WarDance (Chronicles of the Warlands #5)(50)

“How do you know I don’t?” Simus asked.

“You were tested,” Snowfall said. “At your Rite of Ascension. All of the Plains are tested, and those with the gifts were taken as warrior-priests. No matter how strong or weak the gift within the person.” She drew a deep breath. “In the past, the young were given no choice. Recently, Wild Winds was giving those with weaker gifts a choice. Your Ouse of the Fox is one such.” Simus raised an eyebrow as she continued on. “Night Clouds follows Wild Winds’s ways. He gave him a choice, and he chose to be a warrior.”

“What powers do you have?” Simus leaned forward. “Healing, as the warrior-priests have always claimed?”

Snowfall shook her head. “Maybe in the past,” she said. “But our ability to heal is limited. Certain plants that help with fever. Dried mushrooms that deaden pain.”

“Purple smoke,” Simus snorted.

“A special mixture of dried grasses and mushrooms,” Snowfall nodded seriously. “It confuses the senses. But the chants, the rites that were used? They seemed to have little effect.” Snowfall hesitated. “That may no longer be the case. Wild Winds was cured of a wasting disease on the night of the Sacrifice. And I was told that the Sacrifice healed his Token-bearer of a broken leg with his power. But how? I cannot say.”

“Cannot say?” Simus’s question was hard and sharp.

“I mean, I do not know,” Snowfall lowered her eyes. “It is harder than I thought to tell these truths to an outsider,”

Simus huffed out a breath. “Joden will want to pry your head open and learn all your secrets.”

“Wild Winds says we no longer have any.” Snowfall lifted her head. “I am to tell all, as you command. Some will believe, he says. Some will not. Either way, truths told will serve us better then secrets have in the past.”

Simus waited, silently. It took her a moment to realize she had not answered his question.

“I am not so powerful as Wild Winds,” she admitted. “I can conceal myself from sight, as I did in the grasses,” Snowfall kept her gaze on his, that he might know she spoke the truth. “I have a gift for using the element of fire, and can use it as a weapon. I can send messages.”

“Messages?” Simus perked up. “And get a response?”

“As if we are talking in the same place,” Snowfall said proudly. “But only if I have a kind of token from that person. Something that links us.” She nodded toward the piece of silk. “That was a gift from Wild Winds.”

“So if Keir had a token—” Simus started.

“And one of us at his side,” Snowfall finished for him. “You could talk to him as if he was in the same room. But there is a risk,” she confessed. “I am exposed when I do that, and the message can be overheard.”

“A warrior-priest at Keir’s side.” Simus snorted. “Maybe when ehats fly.”

“It may be possible, with the power that now resides in the Plains, to send a message without a warrior-priest to receive it,” Snowfall suggested. “But I have not tried, and will not, not without your permission.” She hesitated, not quite sure how to explain the next part.

Simus waited silently.

“There is a new gift,” she said slowly. “One that only appeared to Wild Winds and myself recently. He thinks it is a kind of foreseeing, but...” She let her voice fade away as she thought on her next words.

Simus was still, those dark eyes watching her.

“It is no more than a feeling, of apprehension, that something is coming,” she said. “A looming threat of danger over the horizon.”

“Is it specific?” Simus asked. “To a person? Or an event?”

“No,” Snowfall said, and some of her frustration must have carried through her voice, because Simus’s eyes crinkled in sympathy. “I have tried,” she said. “To probe for more, but there is only this lingering feeling. Wild Winds says that there was a time when those with the gift could see the future. But that knowledge is lost to us.” She shook her head. “The vagueness is not helpful.”

“A warrior heeds every warning,” Simus said. “Even if it’s just a gut feeling.” He took a sip of his kavage. “My warriors are already on alert. But if that feeling becomes more, tell me.” He tilted his head to the side. “How hard will it be, to not use your powers except with my consent?”

Snowfall shook her head. “Not hard. Remember that the power has been scarce, and we were trained to conserve. I have never used it with abandon. I would ask, however—” She hesitated, then plunged on. “I would ask that you lift the restriction upon me if needed for your protection.” Snowfall dropped her eyes. “We—I—have staked much on your success. If you should fall—”




Simus considered her suggestion, as he considered her.

How far could he trust her? Trust a warrior-priestess? No matter that she had sworn her oaths; oaths had been shattered before, with no formal recession and no warning.

Yet, there was something there. For all that Snowfall held her emotions inside, there was an honesty to her truth.

He’d trust, until his trust was betrayed.

Simus gave her a half-smile and shook his head. “In battle, I would never instruct a warrior not to use any weapon at hand. But this is not a normal battle. You mean well, Snowfall, but the risk is too great. We tread a new path here, and there are those that would use any excuse against you—against me—to deny the change we bring. My restrictions stand.” Simus hesitated. “Do you need to use your powers to receive a message from anyone?”