She nodded slowly. “So you’re not really here. But this isn’t your shade, either. You aren’t dead.”
I’m not dead. Clizia Porse wishes I were. It was she who did this to me. She tricked me while we were inside the Keep summoning its Guardian, and left me for dead while she fled. Once clear of Paranor’s walls, she used her magic to send the Keep out of the Four Lands in order to keep it safe for her personal use later. She betrayed Paranor to the invaders, and the Druids are no more. She plans to rebuild the Druid order with herself as Ard Rhys. Listen to me now. Clizia is playing a game, and you are her pawn. She is not your friend.
“I don’t understand. It was Clizia who helped me recover when I returned from searching for—”
She is not your friend! She is pretending. While you have been sleeping, she has been busy trying to use you against me. You will remember she has a scrye orb, just as I do. Well, she used it to contact me and offer me my freedom if I would bring her a powerful magic called a Black Elfstone. She showed me an image of you sleeping and hinted that you would be safe only so long as she got what she wanted. She keeps you with her to use as a bargaining tool. As long as she thinks I will bring her the magic she wants, she won’t hurt you. But she won’t wait long. I need you to get out of there as soon as you can, any way that you can.
Tarsha was fully awake now, sitting up and facing Drisker. “What about you?”
Do not worry for me. I will find a way out on my own. Go to Dar Leah, if you can find him. If not, go to the Elves and ask for sanctuary. Do it right away! But be very careful. If she finds out what you are trying to do, she will bind you so securely you will never get free! You will likely only have one chance, so wait until you find it. Then run and don’t look back. She will come after you, but you must hide yourself.
“Not very comforting.” Tarsha was struggling to accept that she had been wrong about Clizia, even given Drisker’s earlier warnings and her own suspicions when the old woman had asked about the books of magic. She was angry for allowing herself to be deceived. “I don’t know where Dar Leah is. Can you help me find him? Can you go to him as you’ve come to me and ask him to help?”
Coming to you wasn’t as easy as it might seem. It don’t know how many more times I can do so. I wouldn’t have known I could do it at all if not for the Druid Histories. In their recordings, it told of how Cogline was trapped within Paranor. But he found he could leave by projecting his spirit self, his almost-shade, out into the world. He only needed direction and knowledge of his destination. He used it to search out Walker Boh, the Druid of his time. But there was a price for doing so. Each time he projected himself as a spirit, it took something from his corporeal form. He became further weakened and diminished. If he were to continue, he would disappear altogether. That is the risk I run, as well.
“Then you must go now. Don’t stay any longer. I can manage well enough now that I know the truth about Clizia.”
He rose and stood looking down at her, his face a mask of worry. Be wary, Tarsha. Clizia Porse is extremely dangerous, and she would snuff out your life without a second’s hesitation if she thought it necessary. You must not reveal I was here. You must not reveal what you have learned from me. You must not let her discover what you intend. This is asking a lot, but your life depends on how well you are able to manage the charade I am asking of you.
She nodded. “I understand. Just try to find a way out quickly. I need you. Tavo has killed all my family, and it may be that he intends to kill me, as well. He was coming to Emberen, so I came back here to find him. But now I don’t know what to do.”
Do only what I told you for now. That is enough. I will find a way to reach you. Look for me.
And he was gone, vanished from her sleeping chamber as if he had never been there, the room gone dark again, the air gone still and empty. Tarsha stayed propped up on one elbow for a moment, struggling with what she had been told, still not entirely sure it was real. If she hadn’t been a wielder of magic herself and aware of the strangeness that magic could perform, she would have doubted her senses. But she knew Drisker had been there, even if in diminished form, and had spoken to her. She knew everything he had said was true, and now she must do what she could to save herself.
She lay back slowly, eyes peering upward into the darkness. So much had happened in so short a time. She had made the journey to find Drisker and ask him to train her, and the Druid had taken her in. The Skaar had invaded the Four Lands and taken Paranor, killing all the Druids. Drisker’s home had been burned. Someone was trying to kill him, and now it appeared it was as he suspected—a fellow member of the fallen Druid order. Yet he had gone to Paranor, anyway, to try to save those he had once led. And she had gone in search of Tavo and found only the horrific death of her parents, the destruction of her home, and the enmity of her friends and neighbors.
What had she accomplished in all this?
Not much, she decided. Mostly, she had been struggling to find her way in the world, and her way remained a mystery. She remembered the old woman Parlindru, and her prophecies. The rule of three would be her fate, she had told her. Three times she would love, but only one would endure. Three times she would die, but each death would see her rise anew. And three times she would have a chance to make a difference in the lives of others and three times would do so, but once only would her actions change the world. So the old woman had told her—an old woman no one else saw, even though they had shared glasses of ale openly in a public house.
Tarsha’s thoughts shifted away from the prophecies and returned to her present predicament. There was no time for worrying about something so abstract and distant. She had to deal with the problem at hand. She had to get herself beyond Clizia Porse’s reach, but she had to plan carefully how to do so. She had to fool the old woman into believing nothing had changed while she prepared to slip away. She had to be smart. She had to be wary.
She could not afford to be afraid.
But it was too late for that. She was terrified.
Her eyes were suddenly heavy. The medication, she thought at once. A drug. Perhaps intended to keep her in line. But she needed to rest in any event, her recovery not yet complete. She would think about things once more when she woke.
Nevertheless, it took her a long time to fall back asleep.
FIFTEEN
Arraxin Dresch, first commander of the Federation army, assembled two companies of front-line soldiers in response to the orders from Ketter Vause, provisioned a transport, readied three warships, and set out for the Mermidon on the same day, as ordered. Even before departing, he sent a flit ahead to provide him with a more up-to-date report on the movements of the Skaar. Whatever lay ahead for his men, he intended to be ready for it.
He was a lifer, a career soldier with more than thirty years of service. He had begun as a lowly lieutenant but rose swiftly through the ranks to his present position, which he had assumed five years ago when his predecessor retired. He had fought in the Dwarf wars at the edge of the southern Anar and subdued an uprising of miners that threatened the Southland’s monopoly on the metals needed for making weapons and airships. He had hunted Gnome raiders in the far Northland when they began interfering in the shipping of goods to and from the major Southland cities, smashing a ring of pirates that had virtually shut down the air lanes north and east. His record as a commander was impressive and distinguished, and he did not intend to let it be sullied by some barbaric foreign invader. Another few years and it would be time for him to take retirement, and he wanted his career to end well.