Free Into the Dark Lands by Michelle Sagara West

carried.
    â€œShe is much like her mother. Little consideration for age or authority, but no knowledge whatsoever that she’s flouting it.”
    â€œThank you, Latham.” She nodded without breaking the uneven seal.
    He was surprised, but he knew a dismissal when it was given. Bowing, he left her standing amid the exotic plants that lived in perpetual summer.
    Only then did she lift the letter in trembling hands, gripping it as if it were a viper.
    So soon?
    With Latham gone, the need to appear completely strong deserted her. Her strongest desire was to destroy the letter, innocuous and innocent, in flame. Instead, she opened it.
    Â 
    â€œGrandfather.” Telvar substituted a nod for the more formal bow he might have given in other circumstances—any other circumstance, in fact, than lessons in the drill circle.
    The Grandfather smiled quietly. It still unsettled him, at times, to receive such a gesture from Telvar; Telvar was by a good many years the elder of the two—and in his youth, the Grandfather had been one of his students.
    He felt a little like one now, as he stood by the weaponsmaster’s side and watched his line-children in the drill circle.
    â€œErin,” Telvar said, before the Grandfather could ask. “And Dannen. The two best in my class. You chose a good moment to come.” He frowned. “Dannen is more solidly grounded than Erin, but Erin’s fast. Light.”
    The Grandfather nodded.
    â€œAnd it’s strange, Grandfather,” Telvar continued, folding his arms behind his back, “Erin is Kerlinda’s child in more ways than one.”
    â€œYes,” the younger man replied quietly. “She has the
strongest healing blood the line has seen—or will see, if I guess correctly.”
    â€œHealers aren’t usually sent to me.”
    â€œNo.”
    Telvar heard more in the one word than the Grandfather cared to speak. He nodded brusquely, which was the way he did everything. “You wish to speak with her?”
    â€œIf I’m not interrupting anything.”
    â€œErin!”
    The smaller figure in the circle dodged, leaped, and rolled in one smooth motion that brought her outside of the drill range. Dannen’s blade skittered off the periphery.
    â€œTelvar,” the Grandfather said, before Erin reached them, “is she good?”
    â€œVery. But she isn’t adult yet, Serdon.”
    â€œI know.” The lines of his face etched themselves into a smile.
    â€œGrandfather?” Erin gave a sweaty bow. Telvar held out a hand, and she gave him her sword almost thankfully.
    â€œErin. I see you’ve taken well to lessons with the weaponsmaster.”
    She glanced around quickly to see if Telvar was still listening. Apparently not; he had already started his long stride to where Dannen stood panting.
    â€œAs well as anyone who hasn’t had an arm or leg broken here can.” She grimaced.
    The smile on his face became genuine; it was a sentiment that any of Telvar’s students, no matter how long ago they graduated, could appreciate.
    â€œGood. I want to speak with you.”
    Her face paled. “Is it—is it my mother?”
    â€œShe is well, but yes, it’s about your mother.” He watched her relax. “I’m not sure how much you know about the action on our borders.”
    â€œA bit,” she replied cautiously.
    â€œTwo of our villages have fallen, and with them much of the supplies for our companies. Two separate wagons are to be sent out, under guard, to Hillrock.”
    â€œThat’s in our borders.”
    He nodded. “A good forty miles.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œYour mother is in Hillrock; she’s due to return for a few weeka.” He slipped a hand into the inner pocket of his robes
and pulled out a folded piece of paper. When she didn’t react, he unfolded it.
    She had the grace to blush.
    â€œYou know ‛a bit’?” He smiled. “I