The Wild Road Read Online Free PDF

could unmake those like him, like Ferize. Being killed was one thing, but being unmade —? A shudder coursed through his body. He wasted no more time on suppositions but departed the chamber. Time he returned to Rhuan, and to the human world.
    Five more years, as the humans gauged time. While it no doubt displeased Brodhi, and thus Ferize, it was not anything Rhuan would consider a punishment, but in fact a reprieve.

Chapter 2
    I LONA. ALIVE .
    Jorda literally fell back a stride from the steps. Bethid felt her own mouth drop open inelegantly, and a shiver ran down her spine. She heard Mikal murmuring a fervent prayer to the Mother of Moons, fingering the string of charms at his throat.
    Ilona still wore the plain linen burial shift Bethid and Naiya had put on her the night before. Her dark hair was loose of the single braid, reverting to the exuberant array of long ringlets usually tamed by being wound against the back of the hand-reader’s skull and anchored with ornamented hair sticks. Her olive complexion was smooth and clear, hazel eyes warm and bright and most definitely alive, but encircling her throat was the unmistakable print of a large man’s hand.
    She had been dead. She had been dead.
    â€œI wasn’t dead,” Ilona said. “Or . . .” An odd expression passed over her features. “Or I was dead, but I’m not now. It’s—” She broke off, making a gesture of helplessness. “I’m sorry . . .” She turned her head. “Rhuan—? Can you explain? I’m not sure Iunderstand everything yet!”
    Jorda’s voice sounded strangled. “Ilona.”
    â€œYes, it’s me. Rhuan? Please, before they all drop dead of shock!” Then Ilona gestured apology, making a face. “Poor choice of words, wasn’t it? Well . . .” Barefoot, she descended the steps and stood on the ground, making room for Rhuan to exit the wagon. Her eyes were worried, Bethid saw; tension crept into Ilona’s expression and posture.
    Bethid’s words came out completely different from what she had intended. “This isn’t possible. You were dead .”
    â€œIlona,” Jorda repeated. “By the Mother, girl, your neck was broken! D’ye think I don’t know death when I see it? When it’s in my arms?” He looked at Rhuan. “I would never tell you she was dead if she were not. Do you think I would? Do you think I could?”
    Rhuan descended and sat down upon the middle step, resting elbows on thighs. Hands dangled loosely. “No,” he said. “No, Jorda, you would not. You told me the truth last night.” His eyes swept them all. “She was truly dead when I came here last night . . . as Shoia are before they—before we —resurrect.”
    â€œShoia!” Mikal blurted.
    Bethid began blankly, “But Ilona’s not Sh—” She paused. “Is she?” She looked at the hand-reader. “Are you?”
    Rhuan smiled wryly. “Have you another explanation?”
    â€œI didn’t know,” Ilona said, drifting close to Rhuan. “What do any of us know about the Shoia?”
    â€œRhuan might know something,” Jorda said mildly, “being as how he is, after all, Shoia himself.”
    Rhuan and Ilona exchanged a brief, sidelong glance that was quickly banished. Bethid abruptly had a very clear memory of Ilona telling her that Brodhi wasn’t Shoia at all, but Alisanos-born; it was a short step from that to the realization that Rhuan was as well. And yet obviously, here and now, he supported the fiction that he was Shoia. But—Ilona? She was Shoia?
    The hand-reader shrugged. “Then Rhuan must be correct. He would know, of course, as you say.” She met Jorda’s gaze. “I remember nothing. Not after Alario threw me down. That moment, yes, I recall it clearly; and then I awoke in my cot with Rhuan muttering at