Home Ground (Darshian Tales #4)

by Ann Somerville

  The boy was just waiting for his chance. With a cheeky look, he jumped up and spread his hands. At once a massive fireball exploded over their heads, sending everyone fleeing and screaming.

  “Kilinze! Stop that!” Jozin yelled.

  “Damn it!” Tovoi shouted, jumping up and signalling to his soldiers to restore calm. “Kilinze, stop it!”

  The fireball suddenly shrank to a mere handspan, became no brighter than half a dozen candles. But the harm had already been done. Where there had been curiosity, now there was fear, and in a more than few faces, raw terror. As the fireball disappeared completely, people stood, and many bolted straight for the mayor’s residence, seeking safe harbour from this menace.

  Wepizi got to his feet, and put his hands to his mouth. “Everyone—wait! Please—come back. You won’t be harmed!”

  Juimei came to his side. “Yes, come back! The boy won’t hurt you. Kilinze, apologise.”

  Wepizi nudged the boy, and though he got a sulky pout, the next thing he heard was Kilinze’s piping voice in his head. “It’s all right, honest. I was showing off. Come back—I won’t hurt anyone, I promise.”

  A few of the hardier souls stopped and turned, and one or two walked back, though with no great enthusiasm. The three of them kept cajoling and reassuring until nearly all the onlookers were near the podium—some clearly would not return, and those that did, kept a wary eye on Kilinze.

  “Not funny or clever, my friend,” Wepizi muttered to the boy.

  “I’m sorry.” He did actually look shame-faced. Pity the lessons never seemed to stick.

  “You will be,” Nuveize said in a stern voice. “Everyone, please—I apologise for the youngster. He has no manners at all.”

  “That he has not,” Elder Frankel said grumpily.

  “No, he hasn’t,” Wepizi said, tugging Kilinze in front of him, and wagging his finger. “Behave.”

  “I will, I promise.”

  “Good.” Wepizi suddenly realised he had exceeded his position by some way. He bowed politely to the prince, who only nodded, his expression revealing nothing at all. He sat down, and resisted the urge to put a certain Blessed over his knee for such an idiotic prank.

  “I think we’ve had enough of you, my lad,” Nuveize said quellingly, and Kilinze sat down. “Allow me to introduce Iome, who definitely has more manners. She has the power of winds. Iome?”

  A breeze began to blow, gently at first, and then it became a rushing gale, very tightly focussed, slamming shut the doors of a series of shops, and making the flag on the mayoral residence fly completely straight. A pile of dust and leaves was turned into a little whirlwind that danced prettily around the crowd, and there was some nervous laugher as she made it bow and flutter in front of the prince like a puppet, before releasing it into a sad little heap on the ground.

  “Thank you, dear. And there you have it. One of us is ill and in the infirmary, so she can’t meet you today—she has power over water. The other is Blessed by the senses.” She bowed. “Very glad to meet you all.”

  The onlookers still seemed rather stunned, and there was a lot of muttering, the tone of which Wepizi could only guess at from his position. Juimei took the opportunity to come forward again. “Everyone, Nuveize and her kind have been living in hiding since the era of the warlords. This is the first time any of them have appeared in public, or shown their powers. They have asked for refuge in this town, and I have gladly offered it.”

  A familiar figure pushed his way forward—Mayor Gixiel. “All very well, your highness—but can these party tricks serve this town or are we to support them simply to avoid being roasted?”

  Wepizi turned a baleful eye on the mayor—what an unimaginative creature. Juimei smiled pleasantly.

  “Funny you should mention that, your honour. You will recall that the mine road was miraculously cleared by another small earthquake a week ago? That was no earthquake—it was our friend, Jozin.”

  The mayor looked rather startled, but collected himself. “So you claim,” he said heavily.

  “Yes, I do. You’re not calling me a liar, I sincerely hope.” The mayor scowled, but said no more. Juimei smiled again, though with no real affection behind it. “However, I understand your scepticism. Jozin has agreed to another, somewhat more useful demonstration, but it requires us to go down by the river. Who among you cares to attend?”

  The mayor looked about him, then raised his hand. “Of course I will. I’m not scared of these children.”

  “You should be,” Wepizi thought. Nuveize turned to him, an ironic smile on her lips. “No offence, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  Several others raised their hands. “Come on, this is a chance to see something to tell your grandchildren about,” Juimei said. A few more hands were raised. “Fine. Jozin?”

  Without any gesture, or even apparent emotion, Jozin acted, and once again Wepizi found himself floating in the air. This time he had company—a dozen astonished civilians, the soldiers, the prince, Neime, and all the Blessed.

  “Everyone, be calm—you’re completely safe,” Juimei assured them, as the people left behind pointed up at them and called, some in obvious fear. “You won’t fall. Anyone else want to join us? Anyone want to go back?”

  No one wanted to leave, and two more people were levitated slowly up to join the rest of their party. The mayor kept blinking as if he simply could not believe his eyes. Tovoi made a good fist of staying calm, but his eyes were wide with surprise nonetheless. “By the benevolent god, this is....”

  “Incredible, yes, I know. It’s even more impressive when you’re looking down on top of the Tuqul range.”

  Tovoi stared at him. “Is that where you went that day? This is what caused all the ruckus?”

  “Yes. Let’s not discuss that here,” he added, since the prince was giving him an odd look.

  “Everyone, we’re just going downriver. Relax—you’ll come to no harm,” Jozin said, again showing that once he used his powers, he was a lot happier and more confident.

  Like the good soldier he was, Tovoi got over his shock quickly enough and used the unexpected vantage point to do as Wepizi had done a week before and assess the damage to the town. “It looks so much worse up here. Overwhelming.”

  “But it’s not. The main fault is about twenty miles northeast, across the mine road. It could have been worse.”

  “Yes—it could have happened at night,” Tovoi said soberly. Wepizi nodded—they had been lucky. Or blessed. One or the other.

  He realised Jozin was heading for the lock and sunken ship, and knew now what the display would be. Everyone else seemed rather confused—at least, those not privy to the plans. The Blessed had apparently arranged this themselves. Only Tovoi and the prince had been involved.

  Jozin brought them all to almost above the lock, near the bluffs which had shivered and spilled boulders down so fatally upon the river. The lock keeper’s house had been all but destroyed—fortunately, no one had been inside at the time, but it was uninhabitable, and he and his family were now refugees in Dizeindo. Not that he was needed for now—the lock gates were jammed by the rocks and rubble that had spilled down the cliff face, and the lock itself barricaded by the sunken barge. Until the lock was operational again, no boat bigger than a canoe would get past the weir, and the mayor’s paper and cloth would have to stay where they were.

  But help might be at hand, Wepizi suspected.

  “Everyone, stay calm.”

  That was Jozin again, before he and Helinoa flew down closer to the lock. At first, nothing seemed to be happening, but then the water began to boil, and Wepizi heard the grinding of rock against rock, low and threatening. Suddenly something breached the lock’s surface, and shot above it—a boulder as big as a doig, as fast as a pebble from a slingshot, sent high into the air to be crushed in a massive crack and explosion, the gravel pouring back down over the river. People gasped in shock, staring up at the remains of a ton of rock, ground up like a handful
of breadcrumbs and scattered to the winds.

  That was only the start. Massive stones and piles of rubble in and around the lock gates rose like so much dust, floating gently high over their heads, up over the cliff and out of sight. The lock gates were freed, just like that. Helinoa gestured, and the great stones and rocks that had crushed the lock keeper’s house also rose and disappeared past the cliffs, leaving the sad remnants of a family home at the waterside. The lock keeper wouldn’t be returning there for a while—and they would need to resite it, in case another earthquake repeated the damage.

  But for now, the most pressing problem was the submerged barge, its hull obscenely exposed to their gaze in the narrow lock. Jozin waved his hand at it.

  “Your highness, do you want it on or out of the water?”

  “Tezrei?”

  Wepizi almost answered, then remembered in time to keep his mouth shut. Tovoi cleared his throat. “Depends on if it’ll float.”

  “Try it on the water first, please, Jozin,” Juimei said.

  Jozin nodded, and the water churned as the boat started to move. More gasps of surprise, no one yet immune to the amazement that Jozin’s powers wrought. He ignored everything but the task in hand, and even the cheerful Helinoa also concentrated hard. This would be something well out of their experience, and Wepizi hoped for everyone’s sake, they could handle this, because experts in such a manoeuvre were unlikely to be easily found.

  Slowly the drowned ship rose, streaming water in great torrents out of bilges and portholes, and, as it was turned over, off its damaged decks. Higher and higher the boat came, until it was quite clear of the river, and then Jozin let it hang there in the air to drain. “Wepizi? Do you want to examine it?”

  “Tezrei Tovoi and his highness might want to do so,” Wepizi corrected.

  “We all should,” the prince said politely. “Jozin?”

  The three of them drifted down closer to the boat.

  “The hull doesn’t seem to be breached, though the masts are ruined,” Tovoi said, once he’d had a chance to look it over. “I’m no expert in boats, but I’d have thought it could be moored and repaired. Can he bring it up river?”

  “Jozin?” Juimei asked. “Can you carry it as far as the docks at the town?”

  “Of course,” the boy said carelessly, and the boat moved along the course of the river, like a ghost vessel. Everyone floated along in its wake, the broken ship trailing water along the river. As they approached the town and the temporary camp, they caused huge excitement. People washing, doing laundry, or fetching water, stopped dead at the sight—there were screams of terror, but there were also gasps and cries of raw astonishment. Children ran, trying to chase the strange caravan, but they had no hope of catching it—for all the silence and the effortlessness of their motion, they travelled faster than the fastest doig could ever manage, and they approached the docks in only a couple of minutes.

  There, the boat was lowered carefully to the water, sending huge waves against the jetty, to the consternation of the dock workers and the few still manning the now silent mills. Tovoi told Jozin how to position the thing, and Jozin even considerately tossed down the mooring ropes, before bringing everyone back to earth, down on the long jetty.

  “By the benevolent god! How astonishing! A miracle indeed!” the mayor cried, clapping his hands together in glee. “Your highness, if these young people can be put to work in this town, think of how productive we could be! We could all make a fortune.”

  The man, fool though he was, realised his danger as Juimei approached, his expression as cold and haughty as Wepizi had ever seen it.

  “You see people who can literally move a mountain with a thought, and all you can think is how you can use them in your bloody mills, your honour? You’re a fool. A greedy, stupid, limited fool. Jozin and his kin are not your servants. They’re not anyone’s servants. What service they give is given freely. What support we give is given without thought of return.”

  “But I would pay them—”

  “I don’t need your money, old man. I can pull gemstones out of the mountains, if wealth is all I want,” Jozin said with a sneer. “Besides, you’re ugly.”

  “Joz, don’t be rude,” Nuveize murmured. “At least, not too rude.” Wepizi hid a grin behind his hand and his moustache.

  “I won’t work for him,” Kilinze said. “I’m going to school.”

  “Only if you promise not to set things on fire,” Juimei said quellingly. “I think you can take it that you won’t be making a fortune off the talents of the Blessed, Mayor Gixiel. Which is fortunate, because his majesty and council have made it well known that the Blessed are assets for our entire nation. They may reside here now. We don’t ‘own’ them.”

  The silly man huffed at the prince. “But we’re to have the expense of feeding them, I see.”

  “Offset it with what the river being cleared just saved you, you damn idiot. Anyone else got any questions?”

  Tovoi cleared his throat. “Your highness—if the young people would like to help in the reconstruction, there are many things they could do.” Wepizi got the impression this had been rehearsed between Tovoi and the prince.

  “Naturally,” Juimei said with a much more pleasant smile. “Jozin and the others have already offered to do that. The reason I wanted you to meet them all is that you’d all better get used to seeing people flying, and the occasional fireball,” he said, giving Kilinze a reproachful look. “The Blessed have been persecuted, feared, driven from their homes, and their families killed. That time is long past. They now dwell under the personal protection of the king and council. No one will harass or harm them.”

  “And what about them harming us?” someone called out from the back. “That boy could fry us to a crisp.”

  “Yes, he could. He could have done that at any point before today. But he won’t. I have their personal oaths no one will be harmed or threatened by their talents, and if there is a dispute or harassment, my office will deal with it. We have a covenant. Not one entered into lightly, and one which I plan to uphold with all the power at my disposal. The details might need a little polishing, but I know I can trust even our most impetuous young friend here not to abuse his position.”

  “Time will tell,” one of the elders muttered. “I suppose that makes you their keeper, does it, your highness?”

  “I’ll settle for ‘friend’.” Juimei’s glare could have shattered ice. “Keepers work with animals. Not people.”

  The elder cleared his throat. “No, of course. I meant no disrespect.”

  “Of course not. But people will take their tone from you all,” Juimei said, looking at all the civilians, even the soldiers. “If you incite fear, they’ll feel fear. If you see this as the benefit I believe it to be, then our friends will be welcomed, and their assistance gratefully received. I think you can imagine which will serve this community best.”

  Nuveize smiled at them all. “You have nothing to fear from us, truly. We’re much more afraid of you.”

  One of the women raised her hand. “Uh, you mentioned school. Do you mean to have these children in with the others?” Wepizi recalled she was one of the teachers.

  “Yes, if possible. I realise the difficulties,” Juimei said. “Not least because these seven have been isolated most of their lives. But Kilinze is prepared to exercise restraint—or have it exercised for him,” he added with a quelling look at the grinning youngster. “We should at least try, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, your highness. Maybe once things settle, we could talk to them, see how they want to proceed.”

  “I leave that up to you, you’re the expert, not I. Anyone else? Then we’re done. Thank you all—I know this has been a momentous experience. I hope not an unpleasant one.”

  People bowed, and then walked back along the pier. As they did, dockers approached and asked for permission to board the ship. Juimei gave it, and indicated that he and the others should get out of the way.

  “Jo
zin, perhaps you could return us to the residence.”

  Jozin nodded, and once again, Wepizi and the others floated upwards, and headed the short distance north to the governor’s residence. He brought them to rest in the stable yard, to the astonishment of the stable master and lads. Juimei gave them brief assurances, then dismissed them.

  “Well done, Jozin,” the prince said, turning to the Blessed. “Well done, all of you. Except you, you little brat,” he said aiming a cuff at Kilinze’s head. The boy only grinned and ducked behind Helinoa.

  “It went well,” Nuveize said gravely. “Even Kilinze’s stupidity might have been a good thing, in a strange way—because the rest of us look so much safer.”

  “Yes, you did. And the lock being cleared is a real boon. We need to move carefully—but now you don’t need to hide your real natures.”

  “Kilinze does,” Neime said firmly. Neime had been rather quiet until now—Wepizi wondered if he and the prince were out of sorts again, but he seemed fine now. “Come on, you lot—time for tea, and perhaps even a biscuit or two, if Cook’s managed them.”

  Kilinze yelled with excitement and tore off towards the house. Neime rolled his eyes and indicated the others should go in after the boy, but before he followed their guests, he came over to Wepizi.

  “I’m glad you came,” he said simply.

  “Always of service, my friend,” Wepizi said bowing. Neime smiled and then walked off.

  That left only the prince, who was staring at him in a most disconcerting manner. After a moment or two of uncomfortable silence, Tovoi coughed.

  “Wepizi, I’ve got to get back to the barracks. You can head on up to the building site when you’re ready.”

  Wepizi saluted, Tovoi returning it with an ironic lift of his eyebrow and a significant glance at the prince. Wepizi doubted the prince missed the significance of the gesture in any way. The prince rarely missed anything that could be interpreted as an insult, he suspected.

  If the man hadn’t still been staring at him, Wepizi would have simply gone back to work. But it was clear the prince had something to say, so Wepizi waited patiently until he could spit it out.