Barb Hendee - Through Stone and Sea

The place references were baffling, but she copied everything word for word, even the dots indicating missing or untranslated parts. Some of it was clear. "Tree-born" had to mean the elves, likely ancestors of the Lhoin'na and the an'Cróan. "Tainted-blood" might be humans, and among the dead the few who "filled our ranks" meant only one thing.

Vespana and Ga'hetman had raised them as undead.

… were one's forces over and over … by the Sâ'yminfiäl … their mad thoughts consuming weak earth-born minds … waking slumber and … the rituals of Khalidah … that trio with their twisted whispers of thought … promises and fears … the walkers in earth, guided the anchor of Earth … eating up through the mountain's root …

The pieces hinted at strange things. Wynn lingered most over mention of "walkers in earth" and "guided the anchor of Earth." The latter was baffling, perhaps some siege engine used against the seatt. Whatever it was, it seemed the Stonewalkers had aided in this. But other parts took more time to connect, and when they did, it was so much the worse.

"Oh, no, no, no," Wynn whispered, and then quickly went silent.

The rituals of Khalidah … the trio with their whispers of thought … consuming weak earth-born minds …

Wynn understood what Sâ'yminfiäl, the Eaters of Silence, meant. They were sorcerers.

A trio of them had been part of the siege upon Bäalâle Seatt, along with Vespana and Ga'hetman.

Chane had deduced that the wraith was a conjuror, so it couldn't be one of them. That meant this Khalidah wasn't the wraith. One more name had now moved to one of her three known groups, but it still left too many others unclassified. She had nothing to truly support her notion, but she felt more and more certain that the wraith had served among the Reverent.

For whatever reason, it—he—was obsessed with seeking where the thirteen Children had gone. But also, much as she was now, had it been seeking what had happened at Bäalâle Seatt?

She was onto something, but what?

Wynn returned to Häs'saun's text, struggling with an ancient dialect she hadn't mastered. Almost as cryptic and secretive as the hidden writing in Chane's scroll, what little she fathomed was often condensed. She opened her journal to entries of names taken from the translations.

Jeyretan, Fäzabid, Memaneh, Creif, Uhmgadâ, Sau'ilahk .

The wraith had to be one of them. She didn't know what use might come of knowing its name. Perhaps it was just the need to know anything, any scrap concerning her enemy. But it might also help her understand any other references to the Reverent, anything they'd done … anything the wraith knew.

She read on, catching only every third word and doubtful of her translation, but she used these to guess at the others. She came upon a strange series of fragments that seemed connected.

… by the priest's jealousy of us … prayers like begging … with Beloved's three-edged boon … the joy of his petty vanity …

It was the closest she could translate, though she could be wrong. From Domin il'Sänke's comments concerning the scroll, it might be Pärpa'äsea rather than Iyindu, or even some other tongue. But it seemed that one of the Reverent had made a bargain with his Beloved to fulfill a vain wish.

What could an ancient Noble Dead have that anyone would envy for the sake of vanity? And why had Häs'saun claimed the boon was "three-edged"?

The metaphor of "two-edged" was part of almost any culture. It referred to a benefit that could be a downfall as well. "Three-edged" implied something worse, as if deficit outweighed any gain twofold.

… by beauty … frail the high priest was and is … his wish fulfilled … cheated with eternal life …

Wynn went cold in the pit of her stomach.

Not just one of the Reverent, but their very leader had asked for and received eternal life, but it didn't make sense. How could one be "cheated" by such a gift? And the Children were not alive; they were undead, Noble Dead.

And "was and is"? When had Häs'saun written this? How could he know what had happened, or would happen, to Beloved's high priest, considering Häs'saun had gone off with Li'kän, Volyno, and the orb?

… not mortal … not in young eternity …

Wynn sighed. That translation couldn't be right. She closed her eyes, reworking the phrases in her mind.

… never immortal … never eternally young …

"Three-edged" and a high priest's "vanity" began to connect. He hadn't just been after eternal life but eternal beauty. So why wouldn't eternal life provide that?

… Beloved's vain first [something] knew not what he would lose …

Whatever trick had been played on the high priest hadn't come to pass at the time of the siege.

… eternal being, Sau'ilahk shall never be …

Wynn came to a frantic halt.

She had found the name of the tricked priest, the last one among those identified as part of the Reverent. But it wasn't enough, and the rest of the page wasn't readable. She flipped to the next, but it started with an account of something else. There was no mention of Beloved's high priest.

"Eternal being but never be … what?" she whispered.

Or was that all there was to it? No eternal youth, no immortality, but eternal life just the same. What was the result of such a mistake in Sau'ilahk's shallow longing for beauty?

Wynn knew the answer, slowly rising to her feet.

"Ore-Locks," she said slowly, "I think I know who the wraith—"

"Someone comes," he cut in.

Wynn turned to find him facing the cave's far wall. She backstepped at the sight of a hulking figure emerging from stone and grew wary as it took form.

It wasn't Cinder-Shard.

"Master Bulwark," Ore-Locks said in equal surprise.

Wynn recognized his bony features and gray-blond hair. Her crystal's light glinted on the steel tips of his black-scaled hauberk.

Master Bulwark appeared equally surprised, then angrily suspicious. He glanced once at the guardian in the pool as he strode forward.

"I could not believe Cinder-Shard sent you here with the sage!" His eyes narrowed on Ore-Locks. "What have you been doing?"

"What I was told," Ore-Locks returned, though resentment leaked into his voice. "To wait until the sage finished and then notify Master Cinder-Shard to retrieve her."

Wynn took only a grain of comfort in the exchange. Bulwark didn't trust Ore-Locks. Perhaps he didn't even approve of Cinder-Shard taking in the outcast of the Iron-Braids. Did Bulwark know something about Ore-Locks's connection to Thallûhearag? Had Ore-Locks ever come to this cave before, trying to delve into the texts on his own?

The elder Stonewalker glowered at Ore-Locks and stepped past toward Wynn.

"Have you discovered anything useful?" he demanded.

"What?" Wynn sputtered. "Possibly … but I've barely begun. I need more time."

"The day has passed. Night has come again," he said. "You will return to your companions, as Ore-Locks is needed elsewhere. If you have something to report, I will inform the duchess, and she will come to you."

Wynn backed away. Apparently Bulwark was second only to Cinder-Shard. He was going to pull her through stone whether she wanted to go or not. She had little to tell, so little that she might never see the texts again.

"I can tell the duchess what I've learned," Wynn bluffed. "But she will want to know more once she hears it … as will Cinder-Shard."

Ore-Locks was already packing the texts away with great care. Bulwark merely stood waiting, speaking only to Ore-Locks.

"You may go. Find Amaranth and assist her until you are called."

As Ore-locks turned across the cave, Wynn sagged. She crouched to gather her things, never seeing him step into stone. One desperate notion struck her.