laid. Between them, the holdfolk had gathered in separate groups, close together, with blankets laid by for sleeping on, should the storm last through the night. The talk was subdued- perhaps due to the confrontation earlier that day, Isana thought, and no one seemed to want to be too near either of the fireplaces.
Isana strode past Beritte and toward the nearer fire. Old Bitte, the steadholt's furycraft teacher, was crouched down beside where they had laid Bernard out on a pallet near the fire. She was an ancient, frail woman, whose long white braid hung to the small of her back. Her hands shook as a matter of course, and she couldn't walk far, but she was still confident, her eyes and her spirit undimmed by the years.
Bernard's face had the stark pallor of a corpse, and for a moment Isana felt her throat tighten with terror. But then his chest rose and fell in a slow, ragged breath, and she closed her eyes, steadying herself again. He was thickly covered with blankets of soft wool, except for his right leg, which was smeared with blood, pale, and uncovered. Bandages, also soaked in blood, had been wound around his thigh, but Isana could see that they would need changing shortly.
"Isana," Old Bitte croaked, her voice gently ragged with the roughness of her years. "I've done all I can for him, child. Needle and thread can only do so much."
"What happened?" Isana asked.
"We don't know," Bitte said, sitting back. "He has a terrible wound on his thigh. Perhaps a beast, though it could be a wound from an axe or a blade. It looks like he managed to put a tourniquet on it and to let it out once or twice. We may be able to save the leg-but he lost so much blood. He's unconscious, and I don't know if he'll wake up again."
"A bath," Isana said. "We need to draw him a bath."
Bitte nodded. "I've sent for one, and it should be here in a few moments."
Isana nodded, once. "And get Tavi over here. I want to hear what happened to my brother.'
Bitte looked up at Isana, dark and keen eyes sad. "Tavi didn't come home with him, child."
"What?" Fear flooded her, swift and chill and horrible. She had to fight to push it aside, covering the effort by pulling tendrils that had escaped her braid back from her face. Calm. She was a leader in this steadholt. She had to appear calm, controlled. "Didn't come home with him?"
"No. He's not here."
"We've got to find him," Isana said. "This is a furystorm. He'll be defenseless."
"Only that poor idiot Fade would go out into the storm at all, child," Bitte said in an even tone. "He went out to make sure the barn doors were sealed and was the one who found Bernard. The furies watch over fools and children, they say. Perhaps they will help Tavi as well." She leaned forward and said, lower, "Because no one here can do anything about it."
"No," Isana insisted. "We have to find him."
Several of the men of the steadholt struggled down the stairs, carrying the big copper bathtub. They set it down on the floor nearby and then began, with the help of some of the children, to relay buckets of water to the tub from the spigot on the wall.
"Isana," Bitte said, her voice frank, almost cold, "you're exhausted. You're the only one I know who has a chance of bringing Bernard back, but I doubt you'll be able to do even that, much less find Tavi in this weather."
"It doesn't matter," Isana said. "The boy is my responsibility."
Old Bitte's hand, warm and surprisingly strong, gripped her wrist. "The boy is out there in that storm. He's found shelter by now, Isana. Or he's dead. You must focus on what you do now-or Bernard will be dead as well."
The fear, the anxiety pressed closer, in tune with the terror rising inside of her. Tavi. She shouldn't have let herself become so distracted with the preparations, shouldn't have let Tavi deceive her. He was her responsibility. The image of Tavi, caught in the storm, torn to shreds by the windmanes, flashed to the front of her thoughts, and she let out a quiet sound of frustration, helplessness.
She opened her eyes to find her hands shaking. Isana looked at Bitte and said, "I'll need help."
Old Bitte nodded, but her expression was nervous... "I've spoken to the hold women and they'll give you what