She would have had no choice.
"Aye." The woman nodded. "Singers, touchers. Sometimes with magic, sometimes with a rope."
"Made old Faffi hang herself, they did." Yallif said bitterly. "Sang while she knotted the rope, stepped on a box and jumped. Could do nothin' to stop herself."
"All the Gods," Travin whispered. "This is worse than I'd thought."
Laynin had no idea how bad he'd suspected it might be, but it was certainly more horrendous than anything she'd been expecting. If Ara punished her for coming here, she'd take it. They needed to know all of this, however awful.
"Is anyone in Alvarios trying to fight back?"
"Against magin?" The woman asked, shaking her head in disbelief. "Those who try won't get too far. They're pulling no punches. They think they have Euru on their side. Who is to argue with them?" She scowled. "No god I follow would want people to die in their name."
"Just a chicken once in a while," Yallif growled.
"That was one time, and during a drought," the woman retorted. "It worked, didn't it?"
He grunted in reply.
Laynin doubted that killing a chicken would really bring rain, but it seemed like a harmless thing to believe. As long as they didn't start sacrificing dragons. "I can't believe a god would want people dead either," she said diplomatically.
"Don't know if they do," Yallif said. He lowered his pick to the ground and leaned on the handle. "That's what King Tarlu has decided. Maybe it's the magin that want us dead."
"I'm sure it's just some of them." Travin sounded nervous. Laynin didn't blame him. They might decide the magin in front of them could represent the rest of them, and take their fear out on him.
"Aye," Yallif agreed, "well I ain't seen them killing magin who didn't believe in Euru."
"We don't know any," the woman said, giving him a scathing look to match her tone. "For all we know, Faffi was one. She sure had good sense about the weather."
Yallif shrugged and turned away. "We should keep going."
"The border is closed," Laynin said to his back. "King Tarlu has men on the road. If you skirt around, you should be safe."
For the first time, the woman smiled. "Thank you, draakin. We've been traveling for days. We wouldn't want to get there only to be turned back."
"Or worse," Yallif called out behind him.
"Aye," she said softly, "or worse."
Laynin nodded her thanks and Risper moved back a few steps to give them room to pass.
Before they walked on, a little girl of maybe five or six years old ran up to Risper. With a shy smile, she held up her hand to Laynin. She opened it to show a flower she must have picked on her travels. The stem was squashed, but the petals were still a vibrant yellow.
"Is that for me?" Laynin asked. She leaned down and held out her hand.
The girl nodded, handed her the flower and darted off.
Laynin lifted the flower to her nose. It had a soft, sweet fragrance, like honey.
"Thank you," she said to the child's back. She tucked the flower into a pocket and watched the group move on. Some of the adults spoke in low voices as they went. Their hand gestures suggested they were considering her advice, but trying to ascertain the best route to take if they left the road. On the way back, she'd seek them out and see if they were all right. There was little more she could do for them.
"Do you believe all of that?" Travin asked, speaking in her ear. "I mean, I know the followers of Euru are devoted, but killing people who don't follow… It sounds extreme."
"It does," she agreed, "but that doesn't mean it's not true."
"I know, but—"
"Is that what's bothering you?" she asked, more tersely than she intended. "Or is it because they spoke of magin killing people?"
"You don't find that disturbing?"
"Of course I do, but I'm not magin. If they mentioned people on dragons flying about killing people, I'd be worried they'd blame me for it."
"I'd never kill anyone," he said.
"I know that, but they said what they said." She shrugged. "All right, let's keep going. We still have an hour or two of flying ahead of us."
His only response was to grunt. She was too accustomed to Zannis and her moods to let it bother her.
He was scared. So was she. He may regret coming down here, but he was here now. He'd just have to hang on tight until they got back to Tsaisa.
14
They stayed within sight of the road the rest of the way. Every few kilometres Laynin spotted travellers. Some looked like refugees, others were traders with carts and wagons full of goods. On one occasion, they had to veer around trees to avoid being seen by a contingent of soldiers. They gave no sign they had seen the dragon or his passengers, but her heart was in her mouth more and more with each sighting.
Koo is just up ahead, Risper said, sounding as calm as ever.
Laynin nudged Travin with her elbow and pointed.
"We're nearly there."
"I thought it would be bigger," he remarked.
"Why?" she called back, giving a nervous laugh.
"I don't know. I suppose I just can't imagine you coming from a small town. You seem—"
"Yes?"
"I don't know."
She waited for more, but he must have decided to stop before he offended her. It was, after all, a long walk back to Tsaisa from here.
Smiling to herself, she kept her eyes on the ground as Risper banked, circling the small town. It was little more than a few dozen houses, a tavern, a couple of businesses and a dock for the fishing boats. The fleet was moored in a small harbour, where it spent the day before venturing out before sunset. The ritual was one she knew well. Her father had worked on one of them since before she was born, and later owned one of them. She couldn't tell which from here. The entire fleet was built the same way, more or less, only newer masts here and there suggesting differences between them.
The town itself was quiet. Not a single person walked about or was working. Only a tendril of smoke from the blacksmith's suggested any sign of life.
"We're going to land and check it out," she said, turning her head only enough to be heard. "Be ready to leave again immediately if we need to."
"Do you think that'll be necessary?" Travin asked.
"I have no idea, just be ready," she snapped.
"I'm sorry. Of course." He sounded contrite, but she had no time to make up right now. Her heart was in her mouth, and it raced. There were a dozen reasons why the town might look deserted, but she could only focus on one at the moment.
Risper landed neatly on the edge of town.
"Maybe you should stay here," she said, unbuckling her straps.
"I'm coming with you," he said firmly. "Don't argue."
She sighed. "Fine. Then stay close." Her boots thudded as she hit the ground. She grimaced and shrunk down a little, but chided herself a moment later. If there was anyone here, they'd have noticed a dragon long before the sound of boots alerted them to their presence.
Travin's feet made less noise as he dropped down beside her.
"Which is their house?" he asked, his voice low. Again, she knew it was silly. They might as well shout.
In spite of that, she pointed and spoke softly. "The one at the end of the lane." She hadn't been back for months, but the small cottage hadn't changed at all. Flowers in neat rows decorated the outside, most in full bloom. The lack of weeds suggested they'd been tended recently.
Before she got within a few metres of the house, the door creaked open. A form darted out and threw itself at Laynin.
"Scruffy." She knelt to scratch the head of the excited terrier. He wagged his tail and jumped up at her knees, panting with excitement. "Wherever you are, Reeka must be."
She looked up to see her sister standing in the doorway. At eighteen, she was a few years younger than Laynin, but the resemblance was obvious. They both shared the same dark hair, brown eyes, the same shaped face.
"Nin." Reeka stepped out
and hugged her as Laynin straightened up.
"Squirt," Laynin said with a smile.
Her sister grimaced. "I'm taller than you are now," she retorted.
Laynin smiled. "You'll always be my baby sister. Are Mother and Father here?"
"Just in back." Reeka jerked a thumb over her shoulder and moved aside.
"This is Travin," Laynin said briefly.
Reeka nodded at him. "Welcome. Any friend of Nin's and all that."
"Thanks, it's nice to meet you."
In back meant the sitting area to the rear of the cottage. Nothing inside looked out of place, as usual. Her parents liked to keep the house tidy, with everything neat on shelves and in cupboards.
Her mother was seated at the table they used for meals, darning a pair of trousers. Father was sitting nearby, working on a fishing net.
"I was wondering when you'd come by." Kaisen Laithorn looked up from his work as though he'd waited for his daughter to appear at any moment.
Javena murmured her agreement while threading a needle.
Laynin pulled out a chair and sat. "Where is everyone? The town looks deserted."
"They're keeping inside, out of the way," Kaisen said.
"Of what?" Travin asked.
Kaisen and Javena exchanged glances.
"Rosharias' men," Kaisen said with a grunt.
"We saw people fleeing." Laynin told them about the refugees.
"Mmmhmm, some left from here too," Kaisen said, "but our livelihoods are here. And if we have to say we believe in Euru, then that's what we'll do." He'd always been a practical man.
"Father said it's all right to lie at times like this," Reeka said from near the doorway.
"It saved your hide, missy." Javena shook a finger at her.
Laynin shrugged. "I'm just glad you're alive. I thought when we were flying over, that…"
"It'll take more than threats to bother us," her father scolded. She looked at Kaisen, who nodded and lifted the net.
"Reeka, go and take this to Juvis. It's fixed now. Tell him I said to be more careful."
"But—" she started to argue. "Yes Father." She took the net and walked out, Scruffy trotting at her heels.
"Your sister is magin," Kaisen said, his voice a gravelly whisper. "She's a singer. Rosharias' men, they were looking for them. Said if I knew any, I should tell them. Well, I'd rather pretend to worship their god than tell them about my own daughter."
"Goodness knows what they'd do to her," Javena added, her face pale.
"You did the right thing," Laynin said, giving her mother's arm a pat. "But you should come to Marth with us. You'll all be safer there."
"That dragon of yours hold five, can he?" Kaisen said, looking toward the window.
"I can call for help," Laynin said uncertainly. Who could she call for who wouldn't get into just as much trouble with Ara as she would? She didn't dare ask Ara herself to come.
"I could take Reeka and come back for you." It would be a long day for Risper, but he'd manage. Assuming Ara didn't catch her and prevent their return to Koo.
Kaisen put an arm around her and pulled her to him. "As long as we keep our mouths shut about her, we'll be fine. All of this will settle down soon enough. Most people don't care who rules Alvarios, as long as taxes aren't too high and they don't pass laws against drinking ale and whatnot."
Laynin nestled into her father's shoulder and smiled.
"I don't think people would like that much," she agreed, "including the soldiers."
Kaisen chuckled. "Indeed not."
"Still, I'd feel better knowing you're safe."
"We're perfectly safe," Javena assured her. "You know us. We're tough as dragon's talons. Where do you think you got it?"
"I did suspect," Laynin sat up. "But don't think I won't come back as often as I can to check on you."
"You had better," her mother scolded, "you don't come home nearly enough." She shook her needle at her.
Laynin decided to try one more time. "If you lived closer—"
"You're as persistent as your father," Javena said with a smile, "but you inherited stubbornness from us both, worse luck. We're not leaving."
"All right, all right." Laynin held her hands up in surrender. "Take care of each other. And Reeka."
"That we will. That rascal of a pup of hers warns us if anyone comes close."
"That's good." Laynin wished he was big enough to defend them if need be, but he was better than nothing. Although if Reeka could sing, she might do some damage of her own. That thought should have given her comfort, but she felt more unsettled now than she had before.
15
Travin tried to relax and enjoy the flight back to Tsaisa. The food Laynin's mother had prepared sat heavily in his stomach. In the back of his mind he was aware of Risper banking inland and avoiding roads and tracks, or anywhere they might be seen.
For the most part, his mind was turned inward, thoughts about what he'd seen and heard warring to make sense. He narrowly missed getting a face full of Laynin's hair as the wind blew it backwards. He liked her, wanted to trust her, but now he was second-guessing his decision to tell her he was magin.
Up until now, it wasn't something he'd thought too much about. He compared it to his being male, or his preference for men or women. It was just a fact about him, and nothing he needed to announce to people. Even as he thought that, he gave himself a mental shake.
Being a man was one thing, the ability to control people just with touch was something else. The first time he'd done it, he'd scared himself and his mother.
Although he hadn't thought about it in years, his mind wandered back to that day. He hadn't been more than five or six at the time. His mother took his favourite toy—a wooden dragon—because he'd done something or other wrong.
"You'll get it back tomorrow, when you've learnt your lesson," she said, giving him a stern look.
"But Mamma!" A tear rolled down his cheek and his hands curled into small fists of anger. "Want my dragon!" He grabbed for her wrist, wishing all the while that she'd change her mind and give it back.
Her eyes slightly glazed, she reached for his other hand and dropped the dragon onto his palm.
He pulled both hands back, clutching the precious dragon to his chest. "Thank you Mamma!" He turned and went to skip away.
"Wait a minute." The tone of her voice made him turn back, a little fearful that she might have changed her mind again.
"Yes Mamma?"
"I had no intention of giving that back until tomorrow." She looked distant. "I should have known this day would come. After all, your father—" she blinked a few times and looked at him sternly. "Do you understand what you just did?"
He took a step back, scared and confused all at once.
"I'm sorry," he said; the default response when he had no idea what he'd done wrong. His voice wavered, eyes filled with further tears. Travin was almost certain he was in big trouble, maybe big enough that Mamma might put his dragon on the fire. She'd threatened to do that once, but he had never seen her so angry she might actually do it. Now, she didn't seem angry, at least not in the shouty way she got sometimes. No, this was different and it made his body shake.
"I didn't mean to." That seemed like the thing to say. Perhaps he could defuse the situation if he was apologetic enough.
She confused him further when she smiled at him. "Of course you didn't. I should have told you that you might be magin."
Magin. He knew the word, had some basic understanding that it meant someone who could do magic. He frowned. He hadn't done anything extraordinary, he'd just wanted his dragon back.
"I'm sorry," he ventured again.
She gave a soft laugh. "I should scold you, but I don't think you're even aware of what you did."
He smiled and shook his head. Evidently he wasn't in trouble anymore. That was good. Now, if he could just go and play—
"Come and sit down with me. I need to explain to you what you can and can't do now that we know
you're a toucher."
"But—" Suddenly losing his dragon for one night didn't seem so bad. Now he was stuck listening to one of her talks. "Yes Mamma."
By the time she'd finished, he understood that he had a power he wasn't to use because of something called free will, and something else called consent. She'd looked distant when talking about the latter.
"So what can I do with it?" he asked.
"You may use it to sooth angry animals. Even angry friends, as long as they agree to it. You may have to speak to your friends beforehand."
"How will I know they're about to get angry?"
She laughed. "Speak to them when they're not angry. Get their permission to help them when they are. Then you'll know it's all right."
He understood, but couldn't imagine holding such a conversation.
"Can I go and play now?" he asked.
She sighed. "Yes, just be careful with what you do."
He hopped up from where he'd sat on her lap. He took a step away, then turned back and held out his hand, the toy dragon on his palm.
"I was naughty. You should take this until tomorrow," he said, his face solemn.
She took the dragon and put it on the table beside her chair. "He can sit there until then, keeping an eye on you."
"Like real dragons?" he asked, imagining his toy many times larger, catlike eyes blinking slowly as he observed the small boy.
"Just like that," she agreed. "Dragons are always looking out for people and keeping them safe."
Travin didn't know how she knew such a thing, but she was his mother, therefore it must be the truth.
"Go and play now, we have worship in an hour."
"Yes Mamma." Euru was too abstract a concept for a young boy, but he got to sing at worship and that was his favourite thing, second only to dragons. It was—if other adults were to be believed—something he was good at. He didn't know about that, but he liked the praise. Maybe if he sang well enough, Euru would let him have a dragon someday.
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