The Garden of Stones - By Mark T. Barnes Page 0,133

again to have me stopped.”

“Please—”

“It has been centuries since I visited the Sky Realm of the Din-ma. Among the floating islands carried on the Soulwinds of the equator is a home I have a longing to see. My mate waits for me there, as do my other daughters and sons. It is well past time I showed them the honor they deserve. Your obligation to me is done, my friend. Trust yourself to seek your own path. We may meet again one day, under happier skies.”

“I’m sorry about Anj-el-din. If I could change—”

“We are both sorry for what became of my daughter. Yet what is, is. Best you forget her, Amonindris, for there is no returning from what she…Forgive yourself, Amonindris, as I have never had the need to. You have done nothing wrong to me or mine. Be well.”

“And you.”

With that Far-ad-din rose from his chair and went inside his tent.

Indris closed his eyes and blanked his mind to sever the connection with Far-ad-din. He snapped back into his consciousness with a sickening lurch.

Indris opened his eyes to see Shar, leaning against the mirror with studied nonchalance. Indris was so exhausted he needed both hands to prize himself from the chair. Shar supported him, his weight seemingly no real challenge to her wiry strength.

“Will he come back?” Shar asked as they walked back to the others.

He shook his head. “I don’t blame him. I’d probably do the same.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

Indris bowed his head with fatigue. His felt like his skull was filled to bursting. Even with his eyes closed, he could still see the image of himself in the mirror.

Shar’s eyes narrowed with concern. “Are you well?”

“The Sēq teach many things. They taught me how to laugh. They taught me the value of love. Of anger. Of compassion and passion. They taught me terror, how to use it, how to survive it, how to embrace it and make it part of me. Yet there was a maxim I didn’t truly understand until now.”

“Which is?”

“‘Let there be no place a Sēq will fear to tread.’” His smile felt brittle. “It’s a metaphor I didn’t fully comprehend until I looked at the paths of my own soul. While it is a place I don’t exactly fear to tread, it is a place I often wish could be other than it is.”

They made themselves as comfortable as they could. Throughout the night, parties of Fenlings prowled past the villa where it was hidden behind its Discretion Charm. Once in a while, one of them would look in their direction, sniff the air, before being nudged by one of its brethren to move on.

It was slightly before dawn when Hayden roused Indris and the others. The companions carefully trod the old, half-obscured streets that led to the ancient city. Pale yellow-brown stones soon gave way to evenly set gray and white. The stones about them went from granite blocks to the smooth black octagonal stones typical of the Time Masters. From time to time they would pause to listen or to allow either a Fenling or Avān squad to march past. As the light of morning pooled on the eastern horizon amid a clutter of lazy, yellow-tinted cloud, they found themselves in sight of Fiandahariat.

Ekko sidled forward as the others crouched behind a high stone wall. An Avān patrol seemed to expect to see nothing, so they talked more loudly than prudence would have dictated. For Indris and his friends, it had given them time to find a place to hide until the patrol could meander by. The giant Tau-se’s face bore its usual enigmatic expression, though his whiskers twitched in agitation.

“We are being followed, Amonindris,” Ekko rumbled softly.

“By?”

“I know not,” Ekko said, troubled. “They have masked their scent and move on quiet feet around us.”

Shar frowned as she looked in the direction they had come. “Ekko’s right. We’ve company coming. A lot of it. Armored, too. And close by.”

They had no friends in the Rōmarq. Hayden started to grumble as he spun the cylinder of his storm-rifle. He silently worked the lever, made sure the canister in the stock was filled with air. There were less than a score of bolts left. The others drew their weapons. Changeling sighed with relief.

The four of them found places among the gardenias where they could fight with their backs to the wall. They waited, breaths shallow, as the muscles bunched under their skin.

Clouds parted before the sun, a curtain opening to shine light on the