Bek shook his head, thinking through what little he knew of the specifics of her life. How could one deed be darker than any other? What one deed would that be?
“This one deed . . . ,” he began.
Is known only to her, because it is the one she has fixed upon. She alone knows what it is—
Bek considered. “But how long will it take for such a thing to happen? How will it even come about?”
Time—
Time we don’t have, Bek thought. Time that slips away like night toward day, a certainty of loss that cannot be reversed. —“There must be something we can do to help!” he exclaimed.
Nothing—
Despair settled through him, pulling down hopes and stealing away possibilities. All he could do, all anyone could do, was to keep Grianne out of the hands of the Morgawr and his Mwellrets. Keep running. Wait patiently. Hope she found a way clear of her prison. It wasn’t much. It was nothing.
“Truls wants to leave her,” he said quietly, searching for something more upon which to rely. “What if he does?”
His destiny is not yours. Even if he goes, you must stay—
Bek exhaled sharply.
Remember your promise—
“I would never forget it. She is my sister.” He paused, rubbing at his eyes. “I don’t understand something. Why is she so important to you, Walker? She was your enemy. Why are you trying so hard to save her now? Why do you say she is your hope and trust?”
Shards of moonlight knifed through the transparent form, causing it to shift and change. Below, the waters of the pond rippled gently.
When she wakes, she will know—
“But what if she doesn’t wake?” Bek demanded. “What if she doesn’t come back from where she has hidden inside?”
She will know—
He began receding into the dark.
“Walker, wait!” Bek was suddenly desperate. “I can’t do this! I don’t have the skills or experience or anything! How can I reach her? She won’t even listen to me when she’s awake! She won’t tell me anything!”
She will know—
“How can she know anything if I can’t explain it to her?” Bek charged ahead a few steps, stopping at the edge of the pond. The Druid was fading away. “Someone has to tell her, Walker!”
But the shade disappeared, and Bek was left alone with his confusion. He stood without moving for a long time, staring at the space Walker had occupied, repeating his words over and over, trying to understand them.
She will know.
Grianne Ohmsford, his sister, the Ilse Witch, mortal enemy of the Druids and of Walker, in particular.
She will know.
There was no sense to it.
Yet in his heart, where such things reveal themselves like rainbows after thunderstorms, he knew it to be true.
FIFTEEN
Bek returned to the camp to find Grianne still sleeping and Truls Rohk not yet returned. The position of the stars told him it was after midnight, so he went back to sleep and did not wake again until he felt the shape-shifter’s hand resting on his shoulder.
“Time to go,” the other said quietly, eyes on the woods behind them.
“How close are they?” Bek asked at once. It was first light, the sunrise just a silvery glow east.
“Still a distance off, but getting closer. They haven’t found our trail yet, but they will soon.”
“The caulls?”
“The caulls. Mutations of humans captured and altered by magic.” He shifted his gaze back to Bek. “Your sister’s work, I would have said, if she wasn’t here with us. So it must be the Morgawr. Wonder where he found his victims.”
Bek sat up quickly. “Not Quentin or the others? Not the Rovers?”
Truls Rohk took his arm and pulled him to his feet. “Don’t think about it. Think about staying one step ahead of them. That’s worry enough for now.”
He walked over to the supplies pack he carried and pulled out some of the bread. Breaking off a piece, he handed it to Bek. “If you were like me, you wouldn’t need this.” He laughed softly. “Of course, if you were like me, you wouldn’t be in this mess.”