by Sharon Shinn
“Hey—look at that,” Barlow said, which made Leah open her eyes again. Down the road, past the Karkan encampment, a cloud of dust and motion was roiling in from the east. “Are those the rest of Darien’s troops?”
Yori nodded. “Looks like it. We’ve got them boxed in.”
“That’ll make the prince more eager to deal, won’t it?” Barlow asked.
Yori just shrugged.
It didn’t take long for the big transports to arrive and disgorge their occupants in a quick and orderly fashion. Now the Karkans had Welchin soldiers blocking them on three sides and the rocky hill offering a barrier on the fourth. They were effectively surrounded. Is that good? Is that bad? I can’t tell, Leah thought.
The Welchin soldiers had barely finished taking up their positions when a lone Karkan made his way from the prince’s tent to the front line. The prince’s new emissary. “I bet he’s nervous,” Barlow observed.
Leah abruptly rose. “I can’t sit here any longer,” she said. “I can’t watch. I have to go back to camp.”
Yori was instantly on her feet. “I’ll come down with you.”
“You don’t have to.”
The guard offered a slight smile. “I’m supposed to be watching you, remember?”
Barlow pushed himself to a standing position and they all made their way down the hill, weaving between the stands of scrubby brush and piles of tumbled boulders. Once they reached relatively flat ground, Barlow peeled off to find Jaker.
“Maybe you should rest awhile,” Yori suggested to Leah. “I could put up your tent in ten minutes and you could sleep. Nothing’s going to be decided here for another few hours.”
“I won’t be able to sleep.” I’ll never sleep again.
“Maybe not, but you could close your eyes. Rest a little. Build up your strength.”
I have to be strong for Mally. “All right,” Leah said. “If it’s not too much trouble. Thank you.”
Yori gave her a ghost of the old insouciant grin. “Have to keep myself busy somehow,” she said. “This waiting is hard on all of us.”
Fifteen minutes later, Leah was lying on her mat, alone in the tent she had shared last night with Chandran. And might share with Mally tonight. Or tomorrow. Or maybe the day after that, she told herself. The day was chilly and brisk, and she felt cold even wrapped up in all of her blankets, all of Chandran’s. The coarse weave of wool still held the scent of his body, and she pressed it to her face, inhaling that fragrance over and over, holding each breath as long as she could. She couldn’t remember the last thing that had ever seemed so precious.
TWENTY-SIX
Heaviness. Disorientation. An insistent, wayward thread of music tickling at her brain. Cramped muscles, hard mattress, and a sense of foreboding dread. And that music, thin, plaintive, pleading. Come find me. Come find me. Over and over.
Where am I? Leah thought, struggling to turn over on her uncomfortable bed. She was tangled in blankets, lying in some cold, unfamiliar place—
Then memory slammed her awake and she shoved herself to a sitting position, looking around wildly. She must have fallen asleep—here, today, of all times and places, while Darien negotiated for the lives of the two people she held most dear. She could tell by the quality of light seeping through the tent walls that she had been sleeping for at least a couple of hours. Anything could have happened, anyone could be dead by now, and she wouldn’t know—
She fumbled free of the covers and stumbled out of the tent, brushing at her ear to make the faint music go away. Yori was sitting just outside, but jumped to her feet when Leah emerged.
“What’s happening?” Leah demanded.
“Nothing we can tell from out here,” Yori said. “The second Karkan emissary is still meeting with Darien. Chandran has gone into the tent—I guess to prove he’s really here—but he’s come out again. We’re still just waiting.”
Maybe that was good news, maybe that was terrible news; once again, Leah couldn’t tell. Her stomach tightened from the effort of not screaming. “Where’s that music coming from?” she asked next.
Yori looked mystified. “What music?”
“That—that— It sounds like a flute, except not exactly.”
“I can’t hear anything.”
“Really? You could hear the Karkan convoy from two miles away.”
Yori grinned. “Maybe I’m more attuned to dangerous sounds than artistic ones.”
Just then the music swelled for three long, supplicating notes that made Leah’s heart squeeze with desolation. “You didn’t hear that?”
“Hear what?”
Leah stared at her. “If you— I wonder—” She frowned.
“You wonder what?”
Leah turned and did a slow scan of the landscape around them, her eyes running over the rough slope of the rocky hills, the bunched military forces of the two camps, the open, endless, barren prairie spreading from the edge of the road to fill the whole southern horizon. Not many places to hide. Her gaze went back to the hillside. Not so high that it would be hard to climb all the way to the top and over to the other side. Someone could be crouching there, just out of sight, sending up a private signal. Come to me, come to me.
“Seka Mardis,” Leah said abruptly. “She’s out there. Probably across the hill. She wants me to meet with her.”
Yori’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know that?”
Leah brushed at her ear again. “This music. There’s a thing called a Darnish pipe—it plays at a frequency only a few people can hear. Seka has one and she knows I can hear it.”
Yori didn’t bother expressing astonishment or skepticism. She just turned to study the hillside, the way Leah had. “There’s a small pass just beyond that big mass of boulders—see it? Probably easy to slip through there.”
“Then let’s go.”
Yori moved to cut her off. “You realize she could be setting a trap for you. Probably is.”
“I know. She can’t be trusted. But she wants something, and maybe she’ll help us make a deal.”
“I should alert the regent.”
Leah shrugged. “I’m going. Now. Come with me or not.”
Yori eyed her speculatively for a moment, and Leah realized that the guard was trying to decide if she should disable Leah and report this development to Darien. She could do it, too; no question about that. Leah said, “She might know something about Mally.”
Yori nodded and let her pass, then fell in step behind her as Leah headed for the hill. They made a wide detour around the Welchin soldiers before hitting the incline and beginning the climb. It was later than Leah had realized; the first faint patches of peach and saffron were beginning to streak the western skyline. It would be dark within an hour, and then this long, difficult day would finally come to a close. They’d better be off the hillside by then. With all the loose stones, footing was tricky even in daylight. Descending after nightfall would be an invitation to disaster.
The higher they climbed, the louder the music sounded, till Leah could practically picture it swirling around inside her skull. That was good, though—at least she knew they had guessed correctly about where Seka Mardis was most likely to be.
It took them nearly twenty minutes to make it from Leah’s tent to the top of the hillside and the narrow pass cut between two heavy walls of granite. Yori insisted on going first, though Leah whispered, “Seka doesn’t trust you.” Yori whispered right back, “Well, I don’t trust her, either.” Yori had to turn her small body sideways to slip through the shallow opening, and Leah could see that she kept her attention split between the loose rocks at her feet and the potential hazards waiting on the other side.
Once she was through, Yori stood still for a moment and silently reconnoitered. Leah watched her gaze sweep the whole vista laid out on the northern half of the hill, which appeared to be a mirror image of the landcape on the so
uthern side. Almost immediately, Yori’s attention narrowed to one spot. After a few seconds of study, she waved Leah forward. Leah thought she might get stuck in the narrow pass, but she managed to shove herself through. Then she skidded on the loose gravel, dropping to her knees and sliding another few feet. She could feel the abrasions on her skin through the thick fabric of her trousers.
But she hadn’t whimpered or cried out, and now she picked herself up and brushed the dirt from her clothes. She looked at Yori and then in the direction of Yori’s pointing finger.
There was Seka Mardis, perched on one of those rough red boulders, her eyes closed, the mother-of-pearl pipe lifted to her lips. She looked different, odd, and for a moment Leah thought it was just the heartbreaking rapture of the plaintive melody. But then she realized. There were no jewels braided into Seka’s blond hair, no cosmetics on her face; her clothes were severe and plain. This was Seka at her rawest and most unadorned, and she looked like a woman in mourning.
Leah glanced at Yori, who nodded silently. Leah stepped forward, her feet making small noises as she dislodged stones and crunched over dry sticks. But Seka just kept playing, her eyes closed and her face lifted, as if she still didn’t realize anyone had come in response to her song. Leah stepped closer, close enough to touch, then stood still.
“Seka. I’m here.”
Seka’s eyes flew open and she dropped the pipe. “Leah!” she exclaimed, jumping to her feet and flinging out her arms. For a moment, an expression that looked like genuine joy gave her face its customary beauty. “Oh, I was sure you would hear me! My soulmate.”
Because it was so clear Seka wanted it, Leah stepped into the other woman’s embrace, which almost crushed her bones. Before releasing her, Seka drew back just enough to plant a kiss on Leah’s mouth, then she smiled and dropped her arms. “I knew you were here,” Seka said. “I saw you this afternoon, sitting on the hillside, and that’s when I knew what I had to do.”
“Seka, what’s going on? Why did you want to talk to me? Do you know what’s happened to Mally?”
Seka’s gaze went over Leah’s shoulder and her happiness dimmed. “Yori. Of course you brought her. Well, I can’t blame you for being cautious.” She brightened again. “But at least you did come.”
Leah placed her hands on Seka’s shoulders and stared at her, trying to focus the other woman’s attention. She wondered if Seka had taken a stimulant of some kind, or if she was merely unsteady from tension and lack of sleep. She seemed wilder than usual, less in control—and Seka had always been a woman who seemed capable of throwing off every restraint.
“Seka,” she said firmly. “What’s going on? Why did you want to see me?”
Seka lifted one hand and ran it delicately down Leah’s cheek, smiling as if she was stroking a panel of gold. “So beautiful,” she said softly. “It took me half a day, but I realized. She looks just like you.”
Leah caught her breath. “Mally?”
Seka nodded, then abruptly changed the subject. “I’ve done everything for him, you know. Everything. Nothing disgusted me. Nothing horrified me. Of course I was jealous when he would find others and try to replace me, but he always came back to me, because no one was as good as I was. No one was as loyal.”
“You mean the prince?”
Seka nodded again. “And then—this little girl. Why shouldn’t we take her? Why should she be any more precious than anyone else? Little girls suffer all the time. They get stolen away from their families, they get sold into slavery, they die. Why should I care what happens to this one?”
“She’s my daughter,” Leah whispered.
“She’s your daughter. My soulmate’s daughter. When I realized that, everything was suddenly clear. I knew what I had to do.”
What? What do you have to do? Leah thought wildly. She felt her hands tighten so much she had to be bruising the bone, but Seka didn’t protest. “Can you help me get her back? Please? I’ll do anything.”
“Kill me,” Seka said.
Leah’s grip slackened in astonishment. “What?”
Seka cupped both hands around Leah’s face. “Kill me,” she repeated, her voice almost a croon. “He’ll know I betrayed him. If he takes me alive— Oh, you don’t want to know the things he’ll do to me. You might hate me, but you wouldn’t wish such terrible sufferings on anyone.”
“I don’t hate you,” Leah said, amazed that the words were true. “But I can’t kill you.”
“Yes, you can,” Seka said, and leaned in to kiss her again. Then she dropped her hands and pulled free and turned businesslike. “Quickly. Over here. I’m surprised no one has noticed yet that we’re gone.”
“‘We’re gone’? Who’s with you?”
Seka didn’t answer, just spun away and strode as quickly as she could over the uneven ground. Leah followed, sliding on patches of slick stone, trembling so much she couldn’t have kept her balance if they were on absolutely level ground. There—another mound of boulders, shaded by one of those low bushes and the dramatic shadows thrown by the setting sun. Inside that patchwork darkness, a length of blue fabric wrapped around a small and sturdy shape—
“Mally,” Leah breathed, and then ran to her, falling only once on that mad dash, then falling again as she reached the girl’s side. Mally was sitting on the ground against the rock, her eyes blindfolded, her hands tied before her, but her expression alert, her head tilted to catch any sounds.
“Leah?” she asked tentatively.
“Oh, Mally Mally Mally,” Leah chanted, drawing that frail shape into her arms for a single convulsive hug. Then she pulled back and ripped off the blindfold and began picking frantically at the ropes. “Are you all right? Don’t be afraid. Oh my darling girl, you’re with me now—”
Two figures materialized nearby. Yori dropped to her knees beside Mally and produced a knife, which she used to cut through the ropes with a few efficient strokes. Seka kept to her feet, leaning over them nervously.
“Quickly now,” Seka said. “It took you longer to get here than I thought it would, and I’m sure someone is searching for us by now.”
Leah pulled Mally back in her arms and looked up at Seka. “Thank you,” she said, her voice so rough she almost didn’t recognize it. “I don’t know why you did it, but thank you.”
“To atone,” Seka said simply. “For everything. Everything I’ve done.”
Yori was on her feet and tugging at Leah’s elbow. “She’s right. We have to go.”
Leah stood up, holding one of Mally’s hands tightly in hers. “I can’t carry you,” she said to the little girl. “The ground is too dangerous—I keep falling. Can you run? Can you walk?”
“Yes,” Mally said. “I’m fine.”
Yori turned away. “Then let’s go.”
Seka caught Leah’s arm. “No, not yet,” she said, her voice rising. “You have to kill me. You have to.”
Leah stared at her. “Seka—”
Seka’s grip tightened. “Soulmates,” she insisted. “We would do anything for each other. Anything.”
“I can’t kill you,” Leah said.
For a moment, Seka stared at her, her face a study in grief and shock. Then her features contorted and she loosed a howl of primal agony. She shoved Leah so hard that Leah lost her footing and toppled over, dropping Mally’s hand as she somersaulted twice down the rocky slope. Before she could come to her feet, Seka was upon her, punching her, slashing at her, trying to wrap her hands around Leah’s throat. All this time she continued to howl out wordless wails of betrayal and desperation. Leah kicked and rolled and pushed herself to her knees, digging for her concealed knife—but suddenly Seka jerked backward, gurgled a choked cry, and then fell forward in a lifeless sprawl. Leah, breathing heavily, saw Yori standing behind her, wiping a knife against her tunic.
“Guess we had to give her what she wanted,” Yori said in a cool voi
ce. “Come on. Let’s go.”
“Mally,” Leah breathed, but Mally was right there, crouched on the balls of her feet, watching everything with her eyes big and her face impassive. Leah crawled over, gave her a brief hug and said, “I’m so sorry you saw that. We can talk about it later.”
“She wanted to die,” Mally said. “She said so. She told me.”
Leah hauled herself to her feet, ignoring the flashes of pain from the blows Seka had inflicted and the scrapes she’d accumulated in her fall. She would be a mass of cuts and bruises if she ever got to safety, but she wouldn’t care. If she really made it to safety with her daughter in her arms. “She did,” Leah said, “but we don’t. Come on. Let’s run back to camp.”
Of course, there was no running over the treacherous terrain, but they went as fast as they could, bent forward to keep their balance, hands now and then touching the ground to steady themselves. Yori was in the lead, scrambling up the hillside with the grace of a wild creature, but even she had to slow down now and then to find better footing. Mally was between them, never more than an arm’s length away from Leah, silent and focused. What was she thinking? What terrors had she endured in the past three days? Leah wanted nothing so much as to scoop her up in a tight embrace and promise her the world was safe, but it wasn’t and she didn’t have the leisure to lie right at that moment.
Yori made it to the top of the hill, paused at the pass to glance back at the other two, then angled her body through the slash in the rock face. Leah took Mally’s hand to steady her as the little girl followed the guard, then Leah forced her own body through the narrow passage, picking up a few new cuts and scrapes as she did so. The instant she was on the other side, she grabbed Mally’s hand again.
Yori was standing at stiff attention, staring down and to the left, in the direction of the Karkan camp. She spoke a single flat expletive and kept staring. Leah followed her gaze.
Maybe twenty Karkan soldiers were swarming up the hillside, angled in their direction. The sun was so low on the horizon that it was difficult to see if they carried weapons in their hands, but they hardly needed to. There were too many of them, they were too close, and no one in the Welchin camp seemed to have realized what prize they were after. We can’t outfight them and we can’t outrun them, Leah thought, her body flooding with adrenaline and terror. They will kill us or kidnap us, and no one can save us.