“Our next target?” I asked, trying to quell the roiling unease the notion provoked in me. Kehlbrand, however, either failed to sense it or thought it of little account.
“We don’t have the strength yet,” he said. “Other towns along the border offer easier pickings, not to mention fresh adherents.”
“They have to be alive to worship you.”
“And they will remain so, for the most part. For our mission to succeed, dearest sister, I require an army of believers, not mere soldiers, an army of those redeemed in the sight of the Darkblade.”
But for that maddening knowledge in his gaze, I would have thought this the old Kehlbrand, letting the godly mask slip to share a confidence with the only soul he could truly trust. This is the mask now, I realised, matching his sardonic grin with a forced smile.
“Did you know,” Kehlbrand went on, fixing his gaze on the distant city, “that our agents tell me the governor of Keshin-Kho has two principal traits, great ambition and desperate loneliness. I believe, with Dishona’s help, we can unburden him of both.”
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
That night, for the first time since childhood, I wept. I had pitched my tent apart from my Gifted family, telling them I needed to be alone. They assumed I intended to delve into the True Dream, but instead I felt an overwhelming need to surrender to my sorrow, at least for just one night. The tears fell freely and I choked my sobs with the wolf-pelt hem of my cloak, fearing they might draw Kehlbrand’s attention.
Does he know? I asked myself over and over. Does he know that I see him, see what the others do not? It seemed incredible that he had failed to sense my despair, which raised the question of why he hadn’t sent me away, or . . . killed me.
He will never do that. I knew this with as much certainty as I knew Kehlbrand was no longer my brother. Whatever changes had been wrought upon him when he touched the stone, the ability to murder his sister was not amongst them. The kernel of our love remained whole, but would it survive all that awaited us?
Eventually the tears faded and I lay on my mats, exhausted and mind churning endless unanswerable questions. Usually the black veil will descend only when my mind is at its calmest, but that night it fell when it had reached the pinnacle of despair. The world disappeared and the True Dream unfolded, my skin prickling with the unfamiliar sensation of a chill breeze accompanied by warm sunlight. I blinked and immediately swayed on my feet, stomach lurching at the sight confronting me.
Mountains, so many, so tall. A lifetime on the Iron Steppe had provided scant familiarity with high places, although I had glimpsed the western coastal peaks from a distance. But never had I seen mountains so close, nor from above.
Looking down, my stomach lurched with greater urgency, summoning a dizziness that threatened to tip me over.
“Careful,” a soft, pleasant voice advised, small but firm hands grasping my arms until I steadied. I found myself confronted by a diminutive woman with as perfectly fashioned a face as I ever expected to see. She wore fine robes of bright, intricately embroidered silks, her hair arranged in an elegant but complex display of combs and pins.
“Thank you for coming,” she said. “I thought it was time we talked.”
“Talked about what?” I grimaced in confusion, my gaze flicking from her face to the mountains, then the balcony on which we stood, clearly part of some far larger structure. “Who are you?”
“My mother gave me a name a very long time ago,” she said. “But it will have no meaning now. These days they call me the Jade Princess. And we have a great many things to talk about. Principally your brother, and a man I believe he refers to as the Thief of Names.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Dying, Vaelin knew, was not akin to falling into a gentle slumber. The onset of death inevitably summons pain and terror, stripping away the self-deceits of courage and resolve to leave only the instinct of survival, the need to clutch to life.
This was easier the last time, he concluded as a fresh wave of agony swept through him. His vision was an alternating haze of shifting black clouds parting occasionally to reveal barely comprehensible glimpses of the living world. A blue expanse of sky, speckled in cloud. The sparse grass of the