Voice of Crow (22 page)

Her Crow brother’s powers had continued to ebb and flow throughout the day, and rain had slowed their progress to an agonizing pace, so that it had been nearly sunset when they arrived. Rhia didn’t want to admit it, even to herself, but she still clutched the hope that a mistake or a miscommunication had occurred with the pigeons, that Marek and Nilik would be waiting for her here in Velekos.

Damen’s pace increased as they turned down a narrow street, past a grizzled old man with a half empty fish cart. From the directions Damen had given the others, she knew they were near his home.

He stopped before a rough wooden door, reached for the latch, then hesitated. Rhia caught up to him.

“It’s odd,” he said. “This is my home, but after all this time, I feel like a stranger.”

Rhia knocked softly.

After several moments, a panel in the door slid open and a bright blue eye peered through.

“Damen!” cried a female voice. The latch clicked, then the door swept inward, revealing a pale pregnant woman.

Damen spread his arms. “Reni, thank the Spirits.” He took her into a careful embrace, then pulled back to examine her. “You all right? The baby?” His breath came quick. “Felt it almost die.”

“Listen to you, sounding like a Kalindon still, heh?” Her musical voice held a tenor of exhaustion. “I’m fine now. We had a bit of a struggle, but the Turtle woman says if I rest and take care what I eat, he should make it to full term.”

“He? It’s a boy?” Damen looked past her. “Where’s Nathas?”

“He’s at market, I imagine. The Horse woman told us to expect you, so he’s buying food for everyone.” She turned her wan, shadow-eyed face toward Rhia. “Is this the mother of the child that was taken?”

Damen held his arm out. “My Crow sister, Rhia.”

“Welcome.” Reni smiled and smoothed the loose strands of red-brown hair that had fallen out of her own braid. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t bow, right?”

“I understand.” Rhia bowed. “It wasn’t long ago that I was pregnant.” Her throat tightened around the word.

Damen took Reni’s hand. “You should lie down. The others will be here soon.”

Reni beckoned them in and motioned toward the kitchen to the left. “Please, dry yourselves, make some tea.” She walked to a bed in the far corner of the living space, eschewing Damen’s assistance. Even in her current state, Reni held a sprightly energy. A bushy gray squirrel-tail fetish hung on a nail at the end of a narrow staircase. She looked about Lycas’s age, maybe twenty-three or twenty-four.

Rhia moved to the adjoining kitchen to give them time alone, though her mind burned with questions about the failed rescue attempt. She lit the stove and filled a pan of water. When she came back to the living space, Reni was lying on the bed with Damen sitting next to her, his hand on her abdomen.

“I felt him move!” he told Rhia. “He’s alive.”

Rhia tried to force a smile, but didn’t succeed.

“Well, of course he’s alive.” Reni gave his arm a light slap. “Soon he won’t have much room to move in there, so enjoy it while you can.” She shifted her head on the pillow. “I’m so happy you’ll be here for the birth, Damen. I worried you wouldn’t make it, but Nathas always believed.”

The door swung open, and a brawny redheaded man backed in, dragging a small upright cart containing a crate full of produce.

“Reni, I hope you’re hungry,” he said without looking behind him. “I bought all the spring vegetables the Turtle woman suggested.”

He turned and saw Damen, who had moved to stand an arm’s length away. They stared at each other for a long moment, then fell into an embrace as fast and hard as if they’d been yanked together by ropes.

“Damen…” Nathas’s eyes squeezed shut. “Spirits, I missed you.” He drew away to examine the Crow’s face. “When did you get so old?”

“When did you get so ugly?”

They shared a laugh, then a long kiss—long, especially, for the reticent Velekons. Rhia wondered if she would ever reunite with Marek in such a way.

“Time for that later,” Reni said. “We’ve got guests coming and Damen won’t let me play hostess.”

Nathas let go. He spotted Rhia, and his hazel eyes grew sad. “You must be…”

“Rhia,” Damen said, “my Spirit sister.”

“Two Crows in one house.” Nathas gave a tight smile. “Good times, heh?” He bowed to her, a motion Rhia returned. “I’m sorry about your family,” he said. “My friend Eneas is coming by after work to report his account of the rescue. He was there with your husband, who gave him a message for you.”

“A message?” Rhia’s heart leaped. Perhaps it held a clue to finding him. “What was it?”

“You’ll have to ask Eneas. He’ll be here after dark, once he’s brought in his fishing boat.” Nathas dragged the cart into the kitchen. “Help me with the food, heh?”

Rhia followed him. “The pigeons said the other two babies had been saved but not Nilik. That Marek went aboard the ship willingly?”

“I wasn’t there, but that’s what I heard.” Nathas unloaded a crate of leafy greens. “If it helps, the children who were saved seemed to be unharmed. They’re on their way back to Asermos already.”

Bitter envy stung her tongue. Soon those other parents would hold their babies again, while her arms would stay empty. She should be happy for them, but her heart filled with a scorched black hate.

She picked up a long-bladed knife and a handful of root vegetables and began chopping. The slice and
thonk
of the blade temporarily eased her need to strike out.

To distract herself, Rhia tried to make conversation with Nathas. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” she said.

“No, you haven’t.” He tapped the Owl feather hanging around his neck. “Even if I couldn’t sniff a lie, I know Damen doesn’t talk about me or anything else inside that head of his.”

A knock sounded on the door. Damen went to answer it. Rhia stepped forward, hoping it was Eneas with her message, but it was the rest of her rescue party. The house grew loud with introductions, and Rhia retreated to the kitchen where she could make herself useful and keep from screaming at everyone. She picked up the knife and a head of cabbage.

Soon Lycas and Nathas joined her. “I was hoping the pigeon message was wrong, too,” her brother said, pouring himself a mug of ale. “But we’ll find them in Leukos.”

Nathas looked up from the stove. “Er, how are you planning to get there?”

“We’ll charter a ship, of course,” Rhia said.

“Oh, dear.” The Owl replaced the lid on the pot of water. “After the kidnapping, Velekos set up a complete embargo on Ilios. No one comes or goes there from our port.”

Rhia gripped the handle of the knife. “We can’t sail to Leukos?”

“It’s long overdue,” Reni added from the other rooms. “If Velekos had embargoed Ilios after the invasions, then your husband and child couldn’t have been kidnapped, at least not so easily.”

Rhia set down the knife, fearing what might become of it. “How are we supposed to get to Leukos?”

“Go around.” Filip sat down on the stairs with Alanka. “That’s how our battalion came to Asermos. We traveled around the sea, then west of Velekos and met the rest of the brigade outside your village.”

“Before you invaded it,” Lycas added bitterly.

“You’re an Ilion?” Nathas asked Filip. “I wondered why you wore no fetish, but I figured you were one of those contrary Kalindons.”

“Filip’s not an Ilion anymore,” Alanka said. “He’s been chosen by the Horse Spirit.” She lifted her chin. “I’m one of those contrary Kalindons.”

Rhia approached Filip. “How long will it take us to get to Leukos if we go around the sea?”

“On horseback, about a month.”

“A month?” Rhia put her hands in her hair, wanting to rip it out. “Anything could happen in that time.” She turned to Nathas. “Won’t someone be willing to break the embargo? A smuggler, maybe?”

“Eventually, yes, once the enforcement slacks off. But right now, there are police all over the docks, warning of hefty fines and even imprisonment. In a few weeks some of the ship owners will be desperate enough for money that they’ll take a chance, but right now everyone’s lying low.”

“We can’t wait for something that might not happen,” she said. “We’ll follow Filip over land.”

“Follow
Filip?
” Lycas slammed his mug on the table. “Are you crazy? He’ll hand us over to the Ilions the moment we step across the border. We’ll fetch a fine price as slaves for his people.”

Filip’s jaw tightened. “They’re not my people anymore.”

“
We’re
not your people, either,” Lycas said. “You’ve made that clear, Descendant.”

“Stop calling him that!” Alanka said.

Filip put a hand on her shoulder and stood to face the Wolverine. “Lycas, you’re right,” he said. “I’ve done everything to distance myself from the people who have helped me the most. If we get near the border and you still don’t trust me, I’ll leave you.” He looked at Rhia, then the others in the living room. “In the meantime, I’ll teach you what you need to know about Ilios. How to read the signs, how to use the money. Whatever I can do.”

“Whatever you can do to get us captured, you mean.” Lycas advanced on him. “You’re all treacherous to the bone.”

“He’s not lying.” Nathas put a hand out to stop Lycas and focused a long, steady Owl gaze upon Filip. “He may have doubts about his decision, but his intentions are sincere.”

“We’ll leave tomorrow.” Rhia gave her brother a defiant glare, then turned to Nathas. “The Asermons donated money for our crossing, but we’ll use it for horses instead. You’ll show us where we can find some?”

The Owl smiled and gave a slight bow. “Not only that, but I’ve been told that Velekos will double what Asermos gave you, and throw in the horses, too. After all, you might be searching for the Raven boy.”

“Maybe not.” Reni put a protective hand over her belly, then looked at Rhia. “In any case, it’s time we started acting like one people. I work at the currency exchange. I’ll get you the best rate for Ilion coin and waive my commission.”

“Thank you,” Rhia said. The villages had never shown such generosity to each other’s people in her life.

“You’re welcome.” Reni sat up in bed. “Now, let’s eat.”

The rescuers and their new hosts shared a supper of fish and vegetables. Though the food was fresh, Rhia could eat no more than a few bites. She wondered where Marek dined tonight, if he watched over their son and if he would ever accept his captivity.

She suspected not. Marek would sooner die than kneel to a Descendant, and that pride could get him killed.

From his window in the slaves’ quarters, Marek stared across the skyline of Leukos. The sunrise glared pink over the white buildings, but his gaze fixed on the green. Basha—the woman who owned him—called it a park, a place set aside where Leukons could enjoy something they called nature. The trees, from what he could tell, were of five or six types, and they sat in tidy groups, like the crops in Asermos.

It was artificial, but it was green, and it was all he had. His powers were fading, as if Wolf couldn’t find him in the midst of so much stone.

As always, he heard Petrop’s footsteps approach his room, but this time the butler was nearly at the door before Marek’s ears caught the sound. He turned from the window.

Petrop stopped at the threshold long enough to say, “Go to her,” before passing on.

“And good morning to you, too,” Marek murmured.

Two house guards flanked him the moment he exited the room. Before he reached the top of the stairs, he heard Nilik bawling. The guards led him down into the sitting room, the chamber where he had first met Basha.

She sat on the divan with Nilik beside her. The child kicked his legs and squalled, ignoring the brightly colored rattle she dangled over his face. Marek stopped in the doorway and forced his fists to unclench.

“Praise gods, you’re here.” Basha flapped her hands toward Nilik. “Make him stop.”

Marek went to his son, circling around the sofa to approach him from the side opposite Basha. As he’d been ordered, he didn’t speak to her or even look at her. He picked up Nilik and held him against his shoulder, whispering and swaying in the rhythm the boy liked best.

“What’s wrong with him?” she said. “The healer says he’s not sick. He’s feeding fine, and he doesn’t need changing.” Her voice pitched up. “I don’t understand. Why isn’t he happy?” When Marek didn’t reply, she added, “You may speak to me if you have an answer.”

“Perhaps he misses his mother,” Marek whispered.

“Wrong answer!” Basha stood and advanced on him. “I’m his mother now, and he’d better get used to it.”

Nilik screamed at her approach, and Basha stopped. “Oh.” She pressed her palms to her temples. “I know it’s hard for him. I just want him not to hate me.”

Marek spoke as softly as he could over Nilik’s howls. “He doesn’t hate you. He’s too young to hate.” He looked around at the cavernous room. “Everything is strange here.”