the dead and seldom enough at that, at Solstice and in times of great trial. Hadrumal's wizards have no notion of what they're corrupting.'
'If there were any other way, we would take it, but there isn't.' Charoleia was sympathetic but implacable.
Tathrin was equally resolute. 'We said we would do whatever it took.'
Somewhat to Branca's surprise, it was Gren who looked away first, his face still dark with disgust.
'Never mind,' she said quickly. 'I'll see for myself soon enough.'
'Will Jettin?' Tathrin looked around, as if searching for unseen eyes.
'I've no sense of him through the aether.' Branca paused to make certain no fresh presence lurked at the edge of her thoughts. 'Kerith and I stopped harrying him as soon as I saw you arrive in the courtyard. But he has become remarkably subtle in his Artifice. Do you want me to try and find him?'
'No.' Tathrin quickly shook his head. 'We don't want him to suspect we've any interest in him now.'
'Very well.' Branca didn't hide her relief. Jettin was becoming increasingly ferocious in his aetheric assaults. Contacting Kerith had become like trying to shout through a gale to someone a plough-length away.
Her reprieve was short-lived.
'Have you tried to reach Aremil recently?' Tathrin asked.
'No.' Branca turned away. 'Now, Yadres Den Dalderin--'
'Branca.' Tathrin's firm hand restrained her. 'You're the only one who can reach Aremil. We're certain of it, me and Failla--'
'I have tried,' she protested, 'but at this distance--'
'Then go to Carluse.' Tathrin wasn't about to yield. 'If you're there to hold his hand, to speak to him in person--'
'I will go, when I can,' she promised. 'But I'm still needed here.'
Tathrin looked sternly at her. 'You can be there in the blink of an eye with Sorgrad's help, and back again within the day. We need him, Branca. You know that.'
But did Aremil need her? Had the growing affection between them been severed once he learned she had killed that old woman? Had she destroyed it herself, with her wretched rejection, so guilt-ridden?
How many more times did she need to visit that barred and shuttered hall, waters lapping ankle-deep around its foundations, before she accepted that he was gone somewhere, somehow, far beyond her reach?
What would she do when all hope was lost? Wasn't it better to wait and to hope that he might one day return?
She shook off Tathrin's hand. 'I cannot go back to Carluse while Kerith and I must maintain all our aetheric communications, and frustrate Jettin's spying.'
Tathrin grasped her shoulder, forcing her to face him. 'Aremil could help you counter Jettin and relieve your other burdens besides. Then there's this question of Lescar's governance. If we're to save everyone from another year of pointless warfare, we must propose a settlement and soon; to the remaining dukes, to Emperor Tadriol and the Caladhrian parliament. Aremil knows a hundred times more than I do about political philosophies and systems.'
His firm expression wavered and Branca glimpsed the uncertain scholar Tathrin had been. But the trials of this past year had honed his determination, just as surely as swordplay and tough living had hardened his face and body.
'We all need Aremil, Branca, and Saedrin save us, I miss him. Don't you? I long to have him tell me that we were right to start all this upheaval. To tell me that we're doing what we must, however hard it is, to bring about a better future for all Lescari. I need to know that he still believes that. Then I can tell him that I still believe it, when it's his turn to be torn by doubts.'
Branca busied herself rearranging wine glasses. 'There's no reason to suppose I could reach him with my Artifice, even if I went to Carluse, not if Kerith can't.'
'Branca!' Tathrin's irritation stilled her hands. 'He loves you. You love him. You can't tell me that won't help!'
'I--' Tears blurred her vision as the stifled ache of Aremil's absence blossomed beneath her breastbone.
'Are you so ashamed of what you've done?' Tathrin stepped closer, low-voiced. 'Are you so scared of what he might see? When you only did what you had to, to save yourself, to save Charoleia and Trissa? Do you really think he could hate you for that?'
'He's already seen it.' Branca could barely speak.
'Did he drive you away when he did?' Tathrin shot back. 'No, and he won't, any more than he's denied me as his friend, for my violence in this war. I've done far worse than you, Branca. Don't tell me you