What did that mean? I had failed—I would fail—I am failing! I sank into the steaming mud. The blanket sank into the mire with me. I was a mass of yellowish, stinking filth, small and terrified and unready. Nihil!
I am a restless creature who flouts the prudent course.
I don’t know why the line from Scripture hit me. Amaniel was always reciting this one at me, telling me it described me from hair curls to toenails. The words poured out on their own, while my brain scrambled for something familiar and safe, but found only her odd scolding.
Who seeks shadows instead of light, then would reverse myself.
Nihil chuckled, his voice ominous and high.
This I want, and then that, to take risks and then retreat, to settle down and still wander, to weave and then rend.
I don’t know why I kept at it, murmuring a bit of nonsense, perhaps the only verse I could ever recall. But he was here, or somewhere, and I grasped at something I knew he’d know.
Do not begrudge me this urge or say that I am fickle. You are made this way yourself, after me.
The invisible Nihil mocked me, his voice derisive, jeering:
“How clever to throw my verse back at me. You learned a thing or two this time, at least. But you are yet a useless, arid scrap of space dust, hurtling down uninvited, your comet tail comprised of vaporous promises and the blood of decent men. Why should I not begrudge you?”
I stopped my chanting. That was as much as I could remember, anyway.
But comet tail? Space dust? He thought I was the meteorite, and that the meteorite was a person of some sort, perhaps in the same way the Gek thought of it as wise and self-aware. I reflexively said my own name; I’d been saying it all too often lately, as a way of insisting that I wasn’t some demon or space dust or anyone but Hadara of Rimonil.
“I don’t care whose form you’ve taken,” Nihil said, his voice sounding unimpressed. “You’re going to leave there or I’m going to turn that island upside-down while you stand in the middle of it. That’s more innocent blood on your hands, if you’re even keeping track.”
I glanced over at Valeo, who knelt on one knee by the side of the prayer well. I hadn’t noticed him coming over here. Was he praying or begging or humbling himself to his god? I was shocked to realize he might be worshipping Nihil. I had to remember, yet again, how little I knew him.
I began to stammer, but Valeo caught my gaze and held a finger to his lips.
“Worthy Master, it is I, First Guardsman Valeo Uterlune, your servant and guard to your person. Do you hear me?”
“I do, I do.” The voice sounded pleased. “A voice of sanity, calling from the mist. You will of course explain.”
So Nihil couldn’t see either of us, and we couldn’t see him. I gulped air; and even the sulfur stink brought relief.
“The human female Hadara of Rimonil is here at the Gek’s bidding, and I am here to see she does you no harm, Benevolent Master,” Valeo said. His gaze held mine in a lock, but his head shook, ever so slightly, as though to say I shouldn’t believe his words, no matter how convincing they sounded.
I wanted to believe him. I wanted an ally and friend. I wanted his friendship. I nodded back. It was all I could do.
“Benevolent Master,” Valeo continued. “Tell me your bidding.”
“Is she possessed? What did the Azwan of Uncertainty say?”
“She is not possessed, so far as he is aware.”
“Then get her away from this site and kill her.”
Before I could react, Valeo had taken over, his voice more commanding than pleading. “And would not her eldritch powers then become my own, and would that not displease you, Greatest of the Great?”
“She has eldritch powers?”
Nihil’s surprise caught both Valeo and myself off guard. How did he think I’d found my way into the unseen heart of the volcano? By digging through the mud? I knew my mouth was open in surprise, but Valeo gave me a cool look, as if reassessing the situation. He kept his voice even.
“You were not apprised of this, Most Worthy Master?”
Silence. The air wafted past, and I noticed the Gek had stopped their chatter. Could they also hear our exchange?
Did it matter?
I was on my knees in mud. Valeo was about to tell Nihil about what powers he supposed I had. Valeo was judging what to say and how to say it, parsing his words so he could remain as neutral-seeming as possible, not giving anything away to Nihil—or to me? What chance was I taking here?
None.
And that last realization shook me out of my stupor.
Valeo couldn’t pick my side. I wouldn’t let him. I was in this on my own, and he was getting back alive, and I was sealing this stinkhole up before anyone said another word. Besides, it wouldn’t take long for Nihil to figure out it was one of the Azwans who hadn’t filled him in on my so-called eldritch powers, and I didn’t think Port Sapphire wanted to be in the middle of that fight. And I suspected it would be big.
Quick. Something. Anything. I struggled to my feet. In my head, I yanked hard at the forces milling and churning deep beneath me, drawing mud and rocks and steamy heat to the surface as densely as I could imagine. I turned the fissures into gashes and then turned those into open wounds, letting all the pent-up prayers loose into the world. Lightning coursed through me, like an alarm horn, blaring its warning. I lit up like a hundred bonfires, building to a thousand stars. I began moving things around—rocks, mud, sticks, entire trees, parts of the hillside itself—making room for all that stored magic to dissipate into the air with every new and sudden explosion of steam.
This place had to be utterly, completely emptied of its contents and then permanently sealed, and Valeo and I had to leave. The top of the volcano began spewing steam as well, and the ghostly prayers rose from a din to a roar, growing in both volume and intensity, as if thousands and then tens of thousands of people shouted and wept at once.
“Kill her.” Nihil’s voice broadcast clear and distinct across the din. “Kill her now.”
The force of the steaming, streaming voices had already blasted Valeo off his feet, though, and it had taken me this long to notice. I hesitated, just long enough for the roar to subside, long enough to peer through the yellowish gray fog to see Valeo had leapt to his feet again, unharmed, and long enough to make out the Gek scrambling in every direction as the ground gave way in ripples and undulating waves. The Gek were agile; they would be safe. But Valeo needed solid ground, something difficult to find.
I was sure Valeo wouldn’t kill me, but I wasn’t sure I could avoid killing Valeo.
“Stand behind me,” I shouted. “It’s the only way.”
“Kill her!”
Damn Nihil. He’d heard me call to Valeo. He couldn’t know Valeo had switched sides.
I let up my efforts, taking deep lungfulls of dirty air, coughing and wheezing out the dust and reek and rot of the vents I’d widened. Valeo wobbled and wove over the unsteady ground until he too was ankle deep in the hot mire with me. He grabbed me around the waist, steadying us both before either of lost our footing again.
“I hear and I obey, Master,” Valeo shouted. “She is strong and hard to fight!”
Valeo did nothing but nod down at me.
“She is weakening,” Nihil said. “Now is your chance.”
I wasn’t weakening, just resting. Valeo was safe. The Gek had scrambled to somewhere far below me, behind a covering of dense scrub and forest. I struggled to catch my breath and keep going.
I gave the magic beneath me one last tug with every last copperweight of strength I possessed. The ground turned liquid in every spot but ours, and the world went flying upward. Rocks, mud, steam, pebbles—it all sprayed skyward in a giant, backward rainstorm of debris that scattered far and wide. In the distance, the Gek shouted and called to each other, scrambling still further from my spot.
The last of the prayers and chants, the bottled-up devotion and longing and desperate need, belched forth in
a final burst of white noise. I grabbed at some small portion of it and held it deep in my chest. I needed to make that seal, and knew no other way than to use the very magic I’d just let loose, the stuff I’d just sworn I’d never use.
Rocks clattered against my ankles, and even twigs and trees piled up, until debris clogged every fissure and the ground had moved back together again. Valeo and I were nearly knee-deep in debris. But it was working. Nihil’s voice died away with the last phantasms and chants, whispering his final warning:
“Ah! You always make the same mistake. And you will always fail.”
I shuddered and stood amid the mounds I had made. Similar mounds covered the other pools, which leaked steam but nothing else, nothing unnatural. Valeo stood and stared through slitted eyes, and I didn’t want to imagine what he must be thinking. Let him wonder about what I’d done.
“He’s gone,” I said.
“I know.” His voice was low and soft. “I suppose you had to do it your way.”
The Gek returned, slowly at first, tiptoeing through narrow openings and picking their way with care. It took long moments for them to reach my spot, skittering around the reformed landscape, sniffing with their tongues, camouflaging against the sulfurous rocks. Some waved sticky fingers at me and were murmuring prayers to me. I cringed.
“Stop, all of you, stop,” I said and signaled at once. “This is absurd. I’m human. Mortal.”
The chieftain spoke up from beside Valeo. “You are the star, and you can no longer deny that. Even Nothing Man believes it to be so.”
“We don’t know what Nihil believes. I do know that I’ve rid this island of magic and it’s time to go home. That is what I know.”
It was true, about the magic being gone. I stepped out of the prayer well and inhaled. All I sensed was sulphur and steam. I stretched my arms to the sky, my feet rooted to the soil, and tried to sense something that didn’t feel right, deep beneath the surface. Nothing.
The Gek began clamoring, bobbing and milling about and flushing all kinds of soft, happy hues. Many danced in place out of excitement, and their happy croaking and whistling spoke of feeling the absence of the magic. I felt their relief, too, though I was more wary about it. They obviously didn’t know I’d used magic to stop magic. That bit of irony was going to claw at me until I solved the riddle, if I ever could.
Again, a sense of rightness poured over me. The air was fresh, the trees’ roots in the forest beyond reached deeply down into the purity of the water table, the volcano before me gently slept, snoring out vapors. Life sang all around me, and none of it seemed unbalanced or off-center, as if some unseen force had tampered with it.
That feeling was gone, replaced by a sensation of openness, like the cool, fresh weather after a storm has passed. My surroundings seemed more crisp, clean, and bright. Tension eased out of my shoulders. I dusted off some of the caked mud, and let myself breathe in a little relief.
I still didn’t know if this had been the only well of prayers or just one of many. I suspected it must’ve been important if Nihil had noticed and tried to make himself heard here. I wasn’t sure how much magic it took to broadcast your voice halfway across the world. A lot? A little?
I let myself imagine that this well of prayers was the only one, since it’s what I so desperately wanted to believe. There’d be no more swamp fires. Perhaps the two Azwans were back in Port Sapphire, trying desperately to conjure spells, not understanding why their gold totems no longer worked. I smiled. It struck me as funny, them conjuring and nothing coming. Then I noticed the Gek once again bowing to me and I frowned.
“No religion. No temples or priests or guards, Valeo, remember?”
He glanced at the Gek. “Or worshippers.”
“Especially not those.”
Valeo stepped away from the sealed-up pool, and we both motioned to the Gek to rise to their feet, as many were bowing and kneeling. They rose only hesitantly, casting their darting, furtive glances at one another, at their chieftain, and back at me. I signaled to them all, not just the chieftain. I wasn’t going to play into anyone’s notion of religious hierarchy.
“I am just like you. I am not a star and I didn’t fall to Kuldor. I am not here to take the place of the one you call Nothing Man.”
I went on. I pleaded with them for peace, to leave off attacking the human city they had come to hate in recent six-days and to set aside their loathing of us drabskinned folk to learn to live side-by-side again. I had wanted these things all along, but now I sensed I had the authority to ask for them. They listened and flushed scores of different shades. Their emotions ranged all over, from some obvious fear to dismay or anger or hope—it strained my knowledge of them to figure it all out.
Mostly, I was confused and afraid. Confused, as I’d used magic and I knew flat out I’d rationalized it away. Afraid, because I really had no idea what I’d done, if it would hold, and what might be happening in Port Sapphire.
So I sat down again on the boulder, Valeo on one side, the chieftain on the other, as Gek wandered around us. Someone brought gourds of fresh water, others carried platters of food. I chewed slowly, trying not to hear the chieftain’s many questions, my eyesight blurred. I needed desperately to be alone and think through what happened and how and, most importantly, why.
Earlier, the weight of so many people and their expectations and questions and needs had felt tangible to me, like being scraped raw with rocks. I had met and exceeded them, I think, and they owed me some quiet time alone. Perhaps this was what being a leader really meant: not the privileges that Babba basked in, or the stature to make demands, but the sense that the burdens of the world had to be set down every once in a while, that the world could wait until my thoughts caught up to my actions.
I signaled to the chieftain, saying I needed to rest. Maybe that was partly true, though I wasn’t tired. A few clicks and croaks later, we were on our way back down to the waterfall and its array of huts. Along the way, I took the time to describe to the Gek around me what I’d done and why, being careful to point out in my hand signs that I had indeed felt the need to use magic, after a fashion. I knew I wielded it crudely and that I obviously lacked Nihil’s finesse, but I hated myself for having used it at all. I told them what Nihil had said, that it was a mistake and I would fail. That nagged at me, and I watched the chieftain closely for his reaction.
The chieftain whistled and croaked his agreement. “Nothing Man is right. He has you play his game and by his rules. These are his tools, the tools of the unnatural making. Your task is to unmake his evil messes, not to try to make them better or after your own fashion. But you are young as your people measure lives, yes?”
“I’ve only just come of age, Wise One.”
“Yet you have already taken a mate. He is stout as a tree trunk, to be sure. We do remember a short span of days ago, however, when he killed us with great skill and no shame. The one you call Eater of Insects has little good to say of him.”
“Is Bugsy here?” I was delighted at the mention of her name.
“She is with the rest of lizardfolk in a safe place. She has much she wants to teach us about your kind.”
“Please tell her how much I love her and wish her well.” I could only imagine the odd things Bugsy had observed from Rishi alone.
“Yes, this I will do. Now you must look to your rest and to your mate. I am not sure I trust him, but you do, and that’s what matters. Otherwise, his body would be back in the drabskin nest cluster with all the others.”
Valeo grunted as I softly translated. “Tell Spike I’ll skin his scaly hide if he tries. Bare-handed.”
“I will not.”
Valeo wheeled on me. “Then tell him I don’t answer to some toad-faced, slithering worm who barely comes up to my ass. And that nest cluster he talks about is full of the bodies of better men than him. Bodies he put there.”
“Valeo—”
“So that he could drag you here. And now you’re done and I’m taking you
back.”
We walked in silence after that, Valeo glowering, me wilting from being around too many people at once. When we reached the waterfall, I paused to wash the mud off me. It was a clumsy effort, as I struggled to keep some semblance of modesty with the sodden blanket wrapped around me, dirtying me again each time I scrubbed clean. Finally, Valeo retrieved one from a pile by a hut and he turned away while I bathed my legs and splashed my face. Except for worrying about him, I was at peace. I had won. I had a right to be pleased about that.
The chieftain watched me watching Valeo’s back. “You are young, and we overestimated some things about you. You have made some mistakes, and these you must undo first, before you can fulfill your destiny.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know what this Undoer is, and I’m not sure I wish to be it. And I believe my job is done, no?”
“The poison you said you felt beneath the ground. Do you think it was only here?”
I turned to him. “I’m not sure, but I take it you do.”
He nodded. “It is why lizardfolk came to this island at the Center of the World. This world is our Great Nest that is home to us all, even to your kind. We can sense in ways that drabskins cannot how the Nothing Man poisons it from deep within. This island was the last to be so touched, and therefore the most important to us. We had failed to guard it well enough.”
I met his unblinking gaze with solemnity and chose my signaled words. “You envision that I will do for the Great Nest what I did here?”
“Yes, but you must avoid using the Nothing Man’s tools.”
“Is this the only such place that stored the Nothing Man’s poison?” I asked. I had to know if this had been the only prayer well or not.
“His poison is vast and deep, beyond our understanding, but perhaps not beyond yours.”
Well, that didn’t help much.
I bowed, just as I did with Babba when I wanted to show deference and maybe hide my scowl. The chieftain seemed to see it as a sign of respect and bowed his own head in reply. I made my excuses and went into the hut where’d I’d slept the night before. His was just one piece of advice too many in recent six-days, and all the things I’d learned and done and heard were clamoring in my head at once.
The Well of Prayers Page 22