depths. Ehla grabbed at the coil of rope fast disappearing after Mihn.
‘I’ve been looking forward to that bit,’ Xeliath said, wincing at the effect the punch had had on her twisted body.
The witch didn’t reply. She peered over the edge of the boat for a moment, then looked back towards the shore. The sun was a smear of orange on the horizon but it wasn’t the advancing evening that made her shiver unexpectedly. In the distance she saw Daima set her fishing rod down while barely a dozen yards from the old woman, a pair of gentry crept forward to drink from the lake.
Ehla pulled the hood of her cloak over her head and did the same for Xeliath before helping the girl to sit down in the curved hull of the boat. Above, the sky slowly darkened while they made themselves as comfortable as they could.
‘Now it is up to Mihn,’ she said quietly.
Legana felt the touch of Alterr’s light on her face and drew back a fraction until her face was again shadowed from the moon. With her half-divine senses open to the Land she could feel her surroundings in a way that almost made up for her damaged eyesight. The woman she was stalking was no more than two hundred yards off and coming closer. Like a snake tasting the air Legana breathed in the faint scents carried on the breeze. The spread of trees and the slight camber of ground unfolded in her mind: a complex map of taste, touch and other senses she had no names for. Within it the other woman shone, illuminated by a faint spark within her that tugged at Legana’s weary heart.
She replaced the blindfold and waited for the right moment to step out from the shadows. The blindfold hampered little, and it made her appear less of a threat; it did Legana no harm to remain cautious and look feeble. Her voice had been ruined by the mercenary Aracnan’s assault and normally she would be forced to communicate by means of the piece of slate that hung from a cord around her neck - but the woman had the spark within her, as Legana herself did. It was faint - she had clearly strayed far from the Lady - but Legana hoped it would be enough for her divine side to exploit.
When the woman was only a dozen yards away Legana moved out from behind a tree. The woman gave a yelp of surprise and drew an axe and a shortsword in one smooth movement. In response Legana leaned a little more heavily on her staff and pushed back the hood of her cloak so the woman could see the blindfold clearly.
‘Not a good night to be walking alone,’ Legana said directly into the woman’s mind.
The other glanced behind her, wary of an ambush. As she did so the scarf over her head slipped, showing her head was nearly bald. ‘How did you do that? Who says I’m on my own?’
‘I know you are.’
‘You’re a mage without any fucking eyes, what do you know?’ the stranger snapped. She was shorter than Legana by some way, and more powerfully built. The lack of hair made her look strange and foreign, but as soon as she spoke her accent labelled her as native Farlan.
‘I know more than you might realise,’ Legana replied, taking no offence. A small smile appeared on her face: before Aracnan’s attack she had been just as prickly as this woman. It had taken an incurable injury to teach her the value of calm. The quick temper of her youth would do a blind woman no good, whether or not she was stronger than before.
‘For example,’ Legana continued, ‘I know you strayed from your path a long time ago - and I know I can help you find it again.’
‘Really? That’s what you know, is it?’ The woman shook her head, confused by the fact that someone was talking thought to thought, but anger was her default state, as it had once been for Legana, and it presently overrode her questions. ‘Looks to me like you’re the one who’s lost the path, and being blind I’d say you’re in a lot more trouble than I am out here.’
‘What is your name?’
For a moment she was silent, staring at Legana as though trying to work out what threat she might pose. ‘Why do you want to know?’ she asked eventually.
Legana smiled. ‘We’re sisters, surely you can tell that? Why would