Chapter 23: The Accord

The voice of the Tree was not a voice.

It was the sound of every leaf in the Heartgarden moving at once, and it came up through the roots into the soles of her feet.

Nimeriel understood it anyway.

It said, "Warden."

The plaza had gone dark and still.

Torches burned low and green.

Every kin in the square stood with one hand at their collar, because every collar in the square was humming the same note.

Nimeriel walked across the lifted stone to the biggest root and laid both hands flat on the bark.

It was cold and dry.

Under her palms she felt the thing she had carried since the gallery, the heavy weight under her ribs.

"I took this from him," she said aloud. "It's yours. I've been holding it for you."

The roots shivered.

"I won't be bound," she said.

"I won't take a life from anyone, and I won't make anyone give it."

"And I'm empty," she said. "There's nothing left in me to heal with."

Nothing answered.

Behind her, somebody took a breath.

Ru's hand came down on her shoulder.

He did not say anything, and the weight under her ribs eased by a thread.

Ashgar's hand came down next, then Brannoch's, big and warm.

Iven's fingers closed around the hem of her sleeve.

She felt the heaviness shift.

"It isn't mine to give," she said to the Tree. "It's theirs. They're the ones who gave it all along."

A woman stepped out of the crowd.

She was a kin woman in a kitchen apron, with a grey collar and a small boy by the hand, and she set her free hand on the nearest root.