Betrayal

by Lara Morgan

  She looked at Tallis. ‘I’m done,’ she said, and he smiled.

  ‘All right, that’s enough for today I suppose, but tomorrow we’re going to swim out to that rock.’ He pointed to the outcrop of red stone that rose just above the water in the middle of the bay.

  ‘I hate you,’ she said.

  ‘I know. Come on.’ He let go of her arm and nudged her, making her walk back to the beach on her own.

  Shaan sighed and shuffled through the water, her leg aching as she pushed through it. A small wave formed and with a sly look at her brother, she fell forward, letting the water carry her to the shore.

  ‘Cheat!’ Tallis called.

  ‘Dung face,’ she called back. Her belly nudged the beach and she lay in the wash, waiting for him to catch up. Sandy water pushed up to her waist and sucked away again, leaving grains embedded in her short trousers. She closed her eyes then almost immediately opened them again as relaxation threatened to pull her into sleep. No, sleep was a bad idea. She rolled onto her back and stared up at the sky. The season of rain made it a dull mass of low cloud, the air dense with moisture. She blinked water from her eyes and tried not to think of the dreams that had started again; the dark, the pain of the Stone searing her and Azoth, his fingers on her skin feeling so real. Too real. She rubbed her arms.

  ‘You cold?’ Tallis had come out of the water and stood over her, droplets of water spattering her face.

  ‘No.’ She waved him away. ‘Stop dripping.’

  ‘You’re already wet.’ He shook his head, spraying more water, the silver cuffs on the ends of his braids clicking together. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  He frowned. ‘Liar.’

  ‘I’m just tired.’ She closed her eyes so she didn’t have to meet his gaze.

  ‘Dreams of Azoth again?’ he said.

  She hadn’t told him everything; how real they had become, how it felt as if Azoth was lying next to her in her bed. How did you share that with your brother? She sighed. ‘You don’t need to worry, it’s just nightmares. I’m not going to run off to find him.’

  ‘I didn’t think you were.’

  His tone was calm, but Shaan sensed the concern behind it.

  He held a hand out to her. ‘Come on, get up. You’ll be covered in sand.’

  ‘Don’t care.’ She closed her eyes.

  ‘Fine, stay there.’ He moved away and she heard him rustling around in the small pack they’d left on some rocks. ‘Ow!’

  Opening her eyes, Shaan rolled over to see Tallis crouched on a rock, squeezing his thumb between his fingers.

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘Crab in the pack,’ he said, grimacing.

  ‘What?’ She watched him, smiling. ‘Didn’t you check before you put your hand in?’

  He gave her a look that told her what she could do with her comment.

  Groaning, she pushed herself up until she was sitting. ‘How deep is it?’

  He came to kneel beside her, displaying a deep gash across the pad of his right thumb.

  Shaan stared at the bright blood and her amusement faded as pressure began to form behind her breast and a subtle tingling sensation flowed down her left arm.

  ‘What is it?’ Tallis said. ‘Is it that feeling again?’

  ‘Yes.’ She was unable to look away from the wound. Something, some force inside was seeking release, pushing at her. She knew what it wanted. Ever since Azoth had made her bring the Birthstone out from that dark place, ever since it had touched her and almost killed her, she’d been able to feel a part of it inside her. It had paralysed her with the power of its rebirth but it had also left something behind. She felt connected to it, as if a piece of it had been left under her skin.

  Tallis put his hand on her shoulder. ‘I can feel it in you. It’s a brightness, but there’s also a darkness to it, an edge.’

  ‘I feel it.’ Shaan stared at the wound on his thumb and clenched her hand into a fist.

  ‘It’s from the Stone, isn’t it?’ he said. When she didn’t answer he leaned closer.

  ‘You can’t ignore it, Shaan. We need to know what it means.’

  ‘I’m not ignoring it.’

  ‘Then try,’ he said, ‘try to use it now, on me. It’s the best way. If something goes wrong …’

  She knew what he was getting at. He thought he was powerful enough to stop whatever was in her, to wall up any darkness that might escape. His eyes were so calm, fearless. She felt the power in him, growing stronger day by day as if in rescuing her, in commanding the serpents, he had unlocked the cage around his strength. But the risk.

  ‘It’s too dangerous. I don’t want this, Tallis.’

  ‘You don’t have a choice. What if this … ability escapes your control? You can’t wait until it controls you. If I had known what I was capable of in the desert —’ He stopped, pain crossing his face. ‘You have to try to see what you can do, Shaan.’

  The heaviness in her chest pushed for release like a captive serpent.

  ‘All right,’ she said. ‘But —’

  ‘Stop anytime,’ he finished, and held out his hand to her. Bright blood beaded on his skin.

  She slowly touched the fingertip of her left hand to his wound. The blood was warm and as she made contact an intense flash of knowledge surged into her mind: how the blood pumped from his heart, the intricate network of veins, the muscles, the organs, the skin and how they all fit together to form the whole. She blinked; she could see how to repair it. She heard the pounding of her brother’s heart loud in her head, the breath in his lungs, felt him closer than ever before. It was overwhelming and with a gasp, she pulled back.

  ‘No.’ She clasped her hands together against herself.

  Tallis sat very still, and they were both silent as she caught her breath.

  ‘You felt it, didn’t you?’ he said after a moment. ‘You knew how to heal the cut.’

  ‘Yes … I think so. I don’t know, but it was too much, I could —’ She stopped, not wanting to voice it.

  ‘You knew that you could also stop my heart if you wanted to,’ Tallis finished, and she nodded.

  ‘I think so, maybe. Probably.’ The pressure was still there, but had lessened as if just touching the wound had pacified it somewhat. Shaan got up and walked to the waterline, looking out at the massed clouds on the horizon. Tallis followed, wading in to wash the sand from his legs.

  ‘Before I used to come here just to catch fish,’ she said. ‘That was all I did — catch fish, help serve at the inn and work in the yards. Now …’ She took a long breath. ‘I used to want something more than that. I wanted to ride the serpents, be different. I got that wish, didn’t I?’

  ‘I think we were both already different,’ Tallis said. ‘We just weren’t aware of it.’

  ‘Until I brought Azoth back.’ Shaan stared at the waves.

  ‘It wasn’t your fault.’

  ‘I went with him. I brought the Stone back.’

  ‘You didn’t have a choice. He was stronger.’

  ‘He still is — especially now.’

  ‘Maybe,’ Tallis said.

  Shaan pushed at the sand with her foot. ‘I don’t know how we are going to fight him.’

  ‘Maybe Rorc will be able to form an army big enough.’

  ‘To defeat the Stone?’ Shaan shook her head. ‘Its power is … It opened a gap in the air, Tallis, like a door to nothing.’

  A frown creased his brow. ‘I know, but we have to try.’

  Shaan thought about what the Wild Lands woman, Alterin, had told her. ‘Perhaps the Four Lost Gods will come,’ she said.

  ‘Do you think they’re real?’

  ‘I don’t know. They’re a legend, a myth.’ She shrugged. ‘But so was Azoth.’ She smiled briefly. ‘Morfessa got excited when I told him what Alterin said — that she had dreamed they were back. I don’t feel them though. Do you …?’ She looked at him but he shook his head.

  Her leg was aching and she shifted
her weight. ‘Another four gods; would that be a good thing, even if they stopped him?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  No, neither of them did. But thinking too much of gods brought Azoth to mind, so Shaan said, ‘How is your training with the Seducers?’

  ‘Ah.’ Tallis came out of the water and picked up a small stone, bouncing it up and down in his hand. ‘They don’t like me.’

  ‘Because you’re better than them?’

  ‘Only in some things,’ he said, skipping the stone across the water, ‘and because of who I am.’

  ‘You make them nervous.’

  ‘It seems so.’

  ‘Still it must be better than being unable to do much.’ Since feeling well enough to get out of bed Shaan had spent most of her days in the temple gardens or helping the Sisters catalogue the myriad old history scrolls they seemed to guard. It was starting to get on her nerves, but she was still too weak to find work outside the Temple. Tallis had suggested she share the serpent’s crell he’d taken over at the Dome, but she would have to rely on him for everything and she hated the thought of being so dependent.

  ‘I want work that could earn me some coin,’ she said. ‘I’m tired of being so useless. Even some of the Sisters treat me as if —’

  ‘As if they’re waiting for you to do something?’ Tallis said.

  Shaan nodded. ‘I miss my room at the inn. At least you have some purpose, working with the Seducers and Rorc. I feel as if I’m waiting to find out what mine is.’

  ‘I don’t think Rorc really knows what to do with me,’ Tallis said. ‘I think I’m just working with the Seducers so they can try to figure out what I am. Come on.’ He turned back to the beach. ‘Let’s go. I’m hungry and I’m supposed to be training again later.’

  Collecting their things they began the slow walk back up the cliff to the yards.

  Chapter 2

  Shaan left Tallis at the yards and went back to the waiting covered cart that had brought her from the temple. It was one of four kept by the Sisters and they didn’t seem to mind her taking it every morning — at least, no one had stopped her yet.

  She tied the curtains back to let in more air as the driver urged the muthu through the crowded streets of the merchants’ quarter. Shops were opening and occasionally she drew a glance or a whispered comment, a sidelong look. She pushed her wet hair back and ignored them, glad she wasn’t in the seafarers’ quarter; in the markets there she’d seen a roughly sketched painting of herself and Tallis fighting a figure she had assumed was Azoth.

  After Tallis had rescued her, rumours about the serpents’ desertion and the Fallen’s return had only increased, and strange stories had begun to circulate about Tallis and Shaan, more myth than truth, but enough to make some uneasy and others treat her as if she were, well, she wasn’t sure what. A hero? If they knew the truth she doubted there would be any paintings — more likely knives being thrown and nooses strung up. She’d thought her life had been hard before, but she hadn’t realised how much freedom she’d really had. Glancing out of the cart she saw a poorly dressed man who put a hand on his heart and threw a dried red flower at her feet as she passed.

  ‘Rescue us,’ he called.

  Rescue me, Shaan thought, and pulled the curtains down hard, releasing dust into the air as the cart lurched around the corner toward the temple.

  When she arrived she went straight to her room to change and then headed to the kitchens for some food. The end of the sleeping wing opened onto a large courtyard at the back of the complex and Shaan could see through the row of open windows opposite that many of the Sisters were already at work in the temple’s library. She tried to ignore the aching in her leg as she walked behind a line of potted trees so no one could see her and make her catalogue more of their damned scrolls. There was no one but a young serving girl in the dining hall. Shaan asked her for a bowl of fruit porridge and was halfway through eating it when Sister Lyria came in.

  ‘Shaan.’ Her voice echoed through the high-ceilinged chamber as she crossed to her. ‘I’m glad I’ve found you, I need assistance in the healing rooms this morning.’ She stopped at the end of Shaan’s bench, looking expectant. ‘How are your arm and leg? You seem to be doing much better with the swimming.’

  ‘Yes, much better.’ Shaan watched her warily.

  ‘Good, that’s good.’ Lyria’s gaze was not quite friendly.

  ‘I’m not much good with helping sick people, Sister, and I can’t help you anyway; I’ve been summoned to see the Guardian,’ Shaan said.

  ‘Yes, I know, but that’s not until later in the morning, is it, and I am short-handed. It’s not difficult work.’ The Sister raised an eyebrow. ‘Unless you would prefer to stack scrolls in the library?’

  Shaan put down her spoon with deliberate slowness. ‘No, I wouldn’t,’ she said. She could put up with a lot if it got her out of sorting any more of those dusty scrolls.

  ‘Good, come along then.’ Sister Lyria gave her a cool smile. ‘I’ll make sure you aren’t late for the Guardian.’

  Shaan suppressed a sigh and got slowly to her feet. The healing rooms were closer to the front of the temple, beyond the sleeping quarters, and she trailed Lyria along the cool hallways, passing room after room of sleeping patients. The sensation started to build again within her hand as they travelled further in among the sick. She began to have second thoughts about coming; maybe this need to heal would be hard to control here.

  Sister Lyria seemed to sense her reluctance. ‘We have many patients who need help here.’ She cast her a look of disapproval. ‘It will help take your mind off your own injuries if you tend to others.’

  ‘If you say so,’ Shaan said, and earned a glare as they entered a room several doors from the entrance.

  The young man in the bed was a sanctuary seeker, like most of the others. He had come from a village far to the northeast at the edge of grasslands. His family was dead, killed when the village was attacked by Scanorians, and like many of the others he had been stricken with a disease that had wasted his limbs and made breathing difficult. His fever was high and Sister Lyria whispered that she was unsure if he would last the day.

  ‘Here.’ She handed Shaan a damp cloth and a bowl filled with water infused with some herbal concoction. ‘Cool his head; do what you can for him. I have others who we might be able to save.’

  She left Shaan alone, the rustle of her long skirt fading as she entered another section. Shaan dipped the cloth in the water and draped the material over the man’s brow. She could feel the heat coming off his skin through the thick cloth, and his breathing was laboured and uneven. He was not much older than she was, with pale skin and reddish brown hair that was so fine his scalp showed through its short strands. His cheeks were hollow, his skin patched with red, and the stale yeasty smell of the unwashed and ill hovered about him. He was dying, there was no doubt. Shaan lifted the now hot cloth and swished it again through the cool water, looking at the patient’s pale, unconscious face.

  Was Tallis right? Would it be better to know than to wait? She could do him no more harm than he already suffered. And when she’d touched Tallis’s wound she’d felt no compulsion to harm, only to heal. Could this, after all, be something good?

  Wiping the water off her hands, she slowly placed her bare left hand against the young man’s forehead. Immediately a surging sensation formed behind her breastbone, gathered and ran from her chest to her arm in a fiery line of energy. The man’s head arched up against her hand as if drawn to it and, shocked, she snatched her fingers back. She had seen the disease, felt her energy penetrate it. For a moment she stood, hands clasped, watching. Was his breathing less laboured?

  She considered the restless energy, hovering behind her breast as if it were watching the man, reaching for him. The Sisters had said he would most likely die.

  She went to the door and checked to see if there was anyone coming, then closed it. Her heart beat a frightened tattoo and her hands were unsteady as she stood o
ver the young man, but she took a long, deep breath and carefully, slowly, lowered her left hand again onto the young man’s forehead.

  Her fingers began to tingle strongly before they touched his skin, then on contact the strange pressure in her chest increased, filling her rib cage until she felt she was breathing in fire. The heat mounted and she concentrated on looking at the young man and thinking about healing him, about defeating the disease that was seeking his death. She pressed her hand gently, her whole palm making contact with his hot brow, and closed her eyes. Immediately she saw a brightness and knowledge rushed into her as it had with Tallis. She saw black clusters clawing red flesh, saw blood flowing weakly through organs barely pumping life, and without knowing how she sent the brightness of the energy streaming through it, pushing the black away, restoring blood to the organs and muscles. The man’s heart began to beat with a solid strength and his lungs expanded as he took a deep breath of air.

  She wasn’t sure how long it took for the blackness to disappear, but when she removed her hand and opened her eyes the pallor had receded from his cheeks to be replaced by the merest flush of pink. His breathing was even, his eyes restful now behind the lids. The heat of the fever was gone.

  She slumped down on the end of the bed. She had done it; she was sure he was healed. How she would explain it to the Sisters she neither knew nor cared. She had reversed a harm that Azoth had wrought. Perhaps she would be able to save lives that might otherwise be lost. She looked down at her hands, then slowly, wondering, looked at her own injured leg, the weaker muscles of her left arm. Perhaps she could heal herself.

  Ignoring the aching of her body she concentrated hard on her left leg, staring at it, focusing on its weakness, the pain that dulled it. But nothing came. Her fingers stayed numb. Shaan checked the young man once more then left the room. She would go and have a short sleep and try again. Maybe that was all that was needed.

  She was almost at the end of the corridor when Sister Lyria returned, hurrying up behind her.

  ‘Shaan,’ she called out, ‘where are you going?’