Nikka smiled a pure and beneficent smile. He had forgotten the joy in this work and, despite the material, he was pleased. So he picked up the staff and whirled it about his head. Haumea gaped at him and then laughed.
'My friend this is truly a wonder, but I fear you have erred in its creation.'
'Erred? How so? Is it not perfectly balanced? Does it not speak to you of creation and beauty?'
'Ah, indeed it does dark Cerni, but have you not made it somewhat long for a walking stick?'
Nikka planted the staff before him. It reached well over his head and was so thick the Cerni struggled to grasp it in his open hand.
'Dear me, you are right. What a clod I am,' said Nikka, but the smile remained on his face. 'It is a good job that I did not create this trifle for myself then is it not?'
Haumea blinked as Nikka twirled the white staff and offered an end to her. Haumea went to speak, but Nikka grew stern.
'You saved me on the hill, just as you did in the flood. When the side of the mountain collapsed you held me aloft and threw me clear, without regard for your own safety. This is the start of my repayment to you.'
The Giantess blinked again and then reached out to take the staff. She stood up and leant upon it. Then she smiled and lifted it over her head rolling it over her fingers.
She moved over to a boulder that lay on the ground and gave it a tentative tap. Then she hit the stone harder. Then harder still. Sharp retorts sounded and sparks flew at each strike, but the staff was undamaged. She laughed again and returned to the fire with her gift.
'I thank you Cerni. This is a wonder of which I am not certain I am worthy.' Haumea paused for second to look at the staff in the firelight.
'You are wondering what type of stone it is made from, are you not?' Haumea looked up and her cheeks coloured. 'I wondered on the top of the first balustrade we were on what it was, but when I touched it I knew. These are bones; petrified bones. Bones of something so massive it could eat us both in a single mouthful.'
-*-
Haumea shook Nikka awake. Nikka cursed as he saw the sun in the sky. He was not distraught, but it was one of the few he had missed since the day he crawled out from under the Rathou. His bones ached as he readied himself to move on.
The weather had remained calm during the night and no more rain had fallen, but clouds still cloaked the sun. His clothes were no longer soaked, but they clung to his skin and sapped the heat from him. When they left the cover of the trees, they saw that the next hill they would have to climb. Despite its gentle incline, Nikka sighed. 'Perhaps I should have made a staff for myself,' said Nikka as they reached the top of the first hill. Haumea moved the shaft of petrified bone that Nikka had melded for her in her hands.
Nikka paused for a breath. He looked up and then laughed himself. Then he pointed to the twin peaks of the mountain before them. 'Is it not something to behold brave Giantess? It has not the solemn majesty of the Rathou back home, but it has a peculiar beauty.'
Haumea's face tightened. 'It is a hill. Nothing more. One more obstacle to cross. One more huge… thing that I must put between me and my home.'
And onward they trudged, through the damp cool of the morning. On the rare occasions that the sun made an appearance, its heat was stolen by the breeze. By the time they reached the foot of the mountain, the Ghria Duh had risen. Despite being shrouded in the same clouds that hid the natural Sun, the presence of the dark orb robbed Nikka of his joy at seeing the peaks that morning.
As they moved onto the slopes, Nikka felt his body relax. To him, it was like renewing a lifelong acquaintance. The ground here was less damp than he had expected. Bedrock protruded regularly through the soil. He moved across the terrain as he once had, when he had led Wist and his companions down from the Rathou, in the wake of the battle with those poor Damned. After an hour, Haumea followed him over the land
They did not stop for rest that day. Instead, they ate as they walked, covering the miles between them and their destination. The line that Haumea picked took them over the lesser slopes of the mountain, skirting by its twin peaks. Part of Nikka though that he might like to stand atop it to see what the sunrise would look like.
'What do you know of this King we go to see?' asked Nikka.
'Nothing, or near enough,' replied Haumea. 'He is our King, but he means nought more than that to me.'
'But Ionracas,' said Nikka looking away from the Giantess, 'he meant something to you.'
Haumea swallowed before she spoke. 'He was my Glaine, the prime Glaine. What more do you care to hear? He cared for the land in which I lived, the land that I served.'
Nikka looked back to see that Haumea had stopped and turned her back to him. 'Do not tell me that he cared nought for me, dark Cerni. Do not tell me that he belittled me, or that in his sight I was nought. These things I know.'
'Tell me instead why I am here?' She threw her hands wide and spun balletically to reveal her tear streaked face. The staff span in her nimble fingers. 'I am lost.'
Nikka raised an eyebrow, but Haumea laughed at his puzzled expression. 'Oh Nikka, I do not mean I am lost in this land. I mean I am lost in my heart.'
'I cannot answer your questions,' said Nikka, drawing a slow breath and scanning the land. 'But know this brave Giantess; you are valued. I may have no right to judge your worth, but it cannot and should not be denied.' Haumea began to reply, but Nikka shook his head. 'No, not even by you.'
'That this land has a servant as courageous as you, gives hope that all is not lost.'
Nikka paused and stared to the north once more 'And as for being lost, there is our destination, is it not?' Haumea walked over beside him and, for the first time that day, she smiled.
There was Athadh. A large town built on a hill overlooking a meandering river that cut its way east along a plain to the ruined land that split northern Pyrite.
'If we get moving we should reach it by night.' Nikka slapped the Giantess on the thigh. 'So dry your eyes and get a move on.'
Haumea laughed in spite of herself. Then she put one end of the mottled staff on the ground and they set out, descending the northern initial slopes of this mountain.
-*-
They reached the town of Athadh an hour after sunset. A tributary stream, hidden in a fold of the land, had cost them time, but they had made it before the last of their energy had failed them.
As they approached the bridge that lead into the town, a guard came out to challenge them. ‘What is your purpose here?’ he enquired, eyeing Nikka suspiciously. The guard's voice sounded different to the other Giant's that Nikka had met in Ionracas' army. It rounded the edges of his words, giving them a sibilant tone.
‘We have been sent by Oinoir,’ began Haumea, and at the mention of his name, the guard stiffened. 'We must see Durach.'
The Giant guard's face crumpled. 'I will … I will take you.' The guard assessed her with a glance, but said nothing further. Then he swivelled and escorted them across the bridge.
He led them on, past simple, stone-built farmsteads and shops. They saw a group of Giant's children being called in from their play and, in the field after that one, a group of warriors trained for war.
High above them sat the focal point of this town; the castle. From its perch high up on the only hill it would have a commanding view of, not only the town, but all its approaches. Wherever they turned in their meandering path through the town, it was there, sitting in judgment, waiting.
But they turned from it and headed for an area of the city comprised of huge mansions, each with a few acres of land. By the time they arrived at a large house that lay in the centre of this are, it was pitch black. Torches lit the outside of the cream coloured stone walls guided them up the rocky path, but the flames looked as if they struggled to stay alight under the baleful presence of the black sun; the Ghria Duh.
Two Giants stepped out to meet them and their accompanying guard explained their purpose. 'You cannot see him now,' said the first Giant. 'Now is not a
good time. He rests.'
'Not a good time?' asked Haumea. 'Not a good time?' Do you assume that the scores of Giants that labour across uncharted terrain, under our feet, consider this time to be appropriate? Do you think that the Giants who die fighting the damned Intoli consider disturbing the rest of our king to be an unnecessary inconvenience?
'You do not understand,' the other Giant said.
'Clearly I do not,' said Haumea. The loss of her Glaine was too recent, too fresh to allow restraint.
As the Giant began to reply again, a howl erupted from within the stone dwelling.
'Nikka,' Haumea began, but Nikka had moved when he heard the cry. He pushed the Giant aside, catching him off balance and Haumea followed him.
Another scream told Nikka where they must go - down a flight of stone steps to the basement of the house. At the foot of the stairs was a single empty doorframe. An orange-red glow poured through the opening and spilled upon the floor like blood. Ignoring the omens, Nikka strode into the room followed by Haumea and the Giants' protests.
Nikka had expected to see a fire or a set of torches providing the light in the room, but all that was in the room was a bed and five Giants. Four of the Giants stood around the bare iron frame, one at each corner. Each of them held a limb of the prostrate Giant. He lay naked on the cot frame, thrashing to try and free himself.
The distress on the Giant's face did not shock Nikka. A lifetime ago, he had tortured Cerni and knew pain like an abandoned lover. The flames that danced over the Giant's skin were what stopped him. Those flames burned the king, but did not consume him. And the red of the flame was laced with a black as deep as midnight.
'Ghria Duh!' screamed Durach. 'Ghria Duh!'
16 - Starblind
Water trickled down the stone walls of Aviti's prison. Had she been in here for hours, or days? She did not care. She sat in the gloom, thought about her father and fought off sleep in case she opened herself to him. Her father was hers and hers alone, she refused to let Sevika have him. Aviti's tale of Wist sinking their ship had not moved the Intoli. It highlighted the depth of the chasm between them.
Aviti ran her hands over the damp stone of the wall beside her. She disliked it; distrusted the smooth surface. Stone should be rough, unforgiving and without mercy. It felt like a lie. It all felt like a lie.
Standing up, she let her blankets fall from her shoulders, leaving her exposed to the stream of cold air from the slots in the wall that looked out over the land. She ignored her shoulder and the lump on the edge of her vision and walked over to them. There she stood naked and let the air flay her skin. When she stood up on her tiptoes she could see the Sun. Not that corrupted ball of emptiness that had pursued her across this damned land, but the Sun; her constant companion as a child. It was the only thing that remained of her old life.
Or so she had thought.
She turned away from the window to Sevika. They had arrived in a thunderstorm, but now the Sun shone. At first, the glare from the sun blinded her to everything in the room, but even if she was sightless, she could locate the Intoli. Aviti touched her shoulder and grimaced when her fingers found a solid mass. She could no longer find the cylinder's hard edges.
Aviti felt nothing for herself now. She could reach for the link to Tyla, the one forged with pain and outrage, but she had no right to it. So she walked back over to the blankets and pulled them back over her body.
It was too much. She felt the walls around her. The suffocating damp choked her. The holes in the wall mocked her with fresh air that stole her heat and reminded her of her position. She was a slave. A slave. She would never be free.
Her fingers found the stone walls and she raked her nails along them till one of them broke. It sent a spike of pain through her finger. Could the Intoli feel that? She began to claw at the wall in hope that she could deliver a little of the pain back to the Intoli; back to her master.
She should have wept. In exhaustion and desperation, she should have wept. There was no hope for her. In this dark prison or out in this land she had grown to despise, she would find no hope. But there were no tears in her. So she screamed and then she screamed again.
Then she thought of her father again and she laughed. Her laughter started to mount. It teetered on the edge of an abyss for a moment and then it broke. Her shoulders quivered as she quietened and then she smiled. What would her father make of her now?
Sevika stood abruptly and after a second, the door to the cell swung inwards. A pile of Intoli robes were dropped at Aviti's feet by a small slave boy. His impoverished eyes caught Aviti's for a second before he scuttled back out the door. The door was slammed in his wake by the Intoli that stood outside.
In a numb stupor, Aviti clothed herself. They had attempted to alter the robes to make them fit her smaller human frame. The fine gown felt like silk, though it hung on her like a sack. The journey from Mashesh had taken its toll on her body, but she ignored the pangs of hunger and aching muscles. The fit of a captor's gown did not concern her.
The door opened again and in stepped a single Intoli. A male, thought Aviti without looking at his face. Waves of power preceded this Intoli into the room. It was a familiar sensation and it brought with it the urge once more. She had tried to forget about it; tried to send it to the abyss with all her other feelings, but it remained along with everything else.
This new figure gestured to Sevika and she rose and went to him. To anyone else Sevika's response would have appeared instantaneous, but to Aviti it looked ponderous. The Intoli interacted with seamless precision, as if the boundaries of one being overlapped the next – like a part of an unfeeling, uncaring machine.
This Intoli notice Sevika's hesitation. It grabbed the bar that controlled Aviti. She gasped as the contact to Sevika was removed, and this new presence forced itself into her. She was wrenched to her feet with a caress of pain through the bond by her new master.
'Ravan,' she said as he walked into a shaft of light. He neither confirmed nor denied the accusation. He just revealed his teeth, so Aviti said, 'Did you like what I did to your friend? Raktata. That was him was it not? I sent him to the sea, along with half of your army.'
Ravan's slender mouth curved up further. 'Oh you've no idea the pleasure it gave me. No idea.'
Aviti's thoughts stumbled. She glanced around. Sevika was gone from the room, leaving her alone with Ravan.
'Your little display has pushed everything to just where I need it. Without you, I'd be... inconvenienced somewhat.'
Her revulsion of his touch did not unsettle Aviti. But his words, his demeanour, his attitude was changed. It was changed, but it was still familiar.
'The desert whore has not lost all her sense.'
Desert whore?
'Not so defiant now are we?' the Intoli asked. The voice shifted as he spoke. The slight sibilant inflections of the Intoli retreated and were replaced with... with what?
Ravan laughed, but she heard a different voice. It came from someone she could kill.
A hand containing a brass bar struck her hard across the face and it knocked Aviti flat. From where she lay, she could see what she had suspected. Where the Intoli had stood, there was now a man. A scarred, pale white face looked back at her, twisted with bitterness as well as the damage Aviti had caused.
'Get up,' he spat. For a second it could have been Wist who stood before her, but then she caught sight of the face once more. The unmarked half of his face contorted again with a mix of rage and delight.
'You are an honoured guest of the Intoli. You shouldn't grovel in the dirt like a Lyrat's bitch.' Tilden smirked at his own cleverness, but Aviti ignored him.
Then Tilden crossed the cell to look out to the horizon as the dark-sun, the Kalsurja as the Intoli called it, appeared. He smiled and turned back, his white robe of the Intoli transformed by the black light to a cowl. He spread his arms wide like a bat and it blocked all the light from the openings.
'This is what awaits us all,' said a voice in
the black. 'This is what he has forced me to do. All he had to do was drink and end it all. All he had to do was set me free and the rest of this... hole could go on existing.'
The hysteria in the voice was barely contained and its fractious edge made Aviti cautious.
'But of course, he would not have been able to act would he. Not if he hadn't had help. At first I thought it was the mage – but he was as pathetic as I had suspected.'
The mage? He must mean Dregan.
The light poured back into the room as Tilden dropped his arms. It stung Aviti's eyes, but it had a queer aspect to it, as if seen through a shade.
'You had forgotten him hadn't you - too busy wallowing in self-pity? Don't fret. You can get … reacquainted soon.'
'No,' said Tilden, returning to his original train of thought, 'he wasn't the real power in that room. And neither was Wist was he?'
'No,' he said once again, answering his own question.
'Quite the coincidence that he should come fleeing out of Mashesh with more than the Lyrats, isn't it? Their loyalty and service were of great help in getting that little runt where I needed him. A pity I didn't gut the other one. But he serves me still.'
Serves me?
But Aviti had no time to ponder this as Tilden forced her to her feet. Just a trickle of pain through the bond achieved his desire. The arcs of agony in her body made her want to writhe. So she gritted her teeth instead, in simple defiance.
She felt her feet move without her volition. She was sick of it. Sick of the lack of control. Sick of the violation of her person. But she could do nothing about it - not yet. She would find a way.
Tilden led her out of the cell, through dark corridors and up flights of stairs until they reached the open air. When Aviti's eyes no longer hurt from the light, she saw that Tilden had re-assumed the guise of an Intoli. His white robes flowed around him once more, but Aviti saw it now for what it was; an illusion - an invention. She could even see the tendrils of darkness that held the glamour together. But they passed through the crowds of Intoli warriors and slavers, humans and even a couple of Giants, with salutes from Intoli that they passed.
The Redemption of Wist Boxed Set: Books 1 - 3: The complete collection Page 48