Page 82 of All the Wandering Light

We walked on in stormy silence.

“I suppose I should have told you what I was planning,” he said, in an odd tone that was half-exasperated and half-rueful. “That wasn’t—I didn’t enjoy lying to you.”

I stared at him. It wasn’t an apology, but it was the closest I’d ever heard him come to one.

“If you had told me, I would have tried to stop you,” I said slowly.

“I know.”

Another silence. “It wasn’t just me you lied to,” I said. “What about Mara? Norbu? I’m sure there are dozens more.”

“They don’t matter,” he said, again in that vaguely puzzled tone, as if it was so obvious he didn’t know why I was asking.

I couldn’t think of anything to say to that.

After a moment, River said, “Tem seemed surprised by his new abilities. Though he didn’t seem particularly inclined to thank me.”

“I think Tem was happy the way he was.”

River’s gaze was thoughtful. “He’s unusual. Witches can’t use shamanic talismans. Most talismans are imbued with our own magic, and the binding spell prevented us from using our powers in any form. I always thought it was strange, but it must be his human blood. He has a foot in both worlds.”

I stopped midstep. River turned to look at me.

“You knew,” I breathed. “You knew all along about Tem.”

The amusement returned to his eyes. “I wasn’t certain until our encounter with the fiangul. I know many revered shamans, and not one of them could do what he did in that pass. That sort of affinity with magic is not a human trait.” Then, he mused, “I wonder who his mother was.”

The world’s strange new pattern seemed to come into clearer focus. I thought of all the things Tem was capable of—how he could master a spell as easily as breathing, as easily as Chirri, if not more.

We had come to a stop in a space that was neither inside nor outside, a turn in the wide hallway that was open to the gray sky and the green slope of the palace hill. Grasses stirred in the wind beyond a little balcony, and I could make out the marks of a trail disappearing over the brow of the land. The sun broke through the clouds, and its light fell on us.

“It used to be more common,” River said. “Centuries ago, there were many humans with witch ancestry. It’s still true that the stronger shamans have some connection to us.”

The sunlight was on River’s face, illuminating the strands of copper in his hair. For the first time, I noticed a subtle similarity between him and Tem—it was not their appearance, but something in the way they held themselves, a lightness or unconscious poise. “Will he be all right?” I said.

“I would think so. If he can work out where he fits.”

I gazed at him. Someone was approaching from the other end of the hall with a purposeful stride, but I didn’t look up. The man was making an unnecessary amount of noise, his arms slicing back and forth so that the fabric of his chuba made an aggressive rustling sound, his boots thudding against the tiled floor. River seemed about to speak again, and was waiting until the passerby was out of earshot. But instead of turning the corner and continuing on his way, the man came to a stop when he reached us.

“Kamzin,” he said, looming beyond River’s shoulder, “what in the name of the spirits are you doing here?”

It was Mara.

Twenty-Six

MARA WAS WORN and travel-stained, his face shadowed by an unkempt beard. He had, evidently, only just arrived in the Three Cities, not even pausing to change out of his traveling clothes. He didn’t glance at River, whose back was to him, but stared at me as if he’d seen a ghost.

“Where’s Lusha?” he demanded. “I came with utmost haste through the Aryas to warn the emperor of the witches’ plot, assuming all the while that you were still in the north, searching for the star. How is it that you came to be here?”

“It’s a long story,” I said hesitantly. River had taken a step back and leaned casually against the wall, a glint of amusement in his eye that I didn’t trust.

“Is Lusha all right?” Mara pressed.

“She’s fine.” And, though he hadn’t asked, “Tem too.”

Mara ran a hand over his face. “And the star?”

“Oh, you’re not going to ask about me?” River said. “After all our years together.”