Everything I have done, every choice I have made, has led me toward Kogoren. One day, I will face her, and I will die."
"Not with us to help you," said Konn. "Sarka, there is still hope."
Sarka looked at Konn. Somehow, arriving at the conclusion-that the end of her journey would be the end of her life-had given her a measure of peace. "I'm not saying there isn't hope," she replied. "I'm saying simply that I've seen the end. I will die. That does not mean I can't take Kogoren down with me."
Everyone fell silent. Sarka drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling the anxiety and the fear flee her body with the breath. At least now there was nothing more to be afraid of. What could there be to fear, other than death? Her soul would not be welcome in the world of the dead. It would pass into the realm beyond realms, and she would be no more. No more suffering. No more pain.
"Sarka."
She looked over to meet Atai's calm gaze. "Yes, my lord?"
"Tell us more of what you saw. There must be some wisdom to be gleaned from it."
"I saw Kogoren. She was standing in a dusty wasteland...a place that looked much like home. It was dark. She was holding a book. I think it was her God-Song."
Atai raised his brows, waiting. Sarka glanced at the others and saw that they, too, were hanging on her words.
"That's all. There were footsteps leading forward. I think they were mine. And then everything went red, bloody red, and the vision was ended. That's how I know that I died."
"Did you see anything else? Any other people?"
Sarka shook her head.
Looking thoughtful, Atai said, "This must mean some kind of confrontation between you and Kogoren, but it does not necessarily mean you must take her on alone. The wastelands could be your homeland, Sarka, but they might also be-"
Atai stopped in the middle of his sentence, a strange look passing over his face. He turned in his seat, angling his head so that his face was toward the door.
"What is it, my lord?" asked Konn.
"A visitor," said Atai. He grasped his head by the hair and rose to his feet. "You may enter, God of the Crescent, and be welcome."