The Dreamtrails Read Online Free PDF Page B

continue running his orchards, as a cooperative venture. The fruit-bottling industry he had established was so successful that they had employed many Darthnor miners who could not work while the road to the smelters and west coast industries remained closed.
    “Are you hunting?” I asked politely.
    “You might call it hunting, if curiosity can be called a weapon and knowledge prey. I have been watching your people. I have been inside the mountain. The Beforetimers must have loved darkness to build in such a place, but what do your people seek there?”
    “Some of us are curious about the Beforetimers and how they lived,” I said, realizing that she must have explored the caverns when the teknoguilders were inside them. Given how little awareness the teknoguilders had of anything outside their studies, I was not the least bit surprised, but Garth would be horrified.
    “Why are you curious about us?” I asked.
    She shrugged. “It interests me that you survived when so many people wanted to kill you. I am interested in survival.” She glanced down at the memorial marker. “I suppose you know that Malik is not the sort to give up his hatred because of agreements and treaties. My brother and father were like him. Hatred ran through their veins like fire, devouring all else.”
    “I heard that they were killed trying to escape from the Councilfarm,” I said, uncertain whether to express sympathy, since it was known that Analivia’s brother and father had both mistreated her.
    But she merely said rather cryptically, “Hatred does not die so easily.” She looked around the cul-de-sac. “This is a pretty place to be marked by so much hatred and death.”
    “Marked?” I wondered if she was referring to the carved monument.
    She saw my confusion and said soberly, “I think that terrible happenings mark a place so whoever comes there after feels a kind of echo.”
    I said slowly, “Do you feel the mark of what happened here?”
    She did not answer, seeming suddenly distracted.
    “Will you come to the encampment with me?” I asked presently.
    She shook her head but said that she would walk some of the way back with me. I half expected her to interrogate me, but instead, as we walked, she told me about her life as a girl. Her father had bonded only for a son to inherit his properties and power. It soon became clear that Bergold, his firstborn son, was nothing like his sire, lacking Radost’s ruthless ambition and brute will. So Radost turned his attention to his second son, Moss; they were like two vipers in a nest. Only his desire to increase his properties and extend his area of influence had made Radost send Bergold and Moss to establish Councilfarms in the highlands. He had intended, in time, to weld the properties together as one, under his control, but the rebellion had ended his ambitions.
    “I am glad of the uprising,” she said. “I prayed for many years that the rebels would have the courage to do it.”
    “Not all Landfolk welcome the change,” I said mildly.
    She shrugged. “People fear that if the old ways come back, they will be punished for failing to oppose the usurpers. They have to learn not to be afraid. When the Council ruled, fearclogged the air like mist above a moor. You could not breathe without drawing it in.”
    Abruptly she stopped, and I saw the wagons. Analivia said goodbye and in the twinkling of an eye, she was gone. I tried to probe her but to no avail. I made my way toward the Teknoguild camp, wondering if the yellow-haired woman had learned to conceal her presence because of her childhood or whether she had a trace of Misfit ability. I was passing the second wagon when I noticed one of the soldierguards sitting up and gazing out. I stopped reluctantly to ask if he needed anything.
    “I was just thinking that it had been a peaceful wintertime.” He laughed humorlessly. “The truth is, I am uneasy about going back to the city. Everything will be changed, and I don’t suppose