Heir of Scars I: Parts 1-8 Read Online Free PDF Page A

getting old. He didn’t wear it as other men his age might, it was true, and she had no doubt few could guess his weight in years. But his eyes, and the way he stood, and the set of his shoulders…. Preinon held seasons of snow and sun, of blood and fire.
    Huddled below him in her furs, she felt truly a child again — not only from the shame she had worn all night and all day, but from the will to please him, to please all of them. Her eyes began to tear, and there was not enough smoke to blame.
    “ I have heard what you say, Atutéko , and your words are the truth ,“ she whispered. “ Still, Today I failed us.”
    He shifted above her, and when she glanced just a little to his face, he nodded. Not like a disappointed father, but as a teacher who knew her better than this one regrettable moment. “ Today you made a mistake. That is all. Today you walked two webs at once .”
    “At’e so wateme choacho, tegoni wateme watemeio thhúksho,” Adria nodded.
    “The divided mind can only defeat itself,” he translated, smiling grimly. It was a phrase they had traded more than once.
    Adria sighed, then smiled a little to match his. “You know, for a people who write nothing down, the Aesidhe remember far too many sayings.”
    Preinon chuckled. “They remember because they don’t write anything down. They don’t have a choice…. they can only remember or forget.”
    “Is there a saying for that?”
    “Probably,” Preinon laughed. “I can’t remember….”
    Adria laughed, finally, as well. He met her gaze a moment, and his smile warmed even her colder side. “Mélitali taina-gi chete óhi.” He held her shoulder a moment, then gave it a gentle shake. Sleep and dream well, Chosen Child.
    With her own hand she made a sign of familiarity, of resignation to a beloved elder. “Zho kónegi tagli, tegoni zho at’esa apte.” As you ask, My Good Friend.
    The skies were still clear as she bundled herself wholly inside her furs. She could see stars through the break in the canopy above, and they seemed especially bright to her, as they often did in the winter sky. The other Runners were stilling as well — those who were not already on watch.
    Chasebatu, in a bed roll not far from Adria, began to sing an Aesidhe hymn to the stars. A few of the others took it up here and there, and Adria found herself mouthing the words by the time it was finished.
     
    Zho lemaskisiya shnalo makch’oyi push’ewe.
    Zho shóli lulowiwela zheskisi-to p’o egmayuwela táwe,
    zho washemali-cheeche taináhe-to páo.
    Zho tainayapo mispawe.
    Zho washemáli chush’oio-haipe shóli-koali mispawe.
    Chatechoku at’e goniwe sni,
    wateko zhezazhuli ktaksaya limiyatowe chetewe.
    Wateli shémapao nuwe, tegoni wateli hozo nipshawe.
    Shóli zhuhiwizhu lulowiwela.
    Shóli lozhani p’o chatecho choachopo lolowela,
    tegoni zho lozhazhani limiyatowe tagli t’umno.
    Lemaskisiblaya zho zheoya oeyi gnu, áo zho chushi gonespa gnu,
    tegoni lemaskisinoya zho homilo bopi,
    tegoni zho hozo nipshawe, tegoni zho homilo push’ewe.
    Zho chushokaniya-at’oshe niptewe.
    Zho hoyapoe ashayuwe.
    Zho shóli-aípe lush’oya khhawe, tegoni zho chushokaniya khhawe.
    Zho chushogli tainaya-to p’o zhechush’onu homilo-hã khhamnawe.
    Cushopush’e-aiohhe zho sholibe chushonagle,
    tegoni zho zhelemulowe so chete t’úmno,
    tegoni wateko ina p’o taina p’o taináhe glo t’umno.

    I remember seven seasons of winter,
    watching the whirling of your patient dance,
    through which I rise into sleep.
    All these dreams I keep,
    I keep them by your light alone,
    for the Moon is of a changing mind,
    with the mood of a stormy lover,
    always touching and then wandering away.
    You dance more gently.
    You move with grace and confidence,
    an understanding beauty.
    There is time enough to smile and to weep,
    for a home I have left,
    to wander, to remember.
    I linger ever high.
    I wander ever far.
    I make lines below you, constellations.
    I weave a web of hope and of