It would be safer to sell the treasure in the northern continent, but that meant lugging the heavy bag around with her. She was tempted to hide it somewhere, but hadn’t yet found a place she considered secure enough. In the meantime, she was running out of money. There was little profit to be gained as a healer here. Dreamweavers were as common as blacksmiths and cloth merchants. Days before, she had been forced to sell her arem. The money she’d received in exchange should last her until she reached Glymma.
If she could sell some of the gems, she would buy passage to Karienne on a ship. If not, she would have to walk across the Isthmus or see if she could work in exchange for passage on one of the small boats sailing across to Diamyane, the town at the Sennon end of the Isthmus. Either way, she would go up to the Red Caves and The Twins.
The Twins. She smiled. They had been alarmed when they heard of the chance she had taken, leaving the Thinkers on the hunch that the secrets of the gods were among the treasure Ray had stolen. Now they were anxious to see the diamond themselves. Perhaps they would have more success with it than Emerahl had.
She decided she would get no more flesh from the bones of the fish and wiped her hands. Drawing the chain out from beneath her clothes she examined the pendant hanging from it closely. The diamond was held within two intersecting bands of silver. On each band were glyphs. The first or second of each set were upside down:
She looked at the diamond closely. The bands framed the four largest facets. When she held it up to her spark the light cast shapes against the walls. If these were part of a language, it was either so old or obscure she had never encountered it before. The trouble was, neither had The Twins.
As the pendant revolved at the end of the chain, the glyph shadows moved, some to the left, some to the right. The ones turning to the right were blurred and she recognized reversed versions of the shapes turning left. A dark line of shadow crossed the wall as a silver band passed. Lines and glyphs followed.
Then she suddenly recognized a glyph. A full Sorli glyph representing “light.” She turned to stare at the diamond. The facet facing her light was the one contained between the bands marked one light / and two lights / .
She turned the diamond between her fingers, keeping that facet facing toward her. If she read only those glyphs that were the right way up when positioned above the diamond the words were:
One light / one key
Emerahl smiled. Using the same rule, the rest read:
Two lights / two truths
Three lights / three secrets
Four lights / death
Taking hold of the chain, she let the pendant hang again. She moved her spark closer and watched as the lines and shapes on the wall grew larger. Finding the “light” glyph, she felt a thrill as she realized that what she had assumed were more of the unfamiliar symbols were the simple glyphs for numbers.
But the thrill quickly faded. She still couldn’t make sense of it. The unfamiliar glyphs on the reverse side overlapped and obscured the familiar ones. Moving her spark closer only made the effect worse.
If I could just get rid of these symbols from the reverse side…. She blinked, then smiled. Of course, I can. I just have to get the light past them.
But that meant moving her light into the diamond. She wasn’t sure if she could do that without damaging it.
Dropping the pendant into her lap, she considered the risk. Maybe she should wait until she reached The Twins. Or at least ask them if it was possible to move a light into a diamond without damaging it. Perhaps they had tried it before.
She looked at the matting where the treasure was buried.
Perhaps I can try it on another gem first.
First she checked for minds close by. None were closer than the next reed dome, several paces away. She uncovered the treasure quickly and carefully, making sure none of the moist soil spilled onto the matting to hint that something might be buried here. Searching through the jewellery and trinkets, she was pleased to find a diamond set in a thick gold ring tangled among the chains near the top.
Freeing it, she sat back and considered the stone. There were no markings in it. In the past several weeks she had carefully checked all of the treasure and found nothing marked with glyphs or with other significant features.
Bringing her light close, she made it as small and cold as she could. Slowly, she moved it to the surface of the diamond. There was no resistance as, with a push of her will, she shifted it inside.
The effect in the room was quite pretty. The facets of the stone made patterns on the walls. They shifted, the slight movement of her hands magnified so that no matter how hard she tried to keep her hand steady the room looked like it was trembling.
Moving the light out of the gem, she put the ring down and picked up the pendant. Taking a deep breath, she held it as steady as she could and moved her light inside it.
The walls swirled with glyphs and lines, then steadied. She looked around and felt her stomach sink with disappointment. The glyphs still overlapped each other, forming a muddle of unrecognizable symbols. But as she turned to look behind her she felt a small thrill of relief and triumph. One section was clear. Lines and numbers surrounded the glyph she had recognized.
But now it was the curved dark weave of the dome wall that made it difficult for her to understand what she was seeing. She needed a flat wall. Or some other flat surface.
Looking around, she saw that the shawl she had draped over her pack hung relatively flat in places. Removing the light from the diamond, she put the pendant down and picked up her blanket. She hung the blanket from the roof using fishing hooks and twine.
She picked up the diamond and carefully introduced the spark again. Turning the pendant so the one light / one key side faced the blanket, she stared at the shape that appeared.
An octagon, marked with unbroken lines. At the center of this was the glyph for light. Lines of dots crossed the octagon, each marked by a number. The whole diagram shook from the slight tremble of her hands.
She had no idea what it meant. The word “light” within the octagon surely represented a light within the diamond. But what did the numbers and radiating lines mean?
I’ve never been much good with numbers and equations. This is one for The Twins, she decided. She stared at it until she was sure she had memorized everything, then drew her light from the diamond. Hanging the chain around her neck, she replaced the ring and buried the treasure again. Then, making sure the dome was well protected by a barrier of magic, she lay down to sleep.
:At first I thought it was unlikely this Elai child they rescued was a princess, Mirar told Auraya. Surely a princess would be too well-guarded to fall into the hands of raiders. But everyone I’ve skimmed believes it is true.
:So does everyone I’ve encountered.
:Then yesterday Nekaun told me of the treaty with the Elai. He sounded quite proud of the fact, even though he had nothing to do with it. It was all the doing of Second Voice Imenja and her Companion.
:I can’t see the Elai king making a treaty with landwalkers for anything less than the return of his daughter. It is quite a feat.
:And a surprise. I can’t see any great benefit to the Pentadrians in this treaty. The Elai are hardly a powerful or numerous people. They might eventually keep raider numbers down, but that won’t be a huge boost to trade since few Pentadrian traders bother travelling to Toren or Genria.
:But if they can sink ships, they may be a valuable ally in war. The White need to know about this. Auraya paused. Would you send them a message for me?
Mirar felt his stomach sink.
:They wouldn’t believe anything I told them.
:They don’t have to know who it came from. It would have to be an anonymous warning.
:I’m not sure that would be wise. What will the White do to the Elai? If they know the sea people have joined the Pentadrians they may attack them before the battle, in order to keep them out of it. This may be a matter best left concealed. I doubt the
Elai will make much difference in the war, and if the White win at least there’s a chance of peace later.
:The White won’t attack them, Auraya assured him. They need to know their ships are in danger.
Mirar was beginning to wish he hadn’t raised the subject. It seemed wrong to be disagreeing with Auraya when she was trussed up in an underground prison for weeks while he was still an honored guest. And he hadn’t yet found a way to rescue her without his involvement being obvious and ruining the good will between the Dreamweavers and Pentadrians. But he couldn’t let guilt and pity stir him into doing something he didn’t agree with.
:Have you been able to skim minds as far away as the Circlian army? he asked, changing the subject. Have you overheard any of their plans?
:Not yet. I expect I’ll encounter the same problem I have with spying on Pentadrian war councils. Some of the gods will be there, and I’ll have to stay away in case they detect me.
Mirar felt a twinge of apprehension. He could only assume that if he couldn’t sense the gods when mind-skimming, as Auraya could, then they couldn’t sense him. Unfortunately, he was usually busy being shown about the Sanctuary or Glymma by Dedicated Servants whenever a war council was in progress so he never got a chance to spy on them anyway.
:You’ll just have to skim the minds of the Companions after the council, to see what they remember, he told her. And do the same for the advisers of the White.
:Yes, she agreed. Though Companion Reivan’s mind is nearly always on Nekaun.
:She’s completely infatuated, Mirar agreed. Yet I don’t think she actually likes him. I know her mistress doesn’t…Listen to us, gossiping like old women!
:It might be useful gossip, if we can bend the situation to our advantage.
:That’s true. Trouble is, I have no idea how.
:You’ll think of something. Or I will. Not much else to do right now.
Mirar’s heart twisted.
:Are you sure you’re all right?
:Yes. I’m fine. I can endure a bit of physical discomfort.
He did not point out that she was suffering more than that. Though she said nothing, he knew she must be living in constant fear. At any moment Nekaun might decide it was time to kill her. Mirar was not entirely sure why the Pentadrian leader hadn’t yet.
A sound caught his attention and he felt himself drawn out of the dream trance.
:I have to go, Auraya, he said. I will link with you tonight.
:You’d better, she said. Or I’ll…
But he didn’t hear the rest. The knocking at the door of his rooms was loud. Rising from the bed, he looked around and sighed.
I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to forge an understanding with these Voices, that they wouldn’t want me in their lands. Now that I find I’m welcome, I can’t enjoy the fact. If Auraya wasn’t here, I’d be delighted. But because she is their prisoner, I find myself thinking of them as our enemy.
It was a strange and complicated situation, and with the Circlians coming to wage war on the Pentadrians, it wasn’t about to get any simpler.
38
The squeak of the gate opening jolted Auraya’s attention back to her surroundings. She felt her stomach clench as she realized someone was entering the hall, then felt it sink as she saw that the visitor was Nekaun.
As always, questions crowded her mind. Would he free her? Would he kill her? Would he interrogate her, torture her, or ask for some terrible favor in exchange for her freedom?
She took a deep breath, pushed the questions and the fear they brought to the back of her mind, and straightened.
He stopped and regarded her silently, a faint smile curling his lips.
No, it looks like he’ll do the same as last time, she thought in answer to her earlier questions.
She almost longed for the solitude of her first days, when she had been left alone and unattended and the only indication that her presence was remembered were the Servants guarding the gate.
Chained as she was, she could not lie down to sleep. Instead she had to sink into a half-kneeling, half-hanging position. Feeling would slowly leave her arms, and her shoulders and knees would start aching. The cold in the hall didn’t help, but it was the least of her worries.
After a day the cycles of her body had begun to present unpleasant problems. First she grew thirsty, then hunger began to nag at her. Neither were pleasant to endure, but the consequences were less humiliating than the need to relieve herself. She could not remove her clothing or move far from her position. Eventually she had stretched her body as far to one side as she could so at least she would not be standing in her own urine and excrement.
Who’d have thought ordinary physical processes that one tended to every day and barely thought about could cause such distress? She had consoled herself that if they did not bring her food or drink these problems would not bother her for long.
When Nekaun returned after three days she was too weak to stand. He had said nothing but simply looked at her and the mess beside her, his nose wrinkling in disgust. Then his expression became thoughtful and a gleam entered his eyes. He turned to the Servants and spoke.
She nearly cried out a protest at his orders. Catching her tongue between her teeth, she told herself it would be more humiliating to beg and plead than to endure what he planned. And begging probably wouldn’t stop him anyway.
Domestics were brought. They cut away her clothes and threw buckets of cold water over her and the floor. They brought water for her to drink and a thin sludge she guessed was made of some kind of grain. She could not feed herself, so she had to let them tip the water and sludge into her mouth.
By then Nekaun was smiling. The gleam in his eyes intensified when she had been stripped, but disappeared as she was fed. It was clear he was enjoying her humiliation. She was tempted to spit the sludge at him, but she was too hungry to waste it.
That day she discovered she wanted to live. She wasn’t sure how badly yet, but she dreaded finding out what she might be willing to do in order to…and beyond that. At what point would she change her mind and long to die?
If Nekaun was curious to know the answers to the same questions, he was in no hurry to find out. All he had done so far was taunt her.
“Greetings, Auraya,” he said. “I trust you are finding your accommodation satisfactory?”
She ignored him. He asked something similar every time. “Are you enjoying your stay?” “Is there anything I can get for you?”
Seeing movement beyond him, she turned her attention to the domestics that were hurrying into the room. They scuttled past him hesitantly. The first two held buckets of water. She gritted her teeth against the cold of her daily dousing. The second bucket was thrown over the floor then a broom used to sweep feces off the dais.
A third domestic held a bowl of water to Auraya’s mouth. She drank it all, knowing no more would be brought until tomorrow. The last domestic lifted the usual bowl of grainy sludge.
“Stop,” Nekaun said.
Auraya felt her heart sink as the domestic lowered the bowl. She hoped she was managing to keep her expression bland and devoid of fear as Nekaun came closer, sure that any sign of apprehension would only encourage him to find more ways to torment her.
He took the bowl from the domestic, then lifted it to her mouth.
She paused only momentarily. If she refused to eat from his hands he would starve her until she did. Better to pretend it didn’t matter.
He watched her, smiling, as she ate. She did not meet his gaze, instead concentrating on a small scar on the side of his nose. She hadn’t noticed it before. She wondered what had caused it.
The bowl tipped higher, forcing her to gulp to avoid the sludge spilling over the lip and being wasted. When it was empty Nekaun stepped back. He held the bowl out to one side and the domestic hurried over to take it.
“Go,” he told the domestics. They scurried away, relieved. One of them wondered why they feared the First Voice here when they didn�
�t elsewhere. He concluded it was because he had no idea what to expect of the man in this situation. The sorceress was an enemy. Nekaun might order that something awful be done to her, and the domestic didn’t want to be the one to do it.
If Nekaun heard the domestic’s thoughts he gave no sign. He stared at Auraya. She fixed her gaze at the wall past his shoulder. Though she could not sense any thoughts from him she sometimes felt she knew what he was thinking. Like now, when his attention drifted below her face. She knew he was either pretending to be interested in her nakedness in order to intimidate her or…or he was excited by it.
He took a step toward her, then another. She felt her heart begin to race and breathed a little slower, willing herself to remain calm. A step away he paused, his nose wrinkling.
“Really, Auraya,” he said, shaking his head. “You should take better care of yourself. You smell terrible.”
Turning on his heel, he stalked away.
She watched him leave. The Servant guards locked the gate behind him. Footsteps faded to silence.
She sighed with relief.
Just trying to intimidate me, she told herself.
Leaning back against the base of the throne, she closed her eyes and sent her mind out into the world. This was how she spent most of her waking hours. Several times a day she checked on Mischief. One of the domestics had adopted him as her pet. He stayed because Auraya encouraged him to through dream-links and he was used to being left with a carer.
During the evenings she dream-linked with Mirar. The rest of the time she skimmed minds. Being chained up in a cold, empty hall wasn’t exactly stimulating for the mind. At least, not in a good way. Exploring the world kept her mind busy.
It was a secret source of pride to her that she was getting better and better at sensing other minds every day. Each time she reached out she managed to read minds further from her position than she had the previous time. In this way, she heard the rumors of war the day after her imprisonment. Nekaun’s breaking of his vow had made sense then. If the Circlians were invading he would not risk that his attempts to charm her had failed. He knew if he let her go she would probably return to the White to fight with them.
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