The Pearl of the Soul of the World - By Meredith Ann Pierce Page 0,19
simply to watch the army pass, but more than a few to join. The allies had gathered contingents from most of the lands of Westernesse—from Bern and nearby Zambul, from northern Pirs, from far Rani and Elver, even Terrain—by the time they reached Pendar. There a dozen tribes of the desert folk waited, among them, the Ma'ambai. Aeriel fell into their arms with a joyous cry.
"So, little pale one, you have grown so tall that now they are calling you a sorceress," their leader laughed.
"Chieftess, it is not so," Aeriel said, wiping tears from her eyes. Of all people, truly her old friend the desert wanderer ought to know she was no sorceress. Laughing herself now, she embraced the cinnamon-colored woman. "Oh, Orrototo, it is good to see you again."
The army continued to grow. When Irrylath's mother, the Lady Syllva, appointed Sabr to lead the forces of the West, the young queen brought her disparate new troops to heel with a swift, sure hand.
Each directing one wing of the great army, Sabr and her cousin the prince perfectly mirrored one another: both proud, intense, aloof. Aeriel could only admire, even envy, the bandit queen's easy, almost arrogant assumption of command.
Now they camped at the desert's edge, soon to set out across the pale amber sands for the distant Waste and the Witch's Mere. Aeriel felt a growing anticipation, mingled with dread. She sat with Erin in the cool lee of a dune. It was nightshade, tents and pavilions pitched all around them under the ghostlight of blue Oceanus. Her friend had found them this quiet spot far from the constant bustle at the center of the camp. Aeriel was glad to get away.
"What baffles me," she said, touching the pearl through the fabric of her gown, "is that we have seen not one glimpse of the Witch's catspaws in all the time we have been in Westernesse."
She lifted free the pearl and cupped it in her hands like a faint, azure coal. Standing in the temple Flame at Orm had set this lampwing's gift alight—though its wan glow was difficult to discern except in shadowy darkness such as this, away from other light. Aeriel shook her head.
"Not one scout nor dog, nor one black bird. Why has the Witch sent none to spy on us?"
The dark girl laughed, leaning back on one elbow and poking at the dry sand. "She scarcely needs spies and catspaws to tell her the whereabouts of an army this size."
Aeriel put the pearl away. She felt one corner of her mouth tighten. "Does she not wonder at our number, at our strength?"
Erin found an old bead lying in the sand and held it up. It was deeply reddish, with a hole bored through one end, and carved of sandshell. The dark girl shrugged. "She knows our destination well enough. Perhaps she doesn't care."
"But she should care," muttered Aeriel. "This seeming unconcern uneases me."
Erin tossed the blood-colored bead aside and sat up, studying Aeriel. "Perhaps that is her intent, to unease you. This whole business hangs on you—somehow."
"On me?" scoffed Aeriel. "Only great good chance has put me where I am."
The dark girl shook her head. "More than chance, my true and only friend. There is a kind of power on you."
"What power have I?" insisted Aeriel. "When Irrylath generals the Lady's Istern troops, Sabr the forces of the West—"
"None of which would now be gathered but for you," Erin cut in gently. "The tales you told and the Torches you lit upon your quest to rescue the gargoyles have awakened half the people in the land. You have opened their eyes to the Witch and shown them the urgency of overthrowing her—today, tomorrow, soon—lest we all perish, thirsting to death."
Aeriel ran her hand over the fine, crusted sand. It felt cool and smooth as water in the bright starshine.
If only it were water, she thought grimly. If the moisture-stealing lorelei were not stopped soon, the whole world would succumb to famine and drought. Again Aeriel shook her head.
"I don't even know the rest of the rime," she murmured, "the rime Ravenna made so long ago to riddle all this out and show us how to unmake the Witch. I only have the first two-thirds."
Leaning back against the dune once more, Erin began to sing in a voice that was low and true: