The Balance of Power (Godsland Series: Books Four, Five, and Six) (35 page)

It seemed a small request, but it was a great deal to ask of Catrin. Already she'd been delayed too much in the quest to get Sinjin back. Prios, too, was anxious and ready to get going. The energy imparted by the dryads had them eager to be in their way.

"Can you tell me why?" Catrin asked.

The look on Vell's face in response to the question showed disappointment, but she answered nonetheless. "There's something you need to hear. Your coming is fortuitous, and your wait will be short. Had you come on the morrow, you'd have had to wait a week."

Though Vell had still not been entirely clear, Catrin asked no more since the dryad was clearly reluctant to speak of it. With any luck, this message would arrive soon and they could be on their way.

The wind continued its steady gale, and the waters below them were back to their usual turbulence. Warm air buffeted Catrin, and she watched hummingbirds as they performed aerial acrobatics. Prios pointed out a massive sea turtle, its shell divided into golden squares separated by dark chasms. It basked in the energy below them for a time and regarded Catrin and Kyrien with curiosity. The turtle swam on, surprisingly swift as it moved deeper into the shallows. It was then that Catrin first heard a voice.

Are you there?

Startled, Catrin looked to Prios, but he just shrugged. It wasn't his voice Catrin had heard, and it wasn't Kyrien's. From behind the pillar, Vell appeared again. She held her finger to her lips, and Catrin stifled her nearly automatic response. Then she thought she heard an irritated sigh.

Must think I have all the time in the world to stand around and wait.

For tense moments, nothing happened. Catrin did her best to remain silent and even to keep her thoughts close. She wasn't certain exactly what was happening here, and she didn't want to give them away.

Are you there?

There was irritation in the voice, and again Catrin didn't answer. Now though, something was really starting to bother her. She recognized that voice.

Of course I'm here.

The response bore an equal share of irritation. And Catrin would have fallen from Kyrien's back in shock if not so firmly secured by the saddle. She recognized the second voice as well.

Get on with it, then. I've no time to spare. War is brewing,
Lissa said.

It is indeed. The black navy has sailed for the Greatland, and you'll soon have more dragons than you'll know what to do with. Your beloved cousin's get is on one of those ships, so I assume Thorakis won't have much to worry about much from her,
Master Edling responded.

A mistake in birth and marriage hardly makes her my cousin.

There was venom in the words, and Catrin couldn't help but feel the sting. Though she was tempted to tell Lissa exactly how she felt, she remained silent.

Your cousin and her tongueless husband ride the last of the regent dragons to retrieve their son. In your cousin's absence, Trinda Hollis, the daughter of the baker, has taken control of Dragonhold.

Again, Catrin reeled. How could Trinda have taken control of Dragonhold? Feeling suddenly foolish and used, Catrin made herself pay attention to the rest. There would be time for anger afterward.

The girl sent word asking for her father and me to visit Dragonhold, and I expect to control the Pinook and Chinawpa Valleys within weeks. The devastation from the attacks is widespread, but now we can rebuild. We will, of course, still need the supplies that you committed.

This, at least, was some consolation to Catrin. Even if the people of the Godfist were not under her rule, which she had never really asked for anyway, she wanted to know that they were well taken care of. Any supplies Lissa could send would certainly help prevent widespread starvation.

Supply ships were on their way weeks ago. You've mostly held up your end of our bargain, and I'll hold up mine. The religious artifacts you requested, however, are beyond my reach. I doubt very much that I'll ever get within sight of the objects you mentioned. Thorakis has had men scouring the land, looking for the gifted and for relics. More and more the people distrust Thorakis. His power has grown too great, and the fools are just now starting to wonder if they made a mistake putting one man in control of all the food. If Thorakis turns off the water, he turns off the food. And those aqueducts will keep the people divided.

Though she'd been born on the Godfist, Catrin felt an affinity with the people of the Greatland, the place of her mother's birth. Everything new she learned about Thorakis made her despise him more. Though Catrin tried to reserve those feelings for only the most vile, this man presented the greatest threat she'd ever known. To have the ability to starve an entire population at will was more power than any one individual should ever have.

It must have seemed so innocent to the people at first when Thorakis's laborers brought the aqueducts to a town. Water, fish, and other supplies could then easily be sent to the people there. Even when he'd asked for all able-bodied men to join his forces, it must have seemed harmless enough. Certainly it had made sense for those men to help bring the same food and supplies to other areas where people were struggling to survive. With the men had gone the horses and oxen, leaving the people without what they needed to farm without what Thorakis provided. The people had inadvertently enslaved themselves, and many of them still did not even know it. Even those would soon find out.

Master Edling continued,
It took a great deal of effort, gold, and a lot of convincing to get people to let go of the items you requested. If you cannot get me the artifacts, then I'll need pyre orchid. Or if you wish, you could simply tell me the location from which you speak. You have me at a disadvantage.

Catrin thought that perhaps she, too, knew from where Master Edling spoke.

There have been no forest fires that I'm aware of, and even if there had been, that would be no guarantee there would be pyre orchid. It is a rare thing. I cannot grant that request. I am able to tell you where I'm standing, but I will not. You must ask for something else.

Lissa, it seemed, had not lost her charm. There was a hint of something dangerous in Master Edling's voice when he responded, as if all of this had been an elaborate gambit and it was about to come to fruition.

Perhaps, then, you will tell me of another location such as these we currently occupy. You do know of another, do you not?

There was a long pause before Lissa responded,
I do know of another such location, but I'll not tell you where it is. You ask too much. Think on it between now and our next meeting. My time has run short, and I've a long journey ahead of me.

The annoyance returned to Master Edling's voice.
Yes, yes, of course. Please don't let me keep you from your arduous journey. I'll count the hours until we speak again. I'm certain there're more of what you want on the Godfist, especially within Dragonhold, and I will, of course, be happy to send them to you. Until next time.

There was no response from Lissa. Catrin could not be certain what Lissa had asked for, but she had a good guess, and the thought gave her a cold feeling in her gut. It felt to her as if she had made a terrible mistake but had yet to fully realize it. It was difficult to shake, but Kyrien took them higher and executed a banking turn that took them through the columns. In that moment, Catrin wanted nothing more than to say good-bye to Vell. When she looked back, she saw the dryad waving from beside her tree, and the other dryads showed themselves as well. In silent salute, they watched as Kyrien, Catrin, and Prios flew away.

Chapter 11

It is within the subtleties of light that one finds the greatest power.

--Gemino, sorcerer and artist

* * *

Benjin Hawk stood at the prow of his ship, still amazed by what he saw. In all his days, he'd never have thought the
Dragon's Wing
would fly and at such speed. Certainly he'd known that Catrin could make a ship fly, but finding out that others could do the same had been a shocking realization. And then there were the wooden tubes. Those confused him more than anything else, partly because he couldn't grasp how they worked, but mostly because his teenage daughter seemed perfectly adapted to using these strange pieces of wood art to propel his ship faster than any ship had ever sailed. It seemed unnatural and amazing and frightening all at once.

When the Falcon Isles appeared, Benjin wanted to know, more than anything, that Catrin was there and safe. Hearing the sound of a cane on the deck, Benjin knew it was Wendel who had come to his side.

"It's been too long since I've seen my daughter," Wendel said. "I miss her."

"So do I," Benjin said. "It seems like yesterday that she wanted my help building a tree fort. Now I'm not even certain that tree still stands."

"She's a tough one, that one," Wendel said. "Like her mother."

Benjin made no response.

"And now we get to see our old friend Nat," Wendel continued.

"Perhaps I'll wait on the ship," Benjin said.

"Still holding grudges, eh?"

"I've managed to forgive him for many things, but that does not mean I've the desire to seek him out. More often than not, talking to him means trouble."

"We'll make it brief," Wendel said.

From nearby, Fasha smiled sadly, seeing that her husband was taking the worst of it.

"There could be any number of demons, turncoats, assassins, or worse on these islands," Morif said. "I suggest everyone stay on the ship and only two of us go to see the mad prophet."

"He's not mad," Millie said, but the others ignored her statement.

When the ship dropped anchor in shallow water north of the harbor, a single boat was lowered, and aboard were Wendel, Morif, and Benjin. Morif looked less pleased than usual. That alone would have put most men off, but Benjin had just shouldered his way onto the boat and refused to budge. Rowing to shore didn't take long, and they soon stood along a sandy stretch of beach. The once devastated vegetation had returned in full force.

"You don't really want to go in there, do you?" Morif asked.

Benjin scanned the tree line for some sign of a trail, some sign of where Nat Dersinger and the Gunata tribe could be found. He knew what kind of dangers lurked in those jungles, and Nat was not the least of them. He had influenced Catrin over the years, and Benjin had always disliked it. He didn't trust the man, and it pained him that Catrin did. Wendel was probably right, but Benjin still had a bad feeling that grew worse the longer he stared at the livid jungle. This wasn't a place to be trifled with. Within those leaves waited both marvels and deadly things large and small. The main problem was that he still didn't know which were which. That left them trying to avoid everything.

"Perhaps we should build a fire," Wendel said. "That would bring him to us."

"That'll bring everyone to us," Morif said, looking worried. Wendel had known the man long enough to know that he had good instincts, and if he was worried, then Wendel was worried. In the next instant, though, the choice was taken out of their hands. A booming explosion split the air. When Benjin looked out to the
Dragon's Wing,
where the sound had seemed to come from, a puff of white smoke rising into the air above the deck told the tale. Kenward stood at the rail, waving. When the wind shifted, Kenward could be heard shouting, "That should get his attention."

"Does that man ever think anything through?" Benjin asked.

"It would appear not," Morif said. "We can wait maybe an hour, no more. The only blessing is that Kenward didn't make that noise twice. To be honest, I'm still trying to figure out how he did it. Under
different
circumstances, that might actually be useful."

Time passed slowly and tension hung heavy in the air. Benjin knew someone must be coming to investigate, but thus far they had seen no one. Nat and his people were nomadic, and he knew they could be anywhere on the island. The people who filled the harbor town were potentially far closer and could be there at any time.

"We have to go," Morif said suddenly, and Benjin turned to look where the man pointed. Once again, the one-eyed man had seen what others missed. Like a stain on the horizon, a black ship moved their way. It could simply be a pirate vessel destined for the harbor, but it looked to be coming straight at them.

"I knew this was a bad idea," Benjin said.

"Always you have doubted," came a voice from the tree line, and the hair on Benjin's neck stood. "To what do I owe the honor of being summoned by the father of the Herald, the guardian of the Herald, and the servant of the Herald's mother? Given your lack of proximity to the Herald, I'd say you're not doing very well at performing your duties."

"We just need to know if you've seen Catrin," Wendel said. His tone was civil, but there was an unmistakable hint of exasperation.

"I have."

"When?" Wendel asked, his voice trembling with hope. "Where is she?"

"Several days ago," Nat said, and there was clear disdain in his voice. He stepped a couple of strides away from the trees. As he did, the trees around him moved. Bodies that had been concealed now revealed themselves. A clear message had been delivered. If only Benjin had been able to hear it. What he heard instead were Nat's next words.

"The Herald of Istra did light upon these lands with the last of the regent dragons, both seeking absolution for what they've done, but they found no respite here. The Herald failed at her duty to keep safe the Staff of Life, and she's been held accountable. Her request for healing and sanctuary was denied, and she was sent away."

"She's hurt?" Benjin asked in an angry bark.

"She and her dragon bore the wounds of battle, yes, but they should live."

"How could you turn away a wounded friend?" Benjin asked, and he moved toward Nat without waiting for an answer. "You're a monster, plain and simple. You're no better than the demons."

"Don't blame me," Nat said, his hands held out wide. "I'm not the one who let the Staff of Life fall into the hands of the darkness. My duty was done. It was the Herald who failed in hers. I've seen the future in which she loses the staff, and the blood will weigh heavily on her soul."

Nat may have had more to say, but Benjin uncoiled his anger like a striking snake, and Nat was thrown backward by the sudden blow. "How come you didn't see that coming, prophet?"

Benjin, too, was cut short. The sharp tip of a spear jammed against the tender flesh under his chin and pressed his mouth shut.

Nat approached, dabbing the blood from his nose. "That's twice, Benjin Hawk. If you ever strike me again, it will mean your death. Don't speak or nod. The spear at your throat is tipped with a very powerful poison. If even the slightest amount gets into your blood, you'll be turning black in minutes."

No one made a move until Nat nodded, and the spear was removed from Benjin's throat. At the same time, voices echoed along the beach, and a group of armed men made their way quickly toward them. The black ship had also drawn dangerously close, the wind blowing in its favor.

"We need to go. Now," Morif said.

When Benjin looked back, Nat was gone. No evidence that he and his people had ever been there remained, which was perhaps for the best.

Morif, Benjin, and Wendel got the boat back into the water and rowed against the tide and the wind to the
Dragon's Wing.
The exertion had Benjin's shoulders burning, and it looked as if the black ship would arrive about the same time as they would, if not a little sooner.

A terrifying sight emerged from the
Dragon's Wing.
Benjin had never seen anything like it before. It looked like normal air, only it distorted the light and made the things beyond it seem warped and twisted. Like tendrils from some unnatural vine, they grew and stretched, reaching toward the slow-moving boat. There was a sickening thud and a jerking sensation when the tendrils wrapped around them. Without warning, the boat surged forward and raced toward the waiting ship, toward Pelivor, who appeared to be pulling them in.

"I don't know if I'll ever get used to this," Wendel said.

Benjin had to agree.

When they reached the
Dragon's Wing,
lines were quickly dropped, and they were hoisted back up to the deck. The black ship was closing fast, and those on the beach were running back to the harbor. At the stern, Gwen stood, smiling, her hands caressing the wooden tubes. With a flick of her hair and a broad smile, she let the power flow through her, and lightning crawled from her hands and over the tubes themselves. Benjin watched again in awe.

Fasha reached his side. "It looks like it's time we leave."

Benjin nodded, still watching Gwen.

"She gets it from my side, you know," Fasha said with a grin.

The ship moved slowly at first, but then they turned to catch the growing wind. Gwen increased the air flow, causing the tubes to whine with a higher pitch. Pelivor extended his arms.

"Get us out of here," Fasha said. It was, after all, her ship, though she'd been saying an awful lot lately that there seemed to be too many captains on her ship--far, far too many. The flightmaster and thrustmaster, on the other hand, seemed to suit her just fine. Benjin couldn't argue with her. When the ship left the water and Gwen applied her will, The
Dragon's Wing
was the fastest ship on all of Godsland.

* * *

It was in the morning that she saw it, rising out of the mists that blanketed the waters, a solitary structure that defied logic. This was no lighthouse or island castle; this was a keep in the middle of an ocean, a keep that, as far as Catrin could see, had no entrance. Kyrien flew in for a closer look, and Catrin gasped when she saw a figure standing atop the towering structure. Dark and fluid, it moved with the wind, and Catrin knew that this was no natural being. The hair on her neck stood, and her breathing quickened. Kyrien must have sensed the presence as he suddenly veered away from the keep. Before he did, though, Catrin got to see the slick, black rocks that formed this megalithic structure. Relatively small chunks of the black stone made up the entire keep, and it looked as if it fit together like a giant puzzle, not loose and disorderly, but as if every stone had been molded to conform to its neighbors. The effect was unforgettable.

Catrin could not imagine how such a keep had been constructed. Erecting any structure, let alone one with masterful stonework, amid these deep waters seemed an impossible task. The place beckoned to Catrin, calling to her like the song of a dark siren. Something waited for her within that keep--somehow she knew--though she didn't think it would be pleasant. When she looked back, the figure was gone from the rooftop, but she could still feel it watching her.

For the briefest instant, she considered asking Kyrien to go back, to let her search the keep and find what it was that awaited her, but there had been too many delays already. Sinjin was all that mattered. Prios had slept through the experience, and Catrin did not want to wake him. For some reason, she did not want him to know about the dark keep. Something deep down inside told her that the place was meant for her alone. It made her feel guilty to keep it from him, but it felt as if it were for his own good, and that was all the justification she could find. It was enough.

I'll be able to find that place again,
Kyrien told her.
I don't want you to go in there, but if you must, then I'll take you back there when the time comes.

Ironically, that knowledge made Catrin feel no better. The whole thing left her with an odd mixture of excitement and foreboding. Prios stirred behind her, and she handed him a water flask and a piece of salted fish. He accepted them with a grateful nod. There was still a great deal of water to cross before they reached the Greatland and even more land to cross before they reached Riverhold. Catrin assumed that was where Sinjin would be taken, but even if it wasn't, that was the most likely place she would find Thorakis. There she would make him pay for the lives he'd taken. There she would retrieve the Staff of Life and Koe, and there she would find the information that would lead her to her son.

Prios put his arms around her, as if reading her mind. His presence was comforting, grounding. When she and Kyrien had been alone, the burden had been heavy on Catrin's shoulders, but Prios somehow knew how to lessen that weight. Perhaps by taking it upon himself, Catrin thought, and again he seemed to read her mind. He patted her on the shoulder and kissed her cheek.

With both of them awake and refreshed, Catrin began to gather her will. Prios said nothing but did the same. They had been practicing much of what Catrin had learned during the flight, especially the things that allowed Kyrien to fly farther and faster. Every minute they saved made up for some of the delays, but still it was not fast enough to suit Catrin.