She stopped struggling, and immediately he eased the pressure on her mouth, helped her to sit.

“No need to wake the whole camp,” he said easily.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He picked up her boots and held them out. “It’s the girl. I need you to come with me.”

“Jelindra?” Instantly, she was wide awake. She took the boots and pulled them on. “What’s happened?”

“Nothing. She’s just-wandered away from camp, and she’s frightened. Come with me.”

Khallayne stood quickly and grabbed her jacket.

“That way.”

As Khallayne started to move, Lyrralt stirred and sat up. His bedroll was only a few feet away. “Jyrbian?”

Jyrbian put a finger to his lips and shushed Lyrralt.

“Jyrbian, what’s wrong? Where’s Khallayne going?”

Jyrbian gave him a look such as Lyrralt had not seen since Takar, one eyebrow raised high, self-deprecating charm twisting his mouth. “It’s none of your affair, Brother, if you know what I mean. Go back to sleep.”

Jyrbian picked up Khallayne’s saddlebags and eased away into the darkness. Khallayne was almost to where he’d left Kaede and Jelindra when he caught up with her.

Kaede and Jelindra were mounted. Kaede was holding the reins to the other horses. The girl appeared even more docile, even more remote, than before.

“What’s going on here?” Khallayne wheeled on him.

“We’re leaving,” he said. “Mount up.”

Kaede tossed him his reins, her expression murderous.

“I’m not going anywhere with you, Jyrbian,” said Khallayne.

“We don’t need her,” Kaede jeered.

Jyrbian responded to Khallayne as if Kaede hadn’t even spoken. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. But if you don’t, you’ll find her body”-he paused and jerked his thumb in the direction of Jelindra-”left to rot on our trail.”

“Why are you doing this? What’s happened?”

“It’s your choice,” he said conversationally. “Her only use to me is as a hostage, to keep you in line. If you’re not with me… And before you think of casting a spell, are you willing to bet you could take care of both of us before one of us kills her?”

When Khallayne still didn’t move, he turned his horse and started to ride away. Kaede followed him, leading Jelindra’s horse.

“I wouldn’t do that, Jyrbian.” Lyrralt’s voice came out of the darkness.

Jyrbian spun, his hand moving to his sword, and found himself facing off against his brother and Bakrell.

“Why not?” Jyrbian asked softly. He dropped his hand from his sword hilt, with his palm open and ready, dangling at his side.

“They’ve found Everlyn.”

Jyrbian started at the name. Quickly, he regained his composure. Beyond them, in the lights nearest the tent, he could see agitated movement.

“What’s happened to Everlyn?” Khallayne asked.

“She’s dead. From the bruises and marks on her body, strangled.”

“Jyrbian?” Khallayne stepped forward.

He was reminded of Everlyn, stepping between him and the human at Nerat. The memory seemed etched in blood.

“What happened?” Khallayne asked. Hers was a voice of reason, of conciliation.

“Everlyn was seeing a human male, at night, outside the camp.” Kaede also edged forward, her voice brisk, cold.

“Seeing a human?” Lyrralt didn’t understand.

“He was her lover.” Kaede spat the word as if it were filth.

The others responded with shocked silence.

Before they could react, Jyrbian surged forward and grabbed Khallayne. He yanked her by the back of her tunic, up and over his saddle. Before she could recover her senses, he thumped her across the back of her head and she went limp.

Lyrralt started forward, stopping when Jyrbian reached with one hand for his sword. His horse danced, agitated by the extra weight and the tension around him. “Go back, Brother. Go back to your miserable friends. Don’t follow us. Don’t-”

“Jyrbian, don’t do this.” Igraine’s voice, choked with grief, interrupted the scene. “There’s been enough damage. Don’t do anything more.”

“You’re responsible for this!” Jyrbian retorted, eyeing the silent crowd amassing behind Igraine. “You! Preaching of better ways. But there is only so much we can change while still giving honor to the gods. Still honor our traditions. If you continue this way, the vengeance of the gods will rain upon your heads!”

He glanced at Kaede, the only person in the whole camp who sided with him willingly, and jerked his head in the direction of the mountains. He galloped away, Khallayne hanging limply on his horse.

Kaede started to follow, then stopped and turned back for a moment, yanking on the reins of Jelindra’s horse to control the animal. The child sat astride, much more docile than the horse.

“Bakrell?”

Caught by surprise, Bakrell opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again.

“You’re not going to stay here? There’s no reason anymore. We have what we came for.”

She waited, but Bakrell refused to meet her gaze. “No,” he said at last.

“You’re staying?” Kaede was incredulous, but when he didn’t speak to her again, she yanked her horse around and galloped after Jyrbian, leading Khallayne’s riderless stallion and the horse on which Jelindra rode.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The sound of the four horses, galloping tbrough the dry grass, pounding the earth, sounded across the plain for a long time.

“We have to go after them!”

Tenaj was in favor of pursuit. Several others standing nearby rumbled agreement.

Lyrralt shook his head. “If you chase them in the darkness, they’ll kill their hostages for sure. Or you. It would be easy to set an ambush.”

Tenaj’s hand dropped from its customary set on the pommel of her sword. “Why did they take Khal-layne and Jelindra?”

“I don’t know.”

Igraine, shoulders drooping, turned slowly back toward camp, but Bakrell blocked his way.

“Lord, please.” Bakrell fell to his knees before the older Ogre, hung his head in shame. “I must confess what I’ve done. I must tell you all that I know.”

Those who had been drifting back toward camp stopped. Lyrralt and Tenaj moved in closer. Igraine put a hand on Bakrell’s shoulder and nodded.

Bakrell swallowed. He began with his gaze fastened on the ground at Igraine’s feet. “My sister and I are of the last of the Tallees Clan, the clan of the Keeper of the History of the Ogre.”

Lyrralt gasped.

“My sister and I joined you partly because she thought someone here knew about what happened to the History.”

“I don’t understand,” Igraine said solemnly. “I thought the Keeper died a natural death.”

“That is what the council allowed everyone to believe. But Kaede believes there was a conspiracy. And she believes the Song is still alive. For our family, the Song has its own special… music. She hears it, still.”

Bakrell paused, cocking his head as if he, too, were listening to something far off. “I haven’t her abilities, but I must say, I agree with her. I think, if the Song were truly gone, there would be a… silence.”

“Go on,” Igraine prompted when Bakrell lapsed into silence.

“The Song drew Kaede here, to someone among us. But she wasn’t sure who. Two nights ago, she told me she thought Jyrbian was the culprit.”

“So you came here to find the Song,” Tenaj said coldly. “Is that all?”

“No. We also came…” He mumbled something.

“What?”

Igraine put his hand on Bakrell’s chin, tipping it back so he could see his face. “Don’t be afraid. No one is going to hurt you now. What is the other reason you joined us?”

Bakrell squared his shoulders. “We came on behalf of the Ruling Council.”

A gasp went up from the crowd, and there was a surge forward, but Igraine controlled everybody with a wave of his hand. “Continue.”