The Orphans' Promise (18 page)

Bowbaq insisted, “Yes, I do. I am an erjak, you know…”

“And so?”

“Well… I can enter the minds of animals, or at least mammals. Meaning, all mammals,” he finished gravely.

Corenn suddenly smacked her forehead with the flat of her hand. She understood. It was so obvious. How had she never thought of it?

Yan, too, thought he understood. He pushed the giant to continue, though, just to make sure it was perfectly clear.

“Human minds?” he asked with interest. “You can read people’s thoughts?”

“Sort of, yes,” Bowbaq confirmed, already relieved to have said it.

Rey interjected, “Well, I can recite the Rominian alphabet backward. Come on, Bowbaq, it’s a little too early in the morning for me to swallow something like that. Especially after such a meal.”

“But it’s true,” the giant answered, offended.

Corenn chuckled. Their little group, considered by the Züu to be a contemptible band of fugitives, was proving to be a resourceful bunch.
These times are bringing out the best in us
, she thought to herself, feeling philosophical.

“Bowbaq, why didn’t you tell us earlier?”

“It’s… forbidden,” the giant explained. “By telling you now, I am betraying my erjak’s oath.” He hastily added, “It’s the first time I have.”

They understood very well, since they were all familiar with how valuable an oath, or promise, was, and the sacrifice their friend was making.

“All of you can? All the erjaks?” Léti said, surprised.

“Yes, all of us. Some better than others. Like with animals, it all depends on our skill.” Bowbaq felt much better. His friends
weren’t angry with him. He took advantage of their silence to confess more. “That’s how they discovered my abilities. When I was little, I would sometimes visit people’s minds when they were sleeping. I read their memories. I shared their dreams… I didn’t realize it. I thought that everyone did. Then one day, I slipped into someone’s mind who was awake. He could tell immediately. The entire clan was furious. It was only then that I realized it was
impolite
and that I was the only one in the clan who had that ability.”

Grigán spoke for the group when he said, “That couldn’t have been an enjoyable experience.”

The warrior had spent two years in the White Country and knew the weight the Arques gave to the word
impolite
. Bowbaq must have been treated like a perverted, disrespectful little boy for several moons, probably even several years. It was no surprise that he had kept this secret for such a long time.

“Who taught you?” Corenn asked. “Who asked you to take the oath?”

“An erjak from another clan, whom my father had met during the great hunts. I was his apprentice for several moons, but he taught me only the rules of the fellowship. Like,
never
enter a human’s mind, for example.”

Corenn wondered if this rule weren’t just one of the Arques’ many superstitions. Or was it more of a strategy to keep their powers secret? Knowing the mystic persona of the tribes of the White Country, the first guess was probably the right one. Either way, it wasn’t important here.

“So you could read a Züu’s mind?”

“Yes, I mean only a single Zü at a time. And only once. The one whose mind I invade will immediately be aware of it, and also know who is responsible. In general, it turns even the gentlest people into a seething rage. Just like with animals.”

“But how… how can you
read
a mind? What does it appear as?”

“I am not sure. With sleeping people, I follow their thoughts, that’s all. It is as if I were seeing with their eyes. To communicate with most animals, I am content to send them short phrases or simple images. With a man who’s awake… I’ve only tried it once, and his thoughts flowed too quickly. I think we will have to make him think about what we care to find out. If not, it will just be noise… do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Why don’t you try it on us? If you want to,” Grigán asked. If it worked, the warrior might let himself be talked into a return to the Small Palace. Stealing information from the Züu, despite their efforts to hide it… now
that
was a pleasant idea!

Rey declared, “I volunteer!”

“Me too,” Léti offered up.

“Well, then, I’ll happily let you be the first. Anyhow, my mind is written too poorly to be read,” said the actor.

Among the group, Bowbaq was the least excited about the idea. His education had taught him that the act was always something that was very
impolite.

“Promise me you won’t get mad,” the giant implored.

“Of course not,” the young woman responded, shrugging her shoulders. “I’m volunteering, after all!”

Corenn suggested, “Think of something very precise. An object, a name, something simple.”

Léti agreed and looked for a subject. She chose to concentrate on the standing-sleeper that she had raised several years earlier.

“I’m ready.”

“Here we go,” the giant announced, sounding less certain than he would have liked.

A moment later, he was with Léti, in her mind. He had forgotten how easy it was to make contact with humans.

The young woman fought this intrusion mentally, with the predicted reflex. But Bowbaq had already had enough time to see.

“You were thinking about a standing-sleeper and… of Yan?”

Léti didn’t respond right away. The experience was unpleasant. Truly unpleasant. She understood how someone who was not forewarned could descend into a blind rage.

“You’re right,” she answered. “You’re exactly right.”

She kept herself from contradicting the giant. There would have been too many embarrassing explanations.

He had read her correctly, after all, hadn’t he?

Bowbaq refused to test his powers on any of the other heirs. Reading minds violated the privacy of one’s innermost thoughts, and the giant’s sense of courtesy didn’t let him even consider it. Nevertheless, a single trial was convincing enough, and the heirs made the unanimous decision to return to the Small Palace to steal the Züu’s secrets. This meant that they were going to spend another dékade at Raji’s place, for lack of knowing any safer place. It also meant that Corenn, Grigán, and Bowbaq would face a danger even more serious than the first time. The Züu would be more than ready for them on their second visit, armed with clear instructions from their superiors. This did not bode well for the heirs.

They would have to be prepared to immediately flee Lorelia afterward, regardless of how the meeting went. And the preparations had to be flawless. Grigán set right to hashing out the best possible plan.

This dékade of “inactivity” was full of activities. Encouraged by Corenn, not to mention Bowbaq and his mind-reading display
to Léti, Yan spent the entire first day with her, to the young woman’s delight. Corenn and Grigán, both teachers by coincidence, had to quiet their impatience to work with such talented students. Corenn especially, as she was anxious to let the other members of the group in on her and Yan’s secret.

Rey pestered Bowbaq until he agreed to explain his technique for mind reading. The giant tried, but he couldn’t seem to find the right words. Bowbaq didn’t know how to explain the inner workings of a talent he was born with, and he was too polite to tell the actor that it was a gift and not a talent that could be learned. Rey finally gave up, but not after a few good laughs. As a consolation he had the giant promise to accompany him to the Courtyard of Games one day if their lives ever returned to normal. Bowbaq agreed, welcoming this display of friendship, without truly understanding what Rey was expecting from him.

Corenn transferred the sum Raji requested for their stay and also paid for the additional dékade in advance. At first the little smuggler’s face turned sour as he understood their extended stay. His anger melted away, terce by terce, as the stack of coins Corenn placed in his hands grew.

She began to worry that the group’s financial situation was going to become an issue. But they had made an agreement with Raji, and after all, they had helped themselves to enough of his supplies to make it worth it.

The little man protested loudly when Corenn told him about the deal they were offered at the Small Palace. He didn’t calm down until he realized his name had remained a secret. Still, he pouted the rest of the day.

The sun set on this rare, calm day, and the heirs reconvened. Grigán announced he had conceived a getaway plan and was ready to run the risk. They listened to him, contributed their suggestions, and soon everything was set. It was certainly going
to be dangerous, but no less dangerous than the talk with the Züu itself.

The evening flew by. By talking about real, future events like this, they were able to push the island of Ji, the portal, and the other world out of their minds. Only somewhat, though, and never completely.

“You might have been able to read the child’s mind,” Yan suggested. “The one on the other side.”

Bowbaq held back a horrified grimace. To see into the mind of a
demon
! Such an experience surely would have scarred his sanity.

They changed the subject. The secret of Ji was still beyond reach. The Small Palace market, on the other hand, was close at hand. They had less than a dékade to get ready.

Zamerine stared at his subordinate with open scorn. The Judge, chief of all the Züu killers in the Upper Kingdoms, was a feared and respected master. Mostly feared.

“Say that again,” he asked his agent from the Small Palace. “You met face-to-face with two of the fugitives that the Goddess has condemned, right here in Lorelia, where you have more than forty men working for you, and now you are telling me that they are still alive? And that
you don’t know
where they are hiding?”

“I had them followed,” the accused reminded him. “Zlek got himself killed. He failed, not me.”

“These impious wretches should have never left the Small Palace,” Zamerine said, curtly.

“But the agreements…”

“You know that these so-called agreements with the Lorelien kings are worthless. We don’t obey the will of men; we carry out
the Goddess’s judgment. The primary mission of every messenger. Have you forgotten, Zeanos?”

His pride injured, Zeanos almost responded angrily. But he promptly remembered who he was dealing with and thought better of it. He lowered his eyes to the floor, worried.

“No, of course not,” he managed to mumble.

“Do you agree that you made an error?”

“We weren’t even armed!” Zeanos objected.

The presence of Zamerine’s assistant troubled him more than he wanted to admit. Dyree was like the Judge’s personal executioner, the one who delivered the grand priest’s personal sentences. He was the messenger of the messengers.

“Well, so what? The
hati
is a sacred weapon, but not an obligatory one. Between the two of you, you could have easily executed at least one of the fugitives.”

Zeanos thought it best not to respond. The Züu were under close watch in the Small Palace, and while the jelenis did cede them passage under the threat of their
hati
, the archers would have been merciless, slaughtering the messengers at the least sign of aggression. He and Zlek would have died for nothing. Just to gouge out one of the Ramgrith’s eyes or tear off one of the Kaulienne’s ears? Of course, Zamerine already knew all that, but he didn’t want to acknowledge it.

“I think you have been dealing with… exterior relations for too long,” the Judge started to say. “You have grown soft. How long has it been since you delivered your last sentence?”

“Two years,” the accused hastily added with pride, “but I have seventeen notches on my blade.”

“Dyree has twenty-five. Right, Dyree?”

The assistant responded with a nod, like a well-trained animal. He gripped his
hati
, and Zeanos waited for him to show his
trophies. Instead, Dyree stared at him with a grin, leaving his dagger sheathed.

I didn’t betray Zuïa
, the accused told himself.
I don’t deserve her sentence.

“So, my friend. How will you make up for your error?”

Zamerine made his threat as clear as if he had said, “It’s your fault they’re still alive. If you don’t fix it, Dyree will slit your throat and send you to the swamps of Lus’an.” Thankfully, Zeanos had a few ideas.