“But now the Tide’s on the turn,” Tiji said, risking a spoonful of the chowder. It didn’t seem to be poisoned. In fact, it was even more delicious than it smelled. She added through a mouthful of fish, “That changes all the rules.”
The suzerain nodded. “I fear it might, but we’ve not discussed the implications yet, either among ourselves or with the Crasii elders.”
“You know you’ll always be welcome here, my lady.”
“Thank you, Azquil,” she said with a smile. “We don’t want to leave, but eventually we may not have a choice. That rank smell, you—and all Scards, for that matter—associate with my kind will only get worse as the Tide rises.”
Tiji swallowed another spoonful of chowder as she turned to Azquil. “Doesn’t the stench bother you? Or are you a proper Crasii, just tripping over his own scales to do the bidding of the suzerain?”
Ambria answered before Azquil could. “There are only Scard chameleons left here in the wetlands, Tiji. We are guests here at their pleasure and will leave as soon as they ask us to.”
“You’ll forgive me if I don’t believe you, my lady, but this all sounds a bit too convenient to me. And it’s not that I don’t appreciate the food. It’s just that in my experience, the suzerain aren’t usually so accommodating.”
“In your experience?” Ambria asked. “How many immortals have you met, Tiji?”
Tiji held up her hand and began ticking them off on her fingers with her spoon. “Cayal, Brynden, Kinta—although technically we never met, I was just in the same room—Jaxyn, Syrolee, Elyssa, Tryan—who threatened to kill me, by the way—”
Azquil looked dumbfounded. “Are you serious? You’ve met all of these immortals?”
“Told you my life was interesting.”
“Where are they?” Ambria asked.
Tiji’s eyes narrowed. “If you’re not interested in joining them, my lady, why do you care?”
“I care because we don’t want them coming here.”
“If you know where the other immortals are, the elders will want to know too,” Azquil told her, quite excited by the prospect.
Tiji glared at the two of them suspiciously for a moment, and then she shrugged. With the Tide on the rise, what difference would it make what she told them about the location of the Tide Lords? Soon enough, they’d announce themselves and the whole Tide-forsaken world would know where they were. “Last time I saw the Immortal Prince, he was in Torlenia. So are Kinta and Brynden. Kinta’s the Imperator’s Consort there and we figure she’s lining things up for Brynden to take over when the Tide’s up a bit more.”
“That would not be out of character for either of them,” Ambria agreed. “You said you’d met Syrolee and her family?”
Tiji nodded. “Some of them. In Caelum. Syrolee is posing as the Duchess of Torfail and desperately trying to marry her son off to the crown princess. Elyssa is with them, and although I never actually saw him in the flesh, I believe Engarhod is with them too.”
“But not Krydence or Rance?”
Tiji shook her head, wondering why she was asking about the others, until she recalled Ambria had once been married to Krydence.
Is she asking about him because she wants to find him or hide from him?
“Where did you meet Jaxyn?”
“In Glaeba. He was the Kennel Master for the Duke of Lebec. Oh, and the girl posing as the duke’s niece is probably Diala, but I never met her, so I can’t be sure about that one.”
Ambria frowned. “Diala and Jaxyn are in cahoots this time? That’s not a very pleasant prospect.”
No kidding, Tiji thought, but she didn’t offer her opinion aloud. “Oh, I know where Maralyce is too. Sort of.”
“In the Shevron Mountains northeast of Lebec?” Ambria asked. When Tiji stared at her in surprise, she added, “Maralyce hasn’t moved from her mine for a long time. We all know where to find her.”
“So that leaves Pellys, Lukys, Krydence, Taryx, Rance, Lyna and Kentravyon unaccounted for,” Azquil said.
Ambria shook her head. “There’s no need to worry about Kentravyon. I know where he is and he’s not going anywhere.”
“What about the others?”
The suzerain thought for a moment and then shrugged. “Pellys is the one to be concerned about, but having said that, he’s usually only dangerous if he gets upset. The others aren’t powerful enough to do any real damage. I’d be happier if I knew what Lukys was up to, though.” Ambria rose from the table. “Eat up, Tiji. You’ve barely touched a bite.”
“I seem to have lost my appetite,” she said, pushing the bowl away.
“I haven’t,” Azquil said, pulling the bowl toward him. “Do you mind?”
“Be my guest.”
He began tucking into her leftovers as a voice called out from the front of the building. Ambria wiped her hands on her apron and excused herself, leaving Tiji alone with Azquil.
“Do you believe her?” she asked.
“Ambria delivered me, Tiji, and Arryl saved my mother and my sister from the swamp fever the last time it hit us. Why would I not believe her?”
Tiji wrinkled her forehead thoughtfully. “Are you sure this swamp fever is real? I mean, they can do things like that, you know.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Well, if you believe there’s a fever only the suzerain can save you from, of course you’re going to be nice to them. But suppose they’re responsible for the fever? Suppose they create it to make you think you need them?”
“You’ve been around your human spymaster too long, Tiji,” Azquil said. “You see plots where none exist.”
“Or I see things with fresh eyes.”
He shook his head. “Your logic is flawed. The Tide is only now returning. The Trinity have had no magical powers since they’ve been here, so they can’t be responsible for causing it. Besides, swamp fever, once it takes a hold, affects everyone, human and Crasii, alike. The Trinity are immune because they’re immortal, which means they’re the only ones who can move about freely without catching the disease or spreading it.”
“You said Arryl saved your mother and sister.”
“Because she sat up all night with them, keeping their temperatures down with cold compresses, and making sure they didn’t dehydrate, Tiji. There wasn’t any magic involved.”
Tiji didn’t get a chance to argue further, because at that moment Ambria returned with another chameleon, a female several years younger than Azquil. The newcomer smiled broadly when she saw him. Azquil jumped to his feet, hurried around the table and embraced her, which made Tiji feel a little less special.
It seemed she wasn’t the only one Azquil liked to hug.
“You’re back!” the chameleon said. “Mother always worries about you so when you’re away, you reckless boy. Is this the Lost One you found?”
Azquil nodded, and turned to introduce her. “Tiji, this is Tenika. My little sister.”
Tiji smiled, unreasonably pleased this attractive young female was Azquil’s sister and not something more . . . complicated.
“Hello.”
Tenika disentangled herself from her brother’s embrace so she could hug Tiji. Apparently it was a family trait, this desire to hug each other on the slightest excuse. Or maybe it was a chameleon thing? Tiji didn’t know enough about her own species to be sure. And the prospect of families was quite terrifying when she thought about it.
“Oh, welcome home, you poor thing!” Tenika gushed. “Has Azquil been looking after you? Has he explained anything about us? Do we know anything about your family? Where you’re from? Are you hurt? Was it awfully bad out there? What a pity you arrived just as the swamp fever is taking hold. You can’t go back to the main settlement, of course, because you’ve probably never been exposed to the fever, so you’ll catch it for sure. I’m all right, of course, because I’ve had it, and so has Azquil, but we don’t want to risk you catching it and dying on us, just when we’ve saved you and brought you home. You should
go to Watershed.” The little Crasii had barely drawn a breath and was grinning broadly as she spoke, as if she’d only been allowed a minute to tell everybody everything she’d ever have to say.
A little overwhelmed by Tenika’s verbal torrent, Tiji looked to Azquil for clarification. “Watershed?”
“She means Watershed Falls. It’s a small settlement southeast of here. We passed it on the way here. The population is mostly Crasii, but there are a few humans, canines and several chameleons living there too. We won’t be out of place, and they have a healer who visits on a regular basis if either of us gets sick.”
“It’s a good idea,” Ambria agreed. “Tenika is right. You really can’t risk the settlement until the outbreak is contained and it would be such a pity to lose you so soon after finding you, Tiji.” She smiled fondly at Azquil. “Although I suspect it would take something a good deal more determined than a dangerous fever to put this young lizard down.”
“You see! I knew it was a good idea!” Tenika said, beaming. “And I’ve brought a boat, so I can take you now, if you want. Then I’d better get back home. Lady Arryl and Lady Medwen need all the help they can get, and it’s only the survivors of the last outbreak, like me and Azquil, who can risk moving among the infected ones.”
Tiji shook her head at the fundamental wrongness of this bizarre arrangement the chameleons had made with the suzerain, but didn’t see any alternative other than to go along with it.
“Watershed Falls it is, then,” she said, trying to inject some enthusiasm into her voice. A part of her wanted to flee this place, while another part of her hungered for the opportunity to connect with her own kind, even if that meant living in the shadow of these supposedly benign immortals.
Chapter 18
“Will he be glad to see us?”
Cayal glanced across at Pellys. The older man had been chattering away for hours as they rode, and Cayal had been paying little or no attention to what he was saying. The camels they’d hired were remarkably well mannered and had given them very few problems, for which Cayal was extremely grateful. He wouldn’t have put it past Pellys to hop off the beast and break its neck if it gave him too much trouble. “Who?”
“Lukys?” Pellys said. “Do you think he’ll be happy to see us?”
“Thrilled to the very core of his being, I’m sure.”
Pellys grinned, taking Cayal literally. He had no concept of irony or sarcasm. “I can’t wait to see Coron, too. Do you think he’ll remember me? I remember him. Some things I don’t remember, but I remember Coron.”
Cayal didn’t answer that one, not sure what Pellys would do if he learned Coron, Lukys’s pet rat; was dead—particularly as he was supposed to have been an immortal rat. It was hard to say if Pellys could reason out the implications of such news, and right now he was being cooperative; Cayal didn’t want to do anything to set him off. “He has a wife again, you know, so you’ll have to be on your best behaviour.”
“Where did Lukys get a wife from?” Pellys sounded genuinely puzzled, as if he’d been on the lookout for a wife himself and hadn’t been able to find a merchant who could sell him one.
“Think he got this one in Ramahn.”
“I’d like a wife. Do you think he’d find me one?”
“Didn’t you have a wife once?” Cayal asked, wondering if he still remembered Syrolee.
Pellys thought for a moment. “I think so. I remember asking a whore in Elvere if she wanted to be my wife, but she said no, so I had to kill her.”
His matter-of-fact tone was chilling, even to Cayal, who was used to Pellys’s strange take on the world.
“That wasn’t very nice,” he said, squinting into the setting sun as they rode west along the last stretch of road leading to Lukys’s Torlenian villa. “And I’m pretty sure Lukys would like to keep his wife for a while, so no killing her, even if she says something you don’t like, all right?”
“All right.”
“Promise me.”
“I promise I won’t kill . . . what’s her name?”
“Oritha.”
“I promise I won’t kill Oritha. At least not until Lukys says I can.”
“I’m sure he’ll be touched by your forbearance, Pellys. And no killing anybody else without asking first, while we’re at it.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s messy and it leaves the rest of us with too much explaining to do.”
“But we’re Tide Lords. We don’t have to explain anything to anybody.”
And wouldn’t I like to get my hands around the throat of the idiot who planted that particular notion in your empty, impressionable, newly regenerated head.
“But the Tide’s not all the way back yet, Pellys. And it won’t be for a while. We’ll need to be careful for a little longer yet.”
Pellys grinned from ear to ear, making him look very young—almost as young as his emotional age, which had never progressed much beyond that of a child since his head grew back after Cayal decapitated him. Looking at him now—at this dangerous, ingenuous halfwit—Cayal was glad, for the first time since he’d set out to get himself beheaded to make the memories of his interminable life go away, that he hadn’t been successful.
Had the headsman been there the day he was scheduled to be executed in Lebec almost a year ago, he would now be no better than Pellys—ignorant, innocent, gullible and dangerous.
And I would never have met Arkady . . .
He pushed the thought aside impatiently. She was lost to him and it was better for everyone that way.
Oblivious to Cayal’s dark thoughts, Pellys was still grinning at him. “Tide’s on the turn, Cayal. I can feel it.”
“I know.”
“It feels good.”
“I know.”
“You know lots of stuff,” Pellys concluded with a sage nod. “I think that’s why I like you.”
Cayal was saved from answering by the appearance of Lukys’s villa on the horizon.
He urged his camel into a canter. Pellys flopped about in his saddle behind him, probably wondering, Cayal feared, what else he could kill now that Lukys’s wife and any other humans he might encounter, were denied him.
“Lord Cayal,” Oritha said, bowing respectfully as she entered the main hall of the villa.
“My lady,” Cayal replied, bowing with equal respect. “This is Pellys. He is . . . a distant cousin of your husband’s. I brought him here in the hopes your husband had returned from his trip?”
Oritha shook her head. “I fear not, my lord. Quite the contrary, in fact. He sent word to inform me he’s not coming home.”
“He’s abandoning Torlenia?” That didn’t really make sense. Lukys was settled here and he wasn’t nomadic by nature. “Where is he staying now?”
“Jelidia.” She smiled enthusiastically. “He wants me to join him.”
“He’s staying in Jelidia?” Cayal repeated, shaking his head.
Oritha nodded, but before she could answer, Pellys grabbed Cayal by the shoulder and spun him around to face him. “Isn’t Lukys here?” he asked. “But you said he would be, Cayal. You said he wanted to see me. You said he was waiting for me . . .”
“And he is waiting for you,” Cayal said, trying to placate him. “I just got muddled up where he is at the moment. I was wrong about the place, that’s all. He’s not here. He’s gone to Jelidia.”
“What’s in Jelidia?”
Nothing but trouble, Cayal was tempted to reply.
“A palace of extraordinary beauty,” Oritha told Pellys, smiling in anticipation. “Ryda assures me the home he has waiting for me there is so beautiful, it’s impossible to imagine it, even in a dream.”
Cayal turned to Oritha with interest. “Lukys isn’t planning to come back to Torlenia at all?”
“I gather not.” She clutched his arm reassuringly. “You needn’t be concerned, though. The letter he sent me and the instructions for finding the new palace quite specifically extend his hospitality to you, Lord Cayal.
He states, in fact, that you should bring any other members of your family who are willing to aid your endeavour to our new home in Jelidia, as soon as you can.” She turned and smiled warmly at Pellys. “That would include you, my lord.”
Pellys elbowed Cayal none too gently. “She called me my lord.”
“I heard,” Cayal muttered distractedly, trying to imagine what Lukys was up to. He doubted he’d relocated to Jelidia because he’d tired of the desert heat. And if he was just going down there to check on Kentravyon, why go to all the trouble of building a house down there?
“Did your husband’s letter mention any other members of . . . the family?”
She shook her head. “No, my lord.”
“I want food,” Pellys said. “I’m starving.”
“You only think you’re starving, Pellys,” Cayal told him, and then he smiled at Oritha, who was looking at Pellys with a rather wary eye. “Some refreshments wouldn’t go astray, though.” He wasn’t hungry or thirsty, but food and drink would give both Pellys and Oritha something to do while Cayal thought this through.
Oritha bowed again. “Of course, my lord. Please, make yourselves at home. I’ll arrange dinner.”
“I like her,” Pellys announced, dropping onto one of the couches in the main hall, as Oritha withdrew. He stretched luxuriously and looked around. “This is a nice place. And she’s going to cook for us. Glad you told me not to kill her.”
“I told you not to kill anything,” Cayal reminded him, taking a seat on the couch opposite. “Do you want to go to Jelidia with her to see Lukys?”
“It’s cold in Jelidia.”
“You don’t feel the cold, Pellys.”
“But it’s all full of snow and ice. There’s nothing to see down there. And nothing to do. Although breaking glaciers might be fun.”
The Palace of Impossible Dreams Page 13