“Yes.”
Hezhi shifted uncomfortably in her saddle. That seemed to be the end of the discussion about Perkar, though it only served to confirm what she already suspected. Unexpectedly, she found that she enjoyed speaking with the halfling—and was not yet ready to end their conversation. “What do you know about dreams?” she was surprised to hear herself ask.
“Not much. I do not have them. If I do, I do not remember them.”
“How odd. I thought everyone dreamed.”
“I have had hallucinations, when I was fevered. But I've never had a dream or a vision.”
“My father has dreams,” Hezhi said. “All of those of Royal Blood have them. The River sends them so that we may know his will.”
“Have you had such a dream?”
“Something like that,” she replied cautiously.
“You should speak to Brother Horse. He knows more of this than anyone here—as I'm sure you are aware.”
“Yes, and I'll speak to him eventually. But I want you to know, too. In time it may become important.”
“I'm flattered,” the half man said, and he did not sound sarcastic.
“First of all, I don't think I got the dream from the River—not directly. I believe that if he could send me a dream, he would do more than that. I believe that I really am beyond his reach. But I think he sent his message through someone else.”
“Who?”
“This Mang gaan the Blackgod told you about, the one who sent Moss and Chuuzek, whose men attacked you and Perkar earlier. He has found a way into my dreams. He tells me lies.”
“What lies?”
“That part isn't important. I just thought… if he can send dreams to me, he might be able to do more. I know just enough about sorcery to suspect that.” She looked down uncomfortably. “What I'm saying is, perhaps I can't be trusted, either. Perkar nearly slew me once, and for good reason. A dreadful power sleeps in me, Ngangata. I just want you to know that I should be watched, that's all.”
Ngangata smiled. “I trust very little about the world,” he said. “Perkar is perhaps my best—if only—friend, and as you know, I don't trust him. Inside of you, however, there is a—I'm not good with words—a kind of glimmer. Or maybe a truth. Something I trust, anyway.” He looked away, plainly embarrassed.
“I hope you're right,” Hezhi said.
“Well, I have been wrong before,” Ngangata admitted. “And believe me, I never rely entirely upon such instincts. I will watch you—even more closely than I have.”
“Thank you.”
“No need for that,” Ngangata assured her.
THEY traveled steadily until noon, and then the men conferred and called a halt. Brother Horse and the other Mang were essentially convinced that whatever creature had dispatched Chuuzek's party was not following them, guessing that it was a territorial rather than a roaming god. Perkar diffidently agreed. Moss had awakened, and everyone wanted to question him.
But it was Moss who asked the first question. “Chuuzek? What has become of my cousins?”
Moss sat on the ground, weaponless, hands tied in front of him. His feet were hobbled with a length of rope that would not hinder him much walking but that would prove inconvenient if he attempted to run. Brother Horse, Perkar, and Ngangata stood over him.
“Don't you know?”
“I don't remember anything much. Something struck my head as I was waking—” He fingered the bruise tentatively.
“Your cousins are dead. Something bleeding black blood killed them. Do you know what it was?”
“No,” he replied, but his eyes flicked to Hezhi, and she saw something there that made her doubt his answer.
“Why were you following us?” Perkar demanded.
“You know,” Moss answered sullenly.
“I know only that some shaman sent you to kidnap Hezhi. I don't know any more than that.”
“That is the only thing you have need to know.”
Brother Horse crouched, creakily, before the boy. “Moss, we want to know this thing your cousins died for. They died well; one tied himself to a tree, and whatever god they battled, they sent it away wounded.”
Moss looked a bit triumphant at that but said nothing. Nor did he reply to any of their other questions. Hezhi was afraid they would strike or torture him, but after a time, they merely stopped in frustration; Ngangata, Perkar, and Raincaster went to hunt, Brother Horse retreated to tend the fire, Yuu'han watched Moss from where he whittled at a cottonwood branch. After a moment, Hezhi stood, brushed at her dress, and walked over to the green-eyed Mang. Heen roused himself to accompany her—the old dog seemed to have appointed himself her guardian as well as Brother Horse's.
“May I talk to you, Moss?”
“You may.”
“You tried to convince me to go with you before. You said I could bring peace.”
“I did tell you that.”
She nodded. “I know you believe that to be true. There is much I don't know about you, Moss. I know even less about this gaan who sent you to gather me up. I only know that you aren't much older than I am and you can't be much wiser.”
He started to interrupt her, but she held up her hand. “Listen to me, please. I want to say something to you, while I am not too angry to say it.”
He subsided then and she continued. “When I was younger than I am now, back in Nhol, my best friend vanished. I looked everywhere for him, but I knew where he was all along. The priests took him away and put him in a dark place. They did this because he bore the blood of the River—the one you call the Changeling—and because that blood had marked him. I understood then that if his blood marked me, I would be taken away, too.”
“That would have been a shame,” Moss said. “A shame to put such a lovely woman somewhere dark.”
Hezhi felt some bitterness creep into her voice and wished she could keep it out somehow. She really wanted Moss to understand her, not to raise his hackles. “Some have called me pretty—some, perhaps, because they thought it, others merely to flatter me. But if the Royal Blood had worked long in me, no one would have thought me pretty. My relatives so marked all became monsters. Do you want to see my mark?”
“Very much.”
She pushed up her sleeve and revealed the single iridescent scale. “That was only the beginning. When I knew for sure that the change was coming to me, I ran. All of these people you see around me helped me run. They have all suffered for it, and many died because of my selfish desire to live. Now your gaan sends people after me, and more men are dying, and I want it to stop. But I will never go back to the River, because no matter what you have been told, I have felt his blood working in me. I know what I would do should he fill me up. He is tricking your shaman, trying to bring me to him. Your shaman in turn tricks you, and he sends me dreams, pretending to offer me my heart's desire. But I know what is best, because the River has been in me. People die now, but it is as nothing compared to what will happen if you return me to the Changeling. I will be forced to end my own life, if that happens, and I don't want to do that. But if men like you—good men, I believe, in your hearts—continue to die because of me …” Now she was weeping. ”Why doesn't it stop? Why don't you all just stop it?”
Moss spoke very gently, and his eyes were kind. “The world can be seen from so many different angles. Each of us is born seeing the world in a different way, and each moment we live shapes our eyes and hearts differently. I believe everything you say, Princess. You have my sympathy, and I am sorry to have caused you pain. But I still must place my duty first, and now I have the blood of my cousins to avenge, as well. I will think on what you told me, but I will not lie to you; my way is clear.”
Hezhi felt anger spark, but she pushed an acrimonious retort away.
“I don't expect anything from you,” she said evenly. “I just wanted you to know”
Moss sighed. “And now I know.”