You Can't Go Home Again, Page 2

believe I asked your name?"

  "Taslin." Her voice was like her face, all crisp angles. Up close, her eyes were as violet as her skirt, and still fixed on Dora.

  Dora was too short to reach the cuffs that restrained the Gift-Giver. "Rel, let her down, would you?"

  "Just a minute." He walked over to stand beside her, studying Taslin. Dora frowned as his gaze took in the Wilder's extravagant cleavage for far longer than manners allowed. He said, "What were you doing here last night?"

  Taslin's eyes flickered briefly to Rel's face, then back to Dora. "I was looking for Dora."

  "Why?"

  "Rel-" Dora put a hand on his shoulder, but he just glared at her.

  Jadil came up behind him. "We have to let her go. It's the law."

  "This is our domain, Sheriff, not yours." Rel turned his glare on the other man, who took a stumbled half-step back. "I just need some answers before I'm happy giving her the run of your town."

  The Sheriff looked from Taslin to Dora, set his jaw, and stepped back further. Taslin was staring at Rel, eyebrows raised. Dora tried again, "Relvin, what are you playing at?"

  "Something strange is going on, Dora. Several strange things. What happened to you and Beris and Notia yesterday? It was Tawny and this one you were with on the canal path, right?"

  "Notia Tollan is the new Four Knot for Federas." The words escaped her before she realised what she was saying. She clamped her jaw shut and spent a confusing moment trying to glare at her own tongue. She was the Four Knot, how could Notia be replacing her? But the memory was there; the four human women with Taslin and another Gift-Giver at the Court, deep in the Second Realm, while Notia drank the amber liquid that tied the Gift into her.

  Rel at least had the decency to look shocked - or was it frightened? - but he rounded quickly on Taslin. "What the hell's going on? Dora's our Four Knot."

  The Wilder matched him tone for incisive tone. "We have something else planned for Dora. If she chooses not to tell you, then it is between her and us. Not you, Clearseer." Dora remembered no plan. This business with Notia needed sorting out, but maybe at least she'd know what Taslin was on about. The sooner they got back to Federas the better.

  Rel, on the other hand, seemed rather attached to the argument. "And if I judge you're a threat to her? It's my duty to protect the First Realm from Wildren."

  Dora squeezed Rel's shoulder more forcefully. "Enough, Rel. If I need protection, I'll let you know. Release her."

  Rel glared daggers at her, then at Taslin. Dora felt a quick rush of relief as she spotted him very definitely not looking at Jadil - she could still read that much in him at least. Taslin glared right back at the Clearseer. Finally, he took a step forward and reached up to undo the Wilder's cuffs. The motion left him only inches from Taslin, and she drew herself up to match, eye-to-eye.

  The Gift-Giver let her arms drop to her sides, but made no move to leave the Warding Hall, despite the stress of being so near the Stable Rods. Instead, she went back to staring straight at Dora. Rel stepped back, gesturing vaguely at the door. For a long moment, no-one said anything.

  "You're free to go, Taslin." Even Rel's voice scowled.

  The Wilder's eyes darted to him, then the door, then settled back on Dora. "I go where Dora goes."

  Dora felt her own brows knit. "Why?"

  "We can argue that later, Dora," Rel said. "I need to speak to you. Alone." He glared at Taslin, but she was still fixed on Dora.

  Dora studied Rel's face, still confused. His usual hostility towards Wildren had a new edge today, but why? What had he been up to when she rescued him from the Second Realm, or whatever it was had happened the previous evening? Something about her mention of Van Raighan had set him off, too. Thinking of the quiet huddle of Federas and the hundred things that could have gone wrong overnight, Dora shivered.

  Rel said, "Taslin? I need to speak to Dora alone. I need you to wait outside." The Wilder's eyes stayed fixed on Dora with almost physical force, and she didn't respond. Rel continued, "Dora? You alive in there?" She realised he was leaning around to look in her eyes, and blinked.

  To Taslin, she said, "Sorry, would you mind waiting outside for a moment?"

  The Gift-Giver's face creased with anger, and she took a small step forward. "I'm not letting you out of my sight. We need to monitor you closely at all times."

  Dora stepped back, unease transforming into a tickle of fear at the base of her spine. Glancing from Rel to Taslin, she said, "Rel, does it really matter if Taslin's here?"

  "Yes. Absolutely."

  "Well, what do you need to tell me about? Maybe we can arrange something." Rel was still scowling at Taslin, who was scowling at her. Dora chose not to complete the triangle, and stole a look at Jadil. The Sheriff was edging slowly towards the door, apparently without realising.

  "It's something Van Raighan said when we took him, and it concerns the Gift-Givers. Beyond that, I won't say in front of her." Rel turned to face Dora as he finished, jerking his head slightly in Taslin's direction.

  What the hell was he playing at? "You're worried by something a monster like him said?"

  Rel sighed, and suddenly Dora saw the unease in the way he held himself, the slight swallow as he started to speak. "Van Raighan's a Witness, Dora. You need to know what he showed us before you decide whether she can go with you."

  Dora twitched her shoulders against the chill creeping across her back. Something had her Clearseer really rattled, but Taslin's knife-blade face had 'immovable object' written all over it. It was going to be a while before they got home, then. Would it really be so bad just to trust the Wilder? At least Federas had had Tawny overnight, but the town would be on its own soon.

  As if a rope holding him had just snapped, Rel turned and strode for the door, saying, "Come on, Dora. Sheriff, I need to use your office for a few minutes, if I may?" He glanced at Jadil, then pulled a face that might have been an attempt at an apologetic smile. It ended up as a grimace. "I'd ask for the Four Knot's, but she's not here."

  Jadil nodded stiffly and followed him out. Dora shivered again as she was left alone with the Wilder. Did Rel mean for her to follow? Again, she found she couldn't quite grasp what he was after. Grinding her teeth, she followed the men outside, Taslin hard on her heels. Cold sunlight caught her by surprise and she almost tripped over the step.

  Rel set a fast pace that Jadil sweated to match as he led the way across town. Dora, used to brisk walking, kept up easily enough, but Taslin seemed to struggle with her figure-hugging skirt. Concentrating on following the men, Dora caught occasional glimpses of the Gift-Giver out of the corner of her eye, and every time she looked less human - and yet, less inhuman as well; she read a mix of frustration, determination and an odd undercurrent of anxiety in Taslin's profile.

  How could Dora recognise that, but not read Rel? Uncertainty twisted in her, and she worried how badly her judgement was impaired. Was Rel right about Taslin? If not, it fell to Dora to make him accept her. Rel had always trusted her, bowed to her judgement, and she needed that faith more than ever right now. She trusted the Gift-Givers, and they knew what had been done to her. She needed them.

  Jadil's office was as far from the Warding Hall as it could reasonably be, a clear ten minutes' walk up and over the ridge in the centre of town, among the neat boarding-houses and pubs that housed most of Nursim's quarry-workers. Late morning, the streets were empty save for a couple of donkey-carts laden with new-quarried limestone, each minded by a pair of scrawny, dark-haired local youths.

  The guardhouse was a broad, squat building, the lower floor dug well back into the hillside. A short staircase of well-worn oak took them to a catwalk around the outside of the first storey, the boards creaking slightly underfoot. Jadil led them into an untidy room too small for four people to fit comfortably around the huge desk and its mound of coarse paper.

  Rel grabbed a loose sheet from the top of the pile and asked to borrow a pencil. Insight dawned. Reflexively, Dora looked at Taslin, whose f
ace had twisted with pent-up rage. The written word was anathema to Children of the Wild; it was rude of Rel, but expedient, and that he was prepared to scorn Taslin so openly said much about his concern.

  Dora found herself craning her neck to look over his shoulder, leaning on the desk, as he wrote 'VR's witnessing suggested he was working for Gift-Givers. Possible collusion with predatory Wildren. Would like your opinion'. His handwriting was fast and impeccably neat - Rel never passed up any skill which gave him an advantage over the Second Realm. Another shiver ran through Dora; Rel could have misjudged. He must have, finally led astray by his hatred of Wildren. Still, if she needed his trust then she owed him hers. She answered his expectant look with a curt nod.

  "Sheriff, is there a Gatemaker in town?" Rel glared at Taslin as he straightened up, only then turning to the other man.

  Jadil nodded, "We have two. They'll be at the quarries."

  "No!" Taslin accompanied her shout by grabbing hold of Dora's arm. Dora jerked away, but the Wilder's grip was stone. Out of her depth she might be, but Taslin realised what Rel was trying - to protect them from traps, Gift-Givers couldn't pass through a human-made Gateway. Given a clear look, Taslin would be able to copy the Gate, but if Nursim's Gatemakers were worth their salt, they'd be able to escape her.

  "Don't." Rel's voice was a growl, and he raised his hands in the tight space between them. "You want to make a nuisance of yourself, fair enough, but try to hold Dora against her will and I will put you back in the Warding Hall."

  Taslin's entire body twitched as she fought back fury. After a moment with teeth bared and tendons flexing in her neck, she let go of Dora's hand, throwing it away like a bad fruit. Dora managed to keep from banging her knuckles on the wall behind her, but only just. Rel's glare never left Taslin's face. The Wilder returned his animosity in exact measure, eyes narrowed to violet knives.

  Dora took the opportunity to head for the door, saying, "We'll find them. I remember the way to the quarries at least. Thanks for your help, Jadil."

  The Sherriff nodded with obvious relief, then looked uncertainly at Rel and Taslin. Dora stepped outside into a sudden gust of cold air. Balance deserted her for a second and she leaned on the catwalk's hand-rail. Rel followed her outside. "Are you alright?"

  She blinked quickly and nodded. "I'm fine. That was just a bit intense."

  "You're telling me. Lead on."

  Dora pointed away up the hill and let Rel set the pace, happy to match him while Taslin struggled, swinging from towering anger to incongruous gracelessness. The echoing ring of pick on stone led them to the first of the active quarries, a jagged limestone bowl carved from the round peak of the hill. Perhaps a dozen men laboured at the face, none wearing more than trousers and a vest. A handful of teenagers managed donkeys and carts, all parked for loading with their backboards up against a flat patch of cliff away from the working men.

  Five feet up the cliff, a Gateway opened above one of the carts, and a jumble of rock dropped through with a crunch and a groan of stressed wood. A Gatemaker walked along the active face of the quarry, pausing wherever there was a pile of stone and opening the other end of his Gateway to let the rocks fall through. Rel marched over, his face a thundercloud. Dora followed close on his heels, recognising trouble in the stiffness of his walk.

  She managed to get the first word in. "Excuse me, Gatemaker?" He turned to look at her, revealing a weathered face and laughing eyes. Rangily built, a good five or ten years Dora's senior, he wore the same vest and rough trousers as his fellows, but a tattoo of a stone bridge marked his left shoulder. He took her in with a glance and a quick nod for her Four Knot.

  "I'm Wern. Can I help you, Four Knot?" He smiled as he spoke.

  "Dora. This is my Clearseer, Rel." Dora glanced over her shoulder, caught the edges of Taslin's glare, and quickly turned back. Wern frowned at the Wilder, but Dora didn't give him a chance to speak. "We need to get away from here quickly. On my authority, and I'd appreciate not having to explain until we're away."

  Wern shot a second uncomfortable glance at Taslin, then met Dora's eyes and nodded, "Where to?"

  "Just away. A couple of miles?" It was tempting to ask him to take them to Federas, but they'd only have to come back again.

  Wern nodded again, shouted across the quarry for the men to take a break, and waved a hand at the cliff face. The Gateway that opened faced South down a hillside covered in wild gorse, and even stressed as she was, the sunlight on the early golden spring-flowers took Dora's breath away.

  A final glance at Taslin revealed teeth-grinding, fist-clenched frustration. Dora quashed the desire to hurry and stepped smoothly through the Gateway after Rel. Wern followed, step faltering as he passed the Gift-Giver.

  Wind chased ripples in the scrub, plucking at Dora's skirt. She said, "Another move, please, just to be on the safe side."

  "Now hang on a moment. That was a Gift-Giver back there, wasn't it? She came into town last night." Suspicion sat uneasily on Wern's open features.

  Rel turned from watching the hillside. "She's making a nuisance of herself, and I need to speak to Dora alone."

  Dora made a hushing gesture at him, then faced Wern again. "There's a suggestion of foul play, possibly involving the Gift-Givers." The shudder that gripped her at the mere thought was mirrored in wide-eyed alarm that played across the Gatemaker's face. Raising a mollifying hand, Dora finished, "I just wanted to hear Rel's explanation before having to decide how to pursue the matter. You're welcome to stay and listen."

  A Gateway opened in the cliff behind them and Taslin started to step through. Wern took a second to glance from Four Knot to Gift-Giver, then dashed through a Gateway of his own. Dora followed with Rel almost falling over himself behind her, and they were back in the quarry. There was a disorienting moment as Wern realigned his Gateway to point elsewhere - Dora could almost feel First Realmspace twisting with the strain - and they were piling through again into an empty quarry.

  The Gateway vanished and Wern bent to put his hands on his knees, gasping for breath. Dora was surprised to find her own chest tight; Rel hid exertion behind stiff posture and a clenched jaw. Even a Gift-Giver would be hard-pressed to trace the destination of the second Gateway; Taslin was clearly talented, but Wern's quick reactions had bought them minutes if not longer.

  Dora straightened and cleared her throat, then fixed Rel with the glare she usually reserved for criminals arraigned for censure. "Rel. Explain."

  Even Dora's impaired perceptions could identify the flash of uncertainty that paled her Clearseer's complexion. He said, "When we took Van Raighan, he claimed Coercion and offered as proof a Witnessing of Wildren abducting his brother. One of them was a Gift-Giver. He said that he'd been promised his brother's safe release in exchange for stealing Stable Rods."

  Rel's face remained stony as he spoke, but his words shook Dora to her core. Wern straightened up, stiffly, his face white, his mouth hanging open. Dora closed her eyes, trying to sift implication and measure Rel's explanation against her own knowledge. "You're sure he told the truth about his brother? And the Gift-Giver?"

  "I had him show me again and used Clearsight. The resemblance was unmistakable, and the Gift-Giver vanished even in a Witnessing."

  Trying to cover alarm that might undermine his trust in her, Dora put a hand over her mouth and broke eye contact. Curling fingers of rising wind cut through her dress, suddenly rendered grossly inadequate as protection. She looked to Wern, searching for a moment's human contact to stabilise herself, but the Gatemaker was clearly lost, his eyes distant and glazed.

  Rel was frowning at her. Awaiting her opinion? Questioning her judgement? Worrying over her well-being? She needed to say something. Groping for anything to keep him on her side, she resorted to cheap tactics. "You were right, getting away from Taslin was a good idea."

  That bought her a little time, but what did she actually make of the story? Her every instinct shouted at her to do what she did on the rare occasions a Second
Realm problem stumped her and ask a Gift-Giver, but if there really was a conspiracy, secrecy might be the only advantage humanity had. Every Gift-Giver she'd ever met had seemed sincere in their devotion to peace between the Realms and the well-being of humanity, but the first rule of dealing with Wildren was that their logic was not ours. Trust only went so far.

  And yet, a single Gift-Giver engaged in collusion with predatory Wildren didn't - couldn't - implicate them all. The question lingered, too, that Rel had been to the Second Realm for some hard work of Clearseeing since Van Raighan's capture. Looking up into a scowl on his face growing darker by the moment, Dora said, "Tell me exactly what you saw. In the Witnessing and at the Court."

  "Five Wildren, one of them invisible to Clearsight, in a cave under one of the old cities, beating up Rissad. That's Van Raighan's brother." Angry, frustrated, afraid or whatever was making him unreadable to her, Rel's usual disciplined precision was missing from his report. "They... I'm not sure what it was they did, but some power I've not seen before. They buried him up to his waist in solid rock, I can't think how else to describe it. He-" Rel caught himself and took a deep breath. For a moment, the air behind him seemed to twist, but Dora blinked and the impression vanished. "They left him to starve, I think. At least, I was able to see time passing, him getting hungry. He was injured, a broken bone in his shoulder. He... He's a Gatemaker, and quite a powerful one, I think. He used a Gate to cut away the piece of rock he was buried in, then shattered it using a second. Broke a leg doing that.

  "Just after that, the Viewing stopped, like it does if I'm going to be there." He paused, scowling down at the floor, then at Wern, then over his shoulder at the patch of stone where the Gateway had been. "I went to the Court to see if I could pin down where he was or when it happened."

  "But if Van Raighan Witnessed it, hasn't it already happened?" There were limits to how far she was willing to stroke her Clearseer's ego by accepting nonsense.

  "I don't understand it. I Saw Rissad being captured, in a cave under one of the old cities, but even that won't happen for a few weeks. He'll be captured later this spring, after-" Rel faltered, "after you've had time to grow your hair out a bit."

  "My hair? What's that got to do with anything?" Dora caught herself reaching up to the bird's nest on her head and forced her hand back to her side.

  "I Saw you going towards the city, with your hair in a ponytail. That's before Rissad is taken."

  A ponytail might not be a bad idea, if she could just get a brush through the worst of her tangles of a morning. A Four Knot couldn't exactly ask for help with dressing. Brushing vanity aside, Dora focussed on the important bit of Rel's information. "You're saying Van Raighan found some way to Witness the future."

  "'What we know is that we know nothing', remember?" Rel quoted with a bitter smile. "There just isn't enough information to figure any of this out."

  His despair was frighteningly seductive; Dora fought the pull of psychological paralysis. If Rel's news was bad, her situation was all the worse. There could be no question of not confronting Taslin with the information, but Rel would take that with injured pride. Usually, he accepted her overruling him. Usually.

  Rubbing arms that were goosepimpled even under her sleeves, she said, "Do you have any idea why Rissad was captured?"

  Rel didn't answer immediately, instead turning to frown at Wern. His lip twisted and he bit at it, deep in thought. Dora could tell he had an idea, but she couldn't fathom his reluctance at all. Finally, he said, "It looked like he was exploring. Searching for something, maybe something from before the crash."

  A moment's insight offered a way to push further, "Come on, Rel, you're never usually this uncertain. What did you see?" She stepped forward and put a hand on his arm.

  "A door. A huge one, made of concrete. I know it sounds crazy, but that's what it was. In the cave, overlooking a chasm. They buried him in front of it, and when he got free he went for it instead of trying to get away." But for a slight waver in his voice, Rel could almost have been delivering an ordinary report in his usual clipped, formal style. Well, she doubted she sounded any better than he did.

  "He's a Van Raighan. Could it be he was up to no good?" Wern's question shamed Dora for sharing the thought.

  Rel's face softened. "That's what I thought at first, but it wouldn’t explain the ransom, or what the Wildren were doing there in the first place." He glanced at Dora. "Or whatever they did to you yesterday."

  "That's got nothing to do with it," Dora snapped, knowing it for falsehood even as she desperately clawed after wild, disordered memory for what had been done to her. Confusion and unravelling fear answered, that she might already be as much a victim of foul play as the Van Raighans. Among the Children of the Wild, she was known as the most formidable woman in the First Realm; never before had she regarded the epithet as cause for anxiety.

  Rel's bland expression, concern bereft of all his usual intensity to the point it became sarcastic, made her blood boil. She said, "We need to confront Taslin with this. Wern, please take us back to town." Rel's anger returned in a flash while the Gatemaker startled out of reverie. Conscious that she still needed her Clearseer's support, Dora held up a hand to placate him. "You were right to get me out here, Rel, but we can't just walk into this blindly. We need more information, and even if Taslin's in on it, her evasions might give us a clue."

  Wern stepped forward, but Rel waved him to a halt. The Clearseer said, "Her every appearance so far has been designed to manipulate us, you must see that?"

  "What?" Disbelief put scorn in her voice.

  "You think she didn't choose to appear that beautiful? It has to be a ploy to make us trust her."

  Taslin probably was beautiful, Dora realised as she fought to suppress sudden laughter. Or at least, to Rel's nineteen-year-old eyes, the sheer quantity of flesh the Gift-Giver had been showing must have been as near beautiful as made no odds. And yet, her Clearseer wasn't joking, crazy though the charge was. Something from yesterday had him really paranoid. Perhaps that explained why she couldn't make head or tail of his expressions.

  Manners required she not laugh. Need for Rel's trust made the stiffer demand, that she maintain dignity while nursing him out of his fear. Caught between his worries and her own, with too many questions yet unanswered, Dora's smothered mirth teetered on the brink of hysteria. Both men watched her with hard eyes, as if Rel's outburst was as rational as breathing.

  Dora swallowed, took a deep breath, and met Rel's gaze. She was gratified to see a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes before she said, "Rel, if Taslin wanted to win me over with a pretty face, don't you think she'd have picked male?"

  "I don't think she expected any problems from you." Imperious, Rel's tone verged on condescending insult. "The pretty face was for the Sheriff and the town guard."

  "She can't have expected problems from the Sheriff and not from me. After all, it's only the Sheriff's business because Tawny wasn't here. We're going to go and ask her about what you've seen, and that's final. Wern?"

  The Gatemaker managed a strangled smile, "I should get back to work anyway." He nodded to the quarry-face, and a Gateway appeared. Dora gestured for Rel to precede her, and it was a long moment's scowl before he did.

  They emerged into the quarry where they'd met Wern. The labourers were clustered in the lee of the cut-away hill