The Gathandrian Trilogy 02 - Hallsfoots Battle

whispered. “You may understand, as well as hear. If you will permit it?”
    Wordless, and her throat full of fears and uncertainties she couldn’t fully name, she nodded. A heartbeat pulsed by, and then he reached forward and touched her lightly on the side of her head.
    As she closed her eyes, all his colours and hers rose to meet her. It was as if the two of them were caught in a river taking them to a rich and distant sea. For a moment out of any time-cycle she knew, Annyeke understood all the Lost One was and all he might one day become. Alongside that, her own self stretched and floated. The thoughts between them were as strong as a rope that could never be broken and the island she landed on was as safe as Gathandria had used to be.
    When she opened her eyes, she knew what she must say to him, although it cost her dear to say it.
    There are things you still have to say and do, Lost One. But not here. Not in Gathandria. Your journey lies elsewhere. Back where you once fled in terror with the man of my heart, back to the Lammas Lands.

    Simon
    It had taken him a few more day-cycles to be ready. At first, he had denied Annyeke’s prophecy but, as Johan had said, denying the words and wisdom of a red-haired woman was probably a danger beyond the both of them. He and Johan had smiled at that, but the truth lay heavy on their skin.
    More pressing than any of this had been the constant singing of the cane and the soaring flights of the snow-raven, both of whom were restless to be gone and would not, he knew, leave without him.
    So Simon the Scribe, the Lost One, took one last look at the people he had come to love. Talus nodded at him, his young face solemn. He nodded back. He had already hugged Johan and Annyeke, and said his goodbyes in private. The three of them had promised each other they would meet again, citing the power of travel held within the Tregannon emeralds as proof of what was possible. Simon hoped such confidence would be proved right, but kept his doubts to himself. If it were impossible, then he would cross mountain and air, desert and ocean once more to see these people again. He had done it before, hadn’t he? For yet another moment he gazed at Annyeke and Johan, smiled to see how their hands and minds were linked so inextricably that nothing could slip between them. That was good. It had been a long time coming and the land itself was pleased to welcome it.
    For now, though, there were other battles to be fought, and either won or lost. With the mind-cane quivering at his side and the snow-raven at his shoulder, he took the remaining emeralds, threw them into the sun and set his face for home.

    THE END