A Turn of Light (109 page)

The dragons, her dragon, were gone.

“Horst.” Bannan shook his head grimly. “We had to leave him.”

Jenn tucked her arm in his. “I know.” Crossing back had been, as Mistress Sand promised, a matter of being there, and wanting to be here. Here was the Spine and the path down. A path she no longer feared. This was no longer the Wound, but a path like any other. Though, from the rustling, there were a few nyphrit.

Rabbits, she warned them.

There were two less mounds on the Spine, and those left were sunk deeper in the ground. Explaining that she’d leave to the astronomers.

Bannan stopped at the first bend, turning to her. “You could wait here.”

“It’s all right. I’ll come.”

Jenn had braced herself, but she gasped as she saw Uncle Horst’s body, slumped against the tree. “Is he—?” There was so much blood. He couldn’t possibly . . .

The truthseer dropped to one knee beside him. After an endless moment, he looked up. “He’s alive, but not by much. We have to get him to the village.” He lifted the other as gently as he could.

They could use Scourge. “I’ll get Davi and his cart.”

“The trees blocked the path,” he warned.

“That much,” Jenn promised, “I can do.”

In the end, it was Urcet and Roche with the small wagon, the telescope left in the commons. The long-legged ox proved nimble and the old trees listened when Jenn demanded passage, though they’d shed some branches that had to be moved. And though Urcet and Roche paled at how quickly the road passed on the homeward trip, they made no comment.

“Sweetling na?” Mistress Sand came out of her tent, with Master Riverstone behind her. Seeing what they brought, she made a sound of distress. “Bring him inside, quickly. We have our ways,” she added, giving Jenn a look full of meaning.

They’d helped Wainn, Jenn remembered, and nodded gratefully. “Please. Anything you can do. Uncle—” Her fingers stroked the unconscious man’s hand, then she looked up. “He saved me, as much as anyone did. I shouldn’t have tried to go alone.”

“If you hadn’t,” Sand said soberly, “who’s to know what would have happened na?” As the others worked to move Uncle Horst, she came close, her eyes suddenly aglow. “Sei. Can it be na?”

“It wasn’t a pebble.” Jenn took a deep breath. “But I feel—I feel myself again. As if nothing had happened. Whole.”

“What’s in you, Sweetling, is nothing we’d dare touch,” the turn-born told her, which was hardly a comfort, then she added what was, “All’s well, I say. Now go reassure your aunt. She’s refusing to hold the weddings until she knows you’re safe, and no one argues with that fine lady.”

“No,” Jenn almost smiled. “No, they don’t.”

“I’ll take your word for it, sir.”

Bannan, razor poised at his throat, paused to regard his friend in the mirror. “We crossed to the other world. The Verge. And back.”

Tir gave a contented grunt. “S’long as I don’t have to.”

“You might like it.” The truthseer smiled to himself. “There are dragons.”

“That’s not as appealing as you might think, sir.” But Tir’s eyes gleamed above his mask. “You say the bloody beast stayed behind. I won’t say I’ll miss him—”

“We both will.” Shave done, Bannan rinsed his blade. “But he deserves to live his own life.”

“Speaking of that, sir. Bannan.”

When his name came out, things were serious. This time, however, he suspected the best, not the worst. “I take it you’re leaving Marrowdell.”

Tir
leapt to his feet. “Knowing if you hear the truth’s one thing,” he said suspiciously. “Spying out a man’s secrets is another altogether.”

“Peace, my friend.” Bannan turned and raised an eyebrow. “Lady Mahavar’s offered you service in Avyo, hasn’t she?”

“The good lady needed an escort to Endshere, sir, and who else was to do it? And as I told her, Endshere’s not good enough, what with her guardsmen being lax at best, so I’d go to Weken and on—” Tir stopped and rubbed a hand over his head. “That obvious, was it?”

“That obvious.” Bannan put his hand on the other’s shoulder. “And I couldn’t be happier. Get her safely here again, come spring.” He pushed gently. “Both of you.”

Tir nodded, eyes agleam. “I confess I’d worried if you could manage without me, sir, being alone as you are and helpless. But I know you will. She loves you.”

“It’s that obvious?” the truthseer asked, bemused.

“To a blind man,” Tir said with complete satisfaction.

“Jenn, do you have any?” Peggs sounded desperate.

“I’m looking.” Jenn couldn’t help her smile. Who’d have thought, after the morning’s wild adventures, she’d be frantically hunting hairpins.

Who’d have thought she’d be without Wisp or Wyll.

Which was, she reminded herself, because he was finally being who he should be, where he should be, without some fool girl interfering. “Found some,” she exclaimed, stuffing them in her mouth and turning to her sister.

Who, despite a few stray hairs, had never been more beautiful. “What?” Peggs asked, giving her dress a worried look. “Is something else wrong?”

“Nothing,” Jenn assured her, mumbling through the pins. “Nothing at all.” She climbed on the bed to fix Peggs’ hair. “There. You’re perfect.”

“Hardly,” her sister said, but happily. The dress, their mother’s, was wedding blue, the bodice thick with silver thread. Melusine’s circlet crowned Peggs’ thick black hair and her eyes sparkled with joy. “Now, you?” She captured Jenn’s face in her hands and searched it, finally nodding. “I can’t believe the difference. And you’re sure there’s no—ah—rocks?”

“No rocks. Or gloves.” She raised her arms, sleeves falling back to reveal skin. “That’s how terst look like us. Wainn knew. I’m who I am. If I want to look like them, I can. I’ll show you,” she offered shyly, “if you like.”

Peggs nodded at once. “Please.”

Undoing her laces, Jenn let her shift fall to her ankles, then did.

It wasn’t so much a wish, as an inward, ticklish stretch, that left her glass, light, and a sei’s tears.

She stood on the bed and waited for her sister’s opinion. It mattered, Jenn suddenly realized, more than anything.

“Ancestors Blessed,” Peggs whispered. Her fingers trembled as they touched Jenn’s arm, then her face. Just as she began to worry, her sister’s face lit with a smile and Peggs poked her in the ribs, making her giggle. “You feel like you,” Peggs announced with satisfaction, as if that had been of greatest concern, then shook her head wonderingly. “But how you look, like this? I’ve no words for how strange and beautiful you are, little sister. Kydd will want to paint your portrait.”

“I’m not,” Jenn said firmly, pulling on her shift, “posing like this for your husband.”

Peggs laughed, then sobered. “Everything’s better now, isn’t it? Even Wyll?”

She nodded. Bannan had thought to say that he’d given Wyll his horse, as his former rival saw no more reason to stay, but Peggs knew the truth. “Much better,” she said. “He’s free now and happy.”

Otherwise, the Great Turn had passed with no greater incident, so far as Marrowdell was concerned, than a minor rumbling of the earth that sank those portions of the Bone Hills on the Spine. Of more interest and import was poor Horst being mauled by what everyone assumed to be a bear. But they had him back, and he’d heal, surely a sign this was the Ancestors’ Golden Day.

And soon, the weddings.

“Hurry up,” she ordered her sister. “Kydd’s waiting!”

Marrowdell gathered under a cloudless sky, to inform the Ancestors on their Golden Day of the union of families, as Rhothans did. Other weddings might be more formal or less; others, Jenn was sure, weren’t as much fun. For this was a time of joy and hope, and only smiles would do.

The brides were beautiful, every one. The grooms, well, there was no doubt Tadd and Allin hadn’t been as clean in all their lives, and their mother had surely tied the bands around their waists, but Kydd Uhthoff? He wore his brother’s best long coat, despite the weather, and looked like a lord.

Except, Jenn smiled to herself, when he saw Peggs. Dignity was part of the man and grace, but that boyish grin took years from his face.

For the Wedding Beholding, the three couples would stand on a carpet. There being none large enough, a quilt had been laid out by the fountain, but no rug could be finer, Aunt Sybb had declared, given the quality of the work. Frann had actually blushed. The Beholding itself was led by the eldest of the bride’s family. There being three brides, two being connected to the same family, and none of Palma’s relations in the village, all had agreed Master Jupp should be asked instead.

The twins and Devins, Hettie had informed Jenn and Peggs with a grin, had promptly placed bets on whether Old Jupp would remember to be there.

They’d lost, of course. An event like this was tonic to a gentleman of past responsibility and honor. Well ahead of time, he arrived with Riss on his arm, wearing his finest tall hat and prepared to do his duty.

“Did you like it?” Alyssa whispered as they waited for him to be ready. “I made the string.”

Jenn smiled down at the child, touching the painted bead. “Very much,” she whispered back. As Peggs had planned, her birthday gifts had arrived before the weddings. The colorful bead, on its freshly braided string, was from the Ropps and had been originally carved by Zehr Emms. The Treffs had given her a book of poetry remarkably similar to the one she’d thought to borrow from Master Dusom. Devins and Roche, not to her surprise, had given her a rather familiar jar of pickles. Riss and her great-uncle’s gift was one of her beautiful tapestried pillows. The Emms shouldn’t have brought her a gift, since they’d given her a roof and bed, but nothing would do but Gallie give her a candlestick that had been Lorra’s last year. The dema and Urcet had gotten involved as well, though as guests it wasn’t expected of them, giving her a small brass telescope. Hettie couldn’t keep her eyes off it, so Jenn knew who would get it next. The tinkers brought her a keg of beer, Flint giving a wink, and Jenn had immediately promised to share it.

As for Bannan Larmensu? He’d looked mysterious and said his present would come later.

She could hardly wait.

Poppa had kissed her forehead, then looked her in the eyes to say she was now adult in the eyes of the law and free to make her own choices. Aunt Sybb had smiled, adding, “Something you’ve always done, Dearest Heart.” With Peggs, they’d taken her in their arms, and that moment had been the best gift of all.