Snow scrunched under my boots as Tinna and I ran through Iceclad, headed for the Eastern Wastes of Velious. Snow also blew in under my cold-weather cloak, flew up my sleeves, and eddied around my face. A wizard friend of Tinna's had ported us here, dropping us off just as this storm had broken. Now, I clumped along behind Tinna, trusting in her ability to navigate without landmarks, since neither of us could see more than a few feet in any direction.
We'd been going on like this for two leagues at least, but even the storm hadn't taken my mind off what must be happening back at the Jade Tiger. I couldn't understand why Uncle Zophia would punch Father. How could he still be angry after so many seasons had passed? Father hadn't said anything to set Zophia off, and yet maybe it was what he hadn't said, like "I'm sorry," perhaps. That would have gone a long way toward repairing the rift. But Father hadn't had a chance to say anything, really, except to thank Zophia for helping me. Why couldn't Zophia have just waited a minute? The apology would have been next, I was certain.
Or maybe it wouldn't have. Maybe Father still thought he was right after all this time. But surely he was smart enough to see that there wasn't a "right." Father had taken his own path, back to Kelethin; Uncle Zophia and Tinna were still together. Each had made his choice. Surely the argument was over--and yet, it clearly wasn't.
Now they were both stuck in the apartment, imprisoned for at least the next two days by Bortimulus's locks and wards. One of them would probably kill the other.
"It's all my fault!" I cried aloud.
Tinna stopped. "What did you say?"
"Never mind," I shouted over the howling wind. "Keep going."
Tinna frowned. "By my reckoning," she said, "We will not reach the Eastern Wastes before nightfall." She shook some snow out of her hair. "And the storm shows no sign of stopping. We must look for a place to camp."
I wasn't about to argue with that idea. Tinna ran off again, and I followed her. After ten or fifteen minutes, we found a stand of trees that offered some shelter, enough to keep us reasonably warm. Once we had the tent set up, it was even quiet enough that we didn't have to shriek to be heard.
I flopped down on the ground inside the tent, rubbing my legs. "It's so cold," I moaned. "I can't feel my feet! Why did we come here again?"
"Boots," Tinna said. "The hide of the Ulthork makes superior clothing and footwear." She handed me some dried rations. "It is too windy for a fire," she said, "But we must retain our strength. Eat."
I shrugged and took a bite. "Tinna, do you think they're all right?" I said, chewing.
"The rations? Yes, I dried them myself only a month ago."
"No," I said, "Father. And Uncle Zophia."
Tinna sighed. "I do not know," she said. "An argument between good friends is perhaps the worst kind of conflict."
"You're right," I said, "But why is it? I mean, shouldn't disagreements be easier if you really like the other person?"
"No," Tinna said, "They are more difficult, for hate springs from love more quickly than from other feelings."
I finished my ration and wiped my gloves on my pants leg. "What do you mean?"
Tinna turned to me. "Zophia told you of his past," she said, "But did he tell you of mine?"
I shook my head. "No, he just told me about himself, and how he met Father."
Tinna looked at me for what seemed like a long time. A gust of wind battered the tent, rattling the poles. I could see my breath. At last, Tinna nodded. "I will tell you of my life," she said. "It is a different kind of story than you are used to hearing. But it may help you."
"Help me?" I said. "How?"
"Listen," Tinna said, arranging her cloak under her. "And then you will know. It started when I was born to a noble house in the city of Neriak."
"Noble house?" I said. "What's that?"
Tinna shot me a look. "It is a family," she said. "Now listen, or this will take until morning.
"I had a normal childhood by the standards of the Tier'Dal, with everything I could have wanted. Our manor was large and comfortable. I did have four sisters, but all were much older than I, and bent on becoming priestesses. So most of the time, they left me alone."
"They left you alone?" I said. "But they were your sisters!"
Tinna chuckled. "I wanted them to leave me alone," she said. "We Tier'Dal are more--competitive than other races."
"Father told me that once." I nodded. "But he didn't say there was competition in families."
"There is." The wind howled again, and Tinna leaned forward to brace a tent pole. "If my sisters had considered me a threat," she said, "I would not be here now, speaking to you. But I was younger, so they fought only among themselves.
"In my tenth season, T'Lax, our house weapons-master, noticed my agility. One day, he handed me a sword, and told me that I must fight him then and there. I had never fought anyone before, not even my siblings, and I did not defeat him that day. But somehow, I had impressed him, for the next day he approached my mother with the proposal that I should train to become a Knight of Innoruuk."
"What did your father say?" I asked.
"My father had nothing to do with decisions." Tinna idly scooped up some snow and molded it in her hands. "Among the Tier'Dal, men have no place in important matters. It is the women who lead the family.
"So my mother agreed, and I continued to train with T'Lax, and with the guildmaster of the Knights of Innoruuk. I learned to use many kinds of weapons to defeat any foe, no matter how much larger or stronger than myself. Later, I learned some of the magic which Knights of Innoruuk are allowed to use.
"But my training was never finished." Tinna tossed the snow away. "One night, I awoke out of a sound sleep to find T'Lax shaking me. He told me to get up, and take my things, for I was to leave the manor immediately."
My eyes widened. "Leave?" I said. "But why?"
"I do not expect you to understand this," Tinna said. "As your father told you, the Tier'Dal fight each other constantly, vying for power and wealth." She shook her head. "With all the power and wealth available in Neriak, the fighting never ends. And that night, another noble house was plotting to overtake our home and appropriate our worldly goods."
"They were going to rob you?"
"You do not understand. They meant to take our manor, and everything in it--including us." Tinna looked down at her boots. "And they did. My house was defeated, and my family taken prisoner, everyone, my mother, father, and all four sisters. But not I, for T'Lax had given his own freedom to ensure that I would escape.
"I reached the surface at Nektulos forest. I was alone, half-trained, with only the weapons and armor I had managed to take with me. That, and a map of Innothule Swamp that T'Lax had pressed into my hand at the last moment. He told me I must find the ogre city of Oggok, and speak to the guildmaster there, so my training could continue."
Tinna didn't say anything for a minute. I tried to imagine her alone and helpless. Alone, I could picture--but helpless, no. Tinna was the toughest person I knew, tougher even than Bankerra. She always seemed to know what to do.
"Did he die?" I finally said.
Tinna blinked. "T'Lax? I do not know." She sighed. "I have not heard from him since that night, nor from any of my family. I can only assume that they were killed."
"Killed? You mean they--"
Tinna shrugged. "That is the way of the Tier'Dal," she said. "Myself, I traveled to Oggok, and received some training from the guildmaster there.
"Those were decent lessons, and better than nothing at all. But as it turned out, I barely needed additional training to become an effective Knight of Innoruuk." Tinna turned toward me, and gazed into my face. "Do you understand what Innoruuk is?" she asked.
I squirmed, frightened by the intensity of her stare. "I don't know," I said. "He's the avatar or prince of something?"
"The Prince of Hate." Tinna nodded slowly. "He is hate itself, given form. Those who follow him are also formed of hate."
"Formed of hate?" I didn't understand. "How can something, or someone, be formed of hate? Isn't that sort of--well, negative?"
Suddenly, shadows seemed to gather around Tinna's face. Her voice lowered to a growling hiss. "I lost everything," she said. My hair stood on end. I cowered back into my cloak, fighting the urge to run away.
"Do you know what it is like," she continued, "To have nothing? To lose your place in the world because someone else took everything from you?"
"N-no," I managed.
"Well," she said. "I do. And if you did, you would understand the power of hate. I believed that when the hour of Innoruuk came, this world, and every greedy, small-minded being in it, would be destroyed--and replaced by the peace of oblivion."
"Wait," I blurted. I was still scared, but I had to understand. "What about T'Lax? He wasn't so bad. He helped you; he must have cared for you!"
Tinna relaxed a little. "He obviously did. But I did not see that at the time. I could think only of what I had lost, and hate those who took it from me. The power of hate fueled my every action. For many seasons, it kept me alive."
She put a hand on my shoulder. "Do you understand?" she said. "Without my hate, I would not have cared enough to continue."
Then she was silent again, and I thought of an obvious question. I sat on my hands. I bit the inside of my lip. I squeezed my eyes shut tight. I held my breath. I wouldn't ask it. I wouldn't!
"Yes, Gwion," Tinna said at last, noticing my distress. "It was Zophia who showed me that there were other ways of staying alive."
I let my breath out with a loud poof. "You mean because he cared for you," I said, "And now you don't believe in hate anymore."
Tinna considered her backpack for a moment. "My waking thoughts are often free of it," she said. "But hate is not so easily erased. I sometimes find myself wishing Innoruuk would arrive to claim the world, though I no longer believe that he will."
I shivered, hoping he wouldn't show up for at least a few more days. "Do you really think love and hate are so much alike?" I asked.
"Only one can dissolve the bonds of the other." Tinna opened the tent flap just a crack and peered out. "It is getting dark," she said. "We will need to sleep soon. Sleep is--"
"I know," I said. "Very important." I curled up under my cloak. "I'll try."
