The Last Talisman

by Licia Troisi

  Sennar lowered his gaze and Aires changed the subject. “But how in the world did you end up down here? The rightful place for a councilor is in Makrat, is it not?”

  “I’m not a councilor anymore,” said Sennar, explaining how he’d abandoned his position on the Council to set off on this journey.

  “It must be an important journey then. What made you leave?” Aires asked.

  Nihal knew it was time for her to intervene. “We can’t say.”

  Aires turned toward her with an unreadable expression. “And why is that?”

  “Because countless lives depend upon our mission, and secrecy is all we have.”

  Aires looked over at Sennar.

  “It has to do with the war against the Tyrant,” he added, keeping his words to a minimum.

  She shrugged her shoulders. “If it’s really that serious, trust me, I don’t want to know.”

  For hours, they went on talking, the two old friends reminiscing about their shared past while Nihal stared on idly. Sennar seemed happy, more than happy, to have reconnected with this woman. He gazed intently at her as she spoke and Aires flashed her cat eyes back at him, up and down, as if trying to penetrate into the deepest recesses of his soul. Nihal sulked through the afternoon, gripped with vexation.

  When at last they left Aires’ hut, Nihal felt like being alone. She stepped down from the platform and dipped her bare legs into the water. There were no openings at the top of the cistern so as to keep the rebel base cut off from the world above. How long had it been since they’d run in to Aires? It seemed like an eternity to Nihal, though she figured it couldn’t now be long past sunset.

  She’d been resting for a while, her feet making slow circles in the water, when she heard someone approach from behind.

  “What are you up to?”

  Nihal didn’t turn. “Nothing, just relaxing.”

  Sennar took a seat beside her.

  “What about you?”

  You were with Aires, that’s what you were up to.

  “I took a little nap; I was exhausted,” the sorcerer replied.

  Nihal went on shifting her legs under water. She could tell Sennar was sad, too, though she couldn’t figure out why. Especially now that he’d reconnected with Aires, whom he seemed to care so much about. “Why didn’t you ever tell me about Aires?” she asked.

  Sennar blushed, saying nothing.

  “She was steering the ship, I mean. … And you seem to know each other fairly well,” Nihal pressed.

  “I don’t know. … It slipped my mind. …” Sennar burbled. Then he lay down on his back and stared up at the ceiling of the cistern.

  In that moment, it seemed to Nihal that she’d never felt both so distant and so close to her friend. She lay back and fixed her eyes on the ceiling, staring at the rocky vault in silence.

  For the next four days, they stayed as guests of Aires. She showed them around her underground community, including the two adjacent cisterns, which were under her direct command. The rebels were organized in small groups, each with a designated leader. Among the different groups, only the leaders themselves were in contact. By keeping the individual members cut off from one another, they protected the secrecy of the resistance effort. If any one member fell into enemy hands, only a limited amount of information would be compromised. The organization was like a many-headed beast. For every community that was destroyed or dissolved, hordes of others were still hidden in the belly of the earth, ready to carry on with the mission.

  As a result of their efforts, they’d proved a constant nuisance to the Tyrant. Their principle targets were the many weapon-forging ovens spread throughout the Land of Fire, in existence long before the territory was conquered and located within the volcanoes that defined the region’s tortuous geography. The weapons forged there had always been considered the best and most sturdy in the Overworld. But since the day Moli was dethroned by his son, Dola, nearly the entire population had been forced into slave labor as armorers. From those ovens came the innumerable deathly blades of the Tyrant’s army.

  The rebels raided the forges, freeing the prisoners, killing the guards, and looting the stockpiles.

  “It’s not much,” Aires explained, “but it’s enough to give them a headache. We’re everywhere at once and always attacking, in hopes of slowing their weapons production.”

  But this detour couldn’t last forever, and Nihal was the first to bring up the mission at hand. On the evening of the fourth day, she informed Sennar that she was planning to head out in the morning. She studied the expression on her friend’s face as he absorbed the news, searching for any sign of regret at the idea of having to leave, searching for proof of his affection for Aires. But there was nothing.

  “I was just going to say the same to you,” Sennar replied. “The sooner we get this cursed mission over with, the better.”

  Sennar informed Aires of their decision, alone.

  “You can’t just leave like that,” Aires responded calmly, puffing on her pipe.

  “Please,” Sennar insisted, “don’t try and hold me back. It’s critical that we leave as soon as possible.”

  She eyed him, completely at ease. “I have no intention of holding you back. What I mean is you can’t just take off on your own. You’ll get lost within the first hour and you’ll end up wandering around the canals for a few days before you starve to death. Just like last time we found you.”

  “In truth, a guide’s not such a bad idea,” Sennar admitted.

  “All you have to do is tell me where you’re headed,” she said.

  Sennar sighed. “I can’t.”

  “You don’t have to tell me why,” Aires explained. “I don’t want to know what you’re doing; I just need to know where you’re going, otherwise I can’t take you there.”

  Sennar was thrown off guard. “Are you saying that … that you want to be our guide?”

  Aires took a long drag of her pipe and exhaled the smoke slowly. “I know this place as well as anyone else. It would be my pleasure.”

  “I don’t know if they’ll be too happy about that around here. … You’re in charge, right? You must have certain responsibilities.”

  “Nothing’s ever stopped me from doing what I feel like.” She smiled. “And as the boss around here, I have all the freedom I want to accompany an old friend. Besides, there are others who can fill in for me.”

  “To be honest, we’re not exactly sure where it is we’re headed,” said the sorcerer. “We’re looking for a sort of lake, I believe, with an island in the middle.”

  Aires kicked her feet up on the table and leaned back in her chair. She seemed to be consulting an imaginary map on the hut’s ceiling, searching for the spot. Then she lowered her gaze. “There’s only one lake in the Land of Fire, several miles to the west of here. It’s called Lake Jol, and it’s not exactly a pretty place. Centuries ago there was an enormous volcano there. Its final eruption was fatal. It literally shot up into the air, shrouding the Land of Fire in a cloud of debris for years. In its place, this lake was formed, but the embers of that inferno still burn beneath the surface. At its center is a small island, a lesser volcano in and of itself. It erupts continually, its lava trailing off into the water, sending up a smoke cloud large enough to hide the entire island. The water is toxic and so full of salt you could float a lead weight on it.”

  Sennar recalled the sanctuaries they’d been to so far and the infernal lake seemed a likely enough place to house the stone of fire. “Perfect. I’m afraid that’s where we’ll have to head.”

  “As you wish,” she said.

  Sennar was already making his way out the door when Aires stopped him. “What’s wrong, Sennar?” she asked out of nowhere.

  He stopped short in the doorway, keeping his back to her. “Nothing.”

  “Don’t treat me like a fool. We spent a
mere three months together, but I know you as well as anyone. You’re not the same boy I took to the whirlpool anymore. Something’s different about you. Something—there’s something you’re suffering over. Is it Nihal? You two are made for each other; that’s clear enough just looking at you.”

  Sennar smiled and walked back toward her. “Things have happened to me on this journey that no one should have to suffer. Not ever. I’ve discovered truths I wouldn’t have thought possible, that I’d have preferred never to know. That’s why I’ve changed,” he said, his voice weary. Aires opened her lips as if to speak, but he cut her off. “As for myself, I crossed a line I never thought I was capable of crossing. And the truth is, I wonder now if there really is anyone worth saving, if we haven’t all already lost the way.”

  Aires’s expression changed, as if she’d suddenly let down her guard. “So I finally find redemption and then you go and lose yourself,” she quipped.

  Sennar smiled a bitter smile.

  Aires took another long drag on her pipe. “If it weren’t for you, I might not be here right now. Whatever it is you did, you have to forgive yourself. To go on stewing in your own guilt will get you nowhere.”

  Sennar smiled at her with gratitude, hoping she’d assume he’d taken her advice. But that wasn’t the case. He’d push forward; he’d keep struggling. There was always someone worth saving. But the memory of those pulverized bodies in the clearing would be with him for the rest of his life. And nothing, he knew, would ever be the same.

  26

  A Valuable and Unexpected Lesson

  They set off the following morning. Right away, Aires gave them a taste of the long, treacherous road that lay ahead. The journey began in the worst of ways: on all fours, squeezing through an endless, narrow tunnel.

  “Several of the canals are known to the Tyrant and his men, but these inconvenient passageways are much safer,” Aires explained.

  They traveled at a breakneck pace. Aires was an able guide, moving lithely from tunnel to tunnel. She seemed to know every passage and shortcut like the back of her hand, and not only in her own territory, but throughout the entire aqueduct. Even faced with intersections of up to ten canals, she sped forward without a moment’s hesitation.

  Never once did they cross paths with the enemy, though on several occasions they were forced to change directions on the fly. Aires would stop short and wait motionless, her nose to the air, or she’d crouch down and press her ear to a rock—then she’d lead them down an alternate path.

  “Every once in a while, the enemy will send someone to scope out the area, which is why we destroyed a few of these canals,” she informed them one afternoon.

  Nihal was finding it far easier to put up with Aires than she’d expected. Aside from the times when she broke off to speak with Sennar, gazing at him with her smoldering and provocative eyes, Aires was proving a pleasant travel companion. And after four days without so much as glancing at Nihal, the pirate was at last beginning to speak with her more frequently.

  One day, Aires insisted on challenging Nihal to a sword fight. Nihal accepted gladly, burning with the desire to defeat her and put her in her place once and for all.

  They dueled on a platform in one of the cisterns. The first to wound the opponent or knock her in the water would be the victor. It was a grueling battle, and Nihal dove in with everything she had, using the entire repertoire of tricks she’d picked up on the battlefield. Aires, nonetheless, was an even match, extraordinarily agile, endlessly resourceful—and, above all, willing to play dirty. Nihal understood right away that the duels this woman was used to fighting favored speed and cunning.

  In the end, after a long, impassioned duel, Nihal took the day, knocking Aires into the water after disarming her with a series of rapid strikes. Victory, however, wasn’t as sweet as she’d hoped. She’d enjoyed the duel, had admired her opponent’s skill—and now, with the very woman who’d done nothing but vex her since the moment they’d met, she felt almost at peace.

  The defining moment in their relationship came late the following night. Nihal was on watch duty, sitting beside the fire. Lost in thought, she suddenly heard Aires approaching from behind with her usual, fluid gait.

  Often, watching Aires walk in front of her, Nihal had recalled Eleusi’s description of a true, womanly strut. Back then, she hadn’t really been able to picture it, but the first time she saw Aires’s rolling hips, the almost hypnotic sway, she’d finally understood what it mean to walk like a woman.

  Nihal remained still.

  “Your shift’s up. Looks like it’s my turn,” said Aires, stretching.

  “If you don’t feel like it, you’re fine going back to sleep. I don’t mind staying up a bit longer,” Nihal replied.

  She had no desire to sleep that evening. Closing her eyes, she feared, would only wake the spirits inside her. And after Laio’s death, she was terrified that he, too, would appear among the legions of ghosts that haunted her dreams.

  “Do as you please,” said Aires with a shrug of her shoulders. “I got plenty of sleep though. I’ll stay up and keep watch with you.”

  She extracted her pipe from her leather traveling pouch, managing to imbue even the most masculine of gestures with a certain sensuality.

  “I’d always pictured you differently,” Aires began. “From the way Sennar described you, I had a whole other image in mind.”

  “How did you picture me, then?”

  “Much more … much more of a presence. I was expecting to see some sort of hell-cat, and instead I come across this frightened little girl.”

  Nihal scowled. The description infuriated her. She was a warrior, not some little girl.

  “It’s not an insult,” Aires continued. “A woman’s always a woman. It’s a good thing that you’ve held on to your femininity. It’s just I was expecting some sort of muscular giant.”

  Silence once again filled the space between them. Nihal was ill at ease, while Aires went on casually puffing her pipe.

  “Why don’t you just ask me?” she said without warning.

  Nihal turned toward her. “Ask you what?”

  “You know what. That way you can clear up your gnawing doubts.”

  “I have no doubts,” the half-elf replied, though she could feel her cheeks reddening.

  Aires sighed. “For the entire time I was with him on the boat, I had a lover, the man Sennar and I were talking about the day my guards found you. I was dumb enough to have eyes only for him. There was no time for me to think about your man.”

  “Excuse me?” Nihal blurted, beet red.

  “Sennar,” Aires said nonchalantly. “Your man.”

  “Sennar is my best friend, and that’s all.”

  “Your friend?” Aires repeated skeptically.

  “My only friend,” Nihal added, for the sake of precision, a certain tenderness in her voice.

  “That’s not the way it looks when you’re together.”

  “There’s no time for that sort of thing. All that matters is my mission,” Nihal replied, staring into the fire.

  “I disagree,” said Aires. She took a long drag of her pipe. “When it comes to men, there’s always time.”

  “Not for me,” said Nihal. “This isn’t just my mission. It’s my life.”

  “From what Sennar told me, I thought your life was on the battlefield.”

  “Maybe not, not anymore. …” Nihal murmured. “There has to be something else, something to give the rest meaning, to make it count.”

  “Something to aim at, a cause to live for …” Aires remarked.

  Nihal nodded.

  “Is that what you’re searching for, a cause?”

  “When you spoke of freedom, that first day we met,” Nihal tried explaining, “I admired what you said. And I trusted your words completely. I want to believe in something like that, too, to h
ave a solid purpose in life.”

  “I don’t get it,” said Aires. “You’re a warrior; you’re battling against the Tyrant. Is that not a real and worthy purpose?”

  “No,” Nihal answered, crestfallen. “I’m on this journey now because I have to be, not because I want to be. I fight because that’s all I know. I press on with the hope that I’ll find what I’m looking for one day, but nothing ever turns up. Every so-called solid purpose I’ve found has wavered and crumbled beneath my feet. Maybe there’s just nothing out there to cling to, or at least not for me.” She lifted her eyes, ashamed by her impromptu confession, and saw Aires staring back with a disconcerted look.

  “Perhaps you’ve just been searching in the wrong places,” she said.

  “What about you? How did you find something to believe in?”

  “It’s hard to explain. It was as if one day the truth just revealed itself to me. And it was so clear. … There was no way to deny it. Most likely, it had already been buried inside me for a long time and it rose to the surface at a certain point. You’ve always been a warrior, if I’m not mistaken,” Aires continued. “Have you ever once asked yourself if that was truly your life’s purpose? If maybe it wasn’t something else? If maybe it wasn’t right there beside you all along and you never realized it.”

  Nihal stared, speechless, into the fire.

  “Grand and lofty ideals aren’t the only thing that drive us to live. You have to remember that. Sometimes great conviction is the result of a few small certainties, a few small desires that push us toward glorious acts. Have you ever thought about it that way?”

  Nihal went on gazing into the fire, silent.

  “What about Sennar?” Aires asked suddenly.

  Nihal’s cheeks flushed again. “What does Sennar have to do with it?”

  “Are you able to trust him? To believe in him?”

  “Of course I believe in him! He’s the only person I can trust completely.”

  “Well then you’re lying when you say there’s nothing you’re certain about in life, because one of those certainties is sleeping right here next to you,” Aires concluded. Then she chomped back down on her pipe and began puffing away peacefully.