The Pillars Of The World

downstairs,” Cullan said, sounding a bit too sulky for Morag’s liking.
    As soon as Cullan closed the door behind him, Morphia rounded on her sister. “What is the matter with you?”
    “Stay close to me today,” Morag said fiercely.
    Morphia let out a huff of exasperation. “Enough is enough. I have listened to your vague complaints that something is wrong because I know you’re troubled, but even I have limits.”
    “Then extend your limits and listen for a little while longer. If you love me at all, promise me you’ll stay close to me today!”
    Morphia studied Morag. Then she paled. “Is it my sister or the Gatherer who is asking?” She shook her head. “Don’t answer. What do you want me to do?”
    “Pack what you can in your saddlebags. If you brought more than that, leave it. See what you can bring in the way of food and drink, then meet me at the stables. I’ll get the horses saddled.”
    “Horses! Where are we going?”
    “Down the road through the Veil. We’re leaving here. Now.”
    Morphia shook her head. “No. This isn’t just a casual mating. I care about Cullan, and—”
    “ Then bring him with you . But don’t delay, sister.” Morag headed for the door.
    “You say enough to frighten but not enough to illuminate,” Morphia said angrily. “What is it you think is going to happen?”
    Morag turned to look at her sister’s shadowed face. “I don’t know. But I don’t think we have much time left.”
    As she left the Clan house and hurried toward the stables, she passed three children—a boy and girl ripening toward maturity, and a little girl.
    “The fog’s so thick beyond the gardens, if you hold out your arm, you can’t see your hand,” the boy said.

    Morag stopped, turned, stared at the children. Their faces were shadowed. Death could never be cheated, but there were times when Death was willing to turn aside for a while.
    “I don’t believe you,” the girl said. “I think you made it up.”
    The little girl tugged on the older one’s sleeve and pointed. “Look! That part of the Clan house has a white veil.”
    Morag looked in that direction and shivered. One part of the Clan house did look as if it had been covered with a sheer gauze that paled the color of the stones.
    “Come with me,” Morag said, grabbing the hand of the little girl. “All of you, come with me.”
    She didn’t wait to see if the other two would follow. When the little girl balked, she picked her up and moved toward the stables at a speed that left her breathless by the time she set the girl down to one side of the stable doors.
    “Stay here,” she ordered.
    The little girl looked at her with wide eyes filled with fear.
    Morag rushed into the stables. “Saddle the horses,” she snapped at the men who had stopped whatever chores they were doing to stare at her.
    “They haven’t been fed yet,” one of the men protested.
    “Leave it. Get them saddled. Now.”
    The dark horse thrust his head over the bottom half of the stall door and watched her.
    She opened the bottom half of the door, dropped her saddlebags over it, then turned to retrieve her tack. “Step out of there,” she said over her shoulder. “We have to go.”
    When she came out of the tack room with her saddle and bridle, she saw the men still standing there, doing nothing.
    “Saddle those horses, or it’s the last thing you’ll refuse to do,” she snarled.
    Coming from her, that threat they understood.
    She saddled the dark horse, then hesitated when he lowered his head to accept the bridle. She stuffed the bridle in her saddlebags, tied them to the saddle, and hurried out of the stables, knowing he would follow her.
    The fog was playing with the part of the Clan house that had been veiled a few minutes ago, obscuring part it for a moment, then lifting enough to reveal it again. But each time, more of it remained to shroud the walls.
    She picked up the little girl and set her on the dark horse’s back.
    “My sister,” the girl whimpered.
    “You stay here with him,” Morag said. “I’ll find your sister.” And mine .
    As Morag ran toward the Clan house, the fog retreated, then swept in again. The most distant part of the Clan house disappeared—and didn’t return.
    “Mother’s mercy,” Morag whispered. “Morphia.”
    A thin layer of fog swiftly covered half of the Clan house.
    Morag ran faster.
    When she reached a terrace, she skidded to a stop. She couldn’t see into the fog that formed a wall,