“Did you hear anyone say the name Khazireen?” asked Thero.
“No, Master. I couldn’t understand what anyone was saying. It was just a lot of yelling.”
“May I touch your mind?”
“Of course, Master.” Mika closed his eyes.
Thero gently touched the boy’s brow and his face lit up. “It’s him. You saw Khazireen and the dyrmagnos. Well done, Mika! You’ve brought us very important information. It’s going to help us save Klia. Did she say what the dyrmagnos really looks like?”
“Just that she’s very ugly.”
“That pretty much defines a dyrmagnos,” said Micum. “Is there anything else, Mika?”
“I don’t think so.”
Micum patted the boy’s knee through the blanket. “Well done, indeed. You’re a nightrunner now, the youngest one ever.”
“We’ll see about that later,” said Thero. “One last thing, Mika. You said the amulets didn’t work, but your magic did?”
“Sort of, Master. I tried to do a few spells to show the dyrmagnos when she told me to, but I couldn’t. It was just the red that came out at the end, and you know I can’t make that happen. It just does.”
“I know, and that’s also very important information. You may well have done something that I can’t. And it may be how you got back here. Are you hungry?”
Mika nodded.
“I’ll send for some food. Micum, come out with me?”
Micum gave Mika a parting smile and followed the wizard outside.
“We have to tell Seregil about Zella quickly,” said Micum. “Are you going to contact him?”
“Yes.” Thero summoned a tiny blue message sphere on the tip of his index finger and spoke to it. “Seregil, Mika is back with information. Have you found what I sent you for? Beware of Lady Zella. She’s possessed by a dra’gorgos.” He flicked his finger and the light whizzed away. A moment later it reappeared, floating in front of Thero’s face. He touched it and listened to something Micum couldn’t hear.
“He has the arm ring, and Zella’s dead,” said Thero, looking grim. “He says he needs you to meet him at the governor’s house as soon as you can.”
“Good. Now we just need for Alec to show up. Then the four of us—” He paused a moment. “Thero, does it strike you at all that there are four of us working together on this?”
“Not really. Why?”
Micum smoothed his thumb and forefinger over his long moustache. “When we went up against Seria—”
Thero held up a hand in a warding sign.
“The one we called the Eater of Death, then. Nysander told us the prophecy of the Four: the Unseen Guide, which was Seregil; the Vanguard, which was me; the Shaft—Alec; and the Guardian—Nysander. And here we are, Seregil, Alec, me, and Nysander’s successor, about to fight a dyrmagnos, like we did then.”
“Hmm. Interesting, but I don’t think we’re in any shape to take on a god again.”
“Who’s taking on a god?” Alec asked, striding out from between two tents.
“There you are!” Thero greeted him with obvious relief. “It looks like you managed not to get yourself hurt for once. Where did you come out this time?”
Alec gave him a weary nod. “At the ruins over the ridge. It’s the same town as on the other plane, Thero. The river, the way the town’s laid out—it has to be the same, except that the river is dry now and there’s that round bare spot where the tower should be.”
“How is that possible for it to be two places at once?” asked Micum. “And why would the tower be gone on this side?”
“I don’t know, but I’m certain it is,” Alec replied. “On the other side it’s still intact and people live there, or at least ghosts do. And the woman in red.”
“Her name is Rhazat, and she’s a dyrmagnos, as we feared. And the town is called Zikara.”
“How do you know that?”
“Mika came back last night, too,” Thero explained. “Klia is alive and sent him back with some important information.”
“Thank the Light! We’ll get to her somehow, Thero.”
“Master!” Mika called from the tent.
Thero and the others ducked inside.
“Alec!” Mika exclaimed happily.
“Hello!” He knelt and took the boy’s hand. “How did you get yourself back?”
“I’ll explain later,” Thero said. “Mika, what is it?”
“I remembered something else, something Rhazat said to Klia just before she tried to put a dra’gorgos in me. She was doing it to scare Klia into helping her because I guess Klia had said that Rhazat could kill her but she wouldn’t do what the dyrmagnos wanted. I was really scared and Rhazat had already broken my arm, but she said to Klia, ‘You and your unborn child.’ Is Klia going to have a baby?”
There was a shocked silence, then Thero asked in an unsteady voice, “Are—are you certain that’s what she said, Mika?”
“Yes, Master, on account of I was really surprised. Klia didn’t tell me that when she gave me all the other things to remember. You didn’t know, either?”
“No, I didn’t,” Thero replied faintly, turning away with a hand to his forehead. “How is that possible?”
“Here, before you faint.” Micum drew Thero over to the other cot and sat down beside him.
Thero looked poleaxed. “It’s not possible!”
“Remember what happened to you in Aurënen?” asked Alec. “The dragon bite? Maybe that has something to do with it.”
“Illior’s Light!” Thero murmured. “The Bash’wai—” He was silent for a moment, then said, “The Bash’wai woman told me that my kind would be made whole.”
Micum rested a hand on Thero’s shoulder. “I didn’t want to say anything, since Klia hadn’t, but I thought as much, on the ship, and that day she got sick at the cave.”
“How could you know?” asked Thero.
Micum smiled. “My old gran and auntie were the midwives back in Cavish, so I was around a lot of pregnant women. And I saw Kari through four of her own times, of course. Even a man gets to know the signs. I’ve been thinking Klia has a look about her. Maker’s blessings, Thero.”
“I hope so,” the wizard murmured.
That could be taken a couple of different ways, thought Micum, and left it at that. “I think I’d best go see what Seregil wants.”
“Seregil’s not back yet?” asked Alec.
“He’s still in Deep Harbor,” Micum told him. “He’s fine, but he needs me to meet him there.”
“I’ll go.”
“I’ll need your help today, Alec,” said Thero, sounding a little more like himself. “You know what the town is like in the other plane. Perhaps that can help us find something there as it is now. I’ll explain all that Mika told us on the way.”
“What was that you were saying when I got here about fighting a god?” asked Alec.
“I’ll explain that, too.”
Doctor Kordira was mixing herbs in her dispensary when Seregil stepped in.
“Good morning!” she said with a smile. “How are you doing today?”
“Better, but still sore and in need of some doctoring. Do you have any more of that excellent brandy?”
She laughed. “I do, but it’s a bit early in the day for that.” She took a cup from a shelf, poured something from a large glass jug, and tapped some powder into it, then whisked it together. Coming around the table, she handed it to him. “This should get you back to Menosi with your wits about you.”
“Much obliged.”
He downed the bitter concoction and reached for his purse, but she shook her head. “No need. Consider it a favor for a friend. You did save my life, after all, when Zella—” She shook her head sadly. “I’m still trying to understand that. Come into the back room and let me change your bandages and look at your wounds. With all the traipsing around you’ve insisted on, I want to make certain there’s no infection.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
The ba
ck room looked rather like a simple, sparely furnished bedchamber, with a cot and table, several stools, and a chest with many small drawers. From it she took out the materials she needed and saw to his wounds as he sat on one of the stools, stripped to the waist.
“You’ve scabbed up nicely,” she noted as she sponged the scratches on his neck and chest. “I’ll bind you up, but I think after this you can do without the bandages. Now let’s have a look at your poor head.”
Seregil took off the head scarf and let her examine the stitches in his scalp.
“You’re healing well. I’d say your drysian can take the stitches out in a week’s time.” She took a small jar from a shelf. “Here’s a salve that will help you heal faster. Just keep your head covered until then.”
“That was my intention.” Seregil chuckled. “You have no idea how vain I am.”
Bidding her good-bye, he rode off to take a look at “the Point”—which, according to the girl who’d served him breakfast this morning, was one of the local burial grounds. Located on a promontory just east of Deep Harbor, it had been an Aurënfaie slave graveyard; apparently the islanders maintained their own neighborhoods even in death. Asking directions as he went along the harbor road, Seregil found the place: a low spit of land jutting into the sea.
The burial ground was a lonely, untended place. Most of the grave markers were little more than boards with names carved on them, stuck into the ground. He had the place to himself, apart from the gulls circling overhead and a flock of ravens strutting through the long grass between the markers, no doubt hunting for well-fed beetles and worms. It was a large burial ground, and an old one. In places there were no markers at all, but there were long depressions in the ground where the graves had sunk.
Among the newest markers there was a handful of fresh graves and Seregil soon located Markis the workman. Noting the spot, he whispered, “I’ll be back to see you again, tonight, my thieving cousin. Your brother sends his regards.”
He rode back to the governor’s house and found Micum waiting for him in the dining room, having a meal and flirting with the maid.
“Would you like luncheon, Baron?” she asked.
“I would. Whatever Lord Micum is having will be fine.”
Micum watched her go, then raised an eyebrow at Seregil over his plate of roasted vegetables, marrow pudding, and mutton. “You’re looking better.”
“I am, thanks in good measure to our friend the doctor. What news do you have for me?”
“Mika came back last night, and Alec, too.” He told Seregil about Klia and the dyrmagnos, the boy’s dream, and the strange word.
“Eshrlee?”
“He wasn’t certain, but said it sounded like that.”
Seregil thought a moment. “Could it be ‘es rili,’ I wonder?”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s old-dialect Aurënfaie for ‘my skin.’ ”
“What in Bilairy’s name kind of sense does that make?”
“I don’t know, but something in that cave wanted Mika to hear it, something that spoke Aurënfaie. Did he say if it was a man or woman’s voice?”
“No.”
“Hmm. Well, at least we have some actual information to work with. It looks like Nhandi was the one who set the inner seal. Interesting.” He took the arm ring from an inside pocket and handed it to Micum. “This belonged to our dyrmagnos, who was lovers with the Aurënfaie man, Khazireen, and apparently they ruled Menosi at some point, if Mika had a true dream. You know, I’m thinking that maybe the cataclysm that struck Kouros was the dyrmagnos. Didn’t Zella say that Kordira knew something of the island’s history? Perhaps she can fill in a few gaps for us.”
“What’s your opinion of the doctor these days?”
“She’s a very good physician and levelheaded in a crisis. We had a bit of excitement on the way here from Mirror Moon with Lady Zella.”
“So I heard. What happened?”
“From the moment Kordira told me that only Zella had escaped when Klia was taken, I was suspicious.”
“Why leave a witness, unless you wanted the story told?”
“Exactly. And Zella told quite the story, only I couldn’t find a single trace on the road to verify it. Also, why would she go past Mirror Moon afterward and end up under the bridge when she could have found help at the estate? Her tears finally gave her away, though.”
“Her tears?”
“She wept a great deal, especially when I pressed her in the carriage after I’d searched for tracks and didn’t find any. When I handed her a handkerchief, I discovered that her fingers weren’t wet, as they should have been. Considering what Alec told us about the river in the other plane, I had my proof that things weren’t as they should be.”
“What happened?”
“She attacked me, but as soon as she touched the amulet it drove the dra’gorgos from her. Sadly, she didn’t survive the shock of it.”
“That’s a pity, to be sure. What else have you been up to?”
“I talked to a fellow last night whose brother stole this arm ring from the lower cave, and these.” Seregil showed Micum the other pieces he’d gotten from Lemiel. Micum immediately picked out the piece of the rosette.
“This is the seal?”
“What’s left of it. My informant claimed his brother hacked it up for trade, but since he died soon after the theft, I suspect it was the surviving brother who did that. He claimed to know nothing about the black opal. But guess what the younger brother died of—a ‘flux of the gut,’ complete with bloody black vomit and shit.”
Micum sighed and pushed his plate away. “So would it be fair to say that you invited me down here for a little grave robbing?”
Seregil gave him that familiar crooked grin that seldom boded well. “If you found the greatest treasure you could imagine, a beautiful glowing precious stone, where on your person would you hide it in case you were searched?”
“I can only think of two sure places.”
“And I daresay he’d have shat it out, but it might have stayed in his belly.”
“When did he die?”
“Shortly after Toneus.”
Micum grimaced. “We’d better bring along some vinegar and handkerchiefs in that case.”
“First we’ll speak with Kordira.”
Kordira’s assistant directed them upstairs, where they found the doctor working at the tea table, sewing herbs into little muslin bundles.
“Hello, Micum. Back so soon, Seregil?” she said, setting her work aside. She seemed to have recovered from the shock of Zella’s death. “Do you need another draught?”
“No, just some conversation, if you have a moment.”
“Of course. Please, take a seat. I’ll call for tea.”
“That’s not necessary. We won’t keep you long,” said Seregil.
“Well then, what can I do for you?”
“When we first came to Kouros, Lady Zella mentioned that you’ve made a study of the island’s history.”
“Yes, back in Plenimar, in the archives at Benshâl, and what I could glean from legends here. What would you like to know?”
“Do you know anything about Nhandi the Wise?”
“Ah, the last of her line. Rather a tragic story, that, though there’s not much to it. It’s said she had an Aurënfaie wizard as her lover, who betrayed her and was executed.”
“A man named Khazireen?”
“I don’t know his name. It’s possible it was struck from the records due to his crime.”
“How did he betray her? Was it with another woman?”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but that’s all I know.”
“Could Nhandi have been a wizard?”
“I found no evidence of that, though there certainly were human wizards by then.”
“What about the event that struck the island, the cataclysm?”
“There is one eyewitness account in the archives that tells of a black wave that rolled over Kouros from
out of the sky about the same time that Nhandi disappeared. Thousands died, apparently. I think it must have been a massive tidal wave.”
“I’ve never heard of any grave for the Hierophant.”
“Nor would you, as there isn’t one.”
“Her body wasn’t found?”
She spread her hands. “That’s all I know.”
“Do you know what she looked like?” asked Micum.
Kordira smiled. “In the early records, she’s referred to as Nhandi the Lovely. Supposedly she had black hair and blue eyes and was very beautiful.”
“Black hair?”
“I’d be surprised if she didn’t. We Plenimarans didn’t intermarry much with other peoples, the way the Skalans and Mycenians have over the years. If you want to know what the Hierophants and their people looked like, look to us.”
“What about tales of a dyrmagnos?” asked Micum.
Kordira raised a brow at that. “You know of such things?”
“Sadly, yes.”
“Well, there aren’t any tales of them here, just a few witches. One of them was said to have been the first to bring the worship of the Dark One to these lands.” She paused and made a warding sign.
“The singular god?” asked Seregil. “The one known sometimes as the Eater of Death?”
“Yes, that’s the one,” she replied, making the sign again. “May we speak of something else? That’s a sore topic for us Plenimarans, a burden we bear.”
“Of course,” said Seregil. “Do you know where the witch came from?”
“From ‘across the water,’ according to the account I read. She was not referred to by name, probably to avoid bad luck. Supposedly she trained some of the local wizards in necromancy, though.”
“What happened to her?” asked Micum.
Kordira shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s best forgotten, wouldn’t you say? Kouros is peaceful and beautiful. No witches here anymore.”
“Let’s hope not,” said Seregil. “I was wondering, what do you make of people disappearing around Menosi since the death of the previous governor?”
“I’d say that’s fairly obvious,” she replied.
“How so?”
“It’s what everyone in Deep Harbor believes: whatever killed Toneus and Seria is still there, taking more lives. Think of poor Lady Zella. What became of her remains, Seregil?”
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