Tarashana Rachel Neumeier (top 10 motivational books TXT) 📖

not lost to the black tide. I realize that might make his situation different. But perhaps ...”

That caught my attention. I had not thought of anything of the kind. Inhejeriel stood huddled in her coat. She was not looking down toward the place the tiger had gone, but up, toward the still-distant peaks of Talal Sabero. She flinched a little when Aras spoke to her, as though startled to be addressed, but then met his gaze. She said, Once a man’s star has taken him up, it is wrong to ask the world to remember him. But if the shadow of the black tide took him, then yes. The shadow is close, and it falls through all the layers of the world, and it is greedy. It reaches out to take everything it can. But I do not know whether he fell into the shadow of the tide or into the place your people should go or—or somewhere else, a different place.

“But it is possible.”

Perhaps, perhaps it may be so. I will try. Tell me his name, show him to me in your mind, and I will remember him, I will give his name to the stars, I will ask that he be remembered to the world.

“Geras Lan Karenasen,” Aras said, his voice very quiet. “Thank you. Even if you cannot do it, I would appreciate the attempt.”

I had not known his full name. I had never even wondered. He had been a good troop leader, a man who took every responsibility seriously, a man everyone respected. He had been kind to an Ugaro warrior captive among his people, even when nothing had required such kindness. He had been married to a woman named Aedani; he had three children—at least three. That was what I knew. He must have had other family, but I knew nothing of them. This seemed strange and uncomfortable to me now. I could never know an Ugaro man so well and yet know so little of him.

I said, “I will go down and send up the packs. Iro, watch carefully. Everyone, please watch carefully.”

“Yes,” Iro said, not arguing.

After so much fear had driven us up the cliff, going down again was a trivial task. The tiger did not return. He had no reason to return, now. I went down and tied each pack in turn to the rope, waited for these to be drawn upward, then climbed up again myself. Then we went on.

 -18-

Once we were past the cliff, the ridge broadened, running at an easy angle almost directly toward Talal Sabero. Also toward the disturbing shadow of the dark tide, which seemed much lower and closer now, engulfing some of the sky and some of the stone. Everything around that shadow of emptiness seemed distorted. It seemed to me like the absence of the world itself. If a man stood at the very edge of the world and looked out, then the darkness in front of him, where there was nothing at all, might be like that.

I was tired and disheartened and thinking many disquieting thoughts.

“I don’t think so, Ryo,” Aras said. “Our scholars believe there is no edge, not in the way a person would understand the term.”

“That may be so,” I said. I was not very interested in the arguments of Lau scholars.

Etta, walking close to us, asked, “How could there be no edge to the world? Nothing mortal goes on forever.”

“I truly have no idea. It’s not a subject I’ve ever considered deeply.” Aras was breathing deeply and slowly; tired with the long effort of the climb. I thought he had spoken at all because he wanted to think of something besides his own weariness. Of the two packs we still possessed, Iro had taken the heavier and Aras the lighter, so that I could carry Inhejeriel. But the lighter pack was enough of a burden for a Lau.

Inhejeriel was tired too. She had not complained—she never complained—but she could not have kept on, not past the cliff. I carried her like a child, on my back, with her arms around my neck. We had come much higher by this time, far too high for meadows or any comfortable places to rest. I felt that Inhejeriel could not go much farther, even if she were carried. She was shivering continually, and sometimes her arms loosened around my shoulders so that if I had not caught her arms, she might have fallen. Everyone was very weary, thought it was impossible to tell how many hands of time might have passed. Perhaps days had passed; as the Moon and the stars were not following their accustomed paths in the sky, I could not judge. When we came to a place where the surrounding cliffs provided decent shelter from the wind, I called out to Iro. He turned at once, nodding, dropping his pack.

Etta, who had been carrying nothing save a light pack slung over her shoulder, moved at once to take out some of our scant fuel. Aras lit the fire, with a weary, absent glance. Although no Ugaro could truly appreciate such cantrips, Etta nodded and put water to heat for a tisane, then began to take travel sticks out of the pack. I set Inhejeriel down, stretched, and sat down with my back against the cliff, letting my sister do the small tasks necessary to make everyone as comfortable as possible. Turning, I watched the empty shadow of the dark tide. Truly, it seemed very close now, though I could not tell whether any part of it lay directly in our path.

Aras straightened suddenly, then got quickly to his feet. His expression was intent, as though he listened to something no one else could hear. I jumped up, drawing my sword—Iro was on his feet an instant after I was—but Aras held up a hand, saying quickly, “Ryo, no, it’s—”

Suyet