The Singers of Nevya Read Free Page B

understand.”
    “We’ll be at the House tomorrow, just after midday,” Rollie said. “If the Spirit allows.”
    “I see.” Sira tucked her filla into her tunic and smoothed her bedfurs. But you can attend the quirunha , can you not?”
    Rollie’s tanned face changed subtly. “It’s not my custom.”
    “But at Conservatory, even the Housemen and women hear the quirunha .”
    “Things will no doubt be different at Bariken from what you’re used to, Cantrix,” Rollie said gently.
    “But I would like you to attend,” Sira said. “I know no one else there.”
    Rollie looked out beyond the quiru into the deepening dusk. “I’ll be around,” she said. “If you want me, just tell that Housekeeper. He’ll send for me. But he won’t like it.”
    Sira wanted to know more, but with Conservatory courtesy, she did not press. Rollie went to the fire for Sira’s tea and keftet . As the riders began the meal, the silence was broken only by the gentle crackling of the little fire.
    In the quiet, Sira’s sensitive ears picked up a sound. “Rollie!” she called softly. “There is someone approaching.”
    “Not likely, Cantrix.” Rollie stared out past the quiru , listening, then shook her head. “Why do you think so?”
    “I hear it!” Sira turned toward the direction of the sound. “Out there, up the hill. Hruss .”
    “Blane!” Rollie called. “I don’t hear it, but the Cantrix says there are hruss up on the hill.” She pointed.
    Blane stood up. Hruss could survive in the deep cold, but if there was a person there, leaving him or her in the lethal darkness was unthinkable. “We’ll go see,” he said. “I’ll take Chan.” The other man was already beside him. They pulled on their heavy furs, and plunged out of the quiru into the blackness beyond.
    Sira stood with her head bowed, listening to their progress up the hill. To send people out of the safety of the quiru was a serious thing. Following them with her ears, she opened her mind as well. She sensed fear, and sadness, a man lost out there in the freezing dark.
    Those in the quiru did not have to wait long. The sounds from the hillside grew until everyone could hear them. As they watched, Blane and Chan led two hruss into the warmth and light of the campsite. A man clung to the stirrup of one saddle, stumbling as he came into the quiru , falling clumsily to his knees as his strength suddenly failed him.
    Blane crouched beside him and dropped an extra fur over his shoulders. “Take your time,” he said quietly. Everyone in the quiru was silent, stunned by awareness that the stranger had been within heartbeats of freezing to death.
    The man’s hruss were still outside the circle of quiru light. Ice hung from the long hair under their chins, and clogged their forelocks. Sira pulled her filla out of her tunic and played briefly until the quiru swelled, its warmth and light expanding to include the half-frozen animals.
    The stranger turned, stiffly, to see who was playing.
    Blane said, “This is a party from Bariken. I’m the guide.”
    There was a long silence, and Sira could see the man’s lips and face were too cold to move. At length he mumbled, “Devid,” through still-rigid lips. He managed his House name, “Perl”, then fell silent again. They all waited for his circulation to return. Every Nevyan knew it was a slow and painful process.
    At length he gave a ragged sigh. “My Singer . . .” he struggled to say. His pain was unmistakable through the shield of Sira’s mind. “My mate. She died last night.”
    Chan brought the man’s bedfurs from his saddle, and helped him to sit down. Devid pulled his hood back, uncovering a lined, weatherbeaten face and graying hair. “She was ill.” Another pause. “We were going to Conservatory for help.”
    Rollie had built up the fire, and now she pressed a cup of hot tea into Devid’s icy hands.
    “We’re bringing our new Cantrix to Bariken,” Blane told him, with a nod in Sira’s