White Road

would be a young man by now. Somehow the dark witches had found him and made the tayan’gil. How they had gotten all the way back to Aurënen was as much a mystery as why the tayan’gil existed at all.
    “Can you see their faces, Turmay?”
    “Not yet. I just know that he and the tayan’gil are still together.”
    Rieser gave him a rare smile. “Thank you for your help, my friend. Without your visions, we would not have come so far so quickly.”
    “Thank the Mother,” the witch replied with a grin.

    Turmay lay awake after the other ’faie had gone to sleep. The tayan’gil Hâzadriën did not sleep, and the witch suspected that Rieser had ordered it to watch him at night.
    Turmay had not lied to Rieser. He just hadn’t told him the whole truth.
    Curled up by the fire, he clutched his oo’lu close and silently prayed to the half-moon above.
    Beautiful Mother, giver of life and death, shine your face on me and guide me to this white abomination. Guide my hand to kill it before it acts again!

CHAPTER 9
Home
    S NOW was falling gently as Alec and the rest reached the mouth of the home valley.
    Seregil had tried to describe his home to Alec, but when they finally reached it just before sunset, Alec found it more vast and beautiful than he’d imagined. The lower end of the valley was rolling and broad, with plentiful water from several rivers. Acres of meadow promised lush hay in summer.
    The valley was dotted with horse farms that reminded Alec of Watermead, and others raising sheep, goats, and chickens, and still others that looked like they were tilled for grain and vegetables in summer. Farther up, the valley narrowed and the sides grew steeper, but Alec could make out the dark shapes of herds there, too.
    Seregil kept his hood up as they neared the final crossroad. His kin and the escort riders greeted friends by name. Four decades weren’t a lot in a ’faie lifetime, and he recognized quite a few people. Some of them were his age, and it was bittersweet to see how young they still looked compared to him.
    Though he kept up a cheerful façade, he felt an increasing inner turmoil as they reached the final turn onto the steep road that led up to the town of his birth. To their left he could already hear the roar of the lower river churning in the gorge below. The Bôkthersan clan house and central town lay on the eastern shore of a large mountain lake. The Silver Rivercascaded down from the peaks to feed it, and then continued down the valley in a rushing torrent.
    The sigh of the breeze in the boughs soothed him a little, as it always had, and the deep snow brought back happy memories of snowball fights and ice fishing on the lake, and hot drinks around the bonfires afterward as the feeling came back like pins and needles to cold fingers and toes.
    To be riding up this road again was gift enough, but to be in the company of Alec and Micum and his kin brought a lump to his throat.
    He wondered if his other two sisters, Shalar and Illina, would be there to greet him. They’d shunned him since his first exile, sending no words of comfort and staying away from Sarikali when he’d been there. According to Adzriel, there were others among his kin and clan who would not welcome him warmly, either.
    Nudging his horse up beside Seregil’s, Alec gave him a knowing look as he said quietly, “That’s not a very cheerful expression, talí. Aren’t you happy to be back?”
    Seregil forced a smile, not wanting to spoil this first visit for Alec in any way.
    Alec’s heart beat faster as they approached the town. The houses here were very like those in Gedre, square and solid with domed colos on top, but built of timber and dressed stone, and decorated with intricate carvings.
    The valley was breathtakingly grand, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. The frozen lake was nowhere near as large as the Blackwater, but it was large all the same. There were little islands out there, too, and Alec could imagine camping out on one of them some summer night.
    People waved and called greetings as they headed down the main street toward the clan house. Alec was thrilled to see so many green sen’gai in one place. Everyone wore the graceful traditional clothing here; men and women alike wore trousers and boots or slippers. The main difference in the tunics, which were split from hem to belt on either side, was that the women’s were longer. They were made of softwool, and dyed in every color for everyday use,