ruefully to herself with the whimsical hope she would indeed marry the prince—for then she would never have to worry about her total lack of practical skills. His servants would take care of everything, and—
Sioned.
She whirled around, looking to the east from whence the call had come. She automatically opened herself to the colors brushing against her mind. There was always a Sunrunner on duty to receive messages sent on the light, but it was not Sioned’s turn today. Someone was calling specifically for her.
She wove rays of light back across fields and valleys, over rivers and the vast grassy sea of Meadowlord. The threads met and her own colors tangled with those of Lady Andrade. There was a second presence, like yet unalike, oddly familiar in some of its shadings and strong in ways very different from Andrade. Sometimes when the light was chancy—at sunset or sunrise especially—farad-h’im worked together. But Sioned was certain that the person with Andrade was not trained, though there were unmistakable gifts in the bright colors of amber and amethyst and sapphire swirling with the pattern of a powerful mind.
Thank you for coming to meet me, child. But I need you to come even farther, in person. Arrange an escort of twenty, Sioned. This will be no pleasure trip. You must be here within six days. But before you enter Stronghold, make yourself stately and beautiful. You come here as a bride.
Though she had been waiting for this for five years, the shock was still profound. All she could think to ask was, Does he know?
Not yet—but he will, the instant he sees you. Hurry here to me, Sioned. To him.
Andrade and the mysterious other withdrew down the faltering rays of sunlight, and Sioned raced along her own weaving back to Goddess Keep, not pausing as she usually did to appreciate the beauty of the lands below her. She found herself almost too abruptly back on the battlements, and caught her balance mentally and physically. Below in the fields, wide-shouldered elk were being unharnessed from the plows and the sun had nearly disappeared into the sea. Sioned trembled, knowing that had she delayed her return, she might have become shadow-lost, falling into the Dark Water along with the sun.
“Sioned? What are you doing way up here? And whatever’s the matter?”
Camigwen approached from the stairwell, scowling in response to what Sioned knew must be in her face. They had come to Goddess Keep at the same time, were only a year apart in age, and had become fast friends their first day here. Camigwen was the only one besides Andrade who knew what Sioned had seen in the Water and Fire, and so the explanation Sioned gave was a simple one.
“It’s time, Cami. I’m to go to him.”
A flush darkened the older girl’s taze-brown skin. Her eyes, large and dark and slightly tip-tilted in her pretty face, held a hundred questions. But all she did was grasp Sioned’s hands.
“Will you come with me, you and Ostvel?” Sioned pleaded. “I need you both—I don’t know what I’m to do or say—”
“You couldn’t keep me from a sight of this man if there were a thousand dragons in my way!”
Sioned gave a nervous laugh. “Well, you have the dragon part of it right.”
“The Desert? But who—?”
“The young prince,” Sioned replied, strangely unable to say his name.
Camigwen stared at her for some time, unable to speak a single word. But when she finally recovered her voice, it was to give a moan of dismay. “Oh, Goddess—and there’s not a single stitch sewn on a bride-gown!”
Tension dissolved into laughter and Sioned hugged her friend. “Only you could be so practical at a time like this!”
“Somebody has to be, with you standing there like a scattershell! Oh, Sioned! It’s wonderful!” Camigwen drew back and regarded her friend narrowly. “You do think it’s wonderful, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Sioned whispered. “Oh, yes.”
Camigwen nodded, satisfied. “I’ll tell Ostvel at once to arrange the escort. How many do you think we’ll need?”
“Lady Andrade said twenty. And we have to be there within six days.”
“Six?” She groaned and shook her head. “We’ll never make it. But we must, and on time, too, or I’ll never get my sixth ring and Ostvel will be demoted back to stable-boy instead of Second Steward of the Keep! We’ll leave tomorrow at first light. I can cut cloth tonight and sew along the way!”
Between Camigwen’s efficiency and Ostvel’s authority, all was arranged so quickly that Sioned’s head spun. She found