Imatar is gone. Go now, Emaque.
Emaque didn’t have to be told twice. “Now,” he said to the woman, and then leaned over the edge. She placed her hands on his back so that she could feel any shift in his body if he planned to jump.
The spray was sharp and biting there, and the river water had more than its share of debris on the surface. He cursed under his breath. No matter what happened on this trip, he would get bruised.
He plunged his mind into the deep, searching for a spark of intelligence. He felt nothing, as if he weren’t in his body or any body, as if flesh no longer mattered. All he could see in this state was the spark of intelligence. Different kinds of creatures had different sparks. He searched, seeing tiny pinpricks and faint glows. It took a moment before he saw the kind of fire he was looking for. He slipped in.
Pardon the invasion, cousin, he said, as he always did, the words covering the physical jolt of having his consciousness land in a strange place. Then he felt the automatic cold—no surprise there—and the soft, soothing bulk of the water around his new frame. Buoyancy was a joy, and being able to breathe there, in the depths, made that joy even firmer.
NOT INVITED. NO. NO.
It was a Ze. He could tell by the pattern of speech, and then by the feel of the body.
Peace, cousin. I mean you no harm. I am merely looking for my way.
NOT INVITED. GO, OTHER. GO.
I will leave if you guide me through the mouth, through the channel, past the Stone Guardians.
NOT INVITED. GO NOW. GO.
The water was murky at this level. The light that filtered through was dim. He got a sense of rocks at the bottom, which probably interested the Ze, and other fish swimming by. Two bottom feeders were nibbling at the refuse along the sand between the rocks. Ahead he saw a bigger shape, probably a creature he didn’t know.
The last time I spoke with one of you, he told me all about the fish around him, as well as guiding me through the Stone Guardians.
ZE DIE. GO, OTHER. GO NOW.
Ze have died? Because of what? Because of us?
Emaque! Kapad’s voice sent an urgency. We haven’t time. Find something else.
ZE TAKE OTHER THROUGH FLOW. THEN DARK FALLS. BODIES. BREAK SURFACE. LEAK DARK. BRING EER. Ze DIE.
Eer. He cast back in his memory to the conversation he had had with the first Ze. He had seen one Eer. It was four times the size of the Ze, with a wide mouth filled with jagged teeth, puny eyes, and razor-sharp scales. Drawn, according to that Ze, to any destruction of life, the Eer would continue that destruction, killing and eating everything in its path.
He could say nothing. The Ze’s fear was legitimate.
Find something else, then! Kapad commanded, voice as firm as before.
What about Imatar?
Imatar is not your concern.
Emaque felt the urgency then. He didn’t know how he felt it: before, he had always been separate from the creature, his consciousness, and himself. But if Kapad wasn’t answering questions about Imatar, then Imatar had found nothing either.
He knew the Ze couldn’t hear Kapad, and he wasn’t sure the Ze felt the same urgency he did.
GO NOW. NOW.
Wait. Emaque directed his thoughts to the Ze. Even if I leave you, we will be in these waters. Without your help, we will be in them longer. Chances are there will be more bodies to attract the Eer without your help.
BEFORE NO EER. TOO MANY. NOW. GO.
That’s not true, Emaque said. There were Eer before. Your people knew what Eer were. There just weren’t as many chances for an Eer to go crazy. Whether you help me or not, the Eer will go crazy in this area soon. You’re better in the sea. Take me with you. Escape the Eer and help me at the same time.
The Ze swam in small confused circles for a moment, then stopped and nibbled some weed off a rock. Then it pointed itself toward the mouth of the river.
QUICK, THEN. BEFORE EER.
The Ze jutted forward, its tail flapping, its small body straining. It kept to the bottom, maneuvering around the rocks as if searching for food. It took Emaque a minute to realize the Ze was keeping close to find a hiding place.
How are the currents up top? he asked, knowing that while the Ze was giving them a path, it wasn’t completely helping the ship.
SEA STRONG. This Ze wasn’t as talkative as the first Ze had been, and if other Sailors hadn’t had the same experiences with Zes, Emaque would have thought his first experience odd.
This Ze was terrified. The carnage in the area must have been horrible.
And when do we get to the Stone Guardians?
CIRCLES. MUCH DANGER. EVEN ZE DIE IN CIRCLE WATERS.
Great, Kapad sent to him. We pick a day with currents so strong, they kill fish.
Emaque ignored him. Is there any way around the Stone Guardians that is safe?
SOMETIMES. DURING SPAWNING.
When do Ze spawn? Kapad asked.
How the hell should I know? Emaque sent back to him. He watched out of the fish’s eyes and saw other Ze flanking them like a protective force. They knew so little about Zes. Did they have their own version of telepathic powers? He worked so hard at discovering routes, he didn’t know the rest. The lack of knowledge made him uneasy. He occupied the mind of the creature without welcome and didn’t even know what the creature was.
The rocks grew darker. Smaller fish darted among them. The weeds waved in the current as if pointing the way for them. Emaque wished that the Ze would look up; he wanted to see the position of the ship’s hull above them. The bottom curved downward, and the water took on a life of its own, tumbling in an underwater fall. Even though Emaque could not see the Stone Guardians, he figured the Ze had taken him to the mouth of the river.
Ships, Kapad warned. Emaque thought he could hear fear in Kapad’s mental voice.
We need to go as quickly as we can. There will be fighting on the surface, and maybe dark waters and more bodies.
HIDE. GO NOW, NOT INVITED. HIDE.
The Ze started to head for the rocks. Emaque wished for more than mental power. No! They’ll find you here. Get us out of the Stone Guardians while there’s still time.
HIDE, the Ze said again.
No! We’ll all die!
That stopped the Ze. Emaque was afraid that it would swim in circles again, but it didn’t. It started swimming toward the surface. Above them, and a bit to the back, Emaque saw the hull of the Uehe. Other things blocked the opaque surface light all around, but the Ze’s eyes weren’t that good.
The water had cold pockets as it fed into the Infrin. The current pulled at the Ze’s body, and the little fish swam higher as if to get away from them. The Uehe was following them: did that mean Imatar had not found a spark? or that his spark was even more reluctant than Emaque’s?
Do these circle currents reach the surface?
SOME. FAST. MOVE FAST. ONLY SAFETY.
It took him a moment to understand that. The only safety was in moving fast. He hoped the Uehe was moving as fast as it could.
The other shapes blocking the darkness seemed closer. Below, an Eer played in the swirling waters. The Ze swam even faster, its companions fanning out like a decoy force. Had he hit an important Ze? Or did they all know something was happening? He had never seen fish act this way. If he survived, he promised himself he would learn more about the creatures he invaded.
Muck floated in the water: bits of seaweed and fish dung, plus garbage from the surface, leaves and grass and dead bugs. They were very close to the surface now. Through the fish’s eyes he could see the other shapes more clearly.
Hulls. But not Fey. Small boats.
Islander.
They’re around you! he sent to Kapad.
Keep going, Kapad sent back. Let us handle the surface.
But the boats are small. He knew that small boats sometimes got lost in a crew’s zeal for finding larger ships.
The Stone Guardians are ahead.
Emaque couldn’t see them. The deb
ris in the water continued to churn. The Ze kept looking down, apparently watching for the Eer.
It swam over several small whirlpools. They felt like tugs against its body.
Are we going through the Guardians near the surface? Emaque asked.
BOTTOM SHARP ROCKS. NO SAFETY. ONLY SAFETY NEAR AIR.
No wonder the Zes had been good choices in the past. They had a fear of the current dashing them against the rocks.
Powers! Kapad’s thought was sharp and sudden.
What happened? Emaque asked, but he got no answering response. Kapad! Kapad!
Finally, faintly, Keep swimming. We’re almost free—
And then nothing. But he couldn’t be dead. If one man died while linked, the other died too. Kapad was still alive, but not communicating. Maybe he needed all his effort to filter both Imatar’s and Emaque’s perceptions.
The Stone Guardians loomed, craggy and ominous in the water. They were really one stone with a lot of jagged edges, as well as caves and carvings through the center. One Ze had tried to lead the ships through a cave on the way in: the Sailor had to pull out at the last minute and find another host to prevent disaster.
Weed grew along the rock’s porous surface. Some tendrils were long as hair and just as fine. The Ze barely looked at them in its panic.
DARK! it cried. DARK!
At first Emaque thought it meant the Guardians, and then he understood. The water was turning dark around them, as if the rain on the surface had turned to blood.
Emaque fought the urge to pull up, back into himself. No. They had reached the Guardians. They were almost free of this horrid place. Almost.
The Ze swam even more quickly toward the rocks. It went so near the surface, the spines on its back cleared the water. The air felt as heavy and suffocating as water did when Emaque was in his own body. The Ze headed toward an opening between the Guardians that the Ze on Emaque’s previous trip had warned him against.
EER! EER!
Emaque didn’t see the Eer but knew it had to be wallowing in the blood.
No, Kapad cried. The channel is too narrow. It will sheer the ship.
Is there another way?
NO TIME! EER!
I don’t see the Eer. Please, can we find another way?
OTHER SAFE FAR AWAY. ONLY ESCAPE FROM EER.
Please—Emaque thought.
NO! And the Ze plunged into the space between the Guardians. For a moment Emaque hung on and then realized the futility. He would be too far to return to his own shell.
You’ll have to trust Imatar, he sent, and pulled out of the Ze.
The sudden blindness shocked him. He scanned the area around him and saw no sparks at all. Then he remembered to look outside the water.
His consciousness zoomed back into his own body, and immediately he became aware of two things: his left side had fallen asleep all the way to his arm, and sharp pains shot through his back. He was drenched, his hair plastered to his face, his clothing stuck to his skin. The ship had stopped moving, though, and so the spray did not catch him in the front.
He opened his eyes. The water below him was laced with blood, and already bodies floated on the surface. He stood slowly, not sure what the pains in his back were, and found that he was alone.
The girl had left him. He didn’t see her or her body on the rain-and blood-slicked deck. He squinted and scanned the horizon. The small ships were returning to Blue Isle. The Uehe was still heading for the Stone Guardians, being drawn by the current.
Kapad! Turn us around!
I am. Kapad’s voice was faint in his head. Too faint when they were this close.
The blood was flowing back into Emaque’s left side. The pain as the nerve endings came alive was exquisite. He put a hand on his back to cover the pain there and felt the ripped tatters of his shirt, and long, deep scratch marks—so deep, the skin had been tattered around them. The girl had hung on so tightly that something had had to drag her away. He looked again at the bodies in the water and this time recognized her uniform and build. She had tried. Somehow she had saved him—at the cost of her own life.
He hadn’t even asked her name.
The ship finally turned. He felt it groan as it moved in the water. Kapad had said nothing, unusual for him. Emaque squared his shoulders. No time for sentimentality. He gazed across the deck. It was broken up as if things had been shot through it, like the cannon fire the L’Nacin had used and then their underground had later sold to the Nye. He wondered if the vessel was even seaworthy. But the crew was supposed to take care of that. Only he didn’t know how many of them were still alive, if any.
Imatar was not on the other side of the deck, in his place. Maybe he, too, had come to himself. Or maybe his guardian had moved him—a dangerous and tricky thing, but one sometimes made necessary by battle.
The rain had turned to a light mist: the Weather Sprites had decided to seed only through the Stone Guardians. As the ship continued to turn, Emaque saw even more bodies in the water, and wood from a destroyed Islander ship.
Emaque? Kapad’s essence seemed even fainter this time. I need help—
Emaque hurried across the deck, avoiding the holes and the broken equipment. A body, badly twisted and melted, crouched under a chair. He shuddered. They had met the Islanders, and the Islanders had used their poison. He wasn’t sure he wanted to see what had happened to Kapad.
Still, Emaque grabbed the railing and mounted the steps that led to the pilothouse. They were slick, and they shouldn’t have been. He clung as he moved, and when he reached the top, he first looked to the Guardians. They were behind the ship now. Emaque silently thanked the Powers. He would never have been able to navigate a ship through those mountainous rocks.
Then Emaque looked at the wreckage that was the pilothouse. The glass had been broken on all sides, and most of the crew were hideously dead, the stench from the potion and melted flesh rising over the stench of blood.
Kapad’s body was undamaged, but he huddled at the base of the great wheel. Emaque went to him.
“Imatar’s dead,” Kapad whispered, the words having that curious echo effect in his ears and head.
A chill ran down Emaque’s back. He had to sever the link with Kapad, and quickly.
“Ship first,” Kapad said. “There’s still crew alive. You have to get us to Shadowlands. Can you pilot?”
“If I have to,” Emaque said. “With your help.”
“I don’t know how much help I can be,” Kapad whispered.
I’ll die if you do, Emaque sent.
I won’t die. As if that were a promise any man could keep. Kapad couldn’t keep his eyes open. He stretched a shaky hand to Emaque.
Where’s Imatar? Emaque sent.
The tainted arrows got him when we saw the ships. Someone said the girl took yours. They’re getting wise to our ways, Emaque. Kapad’s eyes fluttered open. We have to sever the link.
Emaque nodded. He took the tiny gold scissors from Kapad’s breast pocket and snipped the air in front of Kapad’s nose, and then in front of his own. No one was certain how that magick worked, except perhaps the symbolism severed the link in the minds.
Kapad looked up at him. “We’ll never get off this damn island,” he said, and died.
THIRTY-SIX
The rain had stopped, but the air still felt damp. The Rocaan stood at the edge of the pit, his tiny filigree sword in one hand and a pouch filled with burial herbs in the other. The Danites usually Blessed the dead, but lately, when it came to mass anonymous burials, the Rocaan had been doing the work himself.
This burial pit was on a small hill overlooking the Cardidas, just outside of Jahn. Other pits were hastily covered, and someone had posted a sign warning the curious away. The grave diggers waited at the edge of the hill, their backs to the Rocaan. Diggers were unclean, and unable to take part in any religious ceremonies.
Two Elders, Porciluna and Andre, stood a respectful distance away. None of the Elders believed the Rocaan should be
there. They believed him too old and frail to stand in the wind.
The rotting smell from the mass grave was mixed with the odd perfumy scent of lime. The Rocaan stared at the bodies below, wrapped in cheap linen and tied head and toe. He hoped the Holy One had guided their way to God’s side. No one deserved to end up like this, one slab of meat among many, resting on a thin layer of dirt between them and other dead.
This group of twenty—mostly men—had died defending six hovels to the south of Jahn. Apparently Fey had raided the meager store of goods the families had stored, and they had come out brandishing weapons. None had had holy water, having used it to fight off a previous raid.
Sacrifice: The First Book of the Fey Page 25