Grace wanted to ask her more—how she was supposed to find Travis, what she should tell him when she did, and what they needed to do.

“Go,” the old woman said, her voice a sullen croak. “I wished only to look upon you, and now it is done. I will not see the end of this, but now I know that an end indeed draws nigh. Go, and leave me to my own end.”

Grace met Larad’s eyes, and the two of them stepped from the wagon. They found Sareth standing near the remains of the bonfire.

“She’s dying,” Grace said.

Sareth nodded, his coppery eyes reflecting the glow of the embers. “So she has told us many times. Only this time it is true.”

Grace touched his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be.” Despite the sadness in his voice, he smiled. “Hers has been a long and wondrous life. And perhaps it is better this way. Perhaps it is better if she does not see . . .”

Grace tightened her grip on his shoulder. “We’ll find him, Sareth. We’ll find Travis.”

“I know you will. But there is one thing you do not know. At this time, my sister Vani is on Travis Wilder’s world, on Earth. Even now she searches for him.”

Hope surged in Grace’s chest. She started to ask Sareth how this could be, but Larad sucked in a breath.

“We are not alone.”

Even as he spoke, three dark forms parted from the darkness beneath the ithayatrees. Grace went cold. Had the shadow followed them there, bringing others like it?

No, these shadows moved not with strange fluidity, but rather with feline stealth. Even as they stepped into the starlight, Grace knew what they were. Two of them were men, one a woman. Intricate tattoos coiled up their necks, and each one’s left ear bore thirteen gold rings. All wore sleek black leather.

“ T’gol,” Grace whispered.

Larad gave her a startled look. “You mean assassins?”

“No that’s not what the word means,” Sareth said. “In our tongue, T’golmeans to protect. My al-Mama summoned them from the Silent Fortress of Golgoru. They will accompany you on your journey.”

“Why?” Grace said.

One of the T’golmoved forward. He was tall and slender, his eyes the color of aged bronze. “It is for this that our kind has trained for a thousand years, Sai’ana Grace. Three of us were chosen for this highest honor. We will accompany you on your journey to the dervish, as well as to the ancient city of our people. We are yours to command.”

Three T’gol—three warriors all trained like Vani—following her orders? The thought stunned Grace, even as it renewed her will.

“We leave at dawn,” she said.

“We will be ready.” The T’golmade a sharp gesture with his hand, then he and the others melted away into the shadows.

18.

Grace, Master Larad, and the three T’golleft the circle of the Mournish caravan before dawn. Only Sareth and Lirith rose in the gray light to see them off; the other wagons were dark, their doors and windows shut.

The Mournish man was clearly torn. Last night, he had started to speak as if he was going to accompany Grace on the journey. However, a stern look from Lirith had silenced those words.

“You have already done the work of the T’golonce, when you sought out the dervish,” Lirith murmured, bending over Taneth’s head. “This time the T’golhave come to do what is their rightful task. It is their duty to seek out Morindu the Dark.”

“And what of my duty?” Sareth had said in a low voice, his face bathed in the glow of the fire’s last coals. “I am descended of the royal line of Morindu. Should I not be there when the city comes to light once more?”

Her voice was hard. “If the royal line is truly so precious as you say it is, then it is your duty to protect it and stay with your son.”

Sareth had pressed his lips into a tight line, holding back any other words he might have said. And though his eyes were troubled, they were full of love as well. The Mournish man had won this argument once; now it was Lirith’s turn.

Sareth was not the only one who was upset at not continuing south with Grace. Earlier that morning, after they rose in the dark before first light, she had commanded Brael to ride back to Gravenfist Keep with the other knights. The gray-bearded man was clearly upset.

“The southern continent is a queer and dangerous place, Your Majesty,” he had said, sputtering. “You cannot possibly think to go there alone. We are coming with you.”

“I won’t be alone. And you’re not coming with us. That’s an order, Sir Knight. I need you to tell Melia and Falken that we made it this far safely. And tell them we’ve learned Vani has already gone to find what we seek, to bring it back to us. They’ll know what the message means.”

The anger faded from Brael’s eyes, replaced by anguish. However, a knight could not disobey a direct order from his queen, and he gave a stiff nod. “May Vathris walk with you, Your Majesty.”

Grace hoped he did; she was going to need all the help she could get.

“It is nearly dawn,” spoke one of the T’gol—the tall man who moved like a dancer. His name was Avhir, Grace had learned. “We must leave now, Sai’ana Grace, if we are to reach the city of Kalos before nightfall.”

Already the eastern horizon was brightening, and below the cliffs the Summer Sea shone like a mirror of beaten copper.

Sareth touched Grace’s cheek with a warm, rough hand. “May Fasus, God of Winds, speed you on your journey, and back to us.”

Lirith handed Taneth to him, then moved forward to throw her arms around Grace. I cannot see the future, sister, she said, her voice humming along the threads of the Weirding. I cannot see if you will return to us.

Grace embraced the witch, concentrating on this moment so she would never forget it. Good-bye, sister.

Lirith turned away, brushing her cheeks with her fingers, and took Taneth back, holding the baby tight against her.

Grace mounted Shandis, and as the knights were to take all of the horses with them back to Gravenfist, Larad awkwardly climbed into Glumly’s saddle. The T’golwould go on foot; they did not need mounts to move swiftly.

“Do not trust the dervish,” Sareth said. “You believe you know him, but you do not. The desert changes a man, as do the secrets one might discover there. He has called the morndarito him, he has worked blood sorcery, and he cannot possibly be the same as you knew him.”

Avhir gave Shandis a slap on the rump, and the mare started into a trot down the path that led from the Mournish circle, Larad’s mule following. Grace gazed back over her shoulder, and she thought she saw two dim figures beneath the ithayatrees waving farewell. Then the path began to descend the side of the bluff, and the figures were lost to sight.

“I want to thank you,” she said to Avhir, who walked beside Shandis. “For coming with me.”

He did not look at her. “There is no point in thanking me, Sai’ana Grace. We come because it is our fate.”

Grace smiled. “That doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it all the same.”

Either these words annoyed Avhir, or he did not know what to make of them, for he stalked away without replying and approached the other two T’gol. With some effort Grace had been able to learn their names. Kylees was a fine-boned woman whose lovely face was marred by a persistent scowl, while Rafid was a compact man, as short and muscular as Avhir was tall and lithe.

Avhir spoke something in a low voice to the other T’gol. All three wore grim expressions. Grace sighed. Something told her she was going to have to rely on Master Larad for lively conversation on this trip.

All that day they traveled along the road that followed the sinuous line of the cliffs above the sea. Once the sun rose into the sky, the outlines of the T’golblurred, and they seemed to vanish. However, Grace knew they were still there. From time to time she could see a shimmering on the air, like that of a heat mirage, and if she looked at the ground, she would detect a faint shadow.