by C. E. Murphy
"But it might someday be, through the pressure of time." Milu grabbed Telun's hand as he threatened another hit and drew him closer, speaking more softly. "It worked, and I won't do it again." Telun relaxed a little, putting his forehead against Milu's shoulder, then nodding.
Kisia, staring between them, wet her lips. "I take it you're not meant to work with mud."
Milu shrugged. "It's not stone, but it's earth. Metal, now, metal is hard to work."
Telun lifted his head to roll his eyes. "He means for most people."
"Shush, Telun." Milu walked several feet into the tunnel, sunrise bleeding into the cave and lighting his way. The weight of stonemastery filled the space again, though Milu wasn't doing anything visible. Rasim glanced at Telun, but he watched Milu with just as much expectation as Rasim or Kisia. After a moment, Milu turned back. "It runs deep, and it would be warmer deeper in, but we have no way of knowing what's back there. I think we're better off staying close to the surface."
"The wind will kill us," Rasim said grimly, but Milu chuckled and shook his head. Stone flowed behind them, closing them away from the tunnel's unknown depths, then sealed up its mouth as well, leaving only a thin arc near the top, for air to come through.
Then the space inside the witch-made cave shifted, shrinking until there was barely more than a long arm's length from one side of the cave to the other. It warmed up noticeably as the four Ilyarans crowded together, but Rasim rasped, "Stop. Please.
Stop."
Shuddering waves washed over his skin, different from the shivers of cold. His stomach thumped sickly, like his heart had taken up residence in it and neither was happy about it. The walls were too close, pressing on him, and there wasn't enough air in the cave.
"He's got stone sickness. That didn't happen to him in the island cave. Open it up a little, Milu."
Even in the semi-darkness, Rasim saw the sympathy in Milu's eyes before stone flowed back again, making a little more room. It was still too close, the mountain's very size threatening to crush him, but it was better than before. Rasim bit his lip and nodded, then sat down to bury his face in his knees. Stone sickness, like sea sickness. He hadn't know there was such a thing, though it was clear the Stonemasters were familiar with it. "There was water in the island cave," he said against his knees. "I know water. It's not as..."
"Alarming," Kisia offered. It was a nicer word than scary , which is what Rasim had been thinking, so he nodded. "It's still cold in here, Milu. Really cold." She had a hard time getting whole sentences through chattering teeth. Rasim reached for her hand, pulling her down to huddle with him. Telun, the biggest and probably warmest of them, hunkered down too, and a little more heat bloomed from their shivering bodies.
"Let me concentrate. Maybe I can find sparkstone somewhere in this mountain." Milu spread his hands against the walls while Rasim tried to remember what he knew about warming up.
"Tunics," he finally said, feeling thick. "Take them off, sit on them. A lot of heat gets lost through the wood. Rock." He frowned at the cave floor. "Whichever. But we always sleep with more blankets under us than over, on deck. And skin warms skin faster than cloth." He pulled his shirt off, spreading it out so it would cover the most floor space. Telun and Kisia did the same, and Telun tugged Milu's shirt off him when it was clear the other journeyman was too involved with his witchery to do as he'd been told. He was colder than Rasim, his thin limbs carrying no extra fat, especially after weeks of sea sickness. They made a triangle around him, squishing close. Telun draped his cloak over their heads, making for a lopsided tent that went farther in covering and warming them all than Rasim would have expected.
Once in their puddle of warmth, Kisia peered under Milu's arm at Telun. "Shouldn't you help?"
"Me? No, if Milu can't find it it's not here to be f..." The big journeyman trailed off, considering the shivering, slender young man they crowded around. "Ah. He's been so sick you wouldn't know. It's Milu who has the power, between us. Master Lusa brought him, not me, to work witchery for the Northerners. I've no great strength at stonecraft."
Rasim, rubbing his chest, muttered, "Then why bring you at all?"
and then made a face. "I didn't mean it that way."
Telun chortled. “No, I understand. Milu wouldn’t go without me.
What, ah." His smile disappeared entirely. "What happened to us?"
"Someone threw us overboard. Siliaria rescued us." Rasim thought he sounded ridiculous, but his tone was so flat and matter-of-fact that Telun only blinked.
"Siliaria? The sea goddess?" At Rasim's nod, Telun looked flummoxed. "She's real ?"
Kisia made a small strange sound. "More real than anything I've ever seen. What, don't you believe in Coluth, Telun?"
"Of course, but...well, no." Telun shrugged his big shoulders. "I mean, we pray to him and we swear by him, but it's not like he
drops by for dinner. There's never been any proof to believe in.
I could swear by my sand lizard, too, but that doesn't make him a god."
Kisia's face, in the shadowed light of their little tent, was still incredulous. Rasim thought he under-stood, though. Gods and goddesses were from old stories, not things that appeared in everyday life. Cursing someone in Siliaria's name might relieve anger, but no one expected the goddess herself to rise out of the sea and strike the offender down. The idea of them was real enough, but even in the midst of storms, they didn't seem entirely... real.
Or they hadn't until last night, anyway. Since Siliaria had come for him, Rasim thought maybe some part of him had always thought she did exist, even if he understood Telun's point of view.
"Siliaria is real," he said with quiet conviction. "I'm guessing Coluth and Riorda and Tilarea are too. She saved us. She—"
" Kissed you!" Kisia said with the outrage of having just remembered. She sat up straight, bumping the top of their tent around, and thrust an accusing finger around Milu and toward Rasim. "You kissed her! A goddess! "
Scarlet heat started around Rasim's chest and raced upward until his face felt alight. "It seemed like a good idea. It seemed like she...wanted something. And what did she say to you?" he demanded. "She said something, I just couldn't hear what!"
"She said—" Kisia hunched back down, arms folded around herself.
"Never mind. She called you Seamaster, Rasim. I heard that. What does it mean if the goddess of the sea calls you Seamaster?"
"That I'm forever hers," Rasim said, and frowned as Kisia hunched down even more. "I don't know what it means, Kees, except..." He drew a deep breath, tasting the salt water on the air, then sank down as he exhaled. "Except I guess you were right. I guess it was me who saved you when the serpent attacked. I guess I did throw witchery all that way. I remember getting dizzy afterward, but...what?"
Kisia's gaze was on him again, eyes bright. "I knew it was you. I told Captain Asindo. It felt like you, like you were catching me.
He said it couldn't be, but I knew it was. That was the first time I knew how strong you were. That's why I think it was you who set the ropes on fire, too, Rasim. I think you have to balance it, that's all. You were starting to learn sunmastery and it broke down the walls holding back your sea magic. Sun and sea, don't you see? It makes sense. Who knows," she said breathlessly,
"maybe we can all work two magics, and we've just never tried because of how the guilds are set up. Maybe we all have complementary witchery in us."
Telun breathed, "Hah. I'd like that. Tilarea did me only one favor by guiding me into Coluth's arms." Milu, although half asleep, made a pleased sound, and Telun smiled at him before speaking to the other two again. "If it's sun and sea, stone and sky, maybe I can find a real gift for skywitchery in myself, rather than being weak at one alone."
"See?" Kisia demanded triumphantly. "That's just like how you are, Rasim. Not very strong except when you really needed to be, but getting better now that you've been studying another magic!"
"Have you ever done unexpected witchery?" Rasim asked Telun dubiously
. "Called more power than you imagined you had? I guess I did once or twice..."
"Nah. But until this journey I've never done anything unusual at all. Give me a chance." Telun smiled, and Rasim's heart twisted in sympathy. He knew exactly what it was like to be underrated, and he wasn't sure Telun's big build had done him any favors. At least being physically slight fit Rasim's witchery skills. Telun looked like a Stonemaster, like he should be able to move mountains. Fiddling with pebbles might be even harder, in those circumstances.
"Can you feel it now, Rasim? The ocean? You said you never could, before..."
Rasim nodded before Kisia finished the questions. "I can feel all of it, in my blood. It's moving there. It's a...it's not a song, but it's like one. Constant sound, inside me. I can..." His face heated again and Kisia reached over to poke him, curiously. "I can almost hear Siliaria's voice," he mumbled. "Which doesn't make any sense, because she only sounded like the ocean, really, but..."
"Good." Milu opened his eyes. "If you're feeling the ocean, that means you can feel some driftwood in it." He opened his hands, too, revealing chunks of sharp-edged, opaque rock. "I've found sparkstone and we all carry steel knives. Now all we need is something to burn."
"I'm just barely warm," Kisia said in despair.
"I'll go with Rasim," Telun volunteered. "You two wrap up in my cloak. Milu's too thin to keep warm in the wind right now anyway.
Close the cave up after us, and shape a chimney from the stone, Milu. We'll be back with wood in no time, and then we can rest beside a fire until we're warmed through."
"Easier said than done," Rasim muttered, but with the stone witch's help, it was easier done than he imagined. Climbing up and down the mountain on his own would have exhausted him, but Telun shaped ladder rungs for them to climb, and rolled the wood they collected up the mountainside in a bowl of stone not unlike
the watery one they'd spent the night in. Rasim sent him ahead with the wood, and went fishing.
All his life he'd watched others walk easily into the ocean, carrying warm air with themselves. For the first time he did it as easily, reveling in Siliaria's comforting grasp. Within minutes, he found a large, flat white fish lying quietly on the muddy ocean floor and scooped it up with witchery, carrying it, water and all, to shore. He killed it there and hauled it up to their cave, which was so much warmer than outdoors he started shivering again once inside. The big white fish's skin and bones had to be cooked out rather than cut with a knife, but none of the others complained, especially after Kisia roused herself to go down the shore again and came back with a palmful of fresh sea salt. Finally warm, full, and feeling safe, they dropped into sleep in their small protected cave. What to do next could wait another day.
A steady banging from within the mountain disturbed Rasim's dreams. He opened his eyes in confusion as the back wall of their cave shattered and a monstrously hairy creature stepped through.
A wide grin split the hair, turning the monster into a man, and in the same moment, irons were clamped around Rasim's ankles.
They were all taken prisoner before any of them were fully awake.
Chapter Eighteen
"Wait—!" Rasim coughed the word first in Ilyaran, then in the Northern tongue, which at least stopped the enormous man who'd chained him. Then he grunted and grinned at the others of his kind, all large, all grimy with earth.
"Good of—" He said something Rasim didn't understand, but thought might be the name of their god— "to give us workers who speak a civilized tongue. Keep those two—" More words Rasim didn't know, but four of the other men seized Milu and Telun. Their noses were pinched closed and their heads wrenched back, mouths open, as someone upended jugs of thick liquid into their mouths.
Or tried, at least. Rasim splayed his fingers, calling witchery, and held the liquid in its place. Kisia, now wide awake, kicked his shin and gave his hand a sharp look. He flinched and closed his fingers again, trying not to let it be obvious what was keeping the drug—because Rasim was certain it was a drug—from flowing.
Stonemastery surged. Rock spiked from the cave walls, slamming through one of their captors. He screamed and died. Others were luckier, only knocked aside by the magical onslaught, but more spikes burst out of the walls and floor, making most of their captors scatter.
Another order barked through the little cave. Men spun in place, avoiding the living stone, and hit both Milu and Telun on the heads hard enough that the cracks echoed. Kisia shrieked and this time Rasim didn't care if the Northerners knew he called magic.
He reached for the endless strength of the sea so nearby, fully intending to drown every last one of their captors.
Something cracked against the back of his head, too, and the world went black.
His mouth tasted metallic and thick, when he came to again. His head throbbed in time to his heartbeat, and he didn't need to feel it to know a fist-sized lump graced it. He did anyway, finding the tender spot and hissing with pain as it squished beneath his probing touch. His hair was caked around it, sticky with blood. He was lucky they hadn't broken his skull.
It took a while to even be surprised that his hands weren't bound. It took longer yet to wonder about his feet. He fumbled them around enough to determine they were chained. His thoughts seemed very slow, each one an effort. Sitting up was dizzying.
His stomach swirled and dipped. Rasim fell sideways, spewing onto the floor. All that white fish wasted, except the bile was thin and watery, not chunky. He had been unconscious a long time.
Someone appeared. A woman this time. Not his original captor. She was tall too, though. All the Northerners seemed to be. Her hair was so dirty he couldn't tell its color. So was her face, for that matter, but she had to be Northern because her eyes were sky-colored. She spoke, and Rasim knew he should understand her.
He had studied the Northern language for weeks. But it made no sense. All he could do was stare blankly at her until she gave up trying. Then she gave him something to drink: sweet, faintly alcoholic, thick. Not mead like Lorens drank. Not enough to use as a weapon, either, unless she drank some and he could clog her throat with it.
Kisia had squeezed someone's heart once. Rasim shuddered at the idea. He could. He had the power now, Siliaria's gift. But he lacked the will. Kisia would scoff. Desimi would scorn him. It didn't matter. He couldn't do it, not coldly. Maybe if the woman came at him with a knife.
But she didn't. She waited to see if the drink stayed down. It did. Rasim knew he should struggle somehow, but his limbs were slow-moving. As slow as his thoughts. He waited. Didn't throw up.
Didn't fight. Didn't talk. Didn't listen when the woman spoke again, because he couldn't understand anyway.
Not until she pulled him to his feet. Not until she drove him out of the chamber—rock, now that he thought to notice it. Lit by torches. Smoke followed an air stream upward, outward. They were still underground. Chains clanked around Rasim's ankles. He stumbled. His head hurt more than ever now that he was moving.
The movement and the pain cleared it some, though. He could think a little more easily, at least. It wasn't just being hit on the head that was slowing his thoughts. He'd been drugged, like when he'd been thrown off the Waifia .
The woman drove him downhill, away from the air currents.
Clanging began in his ears, making the pain worse. His stomach surged, sickness rising again, but he clenched his teeth and pushed it down. She would only feed him more, and the thickness in his skull had cleared enough to let him realize the drug was probably in the drink. If he was Usia or Sesin, he might be able to purge the stuff from his system, but as it was—
He tripped and stumbled down another tunnel, landing awkwardly at someone's feet. Big feet, bare feet. Rasim twisted, looking up.
The man who'd captured them stood above him, arms akimbo and that smile splitting his wild beard. "Are you worthless like the girl, or a stone shaper like the lads?"
Rasim blinked, startled to understand him. His head was clearing
, even if he'd been newly drugged again. Or maybe she hadn't drugged him a second time, judging coherence more useful than obedience. "We're all useful."
Their captor rocked back on his heels, huge eyebrows lifting and making a space for his eyes. Light-colored eyes, just like most Northerners. Like Rasim himself, for that matter. "You do speak our language. How are you useful?"
"The girl and I can clean water, make it drinkable."
This time the man spoke to others, too fast for Rasim to follow.
All he caught was "Ilyaran witches," and hoped the debate wasn't about how best to kill them.
"Keep them separate." The woman spoke more slowly, but not, Rasim thought, so he would understand her. She was thinking aloud, that was all. Considering their options. "Let them see each other once in a while so they all know they're all still alive. The fear of risking their friends will keep them quiet, maybe even without the mindkiller drug. We can mine more with witches helping. Maybe even buy out our—" She used another word Rasim didn't know.
"Hah." The man—men, there were several now, most of them looking at Rasim like they'd never seen an Ilyaran before—they all barked sounds of dis-belief and laughter, but the woman shrugged and kicked Rasim with her toe.
"Laugh if you want, but the other lads are stone shapers and this one's a water witch. How much time will we save if this one and the girl are—" She became unintelligible again, but the gist was clear enough. Ilyaran stone and sea witches working a mine could
increase its productivity enormously. Rasim's chest felt too small for the dreadful thudding of his heart.
Stonemasters did , of course, work mines around Ilyara. Rasim knew nothing about the practice, but he was certain the constant banging of metal against stone inside this mountain didn't happen in Ilyaran mines. It wouldn't have to: Milu had shown how easy it was for a stone witch to reshape the tunnels. For someone of his talent, finding precious metals or salt or whatever they might need to mine would be a matter of sensing the stone until it changed to something else, and then moving the stone to reveal the goal. There would be no debris like lay under Rasim's cheek now, nor any need for miners to do nothing but move that mess out of the way.