by Lara Morgan
‘I wish I believed that,’ Tallis said softly.
‘I will believe for both of us,’ Jared replied. ‘But sleep now, earth brother, Kaa does not hunger for you yet.’
It was an old Jalwalah saying and Tallis felt a sharp ache pull at his insides at the sound of it.
Soon, Jared’s breathing became deep and regular and a short distance away Attar and Bren lay snoring quietly, but Tallis couldn’t rest. The flat ground felt like sharpened points beneath him and the cold air made his fingers ache. He closed his eyes, but his mind circled incessantly around his fears and it was a long while before sleep claimed him.
29
Shila sat up. Sweat covered her skin and her was heart pounding. The Guides had visited her again, sending her dreams full of portent and warning. Pushing back the furs she crept from the bed, her fingers questing in the dark for her robe, shaking slightly as they fell on the soft pelt. The Guides had not been happy, even beyond what little they showed her she had felt their fury at things unsaid. Something disturbed them greatly and they had sent a message to her because of it.
Thadin grunted and turned in his sleep as she slipped quietly from their cave. The tunnel glowed dimly in the light of the few wall lamps, stretching away on either side silent and empty. Turning right she followed the path that led deep into the well. She moved silently, her senses straining for any sound that would tell her others were awake, but none came. It was after midnight, she guessed, and most were asleep. The smooth stone was cold and her feet grew chilled as she followed the twists and turns of the tunnel that led to the moon cave.
Oblong in shape and almost as large as the great cavern, its walls rose steeply to form a tunnel high above her head that opened to the sky. It allowed a shaft of moonlight to penetrate to the cavern floor, providing illumination and fresh air deep within the bones of the earth.
The cavern’s walls were honeycombed with living caves, four levels of them, reached by a system of carved stairs and rope ladders. Shila made her way silently across the soft sand floor, keeping away from the circle of light in the centre. She climbed up a narrow rope ladder to a second-level cave where light spilled from around the edges of a simple woven mat covering an entrance.
Without announcing herself, she pushed the fabric back and stepped into the small living area. Sitting on the thick floor rugs, with a lamp between them, were Mailun and Irissa. Both women looked up as she entered and Irissa half rose to her feet. ‘Dreamer,’ she exclaimed.
‘Irissa, I thought you would be here.’ Shila looked at Mailun. The woman of the Ice Lands showed no surprise, her face smooth of expression, her eyes dark.
‘May I sit?’ Shila addressed her.
‘Of course, Dreamer, you need not ask.’ Mailun turned and grabbed a large flat cushion, placing it on the rugs.
‘Thank you.’ She sank down to sit cross-legged facing them.
‘Would you like some nonyu?’ Mailun indicated the small pot warming on the flame of the lamp between them, the source of the aroma in the cave. She nodded and Irissa poured some of the sweet, spicy liquid into a clay cup. She accepted it, savouring the warmth after the cool of the tunnels.
Mailun watched her drink. ‘Why have you come to us, Dreamer?’
Shila put the cup down, placing it carefully on the uneven rugs. ‘The Guides have visited me,’ she answered quietly. ‘Something has changed in the world beyond our sands. They are angry.’
There was a flare of interest in Mailun’s eyes and Irissa shifted nervously.
Shila looked at Jared’s sister. ‘I did not tell you this before, Irissa, because the Guides did not wish it, but now I may. Your brother has not run from the clan, I sent him away.’ She put up a hand as Irissa opened her mouth, ‘I could not tell you child. His was a task appointed by the Guides. He was sent after Tallis to save his life.’
‘Karnit!’ Mailun spat the name, savage enmity in her eyes.
‘It was not clear to me at the time what would happen,’ Shila said, looking at her, ‘but I knew Jared must go, or Tallis would die.’
‘And . . . ?’ Mailun said.
‘He lives. Both live. The Guides have spoken to me this night. Among other things they have revealed that Jared and Tallis have gone to the land of the wetlanders, although I don’t know how or when.’ She reached for her cup again, suddenly needing to hold onto something. ‘They also showed me that still Kaa has come to our clan.’
‘What do you mean?’ Irissa said.
‘I saw Karnit and his men, they arrived at the Gathering with two fewer than when they began. Penrit and Relldin. Both men were sent to Kaa at the Stolen Well, their blood spilled by Jalwalah blades.
‘Jared and Tallis?’ Irissa whispered, her face white.
Shila nodded.
‘And you weren’t told before that this was what would happen?’ Mailun said, a hard edge to her voice.
‘No. They showed me only death waiting for Tallis should Jared fail, but not . . .’
‘The deaths of the others,’ Mailun finished. ‘The Guides didn’t explain what they would have to do to escape, did they?’
Shila’s lips thinned. ‘The Guides’ ways are not for me to question, Mailun. Their reasons are beyond our understanding. They show me only glimpses and often I struggle to understand their purpose.’
‘Yes,’ Mailun said with a humourless smile. ‘The gods of the desert are ever frugal with their guidance.’
‘Mailun,’ Shila warned, ‘the Guides are always listening.’
‘And what more could they do to me? I have nothing left for them to take. Kaa has taken my second sons and my heart mate, and now he stalks the last line of my blood. But perhaps it is not the Guides that punish me, but Karnit. Never has he spoken to me or my son, always he has despised us.’ Her lip curled as she spoke. ‘I say it is he who has caused this. Why else would my son, or Jared, draw a blade against their own if it were not to defend themselves? Karnit sent those men to kill him. Tallis and Jared did the only thing they could to avoid being sent to Kaa themselves.’
‘I was not shown how the men died,’ Shila said. ‘I was only given the little information I told you. It is not certain Jared and Tallis killed those men, neither is it certain that what you claim is truth.’
‘I don’t claim it, I know it,’ Mailun said bitterly. ‘Karnit has always hated us, Shila. You know that.’
Shila didn’t answer. She could not deny what Mailun claimed. Karnit despised any who were not pure desert bred and always he had slighted Haldane for his choice of mate. But would he go so far? Would he murder his own clansman? Something told her there was more at work here than Karnit’s machinations. The Guides shifted in the ether, planning something.
‘Do the others in the Gathering party know Jared was there?’ Irissa asked.
Shila looked at the younger woman. ‘I don’t know. But when they return they will see Jared is not here and suspicion will fall. All know of his closeness to Tallis. They swore the oath of brotherhood when they were children. None will believe he would go anywhere else but to honour his oath.’
Silence fell between them and Mailun stirred the pot of nonyu slowly, staring into the dark liquid. All of them knew what that meant. To spill the blood of a clansman was against their laws. Any who did were made Outcast, and any who helped an Outcast could suffer the same fate. When Karnit and his men returned, the Circle would have no choice but to formally declare Tallis Outcast. And what then would they do to Jared?
Irissa sat fidgeting with the corners of her cushion, her face set in anger until, unable to contain herself, she leaped to her feet and began pacing back and forth smacking her empty cup against her palm.
‘What is the point of this?’ she cried. ‘What is the Guides’ plan for my brother? My mother has not spoken since he disappeared and my father spends all his time out in the sands hunting and searching. And now you say you have seen him living and that he has spilled the blood of his own clan!’ She threw her cup against the wall
so it shattered. ‘Are the Guides helping us or leading us to our destruction? Are we nothing to them but sand dust!’ Angry tears filled her eyes.
Shila stood slowly, looking up at the taller woman. ‘I have no answers for you, Irissa. But know this: I came to you and Mailun first because I understand that of all in the clan, you two women are the most affected. I must tell what I have seen to the rest of the Circle as soon as the sun rises, but they cannot make a decision until Karnit returns. I have no doubt that Tallis will be made Outcast.’ Her eyes went to Mailun. ‘Karnit will make sure of it, and there will be nothing I can do. My past interference will be discounted in the face of the death of these clansmen. As for Jared,’ she turned her gaze to Irissa, ‘there may be hope yet. I will tell them the Guides instructed me to send him. It will be hard for them to decide his fate with that knowledge.’
‘But the decision will not be made until the Gathering party returns.’ Mailun looked at her with hard eyes.
‘Yes,’ Shila said. ‘It is hard to hear this I know. I would not be surprised if you both chose to make the pilgrimage to the temple of Kaa to ease your pain.’ She looked closely at Mailun. ‘It is a long way and many paths may cross on the journey.’
Mailun’s expression didn’t change, but she knew she had not missed the import of her words. Shila reached across and took her hand, squeezing it tightly. ‘Thank you for the nonyu, Mailun.’ She flicked her gaze once to Irissa and then left, letting the woven covering fall back behind her as silently as she had arrived.
Mailun sat quietly for some time after Shila had gone, staring at the flickering flame of the lamp.
Irissa strode back and forth across the small space fingering the hilt of her hunting knife, shaking her head until finally she stopped. ‘So now what do we do?’ she said. ‘How can . . .’
‘Irissa,’ Mailun said. ‘Sit.’
‘No! What is the Dreamer saying? That we should go to the temple and sit like old women while our clan disintegrates around us? While your son and my brother are lost to us?’
‘That is not what she said. Now, sit.’ Mailun pointed at the cushion. Irissa stood for a moment staring at her, but after a moment gave in and sat, her face set in stubborn lines.
‘Now,’ Mailun said. ‘The Dreamer has given us a gift. If you had listened to what was unsaid, you would have realised this.’ Mailun reached up a hand to hold the talisman at her neck. ‘She has given us a way to seek redemption or answers for our families.’
Irissa frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’
Mailun sighed and let go of the ivory. ‘We will not go to the temple, Irissa. I will leave this Well to seek my son, and you will come with me because of the love you bear, both for him and your brother.’
‘But . . .’ Irissa protested, blushing.
‘No. I know you care for Tallis, even though you would deny it to yourself. But I have no time or patience for games. By the grace of the Dreamer we have been given warning and must leave tonight. You do not have to come with me, but if we wait for Karnit to return our chance will be lost. Who knows what he will decree as necessary to atone for all this. But if we go now, there is a chance you can at least save your brother – if you can find him. The Circle’s decision could be reversed if he could speak for himself.’
Mailun squeezed her hand hard. ‘Will you come? It is your chance, Irissa.’ Mailun held hard to her hand. ‘You can find Jared, bring him home.’ Irissa wavered. Whatever she felt for Tallis, her brother was blood and she missed him. She could find him and redeem him to the clan.
She nodded. ‘I will come.’
‘Good. Go now and prepare a pack and tell your mother that I am inconsolable in my grief and that you have chosen to accompany me to Kaa’s temple tonight. She is a good friend and will not question you. I will meet you in the Great Cavern.’
Irissa rose and pushing back the woven covering was gone.
With dry eyes, Mailun filled a small pack with her few clothes, a knife and hunting sling, a sewing kit wrapped in seal leather that had been her mother’s, a small metal pot, a water skin, dried meat and pan bread and, lastly, a small package of cloth the size of her palm. Wrapped inside the oiled cloth was a delicate stone carving of a desert flower. This she put carefully between her clothes before tying the pack closed, then she extinguished the lamp and left the cave without looking back.
Irissa was waiting for her at the mouth of the Great Cavern, and as the two women left the sun started to rise in the east. A thin line of pink and gold limned the horizon, pushing back the purple dark of the desert night. The air was fresh and cool and the mar rats began to emerge from their burrows, poking out their small noses and turning their faces to the rising sun.
‘Which way do we go?’ Irissa asked, turning to take a last look at the place of her birth.
‘The way the Dreamer told us,’ Mailun answered. ‘Away from the sun to the place of the wetlanders.’
She gripped the straps of her pack and strode away to the west and Irissa, after one long last look, hefted her hunting spear and followed.
Hidden in the gloom of the Great Cavern’s mouth, Shila watched with an ache in her heart as the two women disappeared into the sands, their forms so small against the vastness of the sky. They were brave, those two, and capable, but their quest could be in vain. She felt then a moment of anger at the Guides. They had shown her more than she had been allowed to tell.
Tallis and Jared were not in the wetlanders’ city anymore, they were heading east on the back of a serpent and the Guides only knew what would befall them there. She could not fathom why they would not allow her to tell Mailun and Irissa of this. It was the Guides themselves who had told her to send the young men over those shadowed crests. Always it had been this way with them, the imparting of wisdom and then blindfolding her to their purpose. What was their interest in Mailun’s boy? Why did they fight so hard to protect and yet damn him? Shifting her gaze toward the Black Mountains she wondered what they would have her do next.
30
Tallis woke just before sunrise, feeling as though he had had no sleep at all. Attar and Bren were already strapping their packs and tightening the harnesses on the serpents, puffs of breath drifting in the air around them. Pulling his coat close he helped Jared roll up their gear.
They took off just as the sun cleared the horizon. Marathin soared almost straight up and Tallis was glad he had taken only a few sips of water before mounting. His stomach heaved and he had to fight a surge of dizziness until she rose higher and levelled out, gliding on currents of air between the black peaks. The wind was biting cold and he hunkered down low, peering through watering eyes at the mountains.
‘Look!’ Attar shouted and pointed below them, ‘The Pass of Hittar.’ He glanced back, the wind whipping spit from his mouth, ‘The only way through on foot!’
Tallis looked down at a tiny, snaking path almost hidden in the vast blackness of the mountains. It followed the foot of a ridge and then disappeared into the shadow of a rift. He wondered how often it was actually used. Who but damned men would ever choose to pass through these dead and shadowed lands? Jagged black peaks and deep rifts dominated his vision and it seemed there was nothing more left in the world than black rock and dark shadow.
They flew on over the endless blackness for another day and a night, stopping only briefly to rest, for the oppressiveness of the place seemed to seep even into the hearts of the serpents, and they all yearned to be free of it. On the morning of the third day, Tallis finally saw a change. The ranges were slowly reducing until they ended in a dark smudged haze, the lands beyond hidden by the glare of the rising sun.
Finally, as the sun reached its zenith, they swooped around the sheer sides of a square-topped peak, and were suddenly skimming over a grassy plain. Immediately, the oppressive feeling that had been shadowing them lifted. They were through the Black Mountains. The serpents glided together, wingtips almost touching, toward a clump of green, their shadows racing them across the
plain. They dropped down as they approached and Tallis saw that what he had thought were shrubs were actually trees, but he had no idea what kind of trees they were, and soon they had left them far behind.
The plains gave way to hills and valleys as they turned north, flying toward a shimmering line, which by late afternoon had resolved itself into a river: a wide belt of dark brown water, edged by twisted, white barked trees. Square houses, built on stilts clustered in pockets along the banks, surrounded by open areas of land. The day waned and as the sun started to drop low in the sky, they came to a wide bend in the river and he saw a thin stream of grey smoke rising into the air. The village of Faro.
More of the stilted houses appeared, built in a spreading circle along the riverbank, perhaps forty in all. Marathin dropped lower and Tallis saw that most of the buildings were either leaning toward the ground or collapsed upon it. They had been knocked from their stilts and were smashed and charred, the ground everywhere littered with debris. In the centre of the village, a huge circle of ash marked the ground.
The smell of smoke and rancid decay hung in the air, and as they approached he saw a number of tents set up on the outskirts of the village in a field of flattened, dry grass. A cooking fire smouldered in the central area and small figures moved around, gathering into a group in the field as the serpents descended.
They glided in toward them and by the time they had dismounted a small group had assembled, led by a short, stocky man who came forward and clasped forearms with Attar. The men exchanged a few words while Tallis and Jared helped Bren unstrap the saddles and harnesses from the serpents.
The men hovering behind their leader stared at them. They were covered in dirt and sweat and, like the riders, their skin was a pale brown. Most had short beards and their hair was cut close to their scalp. Many had a knife strapped to his thigh. Bren called out to them and a few came forward and silently started picking up the saddles. Attar exchanged a few more words with the men’s leader and then turned.