by CK Dawn
“I wasn’t lying.”
“We are all aware of how accomplished a liar you are. Please do not prolong this.”
“I’m not lying,” she said. “I don’t know patterning. I don’t want to know. You can keep your precious secrets.”
“It’s not my secrets I’m concerned about, it’s yours. You and Sheesha shot out of that well like an arrow from a bow,” he said. “We would have ended up like one of those urchins in the sea if you had not been able to get out.”
She knew about urchins. She had seen them with and without their spines at the scholar’s house. Then her eyes widened, as a realisation came upon her: the vast ball she and Sheesha had landed on. It had been like an urchin’s shell.
It was crazy. How could an urchin have grown that big? Did that mean that a nachak as big as a mountain could truly stalk the heart of Esternes? Everything she had thought were legends became revealed to her the more she travelled.
“What?” said Yenteel.
She realised she had become silent and withdrawn into her thoughts, even though he had been talking to her.
“I’m sorry, Yenteel. I should have told you but I barely even believed it myself even though I was there and saw it happen.” Because, when you are a slave, secrets are the one thing that you can keep and no one can steal them away.
“Tell me what?”
She shook her head. “First you must explain something. When you were in the cell you said you would spend the night with the soldier if he had wanted—rather than locking you up.”
“I did say that.”
“I believed you.”
“It was not a lie.”
“Then tell me that you did not lie with Lintha last night.”
He smiled. “But, Kantees, I did lie with the old Mother last night.”
“I don’t understand. I know that some men prefer the company of other men. I thought you were one of them, yet”—she threw her hands up—“last night?”
“Have you never observed beauty in another woman?”
“Yes, but that’s not the same. All women are more beautiful than I …” She hesitated. “Except Hogoma. And that’s not her fault.”
“Did I meet her?”
“You would remember.”
“But it’s not the same, Yenteel.”
“Not precisely, no,” he said. “But have you ever felt attraction to a man?”
An image of Daybian flashed into her mind. She pushed him away. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Do lies always come so readily to your lips?”
She sighed. “Yes, I have.”
“Then just imagine that you might also feel that for a woman as well as a man.”
“I don’t.”
His smile changed to a mischievous grin. “Are you lying to me again?” She frowned and he laughed out loud. “I am only teasing you.”
“So you would lie with a man or a woman?”
“I believe I have said so,” replied Yenteel.
“Do you want to lie with me?”
“What a fateful question,” he said. “Consider if I were to say no, then you would be affronted and upset. You would think there was some fault with you. Yet if I were to say aye, you would be threatened and disgusted. And try to push me away. There are some questions, Kantees, it is not wise to ask.”
“So you don’t want to?”
“And there you have it. I cannot even be equivocal because you instantly jump to the negative. This is a conversation, Kantees, that neither you nor I can win. Let us return to the real question, shall we?”
She was annoyed he had not answered her, regardless that she understood the logic of why. She took a deep breath and tried to put it aside.
“I was not lying when I said I did nothing. It was Sheesha that did it.”
Yenteel glanced across at the ziri. Kantees followed his gaze. Sheesha was leaning over a rock pool staring into it intently, his whole body still—not relaxed, but rigid as if he was holding himself ready. His head lashed down into the water, which erupted in a great splash. He came back up with something wriggling between his razor teeth. Then he sneezed and his prey disappeared back into the pool.
Sheesha shook himself to get rid of the water, which sprayed from his head and neck feathers. He looked around for his lost meal but couldn’t see it.
“Sheesha did the magic?” said Yenteel.
“People do magic, animals are magic,” said Kantees.
“And nobody has discovered this before?”
Kantees shrugged. “I don’t know. Perhaps it was forgotten.”
Yenteel nodded. “Things do get forgotten.”
She looked out, past Sheesha, at the sea and to the horizon. “It happened yesterday.” Was it truly only yesterday?
“Yes, I am curious about yesterday too. How was it you escaped?”
She hesitated. She had been in such a strange place in her mind when Trimiente had questioned her. “I …” She wanted to lie, wanted to say that she had leapt onto Sheesha’s back to fly to freedom. But if that had been the truth, she would never have discovered the magic.
“I tried to kill myself by throwing myself out of the tower.” The words came out all in a rush and tears ran down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry. They were threatening Sheesha, they would have hurt him. It was the only thing I could do to save him.”
Yenteel moved closer and put his arm around her shoulders. She tensed at his touch but then dropped her head onto his shoulders and sobbed.
“That was very brave,” he said after a while.
“It was stupid,” she said. “I deserted you all.”
“If you did it to save Sheesha, then that is brave. It may not have been the most intelligent thing to do but it was not cowardly.”
He let her cry more and then said, “However, you are here crying on my shoulder so somehow you managed not to die. That sounds like an interesting story.”
So she told him how Sheesha had come down after her, and prevented her from being dashed against the rocks and houses. And how he had sped away as his magic took hold. She told him about the giant urchin shell and the shocalin. Yenteel was impressed at that.
After she had described the return journey and he listened to how she had begun the rescue, at which point he knew the rest.
“But how is it Sheesha could fly fast in the rescue when you needed him to achieve a great speed before it happened on your escape and return?”
“The ley-circle,” she said. “It was the same as when you used the one in the forest for your pattern. I thought perhaps Sheesha could use it, and he did.”
“Using the forest ley-circle was your idea,” said Yenteel.
“But it worked.”
“Yes, and you suggested it to Sheesha, didn’t you? Just as you did me?”
“Don’t be foolish, ziri don’t understand language.”
“So how was it you explained your idea to him?”
Kantees opened her mouth to answer and then closed it again. It had not occurred to her, everything had happened so naturally.
“Do you think the others can do it?” said Yenteel.
“The other ziri? I don’t know but every tekrasa can fly and has a fire tube, doesn’t it?”
He nodded. “If it truly is part of their nature then they would all be capable.” He looked at Looesa and Shingul. “But perhaps they lose the ability with age.”
“Sheesha did not seem exhausted by it,” said Kantees. “But it was only for a very short time, I suppose.” And then she stood up as if she wanted to put an end to the conversation. “We should go. We have Jelamie and five girls to rescue.”
“Have you given any thought to that?”
“I have not,” she said. “But let us find them first.”
Thirty
Kantees sent Gally to find Welyn and inform him they were leaving. He returned with a group of villagers and the old Mother.
Welyn gave them a couple of sacks filled with dried and smoked fish wi
th some bread. Kantees was genuinely grateful though she was more concerned about feeding the ziri or at least giving them an opportunity to feed that did not lose them too much time.
Lintha gave Yenteel two pieces of rolled-up bark and a kiss on the cheek. “One is for mist,” she said, “and the other for wind, but only when you are near the ocean.”
Yenteel seemed genuinely grateful and touched. Kantees assumed they must be patternings. He must have been a good lover, she thought. Or Lintha hadn’t had it for a long time—it probably wasn’t good to indulge with the villagers themselves. She told herself off for being so harsh. Lintha did not deserve bad thoughts.
“Come on,” she said impatiently. “The sun is climbing.”
The zirichasa lay down so the three riders could climb on easily and then stood up on their hind legs. Kantees gave a short wave and gave Sheesha a little kick.
A flurry of wings brought them up to the level of the cliff. Kantees gave Sheesha a direction along the coast away from Hamalain. The villagers were lost to sight almost immediately. Kantees debated how they should proceed. Staying low along the coast did not seem best. They wanted to be able to approach the tekrak without being seen. So it was a choice between going out to sea, or going high.
She glanced up. It was fully overcast but the clouds were not low and it didn’t feel as if it would rain today.
If she were a raider, she would be more concerned at being followed or attacked by land. The sea would not be considered a threat. So if their assumptions were correct and the raiders were following the coast, it would be best to be over the sea. And high.
Sheesha curved out over the water, gaining height, and the other two followed in their perfect formation. Kantees looked behind. She missed seeing Jintan there. She missed having Daybian to complain about.
One thing at a time, Kantees.
She had vowed to save Jelamie, even if it was only a promise to herself. She had promised Welyn she would save his daughter if she could. Or have her revenge. He had not asked for that but she would not leave any of these men alive if it was within her power to bring about their deaths. She had no love for Lorima Hamalain, but they had killed him in cold blood. And these men had shot their own soldier to make sure he could not reveal their secrets.
That was the night everything changed for her.
If it had not happened she would still be in the eyrie at Jakalain with Sheesha, preparing him for the races while dodging Daybian’s advances. Something that she would not have been able to do forever. Eventually he would have lost his patience and forced her. But now, she would never be able to do it again. Ever. Was this better or worse? Or was it just different?
But something inside her said that he wouldn’t. It was what he had said himself. If she did not want it, but let him have his way, he did not want it. She would probably have given it to him out of pity. He was not bad for a Taymalin master. Even if he was arrogant. She smiled. It turned out that he had been good with his weapon after all. It had been a very different Daybian fighting in the cavern. A man that she might respect.
Perhaps when she rescued him she would apologise. And he would wonder what for, and she would tell him all the nasty thoughts she had had about him. And he would laugh, because it would be all about him. She changed her mind; apologising to him was a very bad idea after all.
Sheesha flattened out at a height that gave them a clear view of the coastline and a good distance inland. They could see perhaps seven or eight leagues in all directions. It was invigorating. Out to sea she could see a fishing vessel and wondered if it was the same one as yesterday. If it was, it might give her some idea of how far Sheesha had travelled in that short time. But it might not be.
She allowed her gaze to wander to the coastline ahead of them. It reminded her of a broken biscuit from which bites had been taken at intervals—large and small—and the crumbs scattered in trails out into the ocean. Further along the coast she could see much larger dark lumps curving out from the cliffs and ending in a much larger landmass.
The world was big, she thought, and there was so much to know. She had no idea what those islands were called. Up until a moment ago she had not even known they existed. Did people live on them? If they did, were they free Kadralin? Or Taymalin? Or perhaps even shocalin. Did shocalin live on land, or only at sea in great floating towns inside giant urchin shells? Of course, that assumed she was right about the creatures she saw being shocalin and that they were living inside the shell.
She shook her head. There were more questions in this world than there were answers. She could never know it all. Whether it was about the world around her or the world within. More questions than she knew how to answer.
The afternoon wore on and she ran out of thoughts. She did not have to keep her eyes on the coast the whole time. It seemed to move so slowly she could just glance at it now and then. They passed a dozen tiny fishing villages crowding the cliffs as the mountains closed in tighter to the sea. The cliffs themselves became taller.
They needed to stop. The ziri needed to eat. She scanned the coast carefully. Out of the high hills rushed a huge waterfall. The river had created a lake at the top of the cliff but its water leaked down through the rock itself and sprayed out into the sea.
Buildings huddled on the heights, and there were small boats on the lake instead of the ocean. Herds of goats and other animals were dotted about chewing on the greenery. She contemplated moving on to a place where they would not be observed but on the day was growing late and after their recent experience she thought perhaps they might not be in danger.
At a touch from her knee, Sheesha curved inland and lost height.
She wondered whether she should have consulted with Yenteel but it was almost impossible to have a conversation when flying, and the zirichasa seemed disinclined to fly out of their formation. She looked over her shoulder at Yenteel and pointed at the lake. He smiled, so she guessed he thought it was a reasonable decision.
The ziri were flying directly at the houses at considerable speed when Kantees realised she might have made a mistake. They had been spotted by somebody and now people were running back and forth among the buildings. Moments later one man with a bow appeared, then another behind him.
Kantees leaned hard to the right and Sheesha veered off. But Kisharuk curse her if she was going to let them be forced away by ignorant villagers whose first response was to attack. She kept Sheesha turning until he went into a landing spiral.
They touched down near the drop-off between the cliff and the lake. The ground trembled beneath her feet when she jumped down, at which the ziri did not seem very happy. A small stream of water ran through what looked like an old riverbed, overgrown with plants. The lake itself had a maelstrom at this end where water fed down into the tunnel below and out from the cliff. The vibration in the ground must be the river forcing its way through the rock.
At the far end of the lake, where the water tumbled from the mountains, a mist filled the air. It was a beautiful place, she thought, except for the men with weapons hurrying in their direction.
“I’ll do the talking,” said Yenteel.
“Just as you like,” she said. “But, to be clear, I do not want to be killed. So don’t aggravate them. I came down here because this looked like a good place to feed the ziri.”
Yenteel did not acknowledge her but walked towards the men with his hands held out to show he was not armed. They did not look friendly.
“Get back on Looesa, Gally,” she said. “I am not sure these people will be friends.”
“Sheesha wants to eat their goats,” he said.
She stared at him. With everything that had been happening she wondered whether he had learnt how to read their minds. Not that that seemed likely. It wasn’t hard to know what a zirichak wanted: a place to sleep, a chance to fly fast, and food. They were often fed goats, so to their thinking the ones around here were a likely meal.
Her choice of landing place was looking worse by
the minute.
She looked across at Yenteel. She couldn’t hear what they were saying but the men had lowered their weapons and were talking. At least that meant they weren’t going to get shot. Not yet, anyway.
She turned and walked towards the cliff. The grass went right to the edge but she wasn’t intending to go too close. It might be treacherous. Then Sheesha’s wing came down in front of her and his head curved round as he tried to look at her with both eyes. She smiled at him.
“I wasn’t going to jump, Sheesha,” she said. “Not this time.”
He made a grumbling noise in the back of his very long and deep throat. She leaned against his wing and looked out to sea. There were islands down there. Not big ones, but even the smallest was covered with trees and undergrowth.
“I bet there’s food you can eat on those islands, Sheesha.” She pointed. “Why don’t you have a look? These villagers are too scared of you eating theirs.”
And Sheesha looked where she was pointing. He snorted and launched himself off the cliff in a long glide, followed by Shingul. She turned to see why Looesa hadn’t gone too but Gally was on his back.
“You can get down, Gally. Looesa can go with Sheesha to get some food.”
As Gally slid from the ziri’s back, Looesa made a very ungainly run at the cliff edge and launched himself off. For all they were awkward on land, the zirichasa were beautiful as they swooped across the intervening water and circled the first of the islands.
“Kantees!”
She tore her eyes from the ziri and saw Yenteel beckoning to her. She walked over, not in a hurry, as she had no real interest in what these people had to say.
“This is Bolda,” he said indicating the middle-aged man with the bow that stood in front of the others. The men were of various ages, young and old. All looked stern—apart from the youngest who was eyeing her the way young men often did, with his eyes directed at her chest instead of her face. She was used to it.
“Bolda wants to know what you did with the zirichasa.”
“I sent them to the islands down there to feed,” she said to Yenteel, and then addressed Bolda directly. “I guessed you were concerned for your goats.”