‘If this is the result of some stupid brotherhood duel, they deserve everything they get,’ Alynar muttered. ‘I don’t see why our all-mother should help them.’
‘What is it, Ree?’ the causare asked, as she came across the mid-deck to join the healer.
The sling fell open to reveal a T’En initiate, frozen in a position of contorted pain. Eveyone gasped and drew back instinctively. The sudden rise in their gifts heightened Ronnyn’s hearing and made everything more intense.
Alynar shuddered. ‘That has to be gift-working.’
‘All-mother Reoden, we call on your healing gift,’ the all-father said. ‘Oteon the Bestiare has been injured in the causare’s service.’
Reoden glanced to Imoshen, who confirmed this with a nod.
‘I’ll help if I can,’ the healer said. ‘Tell me what happened.’
‘Oteon was sent to find the leader of the sea-vermin. To do this, he immersed himself in a sea-eagle. But he became trapped in the bird when it was injured.’
‘That’s the risk a bestiare runs,’ Sarodyti said softly.
‘Filthy gift,’ Alynar muttered.
‘This is gift-working,’ the healer said. ‘I don’t –’
‘Gift-wright Ceriane is dead. You’re all we have.’ The all-father knelt beside his injured brother and lifted both his hands, palm-up, in the obeisance of supplication. ‘Please, the bird is going to die. Can’t you do something for him?’
Reoden looked to Imoshen, who shook her head, at a loss.
The healer seemed both reluctant and sad as she sank to her knees beside the injured brotherhood initiate. Very carefully, she ran her hands over his contorted limbs.
After a moment, she looked across his body to Tobazim. ‘I can’t reach him. You are his all-father, you have a link with him?’ He nodded. ‘Then you are the best one to call him back.’
‘I tried, but he fought me.’ Tobazim indicated his wounds.
‘In that case, you’ve lost him. I’m sorry.’
The all-father turned to Imoshen. ‘Surely you can do something, causare? He suffers because of what you asked of him.’
‘Impudent all-father,’ Alynar whispered.
Just then, the youth’s body bucked and thrashed. Cerafeoni darted in, pulled Reoden to her feet and drew her back. At the same time, Tobazim’s voice-of-reason dragged him out of the way as the injured initiate’s back arched until only back of his head and his heels were in contact with the deck. Even in this extremis, no sound came from him.
Sardeon’s fingers dug into Ronnyn’s arm. The initiate bucked and writhed one last time, then collapsed.
Ronnyn hoped he was dead. At least then the bestiare’s suffering would be over.
Reoden knelt and touched the initiate’s neck then his temples. She came to her feet. ‘He’s gone in both gift and body.’
Sardeon ran to the side of the ship and threw up.
‘I’m sorry, Tobazim,’ Reoden said. ‘At least let me treat you. You’re bleeding badly.’
He shook his head, stunned by the loss.
‘Our brotherhood thanks you for trying,’ Ardonyx said, giving the obeisance of thanks. ‘We must take his body back for the farewell ceremony.’
‘His gift was torn from his body before he died,’ Reoden said. ‘I don’t know if you’ll be able to escort his shade to death’s realm.’
There was so much Ronnyn didn’t understand. He couldn’t get the image of the bestiare’s death throes out of his mind.
I
MOSHEN SHIVERED.
T
HEY
faced death tonight, and she longed for a few moments alone with Ardonyx.
While the dead bestiare’s body was being placed in the sling, she drew Tobazim and Ardonyx aside. ‘I’m sorry. He died bravely.’ And at her bidding.
Tobazim swayed. Ardonyx had to steady him.
‘You should let Ree heal you,’ Imoshen urged.
Again, he shook his head.
‘Your bestiare died in the service of the T’Enatuath, and I’ll see that his stature is acknowledged. But now we have to prepare to repel the sea-vermin. They’ll be on us by this evening. Ardonyx, there’s no time to call an all-coucil. I’m placing you in charge of the fleet.’ She smiled at Tobazim’s expression. ‘What should we do, Commander Ardonyx?’
He did not hesitate. ‘The sisterhood ships are already sailing in the centre, with the brotherhood ships forming a protective circle around them. We’ll reduce sail and tighten up formation.’
‘But the sea-vermin vessels are small enough to get between our ships.’
‘We can’t prevent that, but we can make it harder for them. The brotherhood ships will bear the brunt of the attack. If the sea-vermin take our ships, they’ll throw all the adult T’En and Malaunje men overboard. They’ll keep some of the women and children in slavery on their islands, and the prettiest they’ll sell to brothels down south. We’ll be fighting for our very survival. No quarter given. ’
She nodded and swallowed. ‘My ship’s master says there’s rumour of a sea-vermin power-worker.’
Tobazim stiffened. ‘Power-worker?’
‘I have heard whispers,’ Ardonyx admitted. ‘The power-worker won’t be a problem unless they know how to breach the walls between the planes and bring a predator down on us –’
‘Fiant take them!’ Tobazim cursed.
‘Exactly.’ Ardonyx met his eyes. ‘If they bring a fiant down on us, or even one of the lesser predators, it will be attracted to our gifts.’
‘And there is only one defence,’ Imoshen said. ‘A costly one, in the case of a fiant.’ She saw the same horror in their eyes. A cry from over near the foredeck cabins made Imoshen stiffen. ‘Now, if you will excuse me, I must deal with sisterhood business.’
R
ONNYN JOINED HIS
choice-brother at the water barrel. Sardeon gulped a mouthful and wiped his face with trembling fingers.
‘What did our choice-mother mean when she said the bestiare was gone in both body and gift?’ Ronnyn asked. ‘Why won’t they be able to escort his shade to –’
‘You two.’ Nerazime caught up with them. ‘I sent you inside. You should not have seen this.’
Ronnyn was about to apologise, when his choice-brother surprised him.
‘There are many things we should not see, but we do.’
And Nerazime’s reaction surprised Ronnyn even more. Instead of chastising him, she flinched.
Sardeon turned to Ronnyn. ‘Our choice-mother means that his gift was torn from him before his body died, so his essential-self will be confused and easy prey for the empyrean predators. He’ll never make it to death’s realm, never be united with those he loved in life. He’ll suffer true death.’
‘You’ve seen too much for someone not yet empowered, Sar,’ Nerazime said. She reached out to cup his cheek, but he took a step back. ‘You should never have been swept onto the higher plane. It was a terrible accident.’
‘It was no accident.’ Sardeon’s wine-dark eyes burned in his pale cheeks. ‘I went looking for Lyronyxe because we shared a link. When we were old enough, we were going to make the deep-bonding. We were in love –’
‘Oh, Sar,’ Nerazime whispered. ‘No one makes the deep-bonding anymore. Your all-father would never have allowed it.’
He ignored her. ‘I went in search of Lyronyxe to help her reach death’s realm.’
Nerazime looked stunned. ‘The causare said she thought that’s what you were doing, but I didn’t –’
‘You never asked. No one would talk to me afterwards. Who was sent to escort Lyxie’s shade?’
‘Ree was unconscious, so I went.’
‘Did you find her?’
Nerazime’s mouth worked and tears ran down her cheeks.
‘Then she’s truly dead, and we can never be together. It’s over.’ Sardeon brushed blindly past her, pushing through the sisterhood warriors and scholars.
‘Go after him,’ Nerazime urged.
Ronnyn pursued Sardeon, weaving between the women, and had almost reached him when the three oldest sisters came towards him, blocking his way.
‘Filthy bestiare,’ Alynar muttered. ‘Good riddance, I say.’
‘Poor youth, you mean,’ Sarodyti corrected. ‘What chance did he have?’
‘He’s better off dead,’ the scryer said. Her scar had grown, eating into her bottom lip.
Ronnyn could not tear his eyes away from her ruined face.
‘What are you looking at?’ Lysitzi glared at him.
Today, he’d seen the bestiare die, killed by gift-working gone wrong, and he’d learned why Sardeon had been devastated by Lyronyxe’s death. Who would have thought the link between mind, body and gift could be so powerful?
Ronnyn looked into the scryer’s face. Her gift was eating away at her.
Without warning, she slapped him so hard he fell to the deck.
‘Lysi!’ Sarodyti protested, shocked.
Cerafeoni strode over. ‘What’s going on?’
Stunned, Ronnyn stared up at the scryer.
Sardeon returned and hauled him to his feet.
‘What’s going on here?’ their choice-mother asked. ‘Ronnyn?’
His cheek burned, but he said nothing.
‘The lad insulted me,’ the scryer said.
‘Ronnyn?’ Reoden asked, disbelieving.
‘He didn’t say anything,’ Nerazime insisted. ‘I was right behind him.’
‘It wasn’t what he said. It was the way he looked at me,’ the scryer insisted. Her mouth twisted, lifting her scar. ‘This one’s no better than a Mieren!’
The sisters gasped at the insult.
But Ronnyn felt no anger, only pity. He gave the obeisence of apology. ‘Your pardon, Scryer Lysitzi.’
‘There, he’s done the right thing. Be gracious, Lysi,’ Reoden urged. ‘Forgive him.’
Ronnyn waited.
The old scryer’s face worked with emotion, her scar twisting as the muscles in her jaw moved. No, it was her scar that writhed, lifting her mouth and pulling on her left eye.
Quick as a snake, Lysitzi left hand sought Ronnyn’s forehead. Before she could touch him, a jolt of power ran through his body. His vision turned white and he was thrown backwards off his feet.
It was only because Sardeon and Nerazime were directly behind him that he didn’t hit the deck again. He felt them stagger as they caught him.
A rushing filled his ears and he was momentarily blinded.
‘...you all right?’ Nerazime searched his face.
The buzzing passed. His sight cleared and he made out the old scryer standing rigid, with her eyes rolled back in her head.
‘What’s going on?’ the causare asked, running across the mid-deck to join them.
‘Lysi’s regained her gift,’ Sarodyti announced. ‘I felt her gift spike.’
Everyone stared at the old scryer. Her eyes had returned to normal and she focused on Ronnyn.
‘You will know great stature, but you will never have what you most want.’ She broke into laughter that was almost sobbing. The sound made his skin crawl.
‘Make her stop!’ Sardeon pleaded.
No one moved.
Darting in front of Ronnyn Sardeon pushed the scryer over. She fell, arms flailing, and hit the deck. The impact drove the breath from her chest, and she dragged in a great gulp of air then curled into a ball, moaning.
At the same moment, Sarodyti passed out. The healer only just managed to catch her. As Reoden struggled with the gift-tutor, who had gone completely limp, the causare rushed to help her.
‘Go inside, boys,’ Cerafeoni ordered. She beckoned two warriors.
‘It’s all his fault.’ Historian Alynar pointed to Ronnyn. ‘I knew no good would come of taking in the children of runaway Malaunje!’
Ronnyn bristled. He wanted to defend his mother, but Vittor came running onto the deck.
‘Come quick. The old devotee fell down. There’s blood everywhere.’
‘That’s Sarodyti’s devotee,’ Nerazime said. ‘Of course, she’s linked to –’
The hand-of-force took charge, ordering everyone about. Vittor ran over to Ronnyn, who hugged him. Nerazime drew the boys aside as two warriors carried Sarodyti past.
‘Will she be all right?’ Ronnyn asked.
‘She’s been Lysi’s shield-sister for seventy years,’ Nerazime said. ‘Sarodyti’s strength has helped hold our scryer together since...’
‘Since the day she failed to foresee the attack on Lyronyxe,’ Sardeon finished for her. ‘The scryer never forgave herself. And she never forgave me for surviving, when Lyxie died.’
‘That’s not true, Sar...’ Nerazime whispered.
But Ronnyn could tell it was.
W
AVES OF WEARINESS
rolled over Sorne, and each time he fought them he felt nauseous with the effort. It was only mid-afternoon, but if he was to sail through another night, he needed to get some sleep.
Earlier today, they had seen the sails of a merchant ship, far to the south. Either the lookout hadn’t spotted them or they’d been identified as sea-vermin; the ship had veered away.
He glanced to Vivane and Vivore, the Malaunje brothers. The boys had been taking turns with the rudder for a while now. ‘You’re doing well. Remember to keep the sun on your right as it sets, and we’ll be on course.’
They nodded earnestly.
‘Now I’m going to lie down and sleep. Wake me shortly after sunset.’
In the cabin, Tiasely was asleep on the floor, surrounded by small children. Both bunks were full. Sorne grabbed a blanket and curled up in the prow of the boat.
He lay down, feeling consciousness slide from him.
A
RAVELLE LOOKED UP
as Saskar returned from spying on All-father Tobazim’s brotherhood. She sat at a kneeling desk in the corner of the cabin, making a record of the notes Hueryx had made concerning the last thirty years.
Saskar crossed to where Hueryx and his two seconds knelt on the carpet. They’d been talking over events since the all-father had set off with his voice-of-reason and the injured brother. So far they knew only that the causare had requested a service from one of Tobazim’s brothers, it had all gone horribly wrong and the brother had been bundled off the ship and taken to the healer. Not long ago, Tobazim and Ardonyx had returned with his body.
‘The dead initiate was a bestiare by the name of Oteon,’ Saskar reported.
Aravelle remembered returning to her cabin and seeing the initiate run out of the fog, only to be dragged off. She felt for him, whatever his gift.
‘All-father Tobazim just held the farewell ceremony,’ Saskar said. ‘He claimed stature for the initiate and for his brotherhood. The causare has acknowledged the bestiare’s sacrifice.’