Daughter of Ice and Fire

Thirty-Seven

"So, the things you saw while scrying are related to what you found at Swanhaven? The ship, the wagon, the prison, all of it?"

Kisari bent down and snipped off a withered flower. Tucking it in her basket, she continued walking, leaves rustling under her feet. The mountains were a riot of color and she paused, once again glad she was Gypshen and could enjoy sights like this.

"I believe so, although I can't be sure. I don't know what it means or how they're related, though." She shrugged and started walking again, listening to the mooing of the cows as they were led to the lower slopes for the winter. The sheep would come down later and she wondered if she would be around for the shearing. It wasn't the most pleasant work, but she enjoyed the camaraderie. It was one of the few times the tribe treated her as an equal and she could pretend, if only for a little while, that she was just another woman, gossiping about the men and the children without worrying about anything else. Sighing, she continued, eyes scanning the ground for more withered flowers.

Vishenka frowned as he tried to connect the different visions. Frustrated, he threw up his hands in disgust. "Why do the spirits make everything so difficult?"

Kisari laughed. "Because, my dear cousin, if they told us instead of making us work for it, it wouldn't be any fun for them."

"Pah," he spat. "They may think this some grand game but I don't."

Kisari sobered. "Nor do I. But the Gods and Goddesses gave us free will. Telling us what to do takes the choice away from us. Instead, they give us hints and let us figure it out for ourselves." Snip and another flower went into the basket.

"But what if we choose wrong? You would think they wouldn't want that."

"Whichever way we choose, it's still our choice. Only the Gods and Goddesses know exactly what they want. It's not up to us to figure out their lives for them."

Vishenka went silent. Kisari usually enjoyed theological discussions with him but today, she preferred not to debate what the Gods and Goddesses wanted from humans. The visions she'd had still plagued her and while she had discussed many with her cousin, she hadn't discussed them all.

The pair walked in companionable silence for a while, Kisari stopping every now and then to snip a dead flower. Her basket was almost full, which meant it was time to turn back but she found herself reluctant to do so. It was a glorious day, a rare treat this time of year, and she wanted to make the most of it. Especially if she was headed back to Kaladhin. While she loved the city itself, she could do without the unrelenting heat to be found in the Wastes.

"Where do you think the hair came from?" Vishenka asked suddenly, catching her off guard. She had told him about it but omitted both the color and the fact it had been covered in Foulsbane.

"I, I'm not sure," she stammered, worried about where this was going. She had never lied to Vishenka and wasn't about to do so now. But keeping things from him wasn't lying and she fervently hoped he wouldn't probe further.

Vishenka clasped his hands behind his back and stared across the mountains. "Here's what I think," he said. "I think you didn't tell me everything. Why, I don't know. But I think there's more to this hair than what you let on. I also think it's somehow related to what the evil was seeking in Swanhaven."

Kisari's stomach sank. She sighed inwardly and remained quiet. Vishenka stopped, turning and stepping in front of her.

"What haven't you told me, cousin?"