Sentinels‘ place to tell Faraday that. ―The trees have chosen you for a reason, Faraday, and that
reason contains only joy. No sadness. Believe me.‖
A shadow crossed Faraday‘s face. ―They were so sad,‖ she whispered, remembering the
Tree Song. ―Yet so beautiful.‖
―They were slaughtered across Achar, dear one. Few remain. Lovely lady,‖ Jack moved
to change the subject, ―tomorrow we will take you to Fernbrake Lake. But you must understand
that Timozel cannot, must not, come with us. He is an Axe-Wielder and he would be in danger
there.‖
Faraday looked alarmed, but Yr reassured her. ―We will have to enchant him a little. He
will know nothing. He will simply sleep, unaware, while we visit Fernbrake Lake. Trust us.‖
Faraday sighed and nodded. ―I wish I had never left Skarabost,‖ she said quietly and
turned away.
28
FERNBRAKE LAKE
Hours before dawn the next morning Yr raised herself from Timozel‘s side and looked
about. Jack stood waiting silently a few paces away, staff in hand. Their glowing eyes met, but
neither said a word. Yr looked down at Timozel, deep in sleep, his youthful face boyish in
repose. She carefully spread her hand across his face, fingertips at his temples, thumb on the
point of his chin. Blue light pulsed lightly from her fingertips. She glanced at Jack and he
stepped forward and gently laid the knob of his staff on the back of Yr‘s hand where it rested on
Timozel‘s face. The blue light around her fingertips intensified twenty-fold, and both squinted a
little in the sudden brightness. Jack‘s lips moved silently, while Yr‘s face was a mask of
concentration.
Faraday watched from a safe distance. Poor Timozel, caught up in an adventure that he
had not wanted. Unwillingly subjected to an enchantment about which he knew nothing and that
he would loathe and fear if he did know. She fidgeted, feeling nervous about the day ahead. Why
had the Prophecy sprung to life in hers and Axis‘ lifetimes?
Precisely because it is your lifetimes, a small voice echoed in her head, and she noticed
Jack looking at her. Had he invaded her head as well?
Timozel‘s breathing slowed gradually until he breathed only once every minute. Yr
scrambled to her feet and slipped her rough worsted dress over her head, cinching it tight about
her waist at the same time as she wriggled her feet into her boots. She twisted her hair into a knot
behind her neck.
―What have you done to him?‖ Faraday asked quietly as she stepped up beside the
Sentinel.
Yr glanced at her. Faraday seemed drawn and pale in the faint light emitted by the coals
left from last night‘s fire. ―What I have done, with the help of Jack‘s staff, is to move him
slightly outside the normal flow of time. What would normally be another three hours of sleep
will now extend into three days, if not more. He will wake with no sense of having slept that
long.‖
―Will he be all right? What if it rains…snows? How will he keep warm?‖
Yr stroked Faraday‘s cheek soothingly. ―Hush now, sweet child. We are well within the
protection of Fernbrake Lake at this point. The Lake knows we are coming, and the Lake knows
that Timozel, the pigs and even the mule require the same protection as ourselves. She will keep
him in Her care until we return. He will stay warm and safe, and the mule and the pigs will
remain close by. The worst of the weather will pass well overhead.‖
―She?‖ What did Yr mean, talking of the lake as if it were alive?
Jack stepped up behind them, handing them their cloaks. Protected or not, the air was still
close to freezing. ―Come. The Mother awaits.‖
Faraday shifted her eyes nervously between them. ―The Mother?‖
Jack smiled gently, and his eyes were soft. ―Faraday, do you remember how scared you
felt before you walked into the unknown Chamber of the Star Gate?‖ Faraday nodded. ―And do
you remember how you felt when you gazed into the Star Gate itself?‖ Faraday nodded again,
more strongly this time. She would never let that sight fade from her mind. ―Faraday. The Star
Gate is one of the most magical and powerful places in this land of Tencendor. Fernbrake Lake,
or the Mother, as it is anciently known, is another. You are caught up in an adventure that you
did not ask for and did not want. But, think on this sweet lady, you are witnessing wonders that
none of your race have seen for close on a thousand years.‖
Faraday pondered Jack‘s words, and the stress lines on her face slowly began to ease. She
had seen the Star Gate, and even if she never saw it again it was enough simply to know that it
was there, that it existed.
―Yr. I know so little. Will you tell me of Tencendor as we walk?‖
Yr took Faraday‘s hand between both of her own. ―Gladly, sweet child. Gladly. Today
we will see a part of Tencendor that still survives, that still lives much as it did before…before
the Seneschal started to murder this beautiful land.‖
―Come,‖ Jack‘s voice was brisk. ―We will have to climb most of the day.‖
The two women shouldered the smallish packs that Jack had prepared for them. Faraday
paused a moment by Timozel‘s side, then touched his cheek gently. ―Rest well,‖ she said softly.
―I will return safely.‖
Jack finished checking the camp, hefted his own larger pack onto his back, and gestured
impatiently. Yr led Faraday towards the end of Pig Gully where a trail wound up into the
mountains. When they turned their backs Jack leaned swiftly down to Timozel‘s side and placed
his hand over the man‘s face. Faint green light glowed at his fingertips. After a moment Jack
lifted his hand off, puzzlement written over his face. He wiped his hand through his blond hair, considering. Veremund had told him clearly what he had felt when he had tested Timozel in the
Silent Woman Keep. A good heart, but shadowed with unhappiness. The promise of troubled
choices in his future. Yes, all that was there, but there was also a taint of something strange that
Jack could not identify and that made him very uncomfortable, very uncomfortable indeed. He
stood up and hurried after Yr and Faraday. Again he wished he had led Faraday and Timozel into
some other Barrow than the one he had. Any Barrow but that of the ninth Enchanter-Talon. But
Jack could not deny the Prophecy, and none of the marked could ever evade the Prophet‘s hand.
They climbed solidly until the sun crested the mountain ridges that rose far above them.
No-one had any breath left for talking once they started to bend their backs into the steep
mountain path out of Pig Gully. For a long time the only sound was the crunch of their booted
feet on the gravel of the path. Once the sun was well clear of the mountain ridges Jack called a
halt. Yr and Faraday sank gratefully against the rocky mountain wall of the path, legs
outstretched. Faraday wondered vaguely if all of Tencendor‘s wonders existed at the very top of
the world or at the very bottom.
―All others have been destroyed,‖ Yr gasped by her side. ―Only those at the top and the
bottom of the world have survived.‖
Faraday closed her eyes in weariness. She would never get used to the Sentinel‘s
unnerving habit of reading thoughts. Yr leaned over and patted her hand. ―We do not do it all the
time, dear child,‖ she muttered. ―We try to be polite.‖
―Oh, Yr! What thoughts did you catch as you wandered the corridors of Priam‘s palace?‖
Yr‘s grin faded a little. ―Not always pretty ones, dear one, not always pretty ones.‖ She
thought about some of the more irksome and surprising knowledge she had picked up at the
palace, not to mention the troubling secrets she had gathered on her regular forays to the Tower
of the Seneschal. Thank the Mother that Axis was away from the Tower for the time being.
Perhaps, just perhaps, his journey north would open his eyes to some of the lies that enveloped
him. The sooner he was freed from their falsehoods the sooner he would find his own truths.
Jack sat a little further up the track watching them. He was immensely relieved that they
had been able to leave Timozel behind. When he and the other Sentinels had discussed spiriting
Faraday away to Borneheld, they had wanted the opportunity to train her as much as possible
before events overtook them. But he and Yr had been severely restrained by Timozel‘s presence,
and Faraday still had to step firmly onto the path that the Prophecy had chosen for her.
He passed out thick slices of ham, crunchy currant biscuits, and tawny, dried summer
apples. If Timozel had been an unplanned nuisance, then Goodwife Renkin had served her