by Tia Reed
The jerk was meant to be a nod.
Prahak patted his face. “Good lad. Give me her name and you can go home.” He beckoned over his shoulder.
Rough Hands poured from the jug and set a cup to his lips. “Drink up.”
Timak gulped the bitter water. The thug tilted the cup too far. He had to splutter or he would have choked.
“You rotten mutt,” Rough Hands said, wiping spit from his face.
It didn’t matter Timak hadn’t mean to spit it out. Prahak held his nose and prised open his jaw so Rough Hands could tip the rest down his throat. The room spun fast as they untied him but he managed to stand as they left. The brew was weak. No nightmares except the one he was living. No dreams to escape to either.
Chapter 40
THE FIRST THUMP sent a dull vibration through the timbers of the boat. The second was solid enough to shudder the vessel.
“Jabberweis!” a call went up.
Men scooted across the deck, sailors cussed and oars splashed. Another thud struck in quick succession. The boat rocked.
Curled on her pallet, Kordahla gripped the pot of salve. Arun’s salve. She had drawn it to her heart each time the bolt across the door had scraped free, each time she had sensed Mariano looking in. Once she was sure Ahkdul had been there too. At times, plates clattered onto the chest beside her, some stinking of the mires, some not, those last perhaps heaped with the crusty bread they had loaded at the way station. She had paid no heed then, just as she ignored the muted roar drowning the captain’s orders now.
A little time later her door was unbarred. “A full day you have brooded. Now you will eat,” Mariano said. He placed a bowl of pungent stew on the chest.
“You killed him,” she whispered.
He pulled her up. Sitting on the bed she was forced to look up at him.
“Your already sullied honour was at stake.”
“Vinsant is my brother. What dishonour is there in that?”
“You appeared before the minoria uncovered. He held you. You were looking at him in a way you had no right to.”
She flinched as spit landed on her cheek. Mariano sucked in a breath and turned to the wall.
“There was nothing between us,” she said.
“Lord Ahkdul has been forgiving of your indiscretions but he is no fool. No one person is more important than the treaty between our nations, especially now we go to war. Not the minoria. Not you, Kordahla.” He picked up the stew and handed it to her.
She forced half the reeking broth down before her stomach revolted. It hardly mattered; hunger had fled with her will. She had ceased living days ago. Without Arun’s guidance, without Vinsant’s laugh, she had no reason to go on. Life in Verdaan stretched intolerable. The confines of the cabin already crushed.
“May I walk on deck?”
“Your veil.”
She put it on, twisting it over her nose and mouth, protection from persistent flies and the persistent gaze of men. Her brother trailed her to bow. Under moons and stars, the murky water shone a golden brown, rippling into the dark expanse of the lake. Bright Daesoa, the dreamer, hung low in the west. Could she convince the moon it was her time to walk a beam to Vae’oenka’s domain, take refuge there from the brutality which had invaded her life? Harsh Dindarin, the pragmatist, floated high above. Would He shoot a beam from His arrow to slide her to the safety of the deck? Or would He aid her flight with a stroke of His sword?
She turned from the still water, fearful Mariano would guess her intent. Ahkdul stood a few paces beyond, as rigid as the dead reeds lining the muddy banks. His mistrust congealed between them, as thick as the stench of the mire.
“Forgive me. This air is intolerable.” She retired, only to lie tossing and turning on the pallet, the pot of salve warm in her hand. Vinsant would never seek her if she were dead. Ahkdul would never raise his hand to her again. And raise hand and sword he would if she remained, for there would be no disguising the lie Arun had given about her virginity. That shame at least she could spare herself. When the ship glided and the splashes died, she rose. The door to the deck was unbarred. She padded to the port side, where the cruel waters would wrest any decision to live from her.
A plop scattered a buzzing blanket of flies. She leaned over. A dark shape broke the surface of the water and slid back into the murk. She hauled herself onto the gunwale, sat there, feet above the deck, looking down. A snout poked into the air. A clawed foot scraped along the side of the boat. She leaned a little further out. Was it providence or misfortune that the chill air had made jabberweis and crocodiles sluggish this night?
“Coward!”
Her breath sharp, she gripped the side of the boat.
“Blood on the bum of a flea on the tongue of a puffer in the mouth of a jabberwei in the jaws of a baz’waeel.” He was there before she could blink, floating midway between her and the water, insubstantial and indigo.
“Go away. Please go away.” Silence was all she desired so that she might petition Vae’oenka in her final moments.
“And leave you to sacrifice your delicious flesh to these marvellous teeth? Before you have honoured your contract?”
A head reared out of the water and snapped at the djinn. The pointed teeth closed through his translucent midriff. Rolling his eyes, the djinn flicked his wrist, setting the crystal there ablaze. The jabberwei sailed out of the water, cartwheeling out over the lake before splashing into rushes. The indigo djinn patted his muscled stomach.
“Go on, jump. You’ll be free of this miserable existence. Free of your pact.”
“Leave me so I may.” She swung her legs over the gunwale.
“No! You can’t!” The rose genie popped out of the side of the boat. She planted her hands on Kordahla’s legs as though that might keep her sitting there. Her touch was like the lightest silk.
“Oooh!” the genie squealed. The djinn had seized her, was tugging her down. Dear goddess, he was dunking her in the lake. The water roiled as scaled legs arced out, as tails rose high and slapped down. A pink arm thrashed up, then a grey one, its veins pulsing a diseased brown. A snapping jabberwei lurched from the water. Kordahla’s heart skipped a beat but the jaws clamped on thin air. A final splash set waves to lapping at the side of the ship. Red washed into the water, radiating out in the light of the moons, bringing with a shocking stab through the heart all the pain of losing Arun.
It should have been her they threw to the jabberweis. Kordahla slid further forward. She need only lean and she would fall.
The djinn appeared beside her. “Coward.”
In truth she was. Her breath was coming fast. Ripples ruffled the lake but still she sat aboard the boat. The djinn yawned, examined his nails, picked at a tooth, turned his indigo face to hers. Such crass actions were to be the last she witnessed. The vile creature smacked his lips, puckered them, planted a wet kiss upon her cheek. She shuddered.
“A parting gift,” he said, the stench of his fishy breath as revolting as the mires. “Or a promise of what might come if you stay.”
“Please leave.”
“Oh very well, my vixen fair, but promise me you will cast yourself down.”
Green Dindarin was sinking behind a wispy cloud but yellow Daesoa threw her a beam, a lifeline to the heavens. “I promise.”
He was gone.
Solitude embraced her in the muted sparkle of a moonlit night.
She leaned forward.
✽ ✽ ✽
Vinsant’s strength was seeping back, no thanks to Mahktashaan Padesh who had kept up the silent, battering drills over the last two days. At least he was able to warm himself and summon his own dinner, a leg of roast fowl he pilfered from the palace kitchens in defiance of his guide. The rule the mahktashaan must summon only from their own stores couldn’t apply to a magic-drained, star, prince of an apprentice. He would resume the boring, mine-kitchen vegetable-and-rice diet when his full strength was restored.
Stomach full and shielded warm from the strengthening
blizzard, he still could not sleep. He tossed and turned on the gravel. At this rate the bruises he had managed to fade would be bluer than ever by morning. That healing feat had sapped him too far to levitate. Arun deserved a spine-twisting stint in the deep mines for stealing more magic than he had to spare.
The minoria had been strangely unreachable across the link since his panicked grip had wrenched the strength right out of Vinsant. Under other circumstances, Vinsant would have assumed Arun was meting out a taste of the silent treatment these mahktashaan seemed to relish. The truth was there was no way the minoria would have violated the power of his quartz just to teach him a lesson.
“Psst. Hey.”
See. He was so out of it he was hearing things. He rolled over.
“Wake up!”
“Haven’t been to sleep yet,” he mumbled, and curled tighter under his thick cloak.
A snowball hit him in the face. Whoever had breached his shield was just plain rude, not to mention a show-off. He spat snow out of his mouth.
“Wake up. It’s an emergency.”
He sat up and conjured a light. In the midst of whirling flakes, the rose genie crouched on hands and knees. “No deal,” he growled, lying down and turning away.
This time the snowball hit him on the back of head. Another pelted him in the ribs and a third landed on his face.
“What?” he barked, pulling himself up. He was shivering so hard he didn’t even need to shake himself down.
A few feet away, Padesh stirred.
“Oooo.” Rosie had to be worried; her hair was falling out of its clip. She wasn’t so shimmery as he remembered either. She crept closer. “Princess Kordahla is in trouble. She’s going to throw herself to the jabberweis.”
Vinsant had his shield down and was scrambling towards Rosie before she had finished. Bad move. It was freezing. His fingers were tingling numb before he had gone three paces. “Help her.”
“She won’t deal.”
He pulled a flickering shield up between shivers and turned to Padesh. The mahktashaan was an indistinct form in the swirling blanket of white. That was one man who hadn’t proven he was worth his crystal in a sticky situation. Shoving his hands under his armpits, Vinsant reached out for Arun. Nothing. Not even a closed mind refusing contact. It was like the minoria had vanished from The Three Realms.
“What do you want?” So he was ignoring the sneaking suspicion Rosie might be playing some elaborate trick. What else was he supposed to do?
“Your sister –”
“What do you want to save my sister?”
Snowflakes landed on the Rosie’s nose, cheek and chin. “I can’t.”
He skidded his way over to her. “You wanted to deal before. Now you get to name the price.”
She shook her head. He could hear her teeth chattering. “I can’t.”
“Ar –” For all he knew Arun was dead. That left Levi. But the majoria would demand an explanation he didn’t have. And Father would find out. Somehow the shah would reach Kordahla and make her miserable life intolerable. Bracing himself, he dropped the shield so he could throw it up around the both of them. The icy blast swept away his thoughts.
“You need to be quick,” Rosie said. Her eyes were closed and she was rocking.
“Why can’t you deal with me?”
“Too sick.”
“You should fetch someone who can.”
She huddled into herself. “Who?”
That was so unexpected, his light went out. He rekindled it, and flinched. Her skin had turned a shocking dusky grey, and she looked clammy.
“Get me a genie who can help. Not the indigo dude.”
She shook her head and rubbed her left arm. It looked like a rot was spreading though her veins. “They’ll ask for your quartz. They all know he wants it.”
“So get me someone who’d rather make a different deal.”
From her pink slippers up, she dissolved into rosy smoke. It lingered far too long. And he was just standing there watching, like a stupid puffer. He had magic. A lot of magic. How could he be so helpless when it counted most? He gritted his teeth and concentrated on Levi’s black crystal. On a deep breath, he reached for a link.
A djinn popped inside his shield, athletic but not muscular like Indigo, taupe all over except for a shock of black hair. Vinsant let the link fizzle.
“Your sister’s life for that trinket you wear around your neck.” The light gleamed in the djinn’s black eyes.
“No. Ask for something else or you get nothing.”
The taupe djinn might be floating with his arms and ankles crossed but he was nowhere near so menacing a figure as Indigo. He even spoke sloppy. “Give me the quartz or your sister dies.”
Rose smoke shot into a wavering column. Vinsant edged towards it.
“Choose something else. We could both profit from this.”
The taupe djinn laughed. “What else could you offer me, boy?”
“The royal Myklaani sword. Someone might deal to get it back.”
“An object the heir has already replaced. Shall I take your manhood? Or perhaps your irksome tongue? What about your eyes? A blind mahktashaan. Master would deem it almost as effective as removing that quartz. What about it, boy? Your eyes for your sister’s life.”
“Uh. . .” Vinsant snapped his gaping mouth shut. What in The Three Realms did ‘his eyes’ mean? A pact with a djinn was never simple. Dealing for his eyes with a djinn was certain to mean a whole lot more than going blind which, by the way, scared him mute. He was running out of time but he couldn’t think so he watched the rose smoke take form. At last the genie was there. She looked terrible, huddling in on herself.
“He wants my eyes,” Vinsant blurted.
“He won’t give you those,” Rosie said, casual like, but he knew it for a warning. She struggled for breath. “You might as well deal for something he will give.” She broke off to cough. “And you’ll have to be quick. He was about to get help from the majoria before you arrived.”
If that was a hint, Vinsant was going to take it. Levi’s worst punishment would be way less severe than dealing with a djinn. The first step was to visualise Levi’s black crystal, which was easy if he looked into the djinn’s black eyes. The second was just a matter of sending his mind across the leagues.
It would have easier if the djinn didn’t snort. “Not even the majoria can work magic from that distance. This cub is about to learn the limitations of his kind.”
He was almost there. They had to stop distracting him. Both his shield and link were wavering.
“A powerful mahktashaan might, if he works with the princess.” Rosie heaved two tight breaths. “His sister has magic, you know.”
Vinsant paused. That had been no idle comment.
“Traitor,” Taupie said. “You dare to surrender a secret without a deal.”
Rosie broke into vehement protests. They ended in a fit of coughing that saw her dissolve.
Vinsant ignored his pang of guilt. The genie had given him a clue and he was going to take it. Kordahla had no crystal. He supposed he could focus on her face, her laugh, the way she wanted to hug him like he was still two years old. He was never going to admit he liked it. He visualized the maps his tutor had made him study, flying over their lines and contours until he could see every sluggish, reed-clogged bend of the broad River Bahmar. Somewhere on that murky stretch of water was a boat with her on it. His mind nudged another. It was her, he knew it.
Kordahla?
Vinsant.
A rush of his own joy and success overwhelmed him. He almost lost the link but the taste of her deep sorrow grounded him. Kordahla, don’t. Please don’t.
She cried out, sobbed. Vinsant! Help!
✽ ✽ ✽
Kordahla leaned forward. Her body was falling free of the boat when Vinsant’s voice exploded into her mind. Reflexes had her twist and grab hold of the gunwale with one hand even as she called his name. He knew. Somehow he knew. Dear Vae, he should not b
e witness to her shame. And now, hanging by one arm, hearing his voice, the soft splash of foul water beneath her, she hesitated.
Vinsant, help, she sobbed without thinking. Vae forgive her. How could she burden him with this?
Hang on. Just hang on.
Don’t. . . She closed her eyes, fought down a sob. Don’t think less of me for this.
Kordahla. I’m stuck in a snow storm all by myself, my magic isn’t working right and there’s a horrible taupe djinn who wants to deal for my eyes. I don’t want to go blind.
No, don’t deal, Vinsant.
Below her a scaled snout poked out of the water. A taupe djinn popped into the air and sat, bottom and feet flat on the wide nostrils.
The djinn rolled his eyes. “I have never met such an accomplished liar as your brother. Do jump. This chit chat is making me bored.”
“You!” The indigo djinn formed out of a hissing, chilly cloud of shimmering smoke. He floated upside down above the taupe, his muscular arms crossed, his crystals glowing. “This one is mine.”
The startled taupe djinn fell. The jabberwei snapped but its jaws closed on smoke.
Tell Indie to get lost too, Vinsant said. He was too attuned to her thoughts. I need you Kordahla. You can’t leave me to die by myself.
She reached up with her free hand.
“Uh-uh-uh,” the djinn said, arcing until he was sitting on her right hand. His weight squeezed her fingers. They started to numb beyond gripping. Just as she scratched the gunwale, he kicked her left hand away.
“Want to deal?” He offered a hand. Kordahla reached up. Her fingertips could do no more than brush his silky skin.
“Hold on!” The faint voice came from one of Daesoa’s yellow beams.
Rosie’s there, isn’t she? Vinsant said.
The rose genie slid down the moonbeam, falling to her knees above Kordahla. She gripped the moonbeam as though her life depended on it, and coughed and coughed and coughed. “You can’t,” she gasped. “You have an open pact.” She coughed again. “You’ll be his forever.”