Desperate thoughts flooded his anxious mind. He should have told her that her Wish was fulfilled after he got her out of Horran. He should have done it after he saved her from the Kuran. Her Wish had been fulfilled long ago, yet he had not spoken the ritual words that released him from its onus. If he had, he could have broken clan bond before leaving her. At least he should have warned her that he would not be there. His decision to go ahead to Rashkar had been the right one, for the boy Arrin was free. Had he not arrived when he had, the Prince would have died, taking with him the chance for the bargain he had made with the King. Still, he would have found a way, but the opportunity had been a good one. If Talsy died, however, he would suffer the consequences of failing a Wish. It would haunt him for the rest of his life.
The gale that howled around him tossed him like chaff, and his tiny wings beat the cold air with a desperation born of dread. Spying a dot in the sea ahead, he veered towards it. The ship wallowed in the foaming waves, her sails shredded by his wind, listing as mighty swells swept over her, threatening to capsize her. He swooped down to land with a flutter on the deck. Before he could invoke the change, the faint warning of Dolana told him that Talsy was not on board. He took wing again, soaring above the rolling ship, where sailors clung to ropes and railings as they fought the raging sea. Again he commanded Ashmar to sweep him onwards, leaving the ship behind.
Talsy gasped as the wind slashed her with driven spray and great foaming waves washed over her, sucking her under as she struggled to keep her head in the air. She kept her eyes closed, for the salt stung them, and there was nothing to see but black heaving waves and the cold glimmer of stars. A howling wind whipped the ocean into a fury, making it almost impossible to breathe anything but water in one form or another.
The moments when she was underwater were calm and peaceful compared to the turmoil above, and she was tempted to give up and sink into the quiet depths. Why did she continue to struggle? Chanter had left her, the ship was gone and no hope of rescue remained. Perhaps it was the fear of death, not knowing what lay in store for her when she let herself sink. Soon there would be no more choice. The sea would claim its own.
Her father's bearded face appeared in her mind, shaking sadly, mouthing the words he had spoken before. Never trust a Mujar, he will only let you down. The woman in the forest appeared, and shrieked that Chanter would break her heart and leave her alone in the wilderness to die. He had done both, and the pain of her shattered trust almost outweighed the terror of her approaching death. She coughed as a wave leapt into her mouth, bringing her back from her memories. Her numb legs flailed, barely responding to the commands of her brain, and the water closed more frequently over her face, weakening her further.
Talsy tensed at a splash beside her, then strong, warm arms enfolded and lifted her. Two Powers swirled as they were invoked, Ashmar and Shissar. The wind died and the ocean calmed as if smoothed by a giant hand to the flatness of a millpond. Warmth flooded into her from the sleek form pressed against her, and he kicked at the sea, holding her up.
"Hold onto me, Talsy."
She tried to open her burning eyes. "Chanter?"
"I'm here. Hold on."
Tears of weakness and relief filled her eyes as she tried to comply, but no strength remained in her limbs, and she shook her head. He grunted and invoked Shissar again. Something cold and solid pressed against her feet. She sobbed with terror and clung to his neck. Chanter held her, hushing her mewling cries as the cold solidity beneath her rose. Her legs buckled, and he knelt beside her as they were raised from the cold sea. A gentle rain fell; big, warm drops that rinsed off the brine while the Mujar rubbed the saltiness from her eyes. The sweet water ran into her mouth, and she licked it from her lips. Chanter's power swirled around them, and the downpour increased. He cupped his hand to catch the rain, and trickled it into her mouth. She sucked at it, washing the sea's harsh taste away.
Too befuddled to care how he did it, she clung to him as the rain washed her and the solid something held her above the dreaded sea. All she knew was that her throat's rawness and the burning of her injured nose and salty eyes were gone. Slumped against him, she soaked up his warmth and comfort, too tired to care about anything else. He wiped the matted hair from her face, and the rain stopped as she opened her eyes to look up at him. In the darkness, he was little more than a shadow beside her, moonlight gleaming on his hair and skin.
"You left me," she accused.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Regret, Talsy."
"Why?" she demanded.
"I thought you were safe. I went ahead to rescue the boy."
She thumped his chest. "Damn you!"
Talsy burst into tears, releasing the terror of her ordeal in the flood, hating and loving his strong silent presence and his arms around her. The weeping sapped the last of her strength, and, as it drained her terror and despair, her eyes closed and an exhausted sleep swept over her.
Chapter Eleven
When Talsy woke, Chanter held her pillowed against his shoulder. Warm sunlight flooded from a bright blue sky where fluffy white clouds wandered. The sea stretched away all around, as calm as a sheet of gently undulating glass. Talsy sat up, freeing herself from the Mujar's embrace, and studied the huge piece of ice on which they sat. It bobbed in the swells, ripples fanning out from its edges.
Talsy turned accusing eyes upon her saviour. "I could have died."
"Yes." His face was expressionless.
"Don't give me that silent Mujar crap," she snapped. "Talk to me."
Chanter made a graceful gesture. "Regret."
"What the hell does that mean?"
"I have caused you pain. Wish."
"I don't want a damned Wish!" She scowled at him. "I want an apology!"
He regarded her with puzzled eyes, a smile curving his sensual lips, then bowed his head. "I'm sorry, my little clan. I made a mistake. It almost cost your life, and I apologise. Punish me if you wish, take out your anger, I won't be offended."
Talsy stared at him, and he flashed her a fire-blue glance with a grin. The memory of the terror she had endured washed away the temptation to join in his gaiety, however. She thumped him as hard as she could, a puny blow on his shoulder that made her slip and almost sprawl on the ice, but for the support of his hands that flashed out to hold her. Talsy slapped and punched him, hating his alien humbleness and disarming allure, as well as the immense power he commanded. Hated him for being Mujar.
"You damned Mujar!" she wept. "I was all alone, scared out of my wits! You left me to die! Why did you come back? Why bother to calm the seas and stop the wind, just to rescue a worthless Lowman?"
Chanter's brows rose at her use of the Mujar name for her people. He let her pummel him while he held her to prevent her slipping. She soon exhausted the little strength she had and slumped against him, allowing him to hold her and stroke her hair.
"So now you hate Mujar too?" he enquired.
"No," she groaned. "I love you." Flinging her arms around his neck, she clung to him and sobbed into his chest.
Clearly bewildered by her strange, tumultuous Lowman emotions, Chanter patted her back. "I didn't leave you to die. I thought you were safe. When I heard the warning, I came as fast as I could. That's what caused the wind."
"I thought you had left me. I was frightened!" she wailed. "Everyone has warned me that you'll abandon me one day!"
"I won't," he assured her. "As long as we have clan bond, I will fulfil my side of the bargain."
She sighed and hiccupped. "Don't leave me again."
"I won't, as long as we have clan bond, I promise."
Satisfied, she snuggled close to him, her eyes heavy with fatigue, and the iceberg's rocking lulled her into an exhausted slumber. Before she drifted off, she became aware that the iceberg moved against the breeze. Chanter, she realised, commanded the deep ocean currents to push the berg towards Rashkar, where he evidently had unfinished business. The distant shoreline was a d
ark smudge on the horizon, coming closer.
When Talsy woke again, the sun sank towards the horizon. The dark smudge of land had swelled, revealing beaches and cliffs, forests and grassland. While they waited, Talsy questioned Chanter about what had happened to him in Rashkar, and he gave her a brief explanation. At the end of it, she wondered how trustworthy King Garsh was, and whether he would fulfil his side of the agreement.
The sun sank and the moon rose as the iceberg drifted closer to land, until it loomed dark before them, waves foaming on the shore. Chanter brought the berg right up to the beach, and Talsy stepped off without getting her feet wet. As soon as they were ashore, the ice melted away without a trace. Stumbling with tiredness and hunger, she followed him up the beach to a secluded grove, where he paused to contemplate her. She knew what he was thinking. Without a tent or bedding, she was ill equipped to spend a night in the open. She needed shelter and food.
"Do you still have money?" he asked.
She groped at her belt and found the bag of coins. "Yes."
"Good. I'll take you to Rashkar. You can buy food and rent somewhere to sleep for the night."
"What about you?"
"I'll be fine." He smiled. "Since it was my fault that you lost the equipment for the comforts, I'll do without them for now."
She nodded, too tired to argue.
The black stallion carried her to the city gates, where she dismounted and walked within to find an inn. She ate a hearty meal of roast beef and boiled vegetables in her room before falling asleep in a soft bed. In her dreams, she sank into the black depths, trying to claw her way towards the glimmer of moonlight high above, and woke yelling Chanter's name.
The following morning, she bought a new bag and supplies before returning to the woods to cook the Mujar a meal, which he consumed with relish. Talsy eyed her handsome companion while they ate.
"Why are we here? If the boy's been released, surely the Wish is fulfilled?"
"No. I agreed to bring him home, so I must wait until he emerges from the city, then see to it that he returns to his father safely."
Talsy smiled at the Mujar's innocence. "What if he doesn't? He might decide to stay here, even if King Garsh has released him."
"Then I'll have to find him. At least in the city he'll be easier to find than in the barracks, where they all look the same."
"That's assuming the King kept his bargain."
Chanter nodded.
"What if he hasn't?"
"Then I was a fool to deal with Lowmen."
Talsy looked away, unable to meet his eyes. She was ashamed of her people, for she doubted that the King had released the boy. Truemen, or maybe Lowmen was a better name for them, hated Mujar to such an extent that doing anything at the request of one was a dire insult. Most likely the hapless boy had been locked in a dungeon somewhere, and the King was scheming, even now, of how to trap the Mujar and throw him in a Pit. She could not allow that to happen. She must protect Chanter from her people.
With studied nonchalance, she enquired, "What's his name, this boy?"
"Arrin Torquil. Why do you ask?"
She shrugged. "Just curious." Putting aside her empty bowl, she said, "I'm going back into the city. There are still some things I need to buy."
His eyes narrowed. "Such as?"
"A new knife, a tent, bedding."
"Have you enough money?"
"I hope so." In truth, her supply of silver was low, and she planned to try her hand at pickpocketing. Chanter gazed at her, his brow furrowed. Perhaps he sensed that she was lying, for his expression was doubtful.
"I can help with that," he said. "Hold your breath."
Talsy obeyed, knowing that he was about to invoke a Power. He placed his hands on the ground, and icy cold clamped down, freezing the air into momentary solidity. When it passed, he raised his hands and stared at the ground, his eyes luminous. Talsy wondered what was going to happen.
The result of his power was not as dramatic as she had expected. The ground swelled, then fell open like a blossoming flower. He plucked something from the mound of soil, brushed it off and held it out to her.
"I believe Lowmen like these."
Talsy took a stone the size of a hen's egg from his hand and stared at it in awe. A deep red glow emanated from the ruby's depths, its muted fire mottled by dirt and flaws. She looked up at him.
"How did you do that?"
He shrugged. "I called it up."
"Are there more?"
Chanter smiled. "Plenty, but one is enough."
Talsy washed and polished the stone before tucking it into her purse. No wonder Mujar were not interested in earning wealth when they could simply call it up from the earth. Another reason Truemen envied Mujar. While Truemen grubbed in the soil, sweated and toiled to make a paltry living, a Mujar could summon a fortune from the bosom of the earth with a mere thought. Chanter had handed her a king's ransom as if it was just another pebble. She packed away the pots and plates, then stood and shouldered the bag.
"I won't be too long. I'll return here at dusk with more food."
"I'll be watching."
With a brisk nod, she headed for the city. Chanter waited until she was far down the road before transforming into a raven with a rush of Ashmar.
In the city, Talsy found a lively market in a suburb close to the gates and bought a thick fur coat and another tent. Like the rest of the city, the market was clean and ordered, with street sweepers to clear away the rubbish and gay awnings shading brightly painted stalls. Smiling, friendly people populated it, and merchants cried their wares and haggled with customers. Her shopping done, she got directions from a trader and headed for the barracks, determined to find out if Arrin Torquil had been released. At a dusty parade ground, a blue-uniformed guard with silver armour and a cream-plumed helmet allowed her in and showed her to an officer's billet. Ugly square buildings with narrow, barred windows and grey slate roofs surrounded the yard, giving it a grim atmosphere, and the officer's room proved to be just as stark and unpleasant.
A tall, hard-eyed man with a well-trimmed beard rose from behind a scarred desk at her entry. His uniform had gold ornamentation on the sleeves and shoulders, a yellow sash was knotted around his waist, and a silver sword hung on his hip. The sentry stated her business, saluted and left. The officer eyed her as he sank back into his chair, put his quill down and spliced his fingers.
"You're looking for Arrin Torquil?"
She nodded.
"His sister, I suppose?" His tone was sarcastic.
"Cousin, actually."
"I see no family resemblance."
"Step cousin. We're related by marriage," she said.
"Ah. And what is your business with him?"
"I wish to visit him, that's all. Is that allowed?"
The officer showed long yellow teeth. "Of course. Odd, though. Young Arrin has been with us for almost a year, and no family has visited him before."
"That's because we all live in the Yamshar province, where he was snatched from."
The officer's thick brows rose, and his teeth vanished behind red lips. "Snatched? Young Arrin is a volunteer, miss."
"Have it your way." Talsy refused to be side tracked. "Is he here?"
"Of course he is. Where else would he be?"
On his way home, if your king was honest, she thought, and raised her chin to glare at him. The officer shuffled papers on his desk, cleared his throat and scratched his nose, looking rather smug.
"Unfortunately, right now he's being disciplined." Again his yellow teeth appeared as he failed to stifle a triumphant sneer. "It seems that a Mujar came here asking for him to be freed, so it stands to reason that he's a Mujar lover and he's being treated accordingly." He eyed her with raised brows, a slight, supercilious smile twisting his thick lips. "You wouldn't happen to know of any Mujar, would you, miss?"
Talsy shook her head, trying to hide her anxiety. "May I see him?"
The officer looked thoughtful, gazing i
nto space for a moment as if contemplating the troubles of the world. "Well, now, that could be arranged, but you won't be able to speak to him."
Talsy nodded, and he rose to his feet, gesturing, with exaggerated courtesy, for her to precede him. Clearly he considered a ragged girl far beneath his class, and, while his condescending attitude irked her, his snide inferences made her nervous. Talsy entered the vast, sandy parade ground, her heart hammering with tension, which grew worse when two guardsmen fell in beside her at a signal from the officer. They marched her across the parade ground as if she was a prisoner, the officer leading the way. He took her to a walled yard, at the centre of which a red-haired man sagged against a wooden frame. His wrists were bound to it and his back was bloody with lash marks. His bowed head hid his face, and he wore only a ragged pair of dirty brown trousers. Talsy strived not to show the sickness the sight caused her, turning away.
"This just because some damned Mujar came asking for him?"
The officer nodded. "He must be a scum lover, don't you agree?"
"What if someone else sent the Mujar?"
His eyes narrowed. "You think so?"
"It's possible, isn't it?" she pointed out, not wishing to make him any more suspicious than he already was. Now she longed to get away from the army camp, realising that she had made a mistake in coming here.
"It's just as possible that he's a scum lover," the officer asserted. "We don't believe in taking chances."
"I think you're just a bunch of sadistic bastards," Talsy said, unable to rein her temper.
The officer leant closer, his brown eyes intent and his manner threatening. "Well, of course it's understandable to be upset to see your cousin like this, but perhaps you know more than you're telling, eh, miss?"
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