as she shivered. "Let's not let it go to waste. Get us out of this storm, and we'll be even."
He nodded and peered around. Lightning showed him the strip of the causeway, a dark, straight line, and Tavi took his bearings from it. Then he turned his back on the looming shape of Garados and started off into the darkness, fervently hoping that he could find the shelter before the wind-manes recovered their courage and renewed their attack.
Chapter 9
Isana woke to the sound of feet pounding up the stairs to her room. The day had passed and night had fallen while she slept, and she could hear the anxious rattle of rain and sleet on the roof. She sat up, though it made her head pound to do it.
"Mistress Isana," gasped a breathless Beritte. She tripped in the darkness at the top of the stairs and stumbled to the floor with a gasp and an unladylike curse.
"Lamp," Isana mumbled, forcing out a familiar effort of will. The spark imp in the lamp flickered to life on its wick, giving the room a low golden glow. She pressed the heels of her hands to her temples, trying to sort out her rushing thoughts. Rain pounded, and she heard the wind gust into an angry howl. Lightning flickered outside, followed swiftly by an odd, bellowing thunder.
"The storm," Isana breathed. "It doesn't sound right."
Beritte gathered herself to her feet and bobbed in a hasty curtsey. Holly-bells, the scarlet flowers just beginning to wilt, dropped petals to the floor. "It's horrible, mistress, horrible. Everyone's afraid. And the Steadholder. The Steadholder is here, and he's badly hurt. Mistress Bitte sent me to fetch you."
Isana jerked in a sharp breath. "Bernard." She pushed herself out of bed, rising to her feet. Her head throbbed with pain as she rose, and she had to rest a hand against the wall to keep herself from falling. Isana took a deep breath, trying to still herself against the rising panic inside her, to steel herself against the pain. Dimly, now, she could feel the fear and anger and anxiety of the rest of the people in the steadholt, rising up from the hall below. They would need strength and leadership now, more than ever.
"All right," she said, opening her eyes and forcing her features to smooth out. "Take me to him."
Beritte rushed out of Isana's room, and the woman followed her with short, determined steps. As she stepped out into the hallway, the anxious fear flowing up from the room below began to press more firmly against her, almost like a cold, damp cloth that clung to her skin and began to seep inside her. She shivered, and at the top of the stairs paused for a moment, forcing the cold sensation away from her thoughts, until it no longer pressed so tightly against her. The fear would not simply go away, she knew, but for the moment it was enough that she distance herself from it, make herself functional again.
Isana then walked down the stairs, into Bernardholt's great hall. The room was fully a hundred feet long, half as wide, and made entirely of bedrock granite long ago raised from the earth. The living quarters above had been added on, wood beam and brick construction, but the hall itself was a single shaped piece of stone, wrought by long and exhausting hours of furycrafting from the bones of the earth. Storms, no matter how fierce, could not damage the great hall or anyone sheltered within it or the only other such building in the steadholt-the barn where precious livestock lived.
The hall was crowded with folk. All of the steadholt's residents were there, representing several large families. Most were gathered around one of the several trestle tables that had been set out earlier in the evening, and the food that had been in preparation since before dawn had been taken to the tables and laid out upon them. The mood of the room was anxious-even
the children, who normally would have been screeching and playing games of chase as the storm gave them a virtual holiday, seemed subdued and quiet. The loudest voices in the hall were tense murmurs, and every time the thunder roared outside, folk would fall silent, looking toward the doors of the hall.
The hall was divided. Fires burned in the hearths at either end. At the far fire, the Steadholders had gathered at a small table. Beritte was leading her toward the other, where Bernard was