"It's wonderful," Carina said, her eyes brimming with tears.

"It's got everything you need," Jonmarc's eyes glinted wickedly. "Although there's room enough for two in my quarters."

"M'lady. May I be of service?" The voice startled Carina and she turned.

"This is Lisette." Tall and red haired, Lisette looked like a young woman in her early twenties, but the vayash morn's eyes told of lifetimes. "Lisette is your lady's maid, guide, and general companion to keep you out of trouble when I'm out on the lands."

"I'll be very glad for your help."

"We're so pleased to have a Lady of the manor once again," Lisette said. "It's been far too long. If you need me, ring the bell. I'll hear. Just remember—not in daylight!"

Lisette left them alone, and Jonmarc folded Carina into his arms. "So what do you think?"

Carina smiled and laid her head against his chest. "I think it's beautiful. And I think Dark Haven is amazing. Especially its lord."

Jonmarc kissed her, and Carina returned it with equal fervor. "It's good to be home."

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Early the next morning, Jonmarc and Carina rode out from the manor house. The rolling hills were covered with snow under an overcast sky. Wind rustled through the bare trees. "Over there," Jonmarc said, pointing to the far left, "you can see the vineyards. Not too long ago, their wines were the pride of Principality. Nidar and I want to make that true again. Down there's the town of Dark Haven. Mortals and vayash morn live and work together here—and they intermarry. More than a few ghosts around, too. If Tris ever makes it back this way, he'll have a crowd waiting."

Carina's horse snuffled in the cold. She tucked her cloak closer around herself, shielding her face from the wind. "That's going to take some getting used to," she confessed.

"Vayash moru feel different to a healer. They're not alive and they're not dead. They're—empty."

"I've had a few months to get used to it myself. Most of the time I don't think about being food."

"There was something odd last night, when I healed Eiria's hands. Even being vyrkin, her life force didn't feel right."

"Eiria doesn't have much time left. Riqua told me that Shifters eventually get stuck in their other form. When that happens, they die or go mad. Eiria's starting to lose control" over when she shifts. Yestin doesn't say anything, but you can see it in his eyes when he looks at her. They've been together a long time. The problem with the Flow makes it worse."

Carina turned to him. "I'm surprised to hear you talk about the Flow. I thought that was just the Sisterhood."

"Yeah, well I was ready to leave it to the witch biddies until I started living on top of it. I can't feel it—at least, not like you or Tris can—but from what everyone says, even the non-magic users get affected after a while. It runs right beneath Dark Haven—that's how the last lord was killed, when Arontala stole that damned Soulcatcher orb. He warped the Flow, and since then, nothing's been quite the same, not the land, nor the livestock, nor the crops."

"I felt something odd last night, but I was so tired, I figured it was the long ride."

"That's one reason why our rooms are on the top floor, in the far wing. Gabriel and I thought it was a good idea to keep both of us as far away from it as possible."

Jonmarc smiled. "Maynard Linton stopped by just before Gabriel and I headed for Mar-golan. I told him about what we're trying to do, and I took him down to the village to see the crafts people. Potters, glass blowers, and some of the best weavers outside of Noor. Not to mention the vayash moru goldsmiths and sword smiths. I haven't seen Linton that excited in a long time. Seems he's been itching to get back on the caravan trail now that Jared's gone. Plans to keep his ties to the river as well. So he put in a big order and he'll be back at the thaw to pick it up. Wants to trade it on the main caravan route plus down the Nu to Jolie's Place. That alone will go a long way toward putting some gold in the townspeople's pockets. Enough for them to rebuild their herds and make some improvements." "I knew you weren't the average mercenary." "I used to watch my father do his accounts every month. He ran a very successful forge, and mother's weaving brought customers from all over the Borderlands. If accounts were good at month's end, we roasted a goat or a lamb. If things were tight, all we got was chicken. We had four boys in the family—we did everything we could to make it a goat month." He looked out over the windswept hills. Snow glistened in the air; the winds dusted it up until it shone in the cold winter sun.

"I think they'd approve, if they could see Dark Haven," he said wistfully. "My mother and father. Been a lot of years that I hoped the dead couldn't see me. After being around Tris, I know they could. But now, maybe I've started to make up for all that."

Carina reached out to take his gloved hand. "You're the one who told me that the dead forgive us."

"I know. But it's harder to believe when there's more to be forgiven. Let's get back before we freeze. I still haven't shown you everything in the dependencies."

Jonmarc took her through the stables and the forge, the granary and the wine cellar. While Dark Haven was not as large as many of the noble houses Carina had visited, it was solid and compact, and she had no doubt that it would quickly be as self-sustaining as Jonmarc hoped.

"Here's where Arontala destroyed the old foundation," Jonmarc said, pointing to a jumble of rocks behind the west wing of the building. "Gabriel says that underneath there's a vault—the chamber is still standing—and the Flow runs through the chamber. No one goes down there—it's dangerous since the Flow was damaged. Gabriel says it surges and wanes for no reason. Goddess knows I've got no magic, but when I stand here, I could swear I feel something—like the crackle in the air when lightning's near."

"You do." Carina closed her eyes and extended her healer's senses. While she had power of a different sort than Tris, she had long ago become attuned to the working of magic. The vast river of power that flowed beneath their feet was the most powerful energy she'd ever sensed. "I agree—I wouldn't want to go any closer. I can almost hear a buzzing, like a big nest of bees. Let's go back to the great room—surely it's time to eat by now."

When Carina and Jonmarc entered the courtyard, there was a large group lined up outside the manor. "What's going on?" Jonmarc asked a stable hand.

"Beggin' your pardon, m'lord, but it's the line to see Lady Carina. Word's gotten out to the village that there's a healer here—and a fine one, too. They've started lining up since this morning."

"She's only just arrived," Jonmarc protested, but Carina touched his hand.

"It's all right. If they're willing to come out in this weather, they must need a healer pretty badly. I'll get my things. Is there somewhere— maybe in the granary—where I can treat them? Somewhere we can get them out of the wind?"

Jonmarc leaned down to kiss her. "I'll have the kitchen send down your lunch. I've got some work to do before this evening myself.

Only finish up by sixth bells—you're the guest of honor tonight, and the Blood Council is coming."

By the time the tower tolled fifth bells, Carina had seen dozens of villagers with complaints from ague to badly-healed bones, and the usual bouts of flux and worms. Carina did not doubt that the vyrkin would come soon. She climbed the stairs, to her new rooms wearily, dusting off her hands on her robe. Carina was surprised, and pleased to find Lisette waiting for her, with a hot kettle o'f tea and a small plate of cakes.