The Wayfinder Read online

  Instantly Win had a Finding on Lady Kala. The black smoke billowed over him, but he didn’t hesitate. He plunged into the grasses, pushing them aside with his hands, trusting his Finding to keep him from bumping into anything. The Finding pulled him steadily south toward the worst of the fire.

  “Lady Kala!” Win called to her mentally over and over. Why didn’t she answer? Then he realized that the Finding wasn’t moving. Lady Kala was in the midst of the fire and she wasn’t moving!

  The Finding was sharper; he was getting close. A white-faced wolf appeared suddenly out of the black smoke and then disappeared just as quickly. The wolves were running, fleeing before the fire. Why wasn’t Lady Kala?

  Smoke stung Win’s throat. He coughed, gasping for fresh air. He pulled his shirt up over his mouth and tried to breathe through the wet cloth. He didn’t know if he felt smothered because he couldn’t breathe or because the Finding was so close. Now he heard the roar of the flames, snapping, crackling, gulping the grasslands. Before him lay a wall of fire, blistering hot. Win stopped, unsure of where to go.

  “Lady Kala!” The cry was curiously hollow, the thick black smoke burning up his words.

  The Finding drew him toward the flame. He shielded his face with his arm and took a tentative step. Then he knew with certainty: Lady Kala was on the other side of the flames. He could save her only by running straight through them.

  Fear gripped him, paralyzing him.

  His body would be charred to the bones if he tried to run through the wall of flame. He drew a ragged breath, and the smoke filled his lungs. He coughed again, bent over and shaking. He had only to turn and run away from the flame. No one would expect him to face the wall of flames to Find Lady Kala.

  But he expected himself to do it. Just as he had expected himself to leap to Zanna and save her. He had failed not Hazel, nor Eli, nor the Finders’ Guild; he had failed himself. Would he face his fears and try to save Lady Kala? Or would he turn and run—and prove that he was a coward? Coward. The word had hovered at the edge of his consciousness for the last weeks. He’d let Zanna die because he was a coward.

  The flames inched closer, hotter. He had to decide. He would rather die than live as a coward.

  Sparks were cascading around him as the fire crept closer. Squinting, he couldn’t tell if one place was any narrower than another, and the Finding led straight on.

  Win plunged into the flames.

  Part IV

  THE HEALING

  THE CLIFF

  Win gulped hot air and held his breath. Time stopped. The Finding drew him onward. There was only the running, the blazing grass, the burning need for air. He floated in the fire bath while his legs churned by themselves far below.

  The flames broke up, sputtered, then died back where the fire had already eaten all its fuel. Win gasped, sucking in scalding air. The hems of his trousers were burning, his hair was singed, and he thought his cheeks were blistered. But he was alive. He had made it!

  Where was Lady Kala?

  The prairie still smoldered, and Win’s sandals were scant protection from the heat. Dodging small patched of flames, he ran on tiptoe, following the Finding. He was still close enough to the flames that they lit up the area with an unearthly glow. His own shadow was long and jerky as he bounced back and forth from hot foot to hot foot.

  The Finding was smothering, but the smoke still hid the Tazi hound. He groped his way through the stench of burning fur. A gust of wind cleared a space, exposing heaps that lay motionless, like huge lumps of black coal. Win trembled, scared that he was too late. He clenched his teeth and called, “Lady Kala!”

  She had to be alive. Somehow she had to be alive.

  Then he realized there was still a Finding. If she had been dead, the Finding would have disappeared.

  He ran past two heaps to the third one. There were two beasts, dog or wolf, he couldn’t tell which. He shoved the top on off the lower one. In the dim firelight he recognized the wolf chieftain. Below him, protected from the worst of the flames, was—yes, oh, yes—it was Lady Kala! She was barely breathing, her hindquarters burned and blistered, but she was alive.

  Win put a hand on the wolf’s chest but felt no heartbeat. Had he deliberately thrown himself over Lady Kala to save her? Had he given his life to protect her? “Thank you!” Win whispered.

  He pulled her front legs out and twisted her around until she was clear of the wolf’s corpse. He unstrapped his skin of water and tried to squirt it into her mouth. “Lady Kala, wake up!”

  Water dribbled out of her mouth onto the hot black soil. Her heartbeat was slow and unsteady, and her breathing was shallow. The smoke would envelop them again soon. He had to get help for her. Where?

  Of course! Water from the Well of Life would heal her. Win gently slipped his arms under her and for once was proud of his wide chest and strong muscles. She was light in his arms as if her spirit had already flown away.

  Which way?

  Lady Kala’s body was badly burned, and she was in shock. She would die unless he found the Well.

  Win concentrated for a moment, and the Finding came strong and sure. He broke into an easy lope that he hoped wouldn’t jostle Lady Kala too much and that he hoped he could maintain. At first he dodged through patches of flames, but soon he came out past the line of fire. The Well of Life was several hours away. He must not falter; he must not be too late. He didn’t look down at the still form in his arms. His face was turned toward the Well, and he would not stop or swerve until he found it. Across the grasslands he sped, in a race for the life of the royal gazehound from the Jamila Kennels.

  The night passed in a blur. The electric storm continued to scatter lightning bolts across the black sky, but there was no rain. Only wind and clouds and lightning. In the occasional bursts of light, Win saw only grasses; no landmarks were visible. The Finding was a rudder that steered him toward the northwest. The last hour the storm clouds had finally thinned, and a few stars winked at him.

  Win knew little of the storm or the later stars. He barely knew the swish of the grass along his arms, the sweat trickling down his back, the incredible weightlessness of Lady Kala, and the ache of his blistered feet. All he saw, all he knew were the granite Well and the dormant waters that could heal Lady Kala. All he knew was the urgency of the quest.

  The sky grew lighter, and Win could now make out the silhouette of the grasses against the gray sky. the Finding was stronger. How much farther? It seemed that the grasses were thinner, patchier, maybe a bit shorter. He continued his steady lope as the sky grew brighter.

  The red dawning spread crimson light on twisted cedar trees that clung to the edge of a black granite cliff. Once Win would have agonized over how he could scale the cliff, but he had no time for worry. Instead he let the Finding pull him.

  Closer to the cliff the grasses thinned and gave way to small shrubs and a few scrub pines. Before him in the cliff face lay a narrow opening. Straight, smooth sides rose around him as the path slanted upward. Instead of leading straight up, it twisted and turned in switchbacks that slowed him. Urgency made Win break into a run on the straight parts and curse at the pace around corners. He was panting, and his mouth was parched from the night’s run. He longed for a drink of water, and the vision of the Well whetted his thirst. He came out of the tunnel-like path and hoped he was near the top. The path led on, though, this time along the cliff face itself, reminding Win of the way down into the Rift. The paths were still wide, and he had no time to be afraid of the heights. He had time only to run, to creep around a corner, to run again, back and forth, left, then right, following the switchbacks that led slowly up the cliff.

  Finally he came out on top. To the east the sky over the prairie was lit up with coral and pinks, tinged with black smoke. To the west a strip of black sand ran through a stand of stunted pines.

  “Not much longer,” he murmured to Lady Kala.

  For an answer her chest heaved up and down and made a horrible rattling noise. Then
she stopped breathing.

  THE QUESTION

  Win shook Lady Kala. “Breathe!”

  For a long moment there was just silence.

  “Breathe!” Win held his own breath.

  Then the Tazi hound drew a long, unsteady breath.

  Scared that once again he would be too late, Win bolted down the path.

  The path ran west for a hundred feet before turning straight north. Crippled, crooked pines hid the sun. The black sand was strewn with pinecones, pine needles and limbs broken in the winds from the night before. He sidestepped or leapt over the big pieces but pounded over everything else. The farther he ran,, the fewer pines there were, until he came to a bare circle of black, polished granite. Along the sides of the path were rows of black stones standing sentinel. Each towered nine feet high with an oval base that tapered into a sharp point. If Win stood between them, he would be able to touch two at once, a spacing of about four feet. He could see other rows of stones leading in toward the center from the east, west and north. Was the Well of Life at the center? He thought there was a circle of stones, but he couldn’t see what it was inside. Surely it was the Well of his vision.

  The circle was hushed, with no sounds of birds or insects in the stark, barren grandeur—as if any sound would be sacrilege. Win sank reverently to his knees and wanted to stay there, outside the circle of stones. But he hadn’t the luxury of waiting: Lady Kala’s breathing was worse, coming in irregular gasps. She couldn’t last much longer.

  He rose, heaving Lady Kala’s weight into a more comfortable position. He took a step between the stone guardians. Suddenly a high-pitched shriek split the air and a black shadow whirled overhead.

  “Why do you seek the Well of Life?” A flaming sword flashed before him, wielded by a figure whose face was hidden by a black-hooded robe. The sword’s handle was encrusted with glittering jewels: rubies, emeralds, diamonds, sapphires. The two-edged blade was razor-sharp, but it was the fire that scared Win the most. Blue flames licked the silver-white edges, blinding him. He couldn’t shield his eyes with his arms because he held Lady Kala. Instead he squeezed his eyes shut, whirled away, and stepped back out of the corridor of stone sentinels.

  He looked back. The black sentry and the flaming sword were gone. but Win knew they would be back if he set foot within the corridor.

  He tested the Finding. It led straight toward the center of the circle. He wondered if he could also try one of the other corridors. Maybe there was a sentry only here.

  He tramped through the black sand around the perimeter of the circle. His sandals made small squeaks, the only sound he heard. He licked his cracked lips. He was so close to the healing water. He was so thirsty.

  Win stood before the west corridor for a moment, gathering his courage. Should he dash through the black stones? Or just take one step and stop? He was afraid to try the dash, in case the sentry tried to strike him down with the flaming sword.

  He lifted his right leg and stepped gingerly within the shadows of the great stones. A high-pitched shriek split the air, and a black shadow whirled overhead.

  “Why do you seek the Well of Life?” asked the sentry. The flaming sword twisted and turned before him, parrying an unseen foe. Win tried to look away from the dazzling sword, but it filled his vision.

  “I seek healing for the Heartland which is plague-ridden.”

  “What payment do you bring?”

  Win froze, paralyzed by the question. “Payment? Like gold? I didn’t know payment was required. I have nothing.”

  “Begone!”

  A blast of hot wind blew him backward until he was outside the corridor. Then the sentry disappeared.

  THE PAYMENT

  Lady Kala was a featherweight in Win’s arms. He laid her on the sands and started pulling tiny burrs from her belly; her hair was covered with them. He pulled off a dozen, two dozen, but there were hundreds more.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve tried, but I’ve failed,” he whispered.

  She didn’t answer. Her chest barely moved. Was she still alive? He bent and laid his ear against her warm chest. For a moment he heard nothing. Then he heard a thin, thready beat, felt a weak shallow breath.

  He scooped her up once more, and this time he raced around the perimeter of the circle toward the north and the next corridor. The sentry must let him pass for her sake. His feet slipped in the sand, but he commanded his muscles to move. It was Lady Kala’s last chance.

  He stood before the glossy black stones, with his shoulders thrown back and his chin up. Defiantly he stepped into the corridor.

  A high-pitched shriek split the air, and a black shadow whirled overhead. “Why do you seek the Well of Life?” The flaming sword danced before him.

  Win lifted the Tazi hound and placed her gently in a patch of sunlight that shone between the black stones. “I seek healing for Lady Kala, royal gazehound of the Jamila Kennels.”

  “What payment do you bring?’

  “I don’t have money with me, but I’ll bring you bags of gold later. Look at her. She’ll die unless she reaches the Well.”

  “I care nothing for gold. Begone!”

  A blast of hot wind blew Win backward. “Wait, let me get Lady Kala!”

  The wind kicked up a swirl of sand, then picked up the Tazi. She skimmed across the top of the sand until she, too, was outside the sentinel stones.

  The sentry and the flaming sword disappeared.

  Win looked at the Well of Life in the center of the circle. So close! What was the right answer? Was there a right answer? What payment could he offer besides gold?

  His gaze was drawn to the east where the ball of the sun was halfway across the sky. The black stone was heating up quickly, and by noon walking on it would be painful, like the burned-out prairie. He licked his lips.

  He closed his eyes and saw the Well of his vision. Cool, clear water. He was so thirsty, so tired of the heavy, heavy weight of sorrow he carried, so tired of struggling—down the Rift wall, through the Rift itself, back up the Rift wall, through the Wolf Clan’s clutches, through the fire, across the prairie. Was there never an end to it?

  The Finding was sure and strong.

  Win carried Lady Kala toward the east corridor, the last one to try. Sweat dripped from his brow. His steps were unsteady. black sand stretched before him in a never-ending vision. Right foot, left foot. The Finding drew him onward.

  Cracked lips, salty blood, dry tongue. So thirsty. So tired. So hopeless.

  Finally Win stood before the east corridor. He laid Lady Kala on the sand, then stared at his grimy feet with unseeing eyes. Hopeless. He had let Zanna die. He had let Lady Kala die. He had let the Heartland die. His hand reached into this pocket, and he pulled out the white stone from Zanna’s cairn. His thumb ran around and around it in tiny circles.

  With the sun directly overhead, there were no shadows from the tall black stones, no place to hide. The Finding pulled his foot forward. A high-pitched shriek split the air, and a black shadow whirled overhead.

  “Why do you seek the Well of Life? The sentry was grim, the flaming sword hotter than the sun.

  A deep pain cut sharply into Win’s chest. Suddenly his nostrils were filled with the sweet, sweet smell of the Rift flowers. A cry broke from him. “Zanna! Where are you?”

  The sentinel stones echoed it back in a melodious cacophony. “Zanna!”

  Something inside Win broke. Great sobs welled up.

  The sentry repeated, “Why do you seek the Well of Life?

  “I seek healing for Lady Kala and the Heartland. And for myself.”

  “What payment do you bring?”

  Win’s fingers tightened on the white stone until his knuckles were white as bleached bones. “I have nothing to offer but my grieving heart. I seek healing for myself, yet I will gladly bear my sorrow if it will bring blessing to many.”

  “You would sacrifice your own happiness for Lady Kala and the Heartland?”

  “Yes.”

  “It wou
ld mean you could never drink the healing water yourself. Are you willing to bear your grief forever?” The words were deep and somber.

  “Yes.”

  “Your sacrifice is acceptable.” The flaming sword flashed brightly in the sun; then the sentry sheathed it. He pointed toward the Well of Life. “Take such healing as you Find there for your lady and for your land. In your sacrifice there will be both great sorrow and great joy.” Then the sentry disappeared.

  A soft breeze crooned out of the east, gently urging Win to move. He thrust the stone into his pocket. He scooped up Lady Kala, then stumbled down the corridor, trying to bow to each stone but at last simply running toward the Well. He dared not stop to check Lady Kala for a heartbeat. He lowered her gently into the quiet water. He scooped handfuls of the crystal-clear water and let it dribble over her grubby face. Was he too late?

  “Lady Kala,” he called, “can you hear me?”

  “Win?” The voice was weak, but it was definitely Lady Kala’s voice.

  Win gave a whoop! She was alive!

  THE PRAIRIE

  Win and Lady Kala spent a couple of hours beside the well, resting and gathering strength for the return trip. He shared Siv’s jerky with Lady Kala, but while she drank from the Well, he carefully drank from Siv’s leather skin.

  Win told her of his journey across the prairie and about the sentry. “I was afraid you would die.”

  “I did,” said Lady Kala. “I’m not the same as when I started the trip. But you didn’t say—why did the sentry finally let you in?”

  When she had heard, she said, “It is too high a price to pay!”

  “My sorrow is the only thing I had to offer.”

  Win carefully pulled burrs from her coat and finger-combed her once luxurious coat. While he groomed her, he forgot the white stone that still lay heavy in his pocket.

  Finally, she stirred and looked around. “We must go! Already we’ve waited too long. Prince Reynard awaits. Do you think the wolf cub could still be alive?”