BooksBarbecue
Back Priestess of the White
Chapters (62)
  1. Cover
  2. TRUDI CANAVAN
  3. Dedication
  4. Map
  5. PROLOGUE
  6. PART ONE
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. PART TWO
  25. 18
  26. 19
  27. 20
  28. 21
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. PART THREE
  41. 33
  42. 34
  43. 35
  44. 36
  45. 37
  46. 38
  47. 39
  48. 40
  49. 41
  50. 42
  51. 43
  52. 44
  53. 45
  54. 46
  55. 47
  56. 48
  57. EPILOGUE
  58. GLOSSARY
  59. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  60. About the Author
  61. Other Books by Trudi Canavan
  62. About the Publisher

Arleej sighed. “The hardest challenge a Dreamweaver can ever face isn’t prejudice or intolerance, but to stand back and watch your own country lose in a war.” She looked at Jayim. “We do not take sides. If you step in and fight, you are no longer a Dreamweaver.”

Jayim nodded. His young face was creased with tension and unhappiness—and resolution. Leiard felt a mingled pride and sorrow. The boy would not falter, but he would not like himself for it.

Arleej turned and gave Leiard a direct, assessing look.

“And you?”

Leiard frowned at her. “Me?”

“Not tempted to rush in and rescue anyone?”

Her meaning came to him in a rush. Auraya. Could he stand back and watch Auraya be defeated? Could he watch her die?

Suddenly his heart was racing. He looked out at the battlefield—at the five White. Why hadn’t it occurred to him before? She always seemed so strong, so confident, he thought. I might not have liked that she was one of the Gods’ Chosen, but it meant she was safe. Immortal. Protected by magic and the gods.

The gods…Surely they wouldn’t allow their chosen human representatives to lose?

If you believe that, you are a fool, Mirar whispered.

“What could I do to save them?” Leiard said honestly. “One single sorcerer? I doubt I’d make the slightest difference.” Aware that his voice was betraying his distress, he looked at Arleej. “Except, as always, as a healer.”

Arleej gave his shoulder a sympathetic squeeze. “And a fine one at that.”

As she walked away, Leiard sighed heavily. He no longer wanted to watch the battle. Not if it meant watching Auraya die and not being able to do anything about it.

I could spare you the ordeal, Mirar offered.

No. I am here to heal, Leiard replied.

I can do that for you.

No. When this is over with we will go to Somrey and I will be rid of you.

You think Arleej can fix you? I’m not sure you’ll like having her poking around in your mind. I’m not sure I like the idea, either.

I thought you wanted to be gone?

That depends on whether the White win this battle or not. If they do, I’ll let you go to Somrey. We’ll see if Arleej can do something about our situation.

And if the White lose? Leiard asked.

Mirar did not answer.

46

Tryss glided in a wide circle in the hope of getting a chance to view the battle. Without an immediate target, a black bird to contend with, or something else to occupy his attention, he was suddenly aware of how tired he was. Every muscle ached. He realized he was bleeding from several cuts and scratches, though he could not remember how he’d got them. They stung.