Мерседес Лэки - Passages

Imra hadn’t realized she’d backed away from the child until she stood against the wall. Her heart thundered in her chest, and sadness and anguish pushed their way up her spine and settled once again on her shoulders. “How—” Was this possible? She’d said nothing about the Collegium, or even mentioned having once been a Herald at all. How did Izli even know? Why would she suspect?

But then the child stood, her expression one of worry and fright as she went to one of Imra’s bags and slowly retrieved the set of Whites. Izli held them with reverence as she placed them on the bed. “I—when mother told me to take your bags up to this room—I was going to sort your clothing. And then I saw these, and I knew. You were sent here by the Queen in secret to end Connak and his wicked ways.”

“Izli—”

“And I waited to see your horse, but it never came, and then it happened. You made Mother’s cooking good and the town has a purpose again. I heard stories about the Herald that saved us. And now you’re here.” She came close to Imra. “Please, show me your horse. I want to see it.”

The look of longing in the child’s eyes touched Imra. She saw Heralds and their Companions as magical beings. Perhaps, in some sense, their Companions were. Imra’s only gift outside of being a Herald had been a slight ability to influence people. She had used it to teach, to help students see the solutions, whereas before they blocked their minds from opening. Just as Merelyn had blocked her ability to cook. Just as Reyis had blocked his ability to see a simple way through a problem.

Izli turned and put her hand on the Whites. “Do you have to wear them to make the horse come?”

“No,” Imra said, and she realized she said the word too loud, too sharp. That single word carried so much of her pain that it held power, and Izli moved away from her, away from that power. It was dark and consuming and threatened to eat at her, take her down with it the moment she remembered what she had lost.

Imra stumbled a step as she moved to the Whites and placed a shaking hand on them. She let tears fall and heard the pat as they made dark spots on the pristine cloth. A swirling, howling abyss of despair filled the room.

Until . . .

:I lost myself for several years, dear one. While the world around me lived, and changed, and went on without me. She would not want you to give up on life, not when you still have the gifts all of those Chosen have.:

It was Sae’s voice, but it wasn’t. The words weren’t hers. They were Aerus’ from earlier. It would be so like Sae to remind her of important things. A mental tap to the forehead, as if to say wake up .

She had no idea how long she stood there, her hand on the Whites, her mind’s eye focused on Saelihn. Aerus was right. She’d known somehow, about Imra’s loss, because sadness finds kith and kin, and in that shared devastation there can be comfort.

“Imra?”

Imra slowly sat on the bed. She pulled the Whites to her and hugged them to her chest, her eyes closed. “Her name was Saelihn. I was Chosen when I was your age. I’d raced across a field to find my brother and tripped, but he’d fallen into a well. She found me and showed me where. She spoke to me in my mind, a voice so full of love—” Imra felt tears welling up, and she let them fall. “I felt as if I were whole, and the world opened up for me.”

Izli didn’t say anything as she moved to sit on the bed beside Imra.

“We were together for eighteen years.” Imra sniffed. “We were on our way back from Circuit. Coming from the south. I was tired and wanted to be in my own bed by nightfall, though Saelihn insisted we should find a Waystation and rest there. But I wasn’t listening and insisted on a path around the mountain. It was a narrow, bending, treacherous path. A stupid decision. But Saelihn took me anyway, because she knew I’d try it on my own if she didn’t.”

There was silence in the morning, an escalating tension.

Imra took a deep breath. “I didn’t see the rocks. But I could hear them above us. She . . . tried to run, to get us out of the way. But I was hit and knocked off her back.”

Izli had her hands on her face, her eyes wide.

“I don’t remember anything after that. Just darkness and a consuming loss. When I finally woke in Collegium, I was . . . Saelihn was . . .” Imra sobbed. “She saved me, stood over me, took the pounding of the rocks to protect . . . me. They found her—”

“No!” Izli was on her feet and wrapping her arms around Imra, holding her tight. “No, please. You don’t have to tell me anything else. I can’t even . . . I don’t want to know.”

Imra wrapped her own arms around Izli and sobbed. She cried the tears she’d held back for nearly a year, held in the arms of a child she barely knew.

Minutes passed before the tears stopped and Imra felt spent. Hollow. But she felt, in a sense, renewed. She had not told anyone or spoken about Sae’s death to anyone.

Until now.

Izli wiped at her face, took the Whites and carefully placed them back in the bag. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know they could—”

Imra nodded. “They can. And it’s hard to be without her voice in my mind. I am no longer a Herald. I haven’t been for nearly a year. I left Collegium to find a family again, a place to belong in a different paradigm. They live in Devin, or they did before I was Chosen. My brother should still be there . . .” Her voice trailed off when she heard a commotion downstairs.

“What is that?” Izli said and pulled back from Imra as the sound became loud.

Seconds later the door burst open and two men Imra recognized from the square the morning before moved in, followed by a large man with shaggy salt and pepper hair. He shoved Izli out of the way and rounded on Imra. “That’s her! Arrest her and lock her up!”

“What?” Izli shouted. “Connak, what are you doing? She hasn’t done anything wrong!”

“She’s incited the village against its leader. She’s a troublemaker, and I was warned by the Queen to be wary of such interlopers who would take advantage of the unrest in the world. She’ll stand trial as soon as we find Reyis and arrest him, too.”

The two men grabbed Imra by her arms and unceremoniously led her out of the inn. People stared as she was manhandled and shoved against the center well. Imra half-expected the townspeople to run away, so as not to become a target of Connak’s anger.

To her surprise, they didn’t. In fact, several of the women stepped forward and shoved the two men out of the way and stood between them and Imra. She looked around in alarm. What were they doing? Why were they putting themselves in the path of what was obvious danger?

“Knock it off, Connak,” Merelyn said as she stepped out of the inn with Izli behind her. “Imra’s done nothing wrong.”

“Like hell she hasn’t.” He whirled on Merelyn and stepped up into her space, but Merelyn didn’t move. No one did. “I’ve been to Haven, to ask the Queen for her help.” He turned and addressed the growing circle around them. “And she has assured me I am right in taxing the use of the lake on my land because it is mine. A Herald will be dispatched as soon as one is available and will back up my claims. There will be no more disputes.” He glared around as if to challenge anyone from speaking out.

Imra had seen this situation many, many times in her travels. She had also settled arguments with less of a claim than Connak’s. She knew he was lying. She knew in her heart he had not been to Haven because the Queen would never have agreed with him, nor would she have put up with his bull-headedness. And he hadn’t been gone long enough to get to Haven and back. But she wasn’t a Herald anymore.