‘What is it?’ Aravelle asked, hardly able to believe her eyes.
‘The ship’s master says it’s a sign the sea god favours us. At least, that’s how the sea-vermin see it.’ Saskar laughed at the absurdity of this.
He seemed very ready to laugh. Everyone did.
‘Come on.’ He took her hand. ‘Hueryx sent me to make sure that you were all right.’
To make sure that we hadn’t killed the children, Aravelle thought grimly.
She passed Itania to Redravia. Her little sister was still drowsy, and went to the old woman without complaint. Struck by Itania’s vulnerability, Aravelle felt a fierce love fill her chest as she kissed her little sister’s forehead. Not for a heartbeat did she regret protecting Itania, and she could not really be blamed for Hariorta’s death. But she was certain Charsoria would hold it against her.
Following Saskar across the mid-deck, she climbed the stairs to the foredeck. He led her through the celebrating warriors towards their all-father.
When Hueryx turned around, his hair was plastered to his head, revealing the sharp blades of his cheekbones. His armour was stained with dried blood and his gift was riding him. The rippling reflection of the blue light danced on his pale features, making him appear strange and fey.
‘Vella.’ That familiar grin, Ronnyn’s grin, tugged at his lips and crinkled his forehead. ‘See, I told you not to worry.’
‘No, because you meant for us to kill the children.’
‘To save you from the Mieren. But you didn’t have to. We –’
‘Hariorta’s dead. She panicked and tried to kill the children. I had to –’
‘Vella killed her to protect the children,’ Saskar reported.
‘It was an accident,’ Aravelle protested.
But Hueryx laughed then hugged her, lifting her off the ground. He put her down and planted a kiss on her forehead.
The physical contact made his gift surge through Aravelle like warmth on a winter night. She refused to let down her guard, no matter how sweet it was.
The all-father pulled back to study her. ‘If only you’d been born pure T’En. I would have been tempted to hide you like Rohaayel hid Imoshen!’ He hugged her again.
This time she had no trouble maintaining her defences.
She hated being second-best.
In fact, she refused to be second-best.
IMOSHEN UNROLLED THE last message-stone ribbon and began to write, but a whimper stopped her. She lifted her head. Another whimper followed. The children were being bathed.Who…
‘Tancred?’ Guilt struck her. He’d been forgotten. She crossed the cabin and found him huddled behind the changing screen. She crouched down to his level. ‘It’s safe now, you can come out. Gift-tutor Sarodyti killed the fiant.’
Chin on his knees, arms over his head, the geldr refused to meet her eyes.
‘The power-worker is –’
‘Gone, but…’ – Tancred shivered – ‘angry shades are everywhere.’
Opening her gift senses, she glanced around the cabin. He was right. Although the bodies of the sea-vermin had been thrown overboard, their shades remained.
Soon they would be called to the empyrean plane. But right now they were frightened, angry and vindictive, and they wanted to seek out those who’d killed them. If the T’En responsible for their death still lived, they would try to drag them through to the empyrean plane. If they had died, the vengeful shades would seek them on the higher plane. The empyrean predators would have a feast tonight.
‘That’s why we must purify the ship. Do not fear, Tancred.’ Imoshen stood. ‘The most experienced of our sisters will stand guard tonight. We’ll be safe from these shades.’
He looked up at her with growing hope.
‘Here we are, children,’ Tiasarone said, as she led them out of the bathing chamber into the cabin. ‘Time for bed.’
Imoshen took baby Arodyti from Frayvia, while her devotee settled Umaleni and Deyne. They were drowsy from the hot posset, and drifted off quickly.
Looking down on her sleeping children, on all the sisterhood’s children, Imoshen could have wept with relief.
Once the baby was fed, she passed her to Frayvia and returned Sorne’s neck torc before resuming her seat at the desk.
Egrayne entered, spotted her and headed across the cabin.
Imoshen lifted a finger to her lips. ‘Almost done.’
She completed the last message and waved it in the air to dry.
‘You’ve been busy.’ Her voice-of-reason gestured to the temporary shutters over the broken windows and the clean cabin.
‘The children needed to be settled. They’ve had more than enough disruptions.’ Imoshen rolled the ribbon around the last message-stone and placed it in the basket with the rest, one for each of the other ships. ‘There. I’ve claimed stature for Gift-warrior Sarodyti. Told them how she sacrificed herself to save the fleet from a fiant. And I told them I called down the blue flame to honour our dead. That should satisfy everyone.’
Egrayne accepted the basket and handed it to her devotee, who hurried away.
‘We lost three T’En warriors, Imoshen,’ Egrayne said, ‘one empowered lad and seven Malaunje warriors. And we may yet lose two more. There are simply too many injured for Reoden to help. The losses on the brotherhood ships will be much worse.’
‘I know.’
Egrayne took Imoshen’s arm. ‘They want you to lead the farewell ceremony.’
‘Wait.’ She went across to where Tancred watched them from the shadows. ‘Come out and see the blue fire dance on the masts. Come out, before you miss it.’
Childlike, Tancred forgot his fear and came to his feet.
The women of her sisterhood lined the lower rear-deck rail. Beyond them, blue fire clung to the mid-deck masts. Wordlessly, they parted for Imoshen.
The Malaunje of her sisterhood had gathered on the mid-deck. They murmured her name, over and over. Bathed in the eerie blue light, their mulberry eyes and copper hair appeared black.
Tancred laughed and held his hand to catch the light. ‘Pretty.’
Like a moth to a candle, blue flame gathered on his fingertips.
Egrayne glanced to Imoshen. Until this moment, they had believed only Imoshen could call the blue fire.
Frightened, Tancred waved his hand about, blundering into Imoshen. She steadied him, running her fingers up his forearm and over his fingers so that the blue flame transferred to her hand. ‘There, I have it now.’
A smile trembled on his soft-cheeked face.
Just then, Reoden and her seconds came out of the foredeck cabins.
‘I invited them to join us for the farewell ceremony,’ Egrayne said. ‘It should have been me, not Saro, who died.’
Imoshen squeezed Egrayne’s hand, then beckoned the healer. ‘Ree, bring your people up to join us.’
As they did this, Imoshen looked down on her ship, then out across the fleet. The seven ships sat with their sails lowered, drifting on the current. A multitude of stars illuminated the sky. Though both moons were waning, there was still enough light to cast shadows.
‘Ready, Imoshen?’ Egrayne asked.
Had she ever been ready for what life had thrust upon her?
‘Ready.’ She took a deep breath then began to honour their dead.
SORNE WOKE WITH the sense that something was not right with the boat. The first thing he noticed was the sail, hanging loose on the mast. The wind had dropped, which would explain why the boat was moving so sluggishly through the sea, but it still felt wrong.
Not sure what the problem was he looked up at the sky. It was night and he had asked to be woken just after sunset. Judging from the position of the moons, the night was half over. Both moons were on the wane, but there was still enough light for him to see that every child on the boat was fast asleep.
He rolled to his feet, stiff from sleeping for so long. Making his way across a deck littered with sleeping children, he went past the small cabin to
the stern, where he found the two brothers fast asleep, with Yosune curled up next to them.
He adjusted the sail and tried to pick their course by the stars. Then he woke the children. They were most apologetic. He sent Yosune to Tiasely to see if there was anything warm he could eat.
Taking the rudder, he felt the boat respond as the sail caught what little wind there was, but the vessel was still strangely sluggish.
A few moments later, Yosune came running back to him.
‘Come quick.’
He left the rudder in Vivane’s hands, with Vivore advising him.
A light glowed in the small cabin. The toddlers slept packed in the two bunks. Tiasely had lifted the hatch to the hold, and she knelt beside it, holding a lantern.
‘Look.’ She lowered the lantern into the hold. It wasn’t deep. It shouldn’t have been filled with dark water. ‘There wasn’t any water last time I looked. All our stores are ruined.’
Sorne sank to his knees. This was why the boat wasn’t responding properly. She was too heavy and riding low in the sea. The water flowing back and forth in the hold was crippling her. ‘When did you last check the hold?’
‘When I cooked dinner at dusk.’
And it was only halfway through the night.
‘The ship’s sprung a leak,’ Yosune whispered.
Sorne nodded and signalled for silence. At the rate the hold was filling… It was hard to tell, but he suspected they had until around midday tomorrow before she sank.
‘We need all the pots, pans and buckets you can find,’ he said. ‘We’re going to have to bail. Get the bigger children onto it.’
He wasn’t sure how far they were from the coast of Ivernia. He wasn’t even sure if they had passed the tip of the north island yet. So much for his plan of sailing south-west until they hit land.
They had to attract the attention of a fishing vessel or a merchant ship. Hopefully they should be nearing Ivernia now, and entering the shipping lanes.
He left Tiasely and Yosune to organise bailing the hold, and went back to the rudder.
‘What is it?’ Vivane asked.
‘I want you two to light every lantern you can find and hang them on the mast and the cabin. I want the boat lit up bright as day. Then I want you to look around and see what you can find to make a raft.’
Their eyes grew very wide.
‘We’re sinking?’ Vivore asked.
‘Very slowly,’ Sorne said. ‘So don’t frighten the little ones. Just take a look and report back to me.’
They nodded and ran off.
If the worst happened, they could put the smallest of the children on the raft and the others could hold onto it and drift with it. But the water was cold. They would not be able to keep that up for long.
Sorne watched the sail, the horizon and the sky, concentrating on the feel of the boat as she struggled through the seas, and willed the craft to stay afloat.
Chapter Forty-One
TOBAZIM UNROLLED THE message. ‘The causare says the sea-raiders had a fiant!’
‘What?’ Norsasno had been inspecting the temporary shutters. Now he held out his hand.
Tobazim handed him the scroll.
The hand-of-force frowned as he read the news, then looked up. ‘When I joined the brotherhood I was taught that every dead sister weakened a sisterhood and made our brotherhoods stronger, but now…’
‘Every dead T’En weakens the T’Enatuath,’ Ardonyx said from the doorway.
That reminded Tobazim. Something had been bothering him since he saw the blue fire. It was something important, and the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach told him it was something he did not want to confront.
‘Tobazim.’ Ardonyx crossed the cabin. ‘Our dead have been laid out on the mid-deck. Everyone’s waiting for you.’
Tobazim did not want to go out there. Every loss diminished him, every loss felt personal. He did not know if other all-fathers felt their brotherhood’s grief so deeply. He suspected they didn’t, and wondered if the new facet of his gift left him vulnerable to his brotherhood’s losses.
Ardonyx’s hand settled on his shoulder, firm and warm. ‘They want you to lead the farewell ceremony, Tobazim. The attack was devastating. They need words to inspire them, words to make their loss worthwhile, to justify their loved ones’ deaths and validate their grief.’
At Ardonyx’s words, a rush of conviction filled Tobazim. And in that same instant he realised the nature of Ardonyx’s gift.
He was the rarest of kind of wordsmith. Not only could he choose the right words to say, but he could imbue them with power. Tobazim had heard of only one other living T’En with this power. According to rumour, the playwright who wrote under the penname of Rutz had had this gift. He’d been from Chariode’s brotherhood, too. But no one had known this identity because…
Because he was Ardonyx.
With realisation came understanding. Since the night they formed the shield-brother bond, Tobazim had sensed that Ardonyx was hiding something.
The very nature of his gift.
He gestured to Norsasno and the Malaunje. ‘Some privacy, please.’
‘What is it?’ Ardonyx asked, as soon as they were alone. ‘What troubles you?’
He wasn’t using his gift now. He didn’t need to. He instinctively knew the right words to say. It was only when he sensed his words would not be enough that he added the little push of power, as he’d done earlier when Norsasno complained that the causare had held off calling down the blue fire to let the brotherhoods suffer.
For all Tobazim knew, Ardonyx had been doing this all along. During brotherhood confrontations the gifts always ran high, so no one would notice if Ardonyx enforced his words with power.
‘Our shield-brother bond is based on a lie of omission,’ Tobazim said. ‘There’s something you haven’t told me.’
‘What’re you talking about?’ Ardonyx let his arm drop, looking ever so slightly wary.
‘You’re lying to me now.’
‘That’s rich, coming from you. You’re the one who wouldn’t admit to your own shield-brother that you were suffering from gift-addiction.’
‘We weren’t shield-brothers then, and I’ve overcome it. Besides, this isn’t about me. It’s about you and our shield-brother bond. The night we took the oath, I revealed my gift. You showed me a glimpse of your power, but not enough for me to understand its nature.’
Ardonyx went very still for a heartbeat, then Tobazim thought he appeared relieved.
‘You should be the one to lead the farewell,’ Tobazim told him. ‘You’re that rarest of wordsmiths. You can imbue words with power. You’re the playwright Rutz.’
His shield-brother’s mouth twisted in a wry smile. ‘Took you long enough.’
But Tobazim refused to be charmed. ‘It was your gift that helped you convince Kyredeon to take you into his brotherhood, even though you came from the inner circle of another brotherhood. Tonight, when we talked about the blue fire, you used your gift to divert Norsasno. Why?’
‘Anger and blame are pointless. We had work to do.’
It was true, but…
‘Ask yourself this,’ Ardonyx said. ‘Have I ever used my gift for anything but the good of our people? And it’s a flawed gift at best. I could not save my ships and cargo when I returned from the Lagoons of Perpetual Summer.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘For precisely the reason we stand here now, having this conversation.’ Ardonyx shrugged. ‘Honestly, how could I have told you back when I first entered your brotherhood? Then, I did not know that you were going to become my shield-brother. And if Kyredeon had suspected the true nature of my gift, he would have had me killed.’
Everything he said made sense, but Tobazim still felt betrayed.
‘Have I offended you, shield-brother? I don’t want this to come between us,’ Ardonyx said. ‘You can trust me.’
‘To say the things you think I want to hear.’
‘No.
I say the things I believe you need to hear even if they are not welcome. That is what an all-father’s voice-of-reason does.’
But even this was what Tobazim wanted to hear.
There was a knock on the door.
Tobazim raised his voice. ‘Come in.’
‘They’re ready for you,’ Norsasno said. ‘And the warriors have been asking if you’ll arrange trystings.’
‘Tonight?’
‘We’ve survived death’s shadow. We want to bathe in sisterhood power.’ Norsasno had trouble controlling the rise of his eager gift. ‘It’s natural after what we’ve been through.’
‘We’ll see.’ Tobazim headed for the door.
‘Tobazim?’ Ardonyx called.
He paused, shut the door on Norsasno and turned around. Ardonyx was the person he most admired. The gift his shield-brother had been cursed with was one of the rare, dangerous powers that could get a T’En killed just for having it. No wonder he’d hidden its nature even from his shield-brother.
‘Are we all right?’ Ardonyx asked, his voice raw.
‘Yes.’ Tobazim saw his shoulders relax. ‘But don’t ever lie to me again. It must be all or nothing.’
Ardonyx looked down, then up. ‘All or nothing it is.’
And they left the cabin together.
Hueryx and his brothers filled the foredeck, while Malaunje from both their brotherhoods shared the mid-deck. They remembered the fallen, celebrated their lives and then they sang. The voices from both brotherhoods combined, deep and powerful, as the blue fire flickered on the masts above them.
When this was done, there was silence, then a soft murmuring as the Malaunje parted for Hueryx and his inner circle.
Tobazim came down the steps to meet the all-father on the mid-deck.
‘I hear you’re arranging for trystings,’ Hueryx said. There was cheering from the brotherhood warriors. ‘I expect the causare will be honouring you with a trysting, to recognise your voice-of-reason’s role as fleet commander. Or will she strip Ardonyx of his command, since we’ve suffered such terrible losses?’
A ripple of angry muttering travelled through the gathering. Tobazim thought they’d come through the attack pretty well, considering the odds, but his brotherhood expected him to fully support Ardonyx. Anything less would appear weak.
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