The Gathandrian Trilogy 01 - The Gifting

They’re the ones I don’t want to find out about what I’m doing.”
    “I thought they knew everything, anyway?”
    Annyeke took the plate he was holding and added it to the stack on the table. “That’s what I thought too, but they haven’t confronted me yet. Something happened—when I was with them and the mind-circle—and whatever it was it seems to be protecting my thoughts from them now. I don’t know how long it will last but I intend to make the most of it while I can.”
    Having declared, however quietly, her stand against the whole Gathandrian culture and ages-long tradition, Annyeke wasn’t sure what the response would be.
    Unexpectedly, Talus grinned. “Are you rebelling then? Is it to do with where the Montforts have gone?”
    For once speechless, she stared at him. What on earth did they talk about at classes? She would have to have a word with the tutor, she could see.
    “No,” she replied. “I am not rebelling, Talus. I am simply investigating. There’s a difference. And, yes, it is to do with the Montforts. But I’m hoping—we’re all hoping—they’ll be back soon and then this hateful war will be over.”
    No sooner were the words out of her mouth than she was regretting them. The boy’s face folded in on itself as recent memory rippled through him.
    “I’m sorry, so sorry,” Annyeke breathed, enfolding him in her arms and feeling his harsh sobs against her neck. They stayed there a long time and she sensed that when the crying stopped something in his mind was clearer.
    Afterwards, she laid him on her bed, kissed his forehead and whispered a mind-spell of protection. It wouldn’t be dark for a while yet, but it was best to be safe. She needed to go now. It was the wisest time for another reason; the elders would today be paying one of their occasional visits to the city’s recently damaged zones. The chances of discovery were fewer.
    It took her longer than she’d anticipated to reach the Council ruins. There’d been a recent series of attacks on the northern part of the city, and several people stopped to ask about them. Not much she could do, of course. Only offer comfort and mental strength where she could. She wished again that Johan hadn’t had to go. He had an air of authority about him that gave her fellow Gathandrians hope, and she wasn’t sure that she was a good enough substitute. Even though her skills in relating to people were better than Johan’s.
    When she finally reached her destination, her mind felt raw. So much pain, both here and in the neighbouring countries. When would it ever stop? She shut her eyes for a few moments and tried to calm her thoughts. If she were going to revisit the elders’ underground chamber, she would need all her senses about her. In the late afternoon, the street was fairly busy but, even now, townsfolk were beginning to make their way home. There was more purpose about the way they walked. Of course that was also to do with the bite in the air. Winter was no longer that far away. Johan and his companions would have to be back before the snows came.
    A ripple of discomfort crossed her mind as she remembered how easily the elders had discovered her feelings for her absent colleague. The fact that someone else had keyed into it did not give her cause for rejoicing. It didn’t matter anyway; Johan rarely paid her any kind of attention, at least not in that way. Damn it to the stars.
    She tightened her lips. No use worrying about it now. She had work to be done. Come what may.
    A quick glance around reassured her that no one was watching. She laid her hand against the wall and waited. It worked as it had the day before and a few moments later she was inside, breathing heavily. She hoped that no one had seen her strange antics. She’d be hard-pressed to find excuses if she’d been spotted. Still something told her she was safe enough for now.
    Before taking another step, however, she concentrated and sent her mind out into the corridor in front and to the secret library. She sensed nobody. Good. Time for further investigation then.
    In the place of books, she shivered. Something bad had happened here. The pain and memory of it lurked in the dark shadows, clung to the papers and manuscripts, even brushed against her skin. The moment she let her thoughts roam free through the air, the misery threatened to overpower her, so she closed her mind down as far as she was able. Then, taking care not to look too much at the cage which