Certain Symmetry Read Free Page B

her--will
ease her, if she wishes it. But I think she will choose instead to
honor her vow." She hesitated, caught by a rare feeling of
inadequacy.
    "I am sorry, Master Lute."
    "Sorry mends no breakage," Lute snapped.
Moonhawk felt a sharp retort rise to her tongue and managed, just,
to keep it behind her teeth. After all, she reminded herself, Lute,
too, had taken losses--not only Rowan, but Veverain, was gone
beyond him.
    "Your pardon, Lady Moonhawk," his voice was
formal, without the edge of irony that often accompanied his use of
her title. "That was ill-said of me. I find the Goddess entirely
too greedy, that She must always Call the best so soon. How are the
rest of us to find the way to grace, when our Rowans are snatched
away before their teaching is done?" He sighed.
    "But that is matter between myself and the
Goddess, not between you and I."
    Moonhawk inclined her head, accepting his
apology. "It is ...," she said formally, and bit down on the last
word before it escaped, silently cursing herself for fool.
    "Forgotten," Lute finished the phrase,
tiredly, and looked past her, up into the starry sky. "There must
be something," he murmured, and then said nothing more for several
minutes, his eyes on the clear glitter of stars, for all the world
as if he had entered trance.
    Finally, he shook himself, much as a Witch
might do when leaving trance, to re-acquaint herself with the
physical body. He brought his eyes down to her face.
    "I must try," he said, soberly. "Rowan would
want me to try." He extended a hand and touched her lightly on the
sleeve. "You are a Witch and have the ear of the Goddess. Now would
be a good time to pray."
    * * *
    VEVERAIN SAT AT the table where they had
left her, hands tucked around the empty tea cup, shoulders slumped.
Her eyes were closed, her cheeks shining with tears in the
lamplight.
    Seeing her thus, Lute paused, and Moonhawk
saw him bring his hands up and move them in one of his more
grandiose gestures, plucking a bright silk scarf from empty air.
Another pass and the scarf was gone. Lute took a breath.
    "There is something that may be attempted,"
he announced, and it was the Master Magician's full performance
voice now. "If you are willing to turn your hand to magic."
    Veverain opened her eyes, looking up at him.
"Magic?"
    "A very old and fragile magic," Lute assured
her solemnly. "It was taught me by my master, who had it from his,
who had it from his, who had it from the Mother of Huntress City
Temple herself. From Whose Hand the lady received the spell, we
need not ask. But!" He raised his hand, commanding attention. "For
this magic, as for any great magic, there is a price. Are you
willing to pay?"
    Veverain stared into his face. "I am," she
said, shockingly quiet.
    "Then let it begin!" Lute's hands carved the
air in the same eloquent gesture that had lately summoned the
scarf. Stepping forward, he placed an object on the table: a small,
extremely supple leather pouch. Moonhawk had seen thousands like it
in her life--a common spell-bag, made to be suspended from the neck
by a ribbon, or a leather cord.
    "Into this bag," he intoned, "will be placed
five items evocative of Rowan. No less than five, no more than
five." He stepped back and looked sternly into Veverain's face.
"You will choose the five."
    "Five?" she protested. "Rowan was
multitudes! Five--"
    "Five, a number beloved of the Goddess. No
more, no less." Lute was implacable. "Choose."
    Veverain pushed herself to her feet, her
eyes wide. "How long?" she whispered. "How long do I have to
choose?"
    "Five minutes to choose five items. Listen
to your heart and your choices will be true."
    For a moment, Moonhawk thought the other
woman would refuse, would crumple back onto the bench, hide her
face in her hands and wail. But Veverain had been woven of tougher
cord than that. She swayed a moment, but made a good recover, chin
up and showing a flash, perhaps, of the woman she had been.
    "Very well," she said to Lute. "Await me
here."