Dawn Cook - Truth 03 - Forgotten Truth

Forgotten Truth

Dawn Cook

ACE BOOKS, NEW YORK

ISBN: 0-441-01117-9

For Tim

Chapter 1

Alissa's throat tightened at the sight of the updraft, a deeper blue against the washed-out autumn sky.

It rose like a column of shimmering heat from the open field of grass. Beneath her was the icy cool of the

surrounding forest. Tops of individual trees were lost in a blur of damp pine smell from her speed. The

wind slipping over her felt and sounded like gray silk, but instead of her usual pleasure, she felt only a

coming dread.

"See it?" Beast said in her thoughts. "What's going to happen when we find it?"

"We go up," Alissa thought back, swallowing nervously. "The sun's setting, and I have a lesson

tonight. Perhaps we should stop. It's getting hard to see the updrafts."

"It is not. We've been at this since sun-high. It's not that hard, Alissa." The voice in her thoughts

gave the impression of an aggravated sigh. "We're almost there. What do you do when you reach it?"

"I—uh—cup my wings about it and turn into a rising curve?"

"Yes."

Alissa's long tail made an exasperated twitch. She was sure Beast had done it. Alissa wouldn't have

minded, but it shifted their momentum, and Alissa gasped. Beast said nothing as she impatiently

abandoned this pass and angled Alissa back to the forest. Beside her came a faint chitter as Talon,

Alissa's pet kestrel, protested at the sharp shift of direction.

The bird had accompanied her all afternoon as if in encouragement.

"Beast," Alissa asked, "why are we bothering? I don't care you do all the flying."

"I've seen your teacher watch you when we fly. He knows something is wrong. Someday he

might realize it isn 't you who is flying but me." Beast turned Alissa back to the updraft. "Look

sharp. I'm not going to help you this time."

"Beast?" Alissa thought, concerned as she took control over the gentle glide Beast had left her in,

but the voice didn't answer. Alissa eyed the approaching updraft, knowing from countless passes she had

a moment to gather her courage. She glanced forward to the Hold. The nearly abandoned fortress

nestled into the rock of the mountain. Behind the peak was a steep drop. The setting sun had beaten

upon the sheer rock face all afternoon until the wave of heat streaming from it was so strong, it was

almost purple to her raku eyes.

Beast had sported them in the windy violence earlier, showing Alissa the glorious possibilities to be

found in up-drafts before settling down to try to teach Alissa to fly on her own. The heavy upwelling of

energy behind the Hold made the updraft over the fallow fields look like a washbasin in comparison to

the sea, but even so it scared Alissa silly, making her long fingers tingle down to the tips of her savage

claws.

Cup my wings and ease into it, she thought, her lips pulling back from her long canines as she felt

Beast's thoughts turn impatient.

"Not so stiff, Alissa," her feral consciousness complained. "Tear my dame's wings to shreds, why

don't you trust the wind? It's more faithful than the most loyal mate."

"Mate?" Alissa thought, embarrassed. Distracted, she slammed into the updraft unprepared. The

wheat-scented wind caught her wings, shocking her with the force behind it. Alissa overcompensated.

Feeling herself stall, she tried to flap her wings. It was a mistake. Pain shot through her back as she

sought to find lift from a standstill.

"Alissa!" Beast shrieked. "You can't rise that way! Cup your wings!"

Alissa's tail whipped wildly as she tried to find her center of balance. It smacked painfully into a

treetop. She was out of the updraft and back over the trees. Without the help of the rising air, she fell. A

massive hemlock loomed before her. "Beast!" she cried.

Beast tried to snatch control, but panicked, Alissa wouldn't let go. Wings flailing, Alissa crashed

through the canopy. Branches as thick as her arm snapped. Pain raked her wings. Frantic, Alissa

struggled to fold them. There was no time to even gasp as the ground came at her.

She hit hard. In an uncontrolled barrel roll, she tumbled along the ground. Undergrowth and small

trees cracked. End over end she spun until slamming into a tree. Her long neck flung out, and her jaw

smacked into the earth. The tree shivered, sending dead needles to the ground and birds into the air.

Blood filled her mouth. She had bitten her tongue.

"Oh, Ashes," she moaned aloud, her words coming out as a pained, guttural groan. Talon fluttered

down to perch on her head, the bird's nails digging painlessly into Alissa's bare scalp. Alissa waved a

nastily clawed hand at her bird to get her to leave. It was so undignified when Talon perched on her head

like that. The kestrel made an insulted squawk and flew away.

"Alissa?" came a dry, disgusted thought from the depths of her mind. "You are the only raku I

know who can fall down in an updraft."

"Ow," Alissa groaned aloud, her thick rumble carrying more pain than her human voice ever could.

She slowly picked herself up, settling into a suffering, hunched crouch. Red-rimmed scratches marred her

golden hide, and she was sore with what would probably be bruises.

"Look at your wing," Beast demanded. "I think you tore it."

Stomach turning, Alissa extended her left wing, being careful to not hit any of the remaining trees in

the clearing she had made. Her neck snaked to look behind her. "Burn it to ash," she thought. A panel

close to her body had been punctured, making a tear almost as long as a man was tall. She looked to the

ground, trying not to pass out or vomit. What would Useless, her teacher, say? He would ground her for

a week.

"A week?" Beast thought sourly. "It's going to take twice that long to heal."

Alissa said nothing, relieved when her feral consciousness seemed to disappear. There was little to

interest Beast on the ground. Only anger or the promise of flight would bring Beast to the forefront of

Alissa's thoughts again.

She carefully folded her wing, holding it from her side as it was still oozing blood. The faint sound of

someone calling her name filtered through the woods. It sounded muffled, as her hearing was now more

attuned to deep tones her human ears couldn't discern. Her pulse quickened as she recognized Strell's

voice. He had probably seen her fall. A second voice joined Strell's, and she grimaced. Lodesh was with

him. Better and better.

Having the always-composed, self-assured, onetime ghost find her hurt and foolish was the last thing

she wanted. Alissa sighed. Not really a ghost. Not anymore. The ancient Warden of Ese'Nawoer said he

was as living as any man. It was a claim she tended to believe, as Lodesh's hands were warm when he

pulled her into a dance, and his frequent, overly expressive looks often brought a blush to her face.

There was a faint tug upon her awareness. Recognizing Lodesh trying to reach her thoughts, she set

up a block so he couldn't find her. And she could shift back to her human form to hide the tear. What her

hurt wing would turn into was a question she had hoped she would never have to answer.

"Alissa?" came Strell's low-pitched voice, close and worried, and she sat up with a surprisingly quiet

shuffle of leaves.

"Ali-i-i-i-issa?" called Lodesh, his careful pronunciation sounding concerned as well. Then, softer,

clearly to Strell. "I know she came down here somewhere. I hope she's not unconscious. I can't reach

even her thoughts."

She felt wicked, but the shame of her torn wing kept her mouth shut and her mind closed. Lodesh

would shake his head, then tease her until her teacher found out about the tear. Strell would tactfully

ignore the situation—providing she seemed all right—knowing she would be embarrassed for having

fallen out of the sky. If she was going to shift, it would have to be now.

With three slow breaths, Alissa unfocused her attention. Quick from practice, she set up the proper

pathways in her mind to work the ward. Cool, silver force flowed from her source to fill her tracings,

deep in her awareness. The heavy smell of bracken and sap vanished as she broke herself down to a

thought, shifted that thought to the body she had been born with, then made that thought real. At the last

moment, she remembered to clothe herself, and a new pattern joined the one already resonating in her

mind.

Alissa coalesced into existence wearing a Keeper's traditional garb of long tunic and short vest bound

about her small waist with a black scarf. A skirt hemmed in green ribbon finished the outfit, edging her

toes. Her feet were bare but for a pair of thin stockings with holes, and her face wanned for the lack of

shoes. At least she had stockings on. She may as well be naked if she hadn't had those.

Useless hated her Keeper attire, saying as a Master, she ought to dress as such. But she hadn't yet

taken the time to learn how to craft anything else with her thoughts. The task was tedious, and she would

learn how to make shoes before more clothes. Alissa ran a hand over her skirt to reassure herself it was

there. The one time she had forgotten had been mortifying.

The stark savagery of hide, claw, and primitive strength had been replaced by sun-darkened skin and

horridly straight fair hair that went halfway to her elbows. Her eyes had retained their odd gray color; it

was something she wished she could change. Scratches marred her arms when she pushed up her long

sleeves to see, and her jaw was tender. A new soreness ran down her back, and she stretched painfully

to test her limits. Something was torn inside her. By feel she decided her back was whole and unmarked.

The damage was hidden inside.

Heart pounding, she lurched her way through the shattered branches and ducked behind a tree. If she

planned it right, she might get a moment with Strell alone.

"By the Navigator's Hounds!" she heard Lodesh exclaim, and she knew they had found her clearing.

"Look what she did!"

Alissa peered around her tree. Strell and Lodesh stood with their feet edging the new destruction in

the setting sun. Talon was perched on Lodesh's wrist. The canny bird swiveled her head and looked

directly at Alissa. She winced as Strell cupped his hands and shouted, "Ali-i-issa-a-a!"

Strell shivered and ran a hand over his brown hair, ending the motion with gripping the hair clip at the

back of his neck in a tight fist. The action was clearly one of worry. Strell was from the desert and

probably felt the chill of the coming night as much as she did—though she had yet to hear him complain

about it. He was surprisingly tall, almost gaunt despite the plates of food he ate. Dressed in his simple

brown shirt and trousers, he looked like a poor cousin next to Lodesh's extravagant clothes.

Lodesh was the only Keeper the Hold could boast of right now, and he was admittedly faster with his

wards than she, despite his lower standing. Nearly four centuries ago he had been the Warden of the

nearby abandoned city, Ese'Nawoer. Now, the revived ghost spent much of his time helping her practice

her wards.

He was dressed in Keeper attire cut from a rich, dark green fabric befitting his Wardenship. Around

his neck was a silver pendant in the shape of a mirth flower. It was the symbol of his city and was

repeated on his heavy ring. He, too, kept his cheeks clear of even the hint of a beard, knowing Alissa

liked it that way. The Keeper cut a startling figure with his blond hair, green eyes, and confident poise,

but it was upon Strell her gaze lingered.

Alissa sighed in frustration. Strell, who had saved her life, who had freed Useless from his cell, who

had returned her mind to her when she went feral—who could never be a Keeper, forever unable to

perform even the simplest ward, and thus forbidden to her. It was Strell she loved. Strell and the smile he

reserved for her when they were alone.

The two men picked their way through the ruin, clearly awed. Even from behind her tree, she could

see Strell's worry. "Can you reach her thoughts yet?" he asked Lodesh after finding her blood on the

leaves. It was a rare question, proving how concerned Strell was. She knew Strell's aversion to bringing

up Lodesh's Keeper abilities. It only pointed out Strell's lack.

"No." Lodesh confidently put his hands on his hips and shook his head. "She's ignoring me, so she

must be all right. Obviously she isn't in her raku shape anymore."

Loosely unfocusing her attention, Alissa modulated her thoughts so Strell could hear her in his mind.

By rights she shouldn't be able to reach any but another Master, but Alissa never listened to

impossibilities, managing to speak with not only Masters and Keepers, but Strell as well. Useless said it

was from having started life as a human instead of a raku, thereby forcing her mind to develop human

strategies for verbal language. She didn't care.

"Strell?" she thought, knowing he wouldn't be able to answer. "Don't tell Lodesh. I'm over here."

She smiled at the faint rush of emotion she could sense from him: relief tinged with anticipation. Her

smile deepened as he turned to Lodesh. "Obviously she isn't here," Strell said, the fallacy falling from him

as convincingly as one of his numerous tales. "Why don't we split up? I'll check the woods. You see if

she's gone back to the Hold."

"Good idea." Shaking his head at the devastation, Lodesh walked the length of the new clearing and

vanished under the trees. From his wrist came Talon's chitter. The bird clearly knew he was going the

wrong way.

"Alissa?" Strell whispered as soon as Lodesh was gone.

"Here, Strell," she called, coming out from behind the tree.

He beamed, his shoulders relaxing as he saw she was all right. He crossed the clearing in eager, long

strides.

"Wait," she said in alarm. She held up a hand before he could sweep her into an embrace and show

the world her lack of footwear. "I lost my shoes."

Strell jerked to a stop. His brow furrowed, and he took her shoulders in his hands. "Are you all

right?" he asked, his brown eyes intent on hers.

Her breath caught at his tight grip, and she dropped her gaze, flustered. "Yes. I'm fine. But I left my

shoes this side of the garden's wall. Come with me to get them?"

"Ashes, Alissa," he said, reddening as he released her shoulders. "Would you hurry up and learn how

to make them?" Taking advantage of the rare opportunity of having no eyes upon them, Strell cupped her

hand in his as he helped her over the upturned earth.

"Thanks." Eyes lowered, she paced beside him, keeping her steps slow to prolong their walk, as

much as from the pain in her lower back. His hand was warm, and rough from his work at keeping the

Hold's few fires lit. She ran her fingertips to the ends of his fingers and back, feeling the calluses from his

twin professions of musician and potter. His other hand lacked a full pinkie, and she knew he had shifted

to her right side so as to hide it.

Alissa's mood went soft. It was foolish, and she knew it meant little, but Strell so rarely felt free to

show his feelings for her that even the smallest gesture was a treasure. It didn't help that he had been

raised in the stiff-necked culture of the desert, either. Useless would be annoyed if he found out she had

been alone with Strell in the woods.

It had been made very plain to her that Strell would never be allowed to formally court her. Part of

the bargain to bend the rules and let Strell remain at the Hold had been based on the understanding that

he would keep his thoughts—and hands—from Alissa. Useless made it no secret that he hoped with time

Alissa would turn her fancy to a match more suitable to her Master standing.

And time stretched forward for her in abundance. As a Master, she now had a life span ten times

Strell's. Again, she didn't care, or at least that's what she told herself.

"Play a tune for me tonight?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"M-m-m," he sighed, holding a branch for her as they passed into the shadow of the trees.

A familiar fluttering brought a groan of dismay from both of them. Talon hovered in a noisy complaint,

waiting for Alissa to offer her a perch. The robin-sized bird's chatters were accusing, and Alissa drew her

hand from Stroll's with a guilty swiftness. If she didn't, Talon's protests would turn physical. And though it

wouldn't be hard to fight off the small bird, it would be difficult explaining to Useless why Strell was

scratched.

Annoyed, she held out a wrist for the kestrel. "Hush," Alissa soothed as she brought Talon close and

tried to cover her head. Talon would have nothing to do with the pacification, worrying Alissa's fingers

with her sharp beak until Alissa gave up and put Talon on her shoulder. The bird's harangue never

slowed, but it at least grew softer, turning into a muttering complaint.

Alissa looked at Strell and winced. Lodesh had probably flown the bird, knowing she would seek out

her mistress. Strell took a reluctant step from her, clearly coming to the same conclusion. "You really

should teach that bird to wear a hood and jesses," he grumbled. Cupping his hands, he looked in the

direction Talon had come from. "Lodesh!" he shouted before the Keeper found them and guessed he had

been manipulated. "She's over here!"

"Is she all right?" came Lodesh's distinct call.

"I'm fine," she said as the outline of Lodesh became obvious, quashing her guilt for not having

answered his silent hail earlier.

"Are you sure?" he asked as he came even with them in a crackling of undergrowth. His gaze ran over

her from head to toe, and she flushed. The hint of amusement dancing over him made Alissa wonder if he

had known her plan all along, letting her and Strell think they had gotten away with something, but not

giving them enough time alone to get into trouble. It was hard to remember the man had a lifetime of

experience to draw upon when he looked like—Alissa glanced up at him and away—like a young,

handsome, carefree nobleman's son.

"I'm fine," she said again, slouching so her skirt hid her feet. Her back gave a deeper twinge, and she

forced her brow smooth so as to not show it. "But I have to fetch my shoes— again."

Lodesh brightened. "I'll make you a pair," he said cheerfully.

Alissa and Strell exchanged wondering looks. Lodesh had never offered to before. She hadn't known

he could make shoes from his thoughts. "But it takes years for a Keeper to learn how to craft something,"

Alissa said. "I didn't know you had been practicing."

Lodesh put a finger to his nose. His eyes glinted roguishly. "Years is what I've had, yes? And you

aren't the only one who has small, dainty feet, Alissa."

She took a breath to speak, then shut her mouth, embarrassed. It had been vain to assume he had

fixed a new form in his thoughts solely for her. There was a tug on her awareness as Lodesh worked his

ward. Curiosity prompted her to unfo-cus her attention to see the pattern of tracings he used. When she

was close enough, the creation of a ward set up a resonance within her own tracings, setting her dormant

pathways to faintly glow. It was how wards were taught to students.

A pair of soft, gray slippers ghosted into existence, cradled in Lodesh's hands. Alissa accepted them

gratefully. Both men looked away. Strell's back was stiff as he turned. She wanted to think it was to give

her some privacy, but she knew it was because he hated Lodesh using his Keeper skills. Alissa wedged

her feet into the gray slippers and shook her skirt out to cover them. "Thank you, Lodesh," she said

softly, not liking how he had made Strell feel.

Strell was unable to hide his sliver of frustration. Lodesh held an arm out to help her back to the Hold,

and Alissa miserably declined it. Undeterred, Lodesh gave her a good-natured smile. "Let me escort you

back to the Hold, Alissa. If I remember correctly, you have a lesson in the garden tonight. You're late."

Alissa's eyes widened, and her gaze darted to the Hold's tower showing beyond the pines. "Ashes,"

she exclaimed softly, tensing in worry. "Is it after six already? Last week the sun wasn't much higher at

six," she complained. "How am I supposed to be on time if it changes that fast!" Then another thought

pushed her concern to alarm. She glanced over her shoulder toward her clearing. "You don't think

Useless saw that, do you?"

Lodesh shook his head, grinning mischievously. "If he had, I'm sure you would have known it by

now."

Reassured, she took a quick step toward the Hold, then hesitated, knowing she ought not leave her

other shoes outside the garden wall just because she had a new pair.

"I'll get your shoes," Strell volunteered, apparently knowing where her thoughts lay. "You go ahead

with Lodesh."

Alissa dropped her gaze. An uncomfortable silence fell between them. Preoccupied with his thoughts,

Strell gave her only a wave before stomping off in a direction that was nowhere near the garden wall. She

allowed herself a small sigh as she turned to Lodesh and accepted his arm. They silently made their way

to the Hold. Talon's complaining finally stopped.

It was obvious Strell loved her. Lodesh had also made it clear with intent looks and uncommon

courtesies that he cared for her, too. Lately, Alissa had come to believe Lodesh was biding his time,

betting Strell would eventually make a mistake that couldn't be overlooked and find himself banished

from the Hold, leaving Alissa all to Lodesh. But for now, he seemed content to be a friend to them both,

knowing until he absolved his curse, he would remain in existence for as long as Alissa did—in some

form or another. He need only to wait.

The situation put Alissa in a foul mood when she thought about it too long. But it was hard not to like

Lodesh, with his quick wit and cheerful disposition. She also appreciated his steadfast tolerance of her.

She was putting all three of them through the Navigator's hell as she refused to abandon what her heart

wanted over what she knew was right, proper, and inevitable.

Alissa glanced up at Lodesh's firm profile. The handsome Keeper was clearly a better match for her,

seeing as there were no Masters left to choose from. With Lodesh, her children might make the jump to

Master as she had; with Strell, they likely wouldn't even make Keeper. And she did like Lodesh.... But

there had to be a way to get what she wanted. She just hadn't found it yet.

Squinting, Alissa brought them to a halt as they found the edge of the trees and the setting sun. The

Hold stood before them, gray in the shadowy light. Her breath slipped from her in a sigh as she tried to

imagine what the Hold had been like when it was full of Keepers, Masters, and students. It was easy this

time of day, the few moments between sunset and the lamps being lit. She could pretend the stillness hard

upon her ears and eyes was from grace being said, not twenty years of near abandonment.

Lodesh stirred, and she flashed him a quick smile. The sun was almost down. Useless would have

undoubtedly spent the interim planning out a fine lecture as to the proper use of time.

"Thank you, Lodesh," she said as she flung Talon into the air and they moved forward. "If it weren't

for you, I would have completely forgotten. How late am I?"

"You have no idea, Alissa," he said mysteriously, but if his look of alarm was contrived or not, she

couldn't tell.

Chapter 2

Lodesh met Alissa's quickening stride as they entered the smaller of the Hold's two kitchens. "Why,"

she complained, "did Useless get it into his head to hold class at night, anyway?"

"You really should call Master Talo-Toecan by his given name, Alissa."

She shifted her shoulders. "He told me I could call him that, and at the time, he was."

"A Master of the Hold is anything but useless," Lodesh insisted.

"Perhaps," she muttered. "Unless bound by his word or her lack of skill."

Lodesh put out a hand and stopped her. Ashamed, she dropped her gaze. "You," he said gently, "are

not useless." The clean scent of mirth wood filled her senses, and his hand lifted her chin. She went still as

their gazes met. When she had first made his acquaintance, he had diligently striven with subtle words and

sly looks to get her to blush. Repeated exposure and a comfortable friendship had made her immune to

his considerable charms—for the most part. That, and her slow awareness of the old grief he hid behind

his eyes.

His eyes were old. In them was the pain Lodesh had endured as his beloved, cursed city faltered and

fell: watching his people leave family by family, seeing the prosperous streets go empty and silent,

knowing it was his fault and his fault alone. Uncomfortable, she looked away.

"Even in the best of circumstances a Master takes the better part of two centuries to become

proficient," he continued, clearly not knowing she could see. "Be patient."

"Now you sound like Useless," she said.

"Just so." He smiled. "And you should call him Talo-Toecan. Besides," he said as he picked up a

cloth and moved a kettle from the flames, "your schooling is going frighten-ingly quickly. I imagine he's

currently deep into the theory of line tripping."

"How—how did you know?" she asked.

He looked up from filling a teapot with the lukewarm water from the hearth. There was a flash of

resonance across her tracings as he used a warming ward and the teapot began to steam. "Your evening

lesson gave it away," he said. "Tripping the lines of time to view the past is complicated. It would be

unlike Talo-Toecan to allow you to sleep on half the lesson, risking you would figure the rest out on your

own and get yourself into trouble."

Alissa winced, knowing Useless had cause to worry. "Ah, yes."

Smiling, Lodesh found a soft cloth and dabbed at her jaw-line. It came away with a red smear, and

she reached up to touch her jaw. "Did you fall because of Beast?" he asked lightly.

Her breath seemed to freeze. Taking the towel from his hands, she turned away. "No," she said, too

embarrassed to tell him she couldn't yet fly on her own.

He hesitated. "I'm concerned, Alissa. Masters always destroy the second, feral consciousness that

evolves when learning how to shift from raku to human. None have ever agreed to live with it. Perhaps

this is why?" His green eyes went worried. "Is Beast—trying to take over?"

"No. She isn't," Alissa said defensively, not liking to talk of Beast so openly. If Useless realized Alissa

had retained her feral conscious, he would make her destroy Beast. Even Strell didn't know. How

Lodesh had guessed was beyond her.

Lodesh's head tilted, his worried stance saying more than words that he wasn't convinced. "Here," he

finally said, extending the brewing pot. "You're late, but if you bring him tea, he will most likely overlook

your tardiness." Alissa's brow pinched at the reminder. "You had better run," he said, leading her by the

elbow to the door.

With a final, extravagant gesture, Lodesh opened the garden door. The sound of crickets slipped in to

pool behind her, urging her to be out among them in the dew-ridden darkness of a night with no moon.

Alissa gathered her skirts in one hand, the pot of tea in the other. Her back protested as she started

down the weed-lined path to the large, sunken firepit that often served as her schoolroom. Behind her,

the door shut with a gentle thump.

Talking of Beast had tightened Alissa's sense of unease. Her lower back gave a strong twinge, and

she slowed, wishing she knew how to tell time. It didn't make sense that the hours shifted independent of

the sun. Moving as fast as her back would allow, she turned a corner and came to a dismayed halt. Not

only was Useless at the firepit, but he had already lit the fire.

The Master straightened at the sound of her approach, his white eyebrows rising in question. Alissa

tossed her tangled hair from her eyes and sedately continued down the path with a false nonchalance. At

least he was in his human shift. Trying to reason with him when he was a raku was impossible.

"Alissa?" came his clipped accent. He sounded puzzled, not annoyed as she had feared.

"Good evening, Useless," she said meekly.

"You're early tonight."

"Early?" Her head came up. "Lodesh said I was late!"

Her teacher's expression went from amusement to bother. "Then you probably are," he amended,

frowning in what she recognized as irritation at himself, not her. Apparently Useless had the same

problem as she when it came to time. Perhaps, she mused, stepping down into the bench-lined pit

surrounding the fire, it had something to do with how their minds were laid out.

Useless held his comments to a grimace as he took in her Keeper attire. He made a great show of

shaking out his long Master's vest. It was the color of ripe wheat and went all the way to the ground,

giving her the impression of a sleeveless robe. Having it bound tightly about his waist with a black scarf

only strengthened the image. Peeping from under the vest were trousers and a wide-sleeved tunic.

Though of a simple cut and pattern, the fabric was of a quality that had never made it to her foothills

home, being tight of weave and even of color.

The Master had no beard and kept his hair cropped close to his skull—to hide the whiteness of it,

Lodesh had once said in jest. He was as tall as Strell and nearly as dark, with a ramrod stiffness about

him whether he was sitting or standing. Since he was quick to anger and even quicker to admit to a

mistake, keeping abreast of his moods was often a losing battle.

Though in his human shift, his eyes retained the unreal golden color characteristic of all Masters. His

hands, too, couldn't hide his raku origins and were abnormally long. Each finger had four segments

instead of the usual three. Alissa had long ago adjusted her thinking to see them as normal, but tonight her

gaze lingered on them as he reached for the teapot. Her fingers looked as they always had. Alissa

exhaled heavily. Even as a Master, she didn't quite fit in.

The stone benches built into the surrounding earth still held the day's warmth, and she settled to his

right, glad the night was dark enough to hide the scrape on her chin. She winced when she realized she

had forgotten the cups. Seeing it, Useless sighed, and with a tug on her awareness and a flash of

resonance across her tracings, two cups glazed a hideous brown materialized on the bench between

them. He silently poured the tea and handed her the first cup. Taking a sip, he grimaced and set it down.

"Lodesh's tea?" he asserted sourly.

Blinking, Alissa nodded. "How did you know?"

"He always wards the water to boiling. The kettle never warms sufficiently, so the leaves don't brew

properly."

She took a cautious sip. It tasted fine to her, but then, she wasn't over eight centuries old.

. Holding the cup to warm her hands, Alissa sat and tried not to fidget. As soon as she had stopped

moving, her back had begun to throb, all the way down to her rear. Clearly some of the mass for wings

came from that area, and she wondered what sort of mischief had managed that. She glanced nervously

at her teacher. How was she going to hide the tear until it healed?

Useless shook his head at some private thought and drained his cup. Lodesh's brew or not, he was

still apparently going to drink it. He adjusted his vest over his spare frame, and his slippered feet

withdrew underneath him to sit cross-legged upon the bench. Alissa's breath quickened. He was ready to

teach.

"This morning," he began, "I explained the theory behind line tripping. Tell it to me."

She sat straighter, frowning at the ache in her back. The stone bench wasn't helping. "Sending your

thoughts to the past is reexperiencing a memory, be it yours or someone else's gifted to you. There's no

way to change it because the threads have already been tightened. You're not so much reliving the past

as seeing one person's view of it."

"Excellent," Useless praised. "The difference is subtle but tantamount to success."

"You mean you're going to let me try tonight!"

Useless chuckled, hiding his smile behind a hastily raised cup. "No-o-o," he drawled, and she

collapsed against the back of the bench, straightening as a rush of pain shot through her. It was getting

worse. "But I'll explain how it's done," he continued. "You should be decades along in your studies

before learning this, not years. Seeing as you've been among the lines last fall, it would be prudent to

present it to you now." He frowned. "Before you decide you can figure it out by yourself."

Grimacing at the slight jibe, Alissa shifted uncomfortably and sipped her tea. Perhaps she could risk

complaining of a minor pain. Useless might run a ward of healing for her, clearing everything up with him

never knowing the difference. She would have done it herself, but she hadn't been given permission to

work the complex ward without supervision.

"Finding and fixing a memory in your thoughts is the first step," Useless said. "But it's an important

one. Engage the ward before that, and you'll slip into a long, unproductive sleep. There're several

methods to fix a memory. The easiest is to use one of your own." He looked up as she fidgeted. "The

second is to be gifted one by another. The third is to use a septhama point." He leaned to top off his cup.

She thought about that. The word septhama was familiar, but she couldn't see how it related.

Septhamas were a blessedly rare group of individuals whose tracings were almost complex enough to

make Keeper but had been malformed. Usually stemming from Keeper parents, they had the ability to do

one thing, and one thing only. And even that was rather pointless. "I give up," she finally said.

Useless didn't even try to hide his smile. "You're aware septhamas can modify the pattern—the flow

of psychic energy imprinted after a tragedy—so as to make the corresponding physical manifestation of

such energy more pleasing to the general populace?"

Alissa nodded, finding slight relief as she leaned to adjust the fire. Why didn't he just say they got rid

of ghosts?

"Well, a septhama point is that stored energy, which in this case functions like a memory residing in a

place or a thing." He hesitated. "Or more rarely, a person."

Her gaze went distant, recalling that Strell's broken pipe had such a memory on it. Rising, she went to

the opposite side of the fire to nudge back a stick she had intentionally pushed out.

"What are you doing?" Useless asked in wonder. "I've never seen anyone so reluctant to sit still since

I—" His voice cut off. Arms clasped about herself, Alissa glanced up to find her teacher's lips pursed and

his eyes knowing. "You damaged your tail," he said.

Panic mixed with shame, and she looked away. He would be so angry! "Uh, no," she warbled.

"Your wing, then?" he guessed, and she nodded, cringing at his heavy sigh.

"I'm fine," she said, returning to her spot and sitting on the edge of the bench. The pain swelled, and

she reluctantly got to her feet.

"You were sporting in the heavy updrafts behind the Hold again, weren't you," he said, though it really

wasn't a question. "I told you to be careful. Do you know how many young rakus have ended up at the

bottom of that rock face?"

She said nothing, content to let him believe what he wanted.

"You're the only one left, Alissa," he lectured gently. "You must be more careful. Why do you think

I've been teaching you what only an experienced Master should know? I'm not going to last much longer,

and I won't let a millennium of study die with me."

"Useless," she cajoled, not liking to hear him speak like that. His eyes meeting hers were full of a

patient understanding, surprising her.

Dawn Cook - Truth 03 - Forgotten Truth

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