The Balance of Power (Godsland Series: Books Four, Five, and Six) (55 page)

Chapter 10

Each of us has the capacity for greatness, what varies most is the extent of our belief.

--Master Jarvis, teacher

* * *

When at last they reached the lower Cloud Forest, Allette, Thundegar, and Rastas all looked as if they had lost a number of battles, and Allette supposed they had. The Cloud Forest was a worthy adversary, but they had finally won their way free of the thick jungle. What grew at the lower elevations was a great deal sparser in comparison. Here grew majestic hardwoods that cast deep shade beneath a tall canopy. Vines and other creeping vegetation dwindled until the forest was little more than hardwoods, moss, and leaves. Here and there were bushes and other tenacious plants, but traveling through these woods was almost laughably easy. No more did Allette's staves get caught with every other step, and Rastas was having a wonderful time playing in the leaves. When Allette passed between a pair of towering oaks, Rastas jumped out and startled her, then rolled onto his back so she could rub his belly. Soft, light brown, curly hair covered his large but lithe abdomen.

Reaching down, she gave him a good rub, but staying bent over was difficult given her burdens, and she grunted as she straightened. Before she was all the way upright, she froze. Moving between the trees as silently as shadows were wolves. "We have a problem," Allette said. Rastas was on his paws before the words left her lips.

Thundegar crouched down. "Be ready to drop your pack and climb if need be," he said. A low growl came from Rastas, and Allette had never seen the cat look quite so menacing, even when they had first met. This was a real threat, and the cat seemed ready for a fight to the death.

Allette knew wolves could not climb trees, and she knew it would be no problem for her or Rastas to do so, but Thundegar was another matter. He was strong, no doubt, but she'd been with him for weeks, and she'd observed his movements. He had pain he'd never admit, and she thought that perhaps the constant humidity in the upper Cloud Forest had been partially to blame. If they lived long enough for them to get truly warm and dry, she might get the chance to find out. Even with the wolves approaching, the thought of being truly dry was alluring.

"I'll climb when you climb," Allette finally said, and Thundegar made no response. "How far are we from the desert?"

"A mile," Thundegar said. "Perhaps two."

A nearby yip was answered by another even closer, and Allette knew that time had run out. When the first wolf showed itself, it stepped out from behind a cluster of trees and faced Allette. She'd seen this wolf before, and by the way it looked at her, it remembered her as well. Her staff held before her, Allette prepared to fight, though she took a step backward.

"Stop!" Thundegar commanded, and Allette froze. The wolf charged. "Behind you! Blue-faced spider! Attacks anything that touches its web. Duck!"

She barely heard him, yet somehow his words registered. Instead of taking another step back, as her instincts demanded in the face of the bounding mass of muscle and fur that rushed her, she fell onto her back and kicked. It was not so different from when she had thrown the thrower from the Heights, except it felt like the wolf barely touched her, not seeing the web until it was too late. Allette scrambled to her feet and prepared to face more wolves. She heard Thundegar cry out, and she heard Rastas make a sound that she hoped to never hear again. The wolf that had leaped past her, though, was turning and coming back, a look of furious determination on its face, which was partly covered in webbing. Just as Allette squared off and held her staff at ready, she saw a flash of blue moving across the wolf's face and toward its eyes. In the next instant, the wolf issued a high-pitched and strangled cry, whipping its head side to side. The beast charged past Allette and was gone. Another joined it, missing half an ear and leaving a trail of blood behind it.

When Allette turned, she saw Rastas standing over Thundegar, who'd gone down. Two more wolves circled them, nipping and biting at Thundegar, alternating so Rastas could not defend against both of them.

With a cry, Allette charged through the trees and launched herself at the closest wolf. It turned in time to see her boots closing on its face. They collided, and the wolf went down before twisting out from under Allette and charging back into the trees. Rastas was taking parting swipes at the last one, which followed its brethren back into the forest.

Running to Thundegar's side, Allette trembled at the sight of blood. "I gave as good as I got," Thundegar said. "It's not as bad as it probably looks. Help me up."

Doing as he asked, Allette pulled him from the ground. Rastas stalked in a circle around them, his hair standing on end and that menacing growl rumbling in his chest. After he wiped the blood away, a long slash across Thundegar's forehead bled freely.

"Come here," she said, tearing off strips of blanket from her bedroll and securing them around his head. Blood seeped into the cloth, but it kept it out of his eyes, and she hoped it would clot soon. She had no medical kit to stitch with, so it would have to do.

* * *

Standing at the bow, Sinjin watched the shoreline, where the very beginnings of a half dozen ships were beginning to emerge. It was a false sign of progress, Sinjin knew. It would take months for the ships to be ready and seaworthy. There were trees not terribly far from the construction sites, but the trees desirable for building ships grew farther inland. If the Arghast were planning a lengthy sea voyage, they would need sturdy ships capable of surviving storms and high seas. It was no small task to build such ships without the proper tools and skilled workers. Sinjin had his doubts about the Arghast reaching the 'place of dragons,' as Halmsa had called it.

"This isn't going to be any fun, is it?" Durin asked.

Sinjin smiled. It was good to have his friend back. No matter all the other circumstances that weighed on him, having Durin back made it more bearable. "No. I don't suppose it is."

"We might end up wishing we were back carrying water buckets for Miss Mariss," Durin said, and his face contorted with irritation. "And can you believe that all that time we could have just turned the water back on for the entire keep?"

No matter how much he'd grown as the result of all that had happened to him, Sinjin couldn't help but agree with Durin. Knowing all that work had been for nothing made him feel sick inside.

"And do you think anyone will ever thank me for figuring out how to make the keep move? Of course not."

"You did make the discovery by way of laziness," Sinjin said, and Durin punched him just hard enough to make Sinjin shift his weight. When he did, he felt the bulge of Koe, and he pulled the dragon ore carving from his cloak.

"That thing always gives me the crawls," Durin said when looking at Koe.

"I tried to give it to Gwen," Sinjin said.

Durin said nothing; he just raised both eyebrows and waited.

"I thought maybe it would help her when flying the ship."

"How'd that work out for you?"

"Not very good," Sinjin said.

"I didn't think so. You're a smart kid, my friend, but you don't know anything about women."

Considering how things had gone with Kendra afterward, Sinjin couldn't argue Durin's logic, but he said nothing about it, not wanting to admit the changes in his relationship with Kendra. Durin didn't trust her because of what her mother had done, but Sinjin knew her better now. They had been through a lot together, and most of her actions seemed to be in his best interest. Durin would never understand.

Their conversation was cut short when Pelivor lowered the ship back into the water. Shouts and calls came from shore, and Sinjin braced himself as the ship slowed. Durin mumbled something about fair warning while belatedly trying to brace himself. Millie shouted something to the same effect from the galley.

Sinjin, though, took in all the details of what he saw, a knot forming in his gut. There were hundreds of Arghast, which was a blessing and a curse. The larger labor force would make constructing the ships easier, but such numbers also required more ships, which meant a lot more wood. The Arghast, though, had previously gathered enough wood to make their canoes, and a steady stream of fresh-cut timber was traversing the sands. The Arghast horses once again displayed their might as they hauled what looked like locust trees. Knowing how hard locust wood was, Sinjin considered going back to Harborton to request tools from Trinda. Surely Strom could make them the tools they needed. First, though, he would talk with his grandfather.

Not long after the ship settled into the shallows off shore, boats were lowered, and Durin climbed into the same boat as Sinjin, seemingly unwilling to let him out of his sight. He couldn't blame his friend. The world had become a very uncertain place, and he never knew what might come next.

"Six months," Wendel said when they approached. Despite his age, the man remained strong and vital, his skin slick with sweat and browned by the sun. "And that's pushing it. There should be an extra month or two of sea trials before such a voyage, but something tells me there'll be no sea trials. For that reason, I insist the greatest care be taken during construction. Fortunately, the Arghast seem to be listening to good sense. I guess nearly drowning the entire clan has instilled a sense of the risk involved."

Durin gave Wendel a hug, and Sinjin did the same.

"Now you two rascals behave yourselves," Wendel said. "I know how the two of you get when you're together. Now's not the time for any foolishness."

Sinjin flushed, feeling partly angry that his grandfather would scold him so, but mostly because he knew they both deserved it. Old guilt remained, and he realized then that he would need to leave that guilt behind someday. It hung from him like an anchor, impeding any progress he might make, but still he could not absolve himself of the responsibility for the things he'd done. It felt as if he had not yet suffered enough for his missteps, large and small.

Brother Vaughn came to Sinjin's side, fondling some trinket in his palm, and Kenward joined them. Before Wendel spoke again, Kenward looked down at the item that Brother Vaughn was turning over and over in his hand. It appeared to be a small cube of inlaid wood with intricate patterns made up of many colors.

"Where did you get that?" Kenward asked.

"It came from a ship," Brother Vaughn said, his interest clearly piqued, "a very old ship that lies at the bottom of the God's Eye. Do you know what it is? Is it some kind of treasure?"

"I know exactly what it is," Kenward said, "though I've never actually seen one before. I've read a number of descriptions. What you have is treasure of sorts. It's a key."

"A key," Brother Vaughn said in a near whisper while looking at it intently as he rolled it in his palm. The light danced over the surface. "What kind of key is it?"

"It's a very special key," Kenward said, "the kind only the captain of a ship would have. It is a key to the secondhold."

"What's a secondhold?" Sinjin asked.

"The hold is the one everyone knows about," Brother Vaughn said, and Kenward nodded. "The secondhold is the one that no one else is supposed to know exists."

Kenward looked as if he wanted to say more, and Brother Vaughn appeared ready to immediately launch an expedition to the God's Eye, but Wendel cleared his throat. "Halmsa and the remainder of the timber crews should be back in the next few hours," he said. "We should probably figure out exactly what we plan to do before he returns. The man is passionate and strong willed. We need to be decided in our course, of a single mind, and firm in our stance. Do you understand me?"

Sinjin and the others nodded. Benjin and Fasha had joined them and heard enough to express their agreement. The Arghast were a passionate people, and they could easily overpower those not of an accord. In truth, Sinjin felt deeply for these people. Because of their beliefs, they were leaving everything behind, even their prized horses. Sinjin knew the bond between the Arghast and their horses was sacred, and leaving their companions behind must have been heartbreaking. The fact that the horses had returned across the desert after a series of drumbeats and whistles was a testament to their loyalty. These noble beasts who'd been abandoned by those they loved came anyway, and they worked as if it were an honor to do so. It was simply astounding.

"I want to help them, Grandfather," Sinjin said, and no one spoke in opposition. "Without our help, they'll never make it."

"I believe you're correct," Benjin said, and Wendel nodded.

"If we're to remain here for an extended period," Morif said. "Then our position should be more defensible. Trinda has made it clear that we're not welcome here, and I'm not certain the fact that we're building ships will buy us enough time to do what needs doing. The girl could easily perceive the ships as a threat and send her forces here to deal with us."

That was exactly the outcome Sinjin needed to avoid. Though Wendel had wanted them to be of a single mind by the time Halmsa returned, it was not to be. All conversation ceased when a single horse raced along the returning timber route. The burden the rider carried made it clear it was Halmsa who approached. He refused to go anywhere without the eggs, and all those who witnessed his breakneck approach knew something must be terribly wrong, or he would never risk the eggs so. All work stopped and a hush overtook the encampment, save the sound of hammering from a single workman unaware of what approached.