Even if not,
even if she were genuine,
and Yu made it to them,
reached them,
even if they took him in
and allowed him to travel with them —
What then?
What if the raider-guards followed?
What if Harrow came after him?
What if the wizards tracked him down?
The ker and the witch were two.
Only two.
A ker, but a young one.
No wizard to protect them.
Only the witch and her familiar,
and that pulse-defence
— reactive, surely limited.
No. Yu could not imagine her standing against Imbiad and Fallem together and emerging unbroken. Witches could conceal much, yes; faces, intention, the true shape of their power — but how strong could she really be, if the guards had made her turn back? If she had possessed enough of it, she would not have complied, and they would not have dared.
And why would she risk anything for Yu?
What was her plan, anyway?
Where would she and the ker go, if not to the Barnstreams? As far as Yu understood it, the guild was the only passage through the Datan; not merely a building, but a tunnel carved through the mountain, a controlled breach through an otherwise impassable mass of stone.
Distantly, somewhere in the middle of these thoughts,
Yu realised, that his breathing had steadied.
He rose and returned to the bed. Still wrapped in the blanket, he sat and gathered the thick fabric across his legs, then leaned forward until his chest pressed into the bundled weight. The posture made breathing harder, just enough to slow him.
More controlled now,
Yu began
his void breathing.
.
.
.
As he did,
he stared
at the stone
between his talons,
focussing on the
pressure he felt,
on the contact,
the resistance
as his lungs
drew in
and then
pushed out
the air.
.
.
.
In.
Out.
Hold.
.
.
.
Not calm,
but contained.
.
.
.
For now
it was good.
.
.
.
It was good
to feel
the rhythm of it.
.
.
.
Even if not,
even if she were genuine,
and Yu made it to them,
reached them,
even if they
took him in
and allowed him
to travel with them —
What then?
What if
the raider-guards
followed? What if
Harrow
came after him?
What if
the wizards
tracked him down?
The ker
and the witch
were two.
Only two.
A ker, but
a young one.
No wizard
to protect them.
Only the witch
and her familiar
and that pulse-defence
— reactive, surely limited.
No.
Yu could not imagine
her standing against Imbiad and Fallem together and emerging unbroken. Witches could conceal much, yes;
faces,
intention,
the true shape
of their power —
but how strong could she really be, if the guards had made her turn back?
If she had possessed enough of it, she would not have complied, and they would not have dared.
And why
would she
risk anything
for Yu?
What was
her plan,
anyway?
Where would she
and the ker go,
if not to the Barnstreams?
As far as Yu understood it, the guild was the only passage through the Datan; not merely a building, but a tunnel carved through the mountain, a controlled breach through an otherwise impassable mass of stone.
Distantly,
somewhere in the middle
of these thoughts,
Yu realised,
that his breathing
had steadied.
He rose and returned to the bed. Still wrapped in the blanket, he sat and gathered the thick fabric across his legs, then leaned forward until his chest pressed into the bundled weight. The posture made breathing harder, just enough to slow him. More controlled now,
Yu began his
void breathing.
.
.
.
As he did,
he stared
at the stone
between his talons,
focussing on the
pressure he felt,
on the contact,
the resistance
as his lungs
drew in
and then
pushed out
the air.
.
.
.
In.
Out.
Hold.
.
.
.
Not calm,
but contained.
.
.
.
For now
it was good.
.
.
.
It was good
to feel
the rhythm of it.
.
.
.
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