The Unfinished Song: Taboo (17 page)

“Are you a
hexer
?” he asked. “Did you do this because you thought it would give
you
secret powers over your enemies?”

“Of course not!” What did she read in his face?
A challenge, evidently.
She squared her shoulders, defiance rallying over terror.  “I don’t expect you to believe me.” Her brave front cracked and her voice broke just a fraction. “I know you will turn me over to be stoned to death. I always knew what would happen if I were caught.”

“Then why did you do it, Dindi?” he whispered. “Is it worth your life . . . and your honor?”

She flinched at the last word.  “No! Yes. I don’t know. I had to dance.”

“To do what? Bring you what? Wealth, power, a lover?” He put his hands on her shoulders, though he resisted the conflicting urges to either comfort her with an embrace or to shake the answers out of her. “Were you blackmailed into performing a hex?”

“No!” She grimaced in frustration. “I wasn’t casting magic, why can’t you believe that? I have no magic, so how could I hex anyone? How could I harm anyone? Not for wealth, not for power, not for a lover. Just for me. Just for the joy of the dance itself!”

“That’s not a
reason
. Not to risk your life. You could live without dancing.”

“No. I couldn’t.”

“You—” he shook his head.

“I don’t expect you to understand.”

Her bleakness stabbed him.  Without knowing why, he touched her cheek, so soft, his fingers trailing the line of her jaw. If she’d had magic, he should have seen it in her aura. He could see any of the six
Chromas,
there was nothing she could hide from him. Yet he saw no wayward wisps of light around her, of any color. He’d always imagined those without magic
to be content with their lot—
they usually were the type to spurn the fae and the things they couldn’t see as worthless anyway.
How would I feel if I were myself in every way, but had no Chromas to dance?

“What you did was a
n
offense.”

“I know.” She glanced at his hand, resting on her arm. “I won’t run away, Kavio. I told you, I knew this might happen. I know…what to expect. I’m not afraid.” She swallowed a lump. “Maybe a little afraid.”

“Dindi …” But what reassurance could he promise, when he had to be the spear which would destroy her?
If only he had never seen her dancing alone, to the beat of the drums.

Drums, something about drums tugged at the back thoughts of his mind. They had stopped. Why?

If ever a prisoner of war found an opportunity to escape, this would be it
, Rthan reflected as Brena raced from the practice ground. Had she given no thought to the fact she’d left him in charge of the same Initiates he and his people had assaulted only a handful of
weeks
ago? Or that he was without other guards, in the woods far from the tors and close to the river? The wind sweeping the banks carried just a whiff of salt, a reminder of the sea he might never sail again.

Then he heard the Merfae. Their siren call was unmistakable. The voices cried his name.
Rthan! Rthan! We have answered your call! Come to us, Rthan!

Pride leaped inside him. So his summoning of the Merfae the day before had not been in vain! They had come for him!

He took a step in the direction of the river. The Initiates parted for him, uncertain what he was doing.

You are in charge of the safety of the Initiates
. Brena’s last words to him rang in his ears, a discordant counterpoint to the siren call of the Merfae. He hesitated.
The longer he stood, debating what to do, the rowdier the Initiates grew. Several of the boys, led by the troublemaker Tamio, began a mock spear fight. He glanced at Brena’s daughter. The younger was, as usual, deflecting the taunts of her
sister’s
clique.
Brena trusted you to keep your word not to try to escape in her daughter
s’
presence
. He squared his shoulders, and turned his back on the fae.

“Back into positions,” he ordered the boys. “Tamio, that means you.”

“Fa!” Tamio swaggered forward a step. “You’re not our teacher. You’re our enemy. Why should we listen to you?”

The muscles across Rthan’s back tightened. Unfortunately, the lout had a point. If Rthan had really been a Zavaedi loyal to Yellow Bear, he could have enforced his authority at this moment graphically across Tamio’s jaw. He knew the pup couldn’t beat him in a dual. The pup knew it too—it made Rthan’s weak position all the
more dangerous
. Worse and worse, Tamio was exchanging what he no doubt imagined were subtle nods and gestures with his hangers-on, half a dozen other young men, who inched into a semi-circle around Rthan. They were armed; he was not. Tamio and the others kept up
their
heckling, trying to work up the nerve for the first blow. At some point, the Initiates who had been drumming let their drums fall silent; everyone was watching the confrontation, breathless.

Rthan stood still, taking it, fighting his own rising temper.
Muck it all, these hooligans really think they can attack me and get away with it
. And they can—
if I fight back, even in self-defense, all Yellow Bear—including Brena
—
will assume I tried to escape
, when in fact, I just
sacrificed
my chance to escape.
I have to talk my way out of this one
. Unfortunately, it was obvious Tamio and his gang had been planning this a long time. And talking had never been Rthan’s strong point.

Tamio rushed in for the first blow, but Rthan was already on the other side of him, whacking him in a move that flipped the boy upside down, flat on his back. The other hooligans didn’t like to see their leader humiliated
. They
attacked en masse, six on one.

Brena stumbled through dry leaves and brush down the hillside to the river. A huge golden shaggy bear stood on the shore, rearing up on hind feet. One leg still bled.

“Get on my back!” ordered the bear.

“Are you insane?” demanded Brena.

“Can you swim?” asked the bear.

“No, but what—”

The bear charged her and swatted her into the river. The current immediately swept her to the deep, fast center channel. Furious and frightened, Brena struggled to grab on to something to keep her head above water. Her fingers clutched fur. Bear fur. She had no choice but to clamber onto the back of the swimming bear.

She had no time to curse the faery beast,
nor
to demand a return to shore. The bear swam as only fae could, and the shore turned into a blur. The bear rushed
up
river, heading
east
. In just moments, they covered a distance that would have required two days journey by
canoe
.

From her vantage on the bear’s back, Brena could see weird snake-like creatures, glowing evil azure. One of the creatures noticed the bear and shrieked. In a moment, all of them dropped what they were doing and shared the shriek.

“Don’t look at them!” ordered the bear. “Jump!”

Brena leaped
.
Wet mud
squished wetly under her feet. As soon as she broke contact with the bear, she could no longer see the Blue fae. But it was obvious they had thrown themselves into a headlong attack against the bear.

The great shaggy blonde bear stood on her back feet, taller than any human man, battling the invisible foes.
Brena
could hear their hisses and squelchy footfalls. Ferns on the ground flattened. Every nerve told her to run from the unseen terror. How could she help the bear against other fae, those invisible to her?

More than one fae enemy must have been tangling with the bear; a scarlet gash of blooded fur appeared on the bear’s flank. Brena didn’t dare waver longer. She pulled out the only weapon she had been able to bring with her on such short notice, or at least the only weapon in which she had confidence in her own skill, an antler knife with a stone tip, like a short spear. She rushed to stab blindly at the air around the bear. To her surprise, she felt resistance,
then
heard a thump. Her next several slashes did less well, and something hit back. Then once more, she encountered resistance, and blood gushed hot over her arms as her knife slid into some unseen chest.

“Touch my fur!” commanded the Brunderfae. “And see your victory!”

Obeying, Brena saw the backs of Blue faery warriors pop into her vision.
Merfae
, running away.
The High Blue fae were sworn enemies of the Brunderfae. Though some Merfae were reputed to be so irresistibly beautiful as to lure unwary humans to their death, these three had serpents for hair, blue skin covered in boils, webbed fingers and frog-like feet. Two lay dead and gray in the yellow flowers and moss covering the spongy sod of the Raft. The others had apparently not liked the new odds, or the prospect of a fair fight. They gurgled and melted into the swampy water, disappearing.

The bear shifted into the form of a striking woman, dressed in a gown of golden poppies. Brena held the hem of her dress. It felt as soft as a silken web.

“
Twice you have rendered me aide, human,” the faery said. “Once from humans, once from fae, you have helped me.”

“Did I?” Brena wiped the blood off her hands on the grass. “Or was this just a show, a fae trick? Surely the Golden Lady could have defeated a handful of Merfae without the aide of a mere human.”

The Golden Lady cocked her head, both to acknowledge her identity, and demur from the accusation. “My injury puts me at a disadvantage.
My Blue Sister’s people grow more daring every day. Before I was wounded, no Merfae would have dared try to steal into my territory and attack me as boldly as this. The circle has been broken, the balance of power upset, because of Death’s arrow.

“
Those Merfae were medusae. Had I, or any one who could see Blue, looked into their eyes,
that one
would have been turned to stone.
Normally, I would have returned to flesh again after the curse passed, but until Death’s Arrow is fed a sacrifice, I am in danger of dying just as any mortal would.
So though it seemed otherwise, your blindness to them was true sight and my sight blinded me from fighting them. Do you see why a faery might need a human henchman?”

“Maybe.” Brena wrinkled her nose at the snake-headed fae lying face up in the ferns. She let the Lady’s silk gown drop from her hand, and the vision disappeared. “But I don’t see why it has to be me.”

“You took the arrow,” said the Golden Lady. “Your own light calls to me. You cannot escape the consequences of your own compassion.”

Escape. Rthan. Oh, mercy
. Furious with the faery for making her neglect her duty, Brena snarled, “Look, I wish I could help you, but you’ve got the wrong woman, Lady! You must take me back to my people immediately!”

The Lady did not change form again, as Brena expected, but simply lifted Brena into her arms. On wings of gold the Lady flew over the river and woods, swooped low and dropped Brena into a pile of dry leaves and pine needles.

Wondering why the drums
had
stopped, Kavio scrutinized the Tavaedi dancing ground. Instead of stately dancing, he saw a brawl, centered on a familiar form.
Rthan is trying to escape
. Of course, with the river so close, he would try, what had Brena been thinking, bringing him out here? And where
was
Brena? Mercy, if Rthan had slain her, Kavio bore the moral responsibility for her
death.
He
had burdened her with the enemy prisoner.