for his afternoon prayers, Cheyne and the slave jumped to their feet, a hundred questions on their lips.
"He lives, and I believe he is healed. But I cannot tell you when he will awaken. It could be anytime. Or it could be much longer. But here, we pay little attention to time…" said Luquin, smiling.
"But I need to know that he's all right. And I need to know what he wanted to tell me in the forest." Cheyne put the book down, picked up the totem, and turned it over and over in his hands.
"Muje?" said Doulos. "Remember that you have many other things to ask."
"What does that matter if Javin doesn't wake up? I… I got him into this mess by leaving before he could find the Collector. He told me to wait. 1 should have."
"But Muje, he came because he wanted to. And you came back for him, leaving what you thought was your only chance to see the Treefather, just as he left his work to look for you. If you do not ask about the Clock, all that he cared about will be as dust."
There was time, not many days ago, that Cheyne would have answered that all Javin cared about was dust anyway. Old dry, dead things that had nothing to do with the living people around him. But not now. Cheyne knew Doulos was right, but it didn't ease the pain of guilt in his chest.
The Treefather looked long into Cheyne's troubled eyes, then gently took the book from him.
"I know what you seek, Cheyne. And I will tell you what I can."
He turned through the fragile pages of the little book, shaking his head at first, then stopping at the last several leaves. Finally he took the totem and held it to the light. Luquin's brow creased as he studied the last glyph. Cheyne waited patiently, but his eyes were on Javin.
"The last glyph is a woman's name. The marker- that fingerprint is feminine-but I cannot read the letters. It's inscribed with magic." he finished.