“And the second?” he said, turning back to Rehnata.

“Is she,” here the girl looked away, not wanting Parno to see what was in her eyes, “is she Seeing?”

Parno frowned. This would be the first of many such questions, now that Dhulyn was no longer hiding her Mark. “I think so. She has not said it, but it seems when there is more pain, there is more Sight.”

A TALL THIN MAN WITH CLOSE-CROPPED HAIR THE COLOR OF WHEAT STRAW, EYES THE BLUE OF OLD ICE, DEEP ICE, SITS READING A BOUND BOOK LARGER THAN ANY SHE HAS EVER SEEN, TRACING A LINE ON THE PAGE WITH HIS FINGER,

HIS LIPS MOVING. STANDING, HE TAKES UP A HIGHLY POLISHED TWO-HANDED SWORD, AND HIS LONG LILY-SHAPED SLEEVES FALL BACK FROM HIS WRISTS.

HE TURNS TOWARD A CIRCULAR MIRROR, AS TALL AS HE IS HIMSELF, REFLECTING A NIGHT SKY FULL OF STARS. HIS LIPS MOVE AND DHULYN SEES THE WORDS FROM THE BOOK. ******* HE SAYS, AND **********. HE MAKES A MOVE FROM THE THIRD PASSAGE OF THE CRANE SHORA, AND SLASHES DOWNWARD THROUGH THE MIRROR, THROUGH THE SKY, SPLITTING IT, AND THE GREEN-TINTED SHADOW COMES SPILLING IN LIKE FOG THROUGH A CASEMENT…

CHILDREN TURNING A LONG ROPE; ONE RUNS IN, TIMING IT JUST RIGHT TO BE ABLE TO JUMP OVER THE ROPE AS IT SWINGS UNDER HIS FEET, OVER HIS HEAD, UNDER HIS FEET. HE SINGS A CHANT, AND ANOTHER CHILD, A CHILD WITH HIS OWN DARK COLORING, RUNS IN AND JUMPS WITH HIM. THEY BOTH SING, AND ANOTHER GIRL JOINS THEM…

MAR SITS DOWN, FROWNING, HER DELICATE BROWS DRAWN AS FAR DOWN AS THEY WILL GO, HER MOUTH TWISTED TO ONE SIDE AS IF SHE IS CONCENTRATING WITH ALL THE STRENGTH OF HER MIND. SHE WEARS A LIGHT LINEN SLEEPING SHIRT THAT HAS BEEN TORN ON THE LEFT SHOULDER AND CAREFULLY MENDED BY A HAND SKILLED WITH THE NEEDLE. SHE BREATHES HEAVILY THROUGH HER NOSE AND STANDS UP, STILL LOOKING DOWN AT WHAT NOW APPEARS TO BE THE TOP OF A TABLE. THERE IS SOMETHING ROUND AND WHITE ON THE TABLETOP, BUT IT ISN’T UNTIL MAR RESTS HER HANDS ON IT THAT DHULYN CAN SEE IT IS MAR’S BOWL. AT THIS TOUCH THE WATER IN THE BOWL SHIVERS AND MAKES THE REFLECTED IMAGE OF CANDLE FLAME DANCE. SO IT IS NIGHT. AS DHULYN HAS THIS THOUGHT, MAR LOOKS UP AND TO HER OWN RIGHT, AND DHULYN SEES THAT THE SCHOLAR GUNDARON STANDS NEXT TO HER, AND HE ALSO IS LOOKING INTO THE BOWL. AND SHAKING HIS HEAD. HIS HAND GRIPS MAR’S SHOULDER MORE TIGHTLY, AND THEY BOTH TURN TO LOOK OFF TO THEIR LEFT PAST WHERE DHULYN IS STANDING WATCHING THEM. THEY DO NOT SEE HER. WHEN DHULYN TURNS TO SEE WHAT THEY ARE LOOKING AT, SHE SEES…

A GREAT THRONE IN A ROOM VAST WITH DARKNESS. NOISE AND MOVEMENT AROUND HER, BUT MADE OF SHADOWS ONLY, NOT OF THIS TIME. THE ONE-EYED MAN SITS ON THE THRONE OF TIME-DARKENED WOOD AND DULL RED GEMS, LOOKING AT HER WITH TWO GREEN EYES. DHULYN PLUNGES HER SWORD INTO HIS HEART. THE FINE TELISCAN BLADE PASSES CLEANLY THROUGH HIS BODY AND PINS HIM TO THE THRONE AND HE CANNOT MOVE. THE BLOOD SOAKS INTO THE WOOD, AND WILL NEVER COME OUT. HIS EYES ARE GREEN. HIS EYE IS BLUE. SUDDENLY IT IS NOT LOK-IKOL SITTING ON THE CARNELIAN THRONE, BUT TEK-AKET, AND YET SHE IS STILL THERE, SWORD IN HAND. ARE HIS HANDS BOUND? THE TARKIN LOOKS AWAY OVER HER SHOULDER, HIS EYES FOCUSED FOR THE LONG DISTANCE, AND WHEN SHE TURNS TO LOOK, SHE SEES…

A GRAY DAY, A COLD GRANITE CLIFF, CRAGGY AND HIGH ENOUGH TO HAVE SNOW THOUGH THERE IS NONE TO BE SEEN. A MAN WITH A FACE TATTOOED BLUE WITH FEATHERS FALLS, PLUMMETING STRAIGHT AND TRUE AS A STONE FALLS, AND SO SHE KNOWS HE IS ALREADY DEAD. A BIRD FALLS WITH HIM, BLUE-TIPPED WINGS HELD TIGHT AGAINST ITS BODY, AND DHULYN KNOWS THAT THE BIRD HAS TIME-MORE THAN ENOUGH-TO SPREAD ITS WINGS AND SAVE ITSELF,

BUT SHE KNOWS THAT IT WILL NOT, THAT THOUGH ITS HEART BEATS AND ITS EYES ARE CLEAR, IT, TOO, IS ALREADY DEAD.

Dhulyn sighed and tried to turn over, opened her eyes when she found the weight of bedcoverings impeding her. Mountain wool blankets, from the weight, and the sharp smell. She snaked one hand free and felt it caught by Parno’s, larger, rougher, but as familiar to her as her own.

“Have I been asleep long?”

“A few hours. Is the pain better, or worse?”

“Better, I think.”

Parno turned her hand over and kissed the palm. She pushed herself up on one elbow, and, using her grip on Parno’s hand for leverage, managed to roll onto her side so she was still lying under the covers, but able to see her Partner without twisting her neck.

“Anything?”

“More discussion, but they’re agreed. Dal will meet you at Yerloa’s Spring at the hour the moon sets tomorrow night. That will bring you to the north gates of the city just as they open, and we’ll meet inside the Dome just as the morning watch is settling in and getting complacent.”

“What of the Tarkina?”

“She’ll stay here where it’s safer. Mar and that Scholar boy as well.” He took the hand he still held, and bumped it softly against his lips before adding, “Well-watched, as you advise, but I still say you should let me kill the twisted little book reader.”

Dhulyn sighed. “It is the purpose of Scholars to learn, and this one has learned something of the world that his Library neglected to show him. Let him live with that knowledge, and with the knowledge of the evil he is capable of. And let us not forget, we may yet learn something from him ourselves.”

Parno shrugged, though his own smile did not touch his eyes. “It’s your decision, I suppose. Let me know if you change your mind, though. I’d be happy to kill the little dung eater later.”

Dhulyn tugged his hand. “I’ve Seen Gun helping Mar. They were both looking into that bowl of hers.”

Parno sat back, releasing her hand and placing his own on his thighs. “They’ve been wondering, the Tarkin especially, whether you’ve Seen anything. I don’t think they’re going to care much about Mar and her bowl.”

“Daresay you’re right.” Dhulyn began pushing back the blankets that covered her. “I saw Lok-iKol again, and I killed him again. Sometimes he had two eyes, sometimes one.”

“But you still See his death, so that’s to the good. Nothing we’ve done so far changes that?”

“Evidently.”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“I Saw Tek-aKet on the Carnelian Throne.”

“So why don’t you look happy about it?”

She shrugged as best she could lying propped up on one elbow. “I was standing next to him with my sword out.”

Parno nodded his understanding. “Armed in the presence of the Tarkin is one thing, but weapons out in the throne room? That’s not likely.”

“Exactly what I thought. The throne room might have been just an overlap from the image of Lok-iKol, but…”

“You don’t know for certain.”

“I don’t know for certain.”

When she looked into Parno’s eyes, she saw there the same knowledge he would see on her face. She couldn’t know for certain. She never had, and this is what the loss of her tribe really meant-not just her mother and father, but the loss of all and any who might have taught her to School her Visions, to read them properly, even to guide them. That had always been the drawback, the flaw, to using her Sight. But with so much, and so many, relying on her now, what else could she do?

“I need to know more about how the Sight works,” she said. “I can’t go on hiding from it.” She looked up at him. “That’s the lesson the Scholar has taught me.”

“When this is over, we’ll go looking for some answers.”

“It seems the Scholar might have answers.”

“You just don’t want me to kill him.” Parno’s swift grin faded just as swiftly. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”

She nodded, lower lip caught between her teeth. “The Green Shadow fears the Marked, for reasons unknown to us. It follows that the Shadow has knowledge of the Marked, also unknown to us. In killing it, might I be destroying the source of the very information I seek?”