Free Faces by E.C. Blake

and neither of them thought that a good idea until she had been trained.
    It was while the Lady was Healing the broken leg of the man who had tumbled down the slope that Mara found herself standing next to Hamil, leader of the Cadre.
Or top male of the human wolfpack
, she thought irreverently. He glanced sideways at her as she watched the Lady hurry down the trail to the fallen villager. “Is it true?” he said. “Do you have the same Gift as the Lady?”
    Mara looked at him, surprised. “Yes,” she said. “Did she tell you that?”
    â€œNo,” Hamil said. “But I was talking to Prince Chell about other matters, and that is what he said.” He turned his head to watch the Lady. “The Lady has made our lives better. Her magic has kept our village from starving, helped us build sturdier homes and buildings, given us a sacred space to practice our worship of the Great Ones. She moderates the weather and Heals our children and elderly. She helped us build the road you will travel tomorrow and the buildings of the town. We have much to thank her for.”
    â€œYou saved her when she found her way through the mountains,” Mara said. “She is only returning the favor.”
    â€œYes, of course,” Hamil said. “And she asks little enough in return.” For a moment he was silent. “I . . .” he began abruptly, then stopped. He took a deep breath. “I have things to attend to,” he said, and left her.
    Mara stared after him. What had he been about to say before he thought better of it?
    When she rejoined the Lady half an hour later, she thought about asking her more about her relationship with the villagers, and especially her Cadre, but she saw Hamil looking back at her, and something about his expression stopped her. He looked . . . apprehensive.
    She tucked the question away for later. There would be time to figure out the ins and outs of the village’s working once they’d actually reached it.
    For the rest of the descent, Mara stayed at the Lady’s side. She saw Keltan only once, as they made their way back into the column for the Lady to tend to yet another injury. He stood to the side and watched her pass, his gaze following her, but he made no move to join her or speak to her, and she pressed her lips together and kept her own eyes resolutely forward. When they returned to the front of the column, she didn’t see him at all.
    She did see Chell, staring at her and the Lady from a distance. He looked unhappy. She almost regretted her sharp words in the tent the night before. He really had been a friend to her on the terrible journey north after the death of her father. She could never have made that trip on her own. Yes, he had wanted her help . . . but he had helped her without any guarantee that it would be forthcoming.
    She hardened her heart and turned her head away. Whatever his motivations, that journey, and their companionship, lay in the past. She intended to focus on the future.
    The sun that had been before them when they looked down into the valley swung overhead and then, early in the afternoon, slipped behind the massive ridge they had climbed the day before and were now descending, plunging them into twilight that made the descent slower and more treacherous still. But it was over at last, and a pleasant surprise awaited at the bottom of the hill: warm longhouses like those they had enjoyed on their first night inland. They glowed with light, and the smell of smoke and roasting meat made Mara almost weep with relief and happiness after the long descent—and she knew full well she had been one of those who had suffered least.
    The food would be most welcome. All of them had been on short rations, little more than bread and water, hard cheese, and nuts and dried fruit: good trail rations, but not very filling. Mara heard her stomach growl and blushed, hoping the Lady hadn’t noticed.