Karigan nodded and blew on a spoonful of stew.
“Where were you all day?” Ard asked.
“Just riding.”
“Just riding? Where?”
“East.” For some reason it irked her that he needed to know. To her, her ride with Condor was her own business. Private.
“East, huh,” Ard grumbled. He did not press her for more, but his gaze lingered on her longer than she liked.
Soon Dale and Trace arrived, followed first by Alton, and then Estral. They talked and laughed through supper, and none of them seemed to care she’d been gone all day, if they’d even noticed. Alton was seated too far away from her to carry on a conversation. This wasn’t the place to talk about their personal matters, anyway. Too many people around.
“Still no sign of the Eletians,” Trace said. “What if they don’t come?”
Ard, who appeared to be the man with the answers, replied, “Grant says we wait a few days and if they don’t show, we return to Sacor City.”
Karigan had stated before, and still believed, that the Eletians would come. They just wouldn’t reveal themselves before they were ready.
Estral edged her way into a space on the bench between Karigan and Garth and began talking about their day.
“There were arguments about who got assigned to which tower,” she said. “For some reason no one seemed particularly eager to stay at Mad Leaf’s tower, so Alton had them draw lots.”
“So who gets Mad Leaf?” Karigan had to admit that just the name Mad Leaf wouldn’t have made her too keen on being assigned to Tower of the Trees either.
“Garth.”
Karigan laughed. No wonder he sat so quiet hunkered over his food.
“I get to stay here at Tower of the Heavens when Alton and Dale visit the others.”
“You’ll become a regular Green Rider.”
“Not very likely,” Estral said. “I’ll be busy working out that piece of music from the Silverwood book. We’ll see how the guardians respond to it. Music is something I can do. I’ll leave the Green Ridering to Green Riders.”
Karigan gazed anew at her friend. Estral seemed to have taken to life here at the wall, her features animated as she talked about all the work that needed to be done. Estral had loved nothing more than teaching young students at Selium, but this was something else. There was a brightness to her Karigan didn’t remember seeing before.
But now Estral turned serious. “There’s something I would like to talk to you about if we could get a private moment later.”
Karigan nodded, wondering what it could be. Estral returned her nod with a faltering smile. Soon she was called upon to sing and play as she had been the previous night. When Karigan glanced at Alton, he was deep in conversation with Dale and Captain Wallace, going over papers of some sort. She excused herself and decided she would prepare her gear for tomorrow. She would seek out both Alton and Estral later. She would learn what was on Estral’s mind, and have private words with Alton, and perhaps more if all went well.
ALONE
Trace had beaten her back to their tent and lay sprawled on her cot, her eyes unfocused and glassy as she stared unblinking in a sort of trance. She was communicating with Connly. They each were gifted with a special ability to mentally converse, even over long distances. Karigan learned that in the past it was useful to have Riders with such abilities assigned to different regiments in battle because it allowed generals in their various positions to communicate quickly with one another without revealing anything to the enemy.
She also learned it was the most intimate bond a pair of Riders could have, looking into each other’s minds. Connly’s first partner, Joy, had been slain in the course of duty and he had never completely gotten over the severing of that bond. When Trace answered the Rider call and her ability manifested, Connly resented and resisted her, but with patience and compassion, she broke down his barriers. Now they were very close, and while they might be miles and miles apart, they were probably more intimate than most couples who shared the same physical space.
Trace had said their communication involved both images and words, and Karigan wondered what it was like. A dream maybe, but not so chaotic. Did Trace see Connly as he was, probably lying on his bed like Trace and staring into nothing, or did they create for themselves a lush green field vibrant with wildflowers in which to meet?
Karigan did not know, but Trace was smiling.
Karigan unpacked and reorganized her backpack so it would rest well-balanced on her shoulders. She oiled her saber and long knife, then her boots. Her memory of Blackveil was of a wet, dank environment, and she wanted her gear made as impervious to the damp as possible.
She propped the walking cane the Weapons had given her against her pack. It would be a good companion during their journey, but of course no substitute for Condor.
She patted her pocket where she kept the moonstone, the most precious object she’d be taking with her into Blackveil—precious because it had been something of her mother’s, and because it would be pure light, the light of a silver moon, in a very dark place.
Satisfied with her preparations, she left the tent and Trace, who was still in her deep communion with Connly. It must be amazing, Karigan thought, to know you’d never be alone. Trace told her that even when she and Connly were not communicating, there was always something of his warm and gentle touch in the back of her mind.
Karigan headed out first to the dining tent, but found it mostly abandoned except for a few cooks and the astonishing spectacle of Yates scrubbing pots. Edna was there beside him, of course.