Ero laid Memek on a sofa near the extinguished brazier. The young woman grimaced, her face tired and closed. Covered with multicolored blankets, the furniture didn’t seem as comfortable as she would have liked. Domino noticed that the bandage around her leg was stained with blood. Once again, he couldn’t help but think of Gus.
Domino came out of his thoughts and lit a fire in the brazier. At the other end of the room, Ero was watching the place with a circumspect glance. About two months of traveling separated them from their home, yet there was little here to remind them of the life the Uetos had built for themselves in Surhok.
Because these nichans aren’t led by the same chief. They don’t hide in the woods, isolated from the rest of the world.
Nothing but guesswork—Domino had to admit it. But something about the Riskans and this town seemed particularly . . . human. The armors, the fortress, the elaborate tents. Ero and his disciples had always made it a point of honor not to behave like humans, to stay close to their ancestors. However, Lienn was closer to their nichan ancestors than anyone else they knew.
The three had barely had time to adjust to the size or even the smell of the house when Lienn returned to them, alone, more clothed than she’d been until now.
Because she changed from one physical form to another throughout the day, the young woman, until today, had appeared in human form only dressed in a thick tunic, decorated with fur at the collar, which she tied at the waist. A glance at her had suggested to Domino that she was wearing nothing underneath. A garment easy to put on and take off between each metamorphosis.
Now she wore sandals with wooden soles, hiding her toes. Ribbons held them on her feet, wrapping around her ankles in a simple knot. She wore dark woolen trousers, topped with a long shawl similar to the one the Uetos wore in winter. Hers was a warmer variant, pleated at the bottom and hemmed with ermine fur and elegant embroidery depicting clouds of birds. She also wore a white shirt—Domino had never seen such a white cloth—crossed over her chest and neck, hiding most of her honorary tattoo.
Domino stood up and greeted her with a nod and a smile.
She returned the nod, gaze going from his face to the embers reddening in the hearth. “This is one of the best houses in the village.” She stopped on the carpet that marked the entrance to the room. (A village. Domino pursed his lips. He’d never seen such a place and would have felt ridiculous calling Visha and its fort a village.) “I hope you’ll be comfortable here.”
At last the blaze finally caught fire. Near the door he’d just closed, Ero observed Lienn, his eyes unreadable but unkind.
“It’s perfect. Thank you,” said Domino. She finally returned his smile. “You live in the . . . village?”
“I live in the fort,” the young woman said.
“You do? Isn’t it intimidating to live under all those stones?”
“It’s a dark and unfriendly place.” Words spoken in such a severe tone. She paused, lips parted, as if at a loss of word. Unsure why, Domino smiled at her. For a second she looked him in the eye, the shadow of a grin curling her mouth. Then her eyes turned to the rising flames—but still too shy to warm the room. “Few of us live there. The fort once belonged to the Kaibalars, according to the notes we found on our arrival. When my clan settled here a century ago, it was in the hands of a pack of very territorial dohors, provided these horrors remembered the place and what it once meant to their kind.”
Domino nodded, still a little distracted by Lienn’s unease.
Matta had mentioned the Kaibalars. From the little he’d listened to, being eager to go out and play with Gus in the village, Domino had remembered that they were once dohor riders, sometimes humans, who traveled on incredible mounts. They ranged from the majestic winged bull, to the mighty pony of D’Jersqoh, to the Verns of the even more distant deserts, so far beyond any horizon that these beasts lost between the saurian and the owl seemed to be nothing but a creation of the woman’s imagination. Matta had also mentioned dragons, huge legendary beasts able to fly without wings. It was said that there was one left in the Meishua now—even though everyone called it Calamity and not dragon. Then Gus had doubted the woman’s words, breaking his usual silence to let Matta know of his skepticism, and Domino had seen it as the perfect excuse to leave the Santig’Nell and go have fun.
“The majority of the fort is made up of stables for the animals,” added Lienn. “I’ll take you on a visit. Those stones can be intimidating, indeed.” She turned to Ero who hadn’t moved from his spot on the threshold. “You stay close to the door, Ueto Ero. Are you in a hurry to leave?”
Lienn didn’t express herself with any gentleness. By repeating Ero’s full name over and over again, she placed a distance between them that even the respect due to a clan leader didn’t require.
“A visit to this fort is a must,” Ero said. “To meet the council and its chief, perhaps.”
“That’s why I’m here,” said Lienn. She veered back to Domino. Again, she devoted most of her attention to him. Liyion to Liyion. Ero wouldn’t appreciate this habit lasting.
Putting an end to it, Domino nodded and wiped his charcoal-stained hands on his trousers. “Then let’s go visit this fort.”
Lienn hadn’t exaggerated the description of her home. The inside of the fort turned out to be as austere and cold as an ancient grave. Windows were scarce and probably required the use of a ladder to be open considering how high they’d been placed. Dohor’s-eye-level high. Numerous goatskin lanterns illuminated the dark corridors and the vestibule but failed to pierce the darkness clouding the ceilings. Even the colorful carpets woven with white patterns didn’t provide any sort of comfort.
Armored nichans stood guard at each tall door, sliding them open to let Lienn, Ero and Domino through, closing them behind them right after to stop the course of the cold air. Their ancestors came from the northern icy lands of Torbatt and Netnin. But as he stood between these gray stones, a whistling breath snaking into his collar, Domino wondered if his kind hadn’t forgotten what it was to be truly cold.
He suppressed a shiver, clinging to the idea that past nichans had once lived on frozen hills, and moved along.
Lienn led the two men into a room that reminded Domino of the interior of his village’s auditorium. Although the room was smaller, it was surrounded by several carved pillars, along which hung red banners embroidered with a nichan smile and a spiky circle of branches, or what he interpreted to be a sun. In the center of the room was a hollow circular table. Its core was reinforced with metal and a bright fire crackled in a bronze vat, sending gleams of amber and gold onto the face of a woman already present in the room.
“Welcome to you,” she said.
She got up as they arrived and circled the table. No mistake about it, she was Lienn’s mother. Their two faces were almost identical. Only years of experience marked a difference. The woman had the same dark brown slanting eyes, the same fleshy lips, the same broad forehead. Her short hair was dark blond and curled around her prominent cheekbones. Like Lienn, the woman exuded a charisma that irresistibly attracted Domino’s eye. She wasn’t a pure blood—Domino could feel it—but she would easily pass for the Unaan of the clan in Ero’s eyes.
Domino bowed respectfully to her, quickly imitated by Ero, and she gave them back their salute as her daughter stood by her side, taller than her mother.
The woman studied them one after the other, her fingers playing with a long necklace of pearly beads hanging from her neck.
“I am Riskan Vevdel,” the woman introduced herself. “I presume you’re the leader of the Ueto clan?”
“I am, indeed. Ueto Ero.”
“And this is the boy.”
Vevdel looked up at Domino. He smiled and bowed again to give himself a little composure.
“This is Domino,” Ero said as his nephew opened his mouth. Mother and daughter glanced at Ero and a chill passed through the shaky shadows undulating in the room. “I thought I was to meet the council of your c
lan,” said the man. “Is it only the two of you?”
“The council knows of Lienn’s intentions. They support them and didn’t wish to corner you like a court of law. Discussion, chief to chief, should be enough.”
Lienn’s intentions.
Ero frowned. “And what are your intentions, Unaan Vevdel?”
Vevdel smiled and turned her eyes to her daughter for a brief moment. “Forgive the confusion. It is a precaution we would take with anybody.”
Ero indeed seemed confused. “What precaution?”
“I’m not the Unaan of the Riskan Clan,” Vevdel confessed. “This responsibility is my daughter’s.”
Domino pursed his lips, forcing himself to keep quiet about what he’d already guessed. To his left, Ero lifted his chin and flashed his eyes at the two women.
“You have a strange way of welcoming your people and gaining their trust,” he said slowly. “What’s more, their respect.”
“We both know that the best way to weaken a clan is to kill its leader,” said Lienn.
“Did I threaten you?”
“No.”
“Right. I didn’t.”
“I don’t know you, Ueto Ero. I can’t swear to your intentions as you can’t swear to mine. I wanted first to find the safety of these walls and my protégés before opening myself to you. A mere protocol. Nothing personal.”
“A wise lie, even though I doubt I’d be a match or a danger to you.” Despite being the tallest of the four nichans gathered in the room, Ero wasn’t the most dangerous beast in Visha.
Lienn laid eyes on Domino, sizing him up, and then returned to Ero. “Right. Not you.”
Ero clenched his jaw tight. He had control of Domino. One command would be enough for the man to send his nephew at Lienn’s throat.
But the reason of Ero’s current expression was probably different. “I’m not the kind of man to bite the hand that feeds him.”
“Good. It would be unfortunate to try.”
The temperature dropped all the more. Neither Lienn nor Ero flinched as they stared at each other. Domino swallowed and cleared his throat. For once he wished he had enough authority to put an end to this encounter.
His uncle turned to Vevdel. “What about you? Are your daughter’s abilities hereditary? Should I prepare for more surprises?”
“I’m only here to support and advise Lienn,” the woman assured, her calm and friendliness intact. “Unlike her, I haven’t been blessed by the hands of the Gods. This doesn’t prevent me from being her mother and fulfilling my role.”
Vevdel invited the two men to sit at the table and offered refreshments, which Ero declined with a wave of his hand. He still seemed to have difficulty processing the truth, or rather the lie he’d believed for days.
“No need to linger,” Ero said. “My daughter is waiting in town and I don’t want to leave her alone for too long.”
“I can send someone to her. Calico, maybe,” said Vevdel, turning to Lienn.
“Just like you, I know how to take care of my child.”
It was hard to know whether these were the words of a worried father, or an excuse to cut this meeting short. Or even a way to question the Riskans’ reliability.
“All right,” said Vevdel. “We’re very busy, and the days are short.”
Her words made Domino smile. He’d only heard them from Ero’s mouth until today. “The days are short” was a saying of the elders, of those who’d known the world before the Corruption. Indeed, since the Great Evil, days were getting darker too quickly and seemed quite short.
“In this case,” Vevdel said as she sat, “let’s get to the point. An alliance.” She announced it outright as she let herself go in her armchair.
Near her, Lienn studied Domino’s face. The young woman added, “Two Liyion united to lead our men and protect them.”
“Slow down,” Ero cut, looking relaxed despite his right fist, which he kept firmly closed.
“Yes?”
“You don’t know me. I don’t know you.”
“Indeed.”
“See, that problem is mutual. So let’s take the time to know each other first, or at least to think for one minute. An agreement between two clans doesn’t come about on a whim.”
“I understand and agree with your statement,” Vevdel said, not moved that her daughter had been interrupted by her guest in her own home. She put a hand on Lienn’s shoulder. Vevdel’s gaze was filled with a pride and a tenderness that clenched Domino’s heart. “My dear Lienn revealed herself to us at the age of twelve. A late but providential first transformation. We’d lost hope and yet, here she was, the first Liyion in almost two centuries. We didn’t hesitate to pledge our oath to her. After ten years of work, she became the future of this clan and, as you can imagine, our most precious hunter. Many of us would have died without her. When my daughter goes hunting with her protégés, I can look after the rest of our clan without worrying about their lives . . . until recently.”
The woman was speaking on behalf of her daughter—the true authority in this place—yet Lienn didn’t mind. Quite the contrary. Sitting next to her mother, the young woman seemed more peaceful than ever, as if relieved of a burden and reassured to let someone she trusted carry it for her. At least that was the impression Domino had when he laid eyes on the two women.
“You’re from the north of the capital, right?” Vevdel asked.
“Not quite. The forests north of the Osska region,” Ero rectified.
“A brief respite. I heard the situation beyond the capital is still manageable—correct me if I’m mistaken.” Silence met her words. “Here as elsewhere, over the last five years, the number of sympathizers for the cause of these blighted Blessers has been in constant rise. They are everywhere, like weeds. Impossible to differentiate them from other humans. We can’t flush them out, only wait for them to show up at our door, or to kill our children.”
Domino bit his tongue and glanced at Ero sideways. The loss of a child by the partisans was a subject his uncle knew all too well.
However, the man remained unmoved and turned to Lienn. “Don’t you have anything to say, or must I still doubt your title?”
“Pardon?”
“I understand that you’re young, but you’re Unaan, not a child. Right? Can’t you speak for yourself?”
Lienn returned his gaze, unshakeable. “My mother is my right hand. She knows the situation perfectly well. She’s also more eloquent than I could ever be. Whatever our title or influence, we should never underestimate our flaws.”
Ero clenched his jaw and Domino resisted the urge to move away from him.
In the distance, the sound of the crashing waves challenged the crackling of the fire in the middle of the table to lure the tense silence away.
Vevdel resumed. “This immediate reaction to your nephew’s presence isn’t rushed or thoughtless. When your men are killed by weapons faster than they are, you start making plans. For years we’ve been taking in isolated nichans to expand our troops. The very idea that another pure blood would come along seemed delusional to us. That didn’t stop Lienn from foreseeing what to do should it happen. The way forward is what we present to you: an alliance between our two clans, sealed by the marriage of my daughter and your nephew.”
Domino blinked, and his heart skipped a beat. A reaction no one here would fail to notice. Swallowing the news, he turned his attention to Lienn, who stared at him peacefully. This announcement, this alliance, were they all her ideas? Was it for this reason that she’d asked him his age and whether his seasons had passed? She was older than he was—around twenty-two—but Domino had indeed gone through his seasons. In the eyes of nichans, he was an adult.
Old enough to marry, but not enough to be told before anyone else, apparently . . .
Torbs had united major human families in such fashion for many centuries. A marriage celebrated under the eyes of the Gods. Some nichans had even adopted the tradition after the Gods had given them access to their
human form a long time ago. The Gods had disappeared, but the tradition had survived.
A marriage. The concept went round and round in Domino’s mind, revealing itself to him from every angle. In principle, this union meant three things: a shared life in the same place for the Ueto Clan and the Riskan Clan; the creation of an heir born of both names; a vow of fidelity pronounced by the spouses to the skies to receive the Gods’ blessing.
Domino’s heart was overwhelmed. Still too excited about Lienn’s very existence, he hadn’t considered what the young woman intended to do with him.
What about Gus? Gus, whom Domino had kissed, whom he still desired as much on this day despite the distance and the months of separation.
“Liyion, no less. Their nature could be passed on to all their children,” Vevdel added as if to drive the point home.
Domino couldn’t hold back a disillusioned laugh. “I have a feeling that in a moment you will tell me the names of my future children.”
Nobody said anything, as if to give him time to digest the news.
Domino’s heart beat harder. He had to calm down before saying something stupid. This alliance was exactly what his clan would need in the near future. And Domino needed Lienn. It was a good thing. It was . . .
“Did Lienn explain to you—” he began in a voice that he managed to control.
“About your affliction?” Vevdel ended, incredibly perceptive. “Of course. My daughter insisted very strongly that she feels your aura, so I’m not giving up hope. Your training should start as soon as possible. It’s a long process, and it could prove to be quite arduous, given your current condition. But after a few years, you’ll finally be ready. Then the wedding will be celebrated, and your clan will join ours.”
The Nichan Smile Page 37