Part 14 (2/2)

The priestess turned her head to the side, considering.

”The creature that sleeps in the gla.s.s desert,” Aralorn clarified further.

”Ah,” said the priestess. ”Yes . . . I had forgotten that name ...”

”Has it awakened?”

The priestess hesitated. ”I would not know of it, unless it killed-and that was not its way. It incited others to do its killing.”

Falhart spoke for the first time. ”Do you know anything about the farm that was burned to the ground?”

”Yes. Death visited there and was caught to pay the price of the Lyon's sleep.”

”You mean,” said Gerem, with a tension that was strong enough to attract Aralorn's interest, ”something was killed there. That death was used in the magic that ensorcelled my father.”

The priestess nodded. ”As I said.”

”Is Geoffrey ae'Magi dead, or does his spirit attend the living?” asked Aralorn.

”He is dead,” said Tilda. ”But in the way of such men, much of him lives on in the hearts of those who loved him.”

She swayed alarmingly. Disregarding his wariness for the G.o.ddess in concern for the woman, Correy jumped up the short flight of stairs and wrapped an arm around her waist.

”Here, now,” he said, helping her sit on the floor.

”Did you get the answers you needed?” she asked. ”She left without warning me. Usually, I can tell when She's ready to leave, and I can give notice of the last question. Otherwise, you are left with the most important thing unanswered.”

”It was fine,” said Aralorn thoughtfully. She would rather have had a simple yes or no to her last question, but she hadn't really expected as much help as they'd gotten. Usually priests and priestesses were much less forthcoming and a lot more obscure when they did tell you something.

”Aralorn”-Tilda got to her feet and shook out her robes briskly, obviously putting off whatever weakness the G.o.ddess's visit had left her with-”I wonder if you would mind speaking with me in private for a bit.”

Since Aralorn had been debating how to phrase the same request, she nodded immediately. ”Of course.” Last night she'd thought of another thing that Ridane could help her with.

Tilda walked down the stairs and, with a shooing motion, said, ”Go along now and wait for us in the cottage. There are some fresh scones on the table, help yourselves.”

Aralorn's brothers left without a protest. As he turned to close the door behind them, Gerem shot a calculating look at Aralorn. When she smiled and waved, he frowned and pulled the door shut with a bang that reverberated in the large, mostly empty room.

”He doesn't trust me,” commented Aralorn, shaking her head.

”With Nevyn around, you're lucky anyone does,” said Tilda in reply.

”For someone who lives several hours from the hold, you know an awful lot about my family.” Aralorn rubbed the itchy place behind Wolf's ears.

The death G.o.ddess's priestess grinned companionably and answered Aralorn's observation. ”My news travels fast-Correy's new horse has a rare turn of speed.”

Aralorn returned her smile. ”You wanted to talk to me about something?”

”Hmm.” Tilda looked down and tapped her foot. ”The G.o.ddess told me to ask you if you would change shape for me.”

Of all the things she could have asked, that was something Aralorn had not expected.

”Why?”

”You are a shapes.h.i.+fter,” Tilda said. ”A few weeks ago, I saw an animal that had no business being in the woods. A shapes.h.i.+fter was the only explanation I could come up with, though, other than the fact that there hasn't been a report of a howlaa around here for generations, the animal didn't seem unnatural. I asked Ridane if I'd be able to tell the difference between a shapes.h.i.+fter and a natural animal; She told me to ask you.” The priestess smiled. ”Since you hadn't been here in a long time, I did wonder. When you came here today, She reminded me again to ask you.”

”There was a howlaa,” said Aralorn. ”It was killed yesterday, not far from the keep. But I don't see any reason to refuse to change in front of you: a favor for a favor.”

”What is it you need of me?” asked Tilda warily.

Aralorn threaded her fingers through the hair on Wolf's neck and cleared her throat. ”I have this friend who needs to get married.”

Tilda's jaw dropped for a moment. ”No one's ever asked me that before.”

Not surprising, thought Aralorn. There hadn't been a priestess of Ridane here for generations, and even when there had been, few people chose to be married in Her temple. Marriage bonds set by the G.o.ddess of death had odd consequences: Two people so bound could not live if one died.

Aralorn was counting on three things: that no one would see the marriage lines written in Tilda's recording book and use them to trace Cain ae'Magison to Aralorn and her wolf; that Wolf and his unbalanced education wouldn't know about the quirk of Ridane's marriages; and that, afterward, when she told him, he'd want her life more than his own death.

”You can perform a marriage ceremony?” Aralorn asked.

”Yes,” Tilda said slowly. ”I know the rites.”

Aralorn inclined her head formally. ”Thank you.”

She turned to Wolf, who had been staring at her incredulously since she'd begun speaking.

”Well?” she said.

He glanced at Tilda for a moment, then swung his yellow gaze back to Aralorn.

Evidently deciding that Aralorn had already spoiled any chance to maintain his secrecy, he asked, ”Why?”

Because I don't want to lose you, she thought. That sounded right to her, so she said, ”Because I don't want to lose you, not ever. I love you.” she thought. That sounded right to her, so she said, ”Because I don't want to lose you, not ever. I love you.”

Her declaration seemed to mean something to him though he'd heard it before. He stood so still that she could barely see him breathe.

”It is too dangerous,” he said finally. ”Someone will see the records.”

His voice was so sterile she could read nothing from it. A good sign, she thought. If he'd known what the marriage would mean, he'd have refused her outright. ”Too dangerous” was no refusal, and he knew her too well to think that it was.

”Who would ask a temple of the death G.o.ddess for a record of marriage lines?” asked Aralorn reasonably. ”And an avatar of a G.o.ddess surely won't be caught up in the residue of your father's spells.” She turned to Tilda, who was watching them with some fascination. ”Would you agree to keep this marriage secret?”

Slowly, she nodded. ”Barring that it violates any request of Ridane, yes.”

”I know you, Aralorn,” Wolf said in a low growl. ”You do not fight in the regular forces because you don't like the ties that bind such folk to each other. You work alone, and prefer it. You have many people who like you and some people you like, but no one who is truly a friend. You protect yourself with a s.h.i.+eld of friendliness and humor.”

”I have friends,” she said, taken aback by his a.s.sessment; it had come from nowhere-and she thought he was wrong. She wasn't the loner; he was.

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