Meanwhile Zariya’s screams continued unabated. Outside I heard racing footsteps approaching, so swift it could only be Lirios. He burst through the door of the hut, his wings vibrating, his blade drawn.
“Zariya, my queen!” His voice was frantic. “By all the fallen stars, what are they doing to her?”
I sheathed my own weapons and wrestled him out the door. Zariya would not want him to see her thus. “It is the healing process,” I said to him. “We were warned it would be terribly painful.”
The others came at a run. “This sounds like no healing I have ever encountered,” Jahno said grimly, and the Elehuddin whistled in concerned agreement. “Are you sure of this, shadow?”
I was sure of nothing except that my entire body was rigid with sympathy and terror; but what could I do if this were a terrible mistake? Cut the creature from Zariya’s poor anguished body? It would kill her. “No,” I whispered. “But I fear that there is no way to halt the process once it has begun.”
Essee gave a sober trill, signing, Then we will wait and pray.
There was nothing else any of us could do. Around the village, the Papa-ka-hondrans went about their business, chatting and weaving and gathering fruit, as though it were of no interest that my soul’s twin was lying in a hut screaming in agony. I did not know whether to draw reassurance from their lack of concern or conclude that there was something subtly monstrous about these strange, isolated folk.
Both, perhaps.
I returned to the hut to bear vigil. Zariya thrashed and convulsed and screamed, her skin and hair soaked with sweat, insensible to anything but the agonizing process of the creature inching its way through her body. If she’d been wearing a gown, it would have been rent to pieces. Her eyelids fluttered, showing the whites of her eyes. Yaruna and Shulah tended her as best they could, laying damp cloths on her brow that were thrown off seconds later by the next seizure. As the hours passed, her screams grew hoarse, dwindling to moans; bit by bit, the convulsions weakened as she sank into an unconscious state.
“What’s happening?” I asked the healers in a fever of anxiety. “Is this good or bad? Is it almost over? Is she dying?”
The Green Mother held up one finger, gazing intently at Zariya’s limp, twitching figure. “Watch.”
The intricate traceries of red marks that adorned Zariya’s right hand, the hand that had received Anamuht’s blessing, began to shine with a faint golden light, tendrils creeping up her wrist and forearm.
“Now,” Yaruna said to her apprentice. Between the two of them, they levered Zariya into an upright sitting position. Shulah pried her mouth open to pour some concoction from a hollow gourd into it. Zariya’s eyes opened, looking blind and unfocused, but she swallowed obediently. Yaruna shook her shoulders. “Now you must allow the creature to pass from your body, sun’s child. Do you understand?”
Zariya’s lips moved in a silent yes.
A clean pot had been placed beneath the privy hole; the Papa-ka-hondran healers slung Zariya’s arms over their shoulders and hauled her to it, supporting her as she squatted over it, her head hanging low. Sweat-drenched braids fell over her brow, half-undone and snarled. I heard the faint plink as the crawling, sparking centipede exited her body and fell into the clay pot below.
I stood uncertainly.
With an effort, Zariya lifted her head and met my gaze. Her lips formed a rueful smile; she tested her voice, paused, and tried again. “Forgive me, my dearest,” she rasped. “I did not mean to subject you to such indelicacy. Thank you for not killing anyone.”
Alive.
My soul’s twin, my lion-hearted princess, was alive and whole and herself, no matter how damaged. My legs gave way beneath me, my weapons clattering as I sank to my knees. Unsure whether to laugh or weep or give thanks to the children of heaven, I did all three.
The Papa-ka-hondran healers helped Zariya back to the platform. She sat with her head hanging low, bare legs dangling.
I rose and approached her. “How do you feel?”
Her head lolled. “Rather like I’ve been tortured in my father’s dungeon,” she mused. “Perhaps that’s apt.”
“You should rest now,” the Green Mother advised her. “Sleep and allow your body to heal.”
“No.” There were bruised hollows beneath her eyes and she couldn’t raise her voice above a hoarse whisper, but there was steel in it. “Not yet. Khai, bring me my gown and canes and fetch the rhamanthus.”
The Green Mother and her apprentice were silent as I eased Zariya’s gown over her head, the scarlet and gold silk snagged and shredded by the forest, and helped her down from the platform. I was not sure at first if she would be able to walk unaided, but sheer determination impelled her to do so, leaning on her canes as she dragged herself forward step by step.
Outside the hut, our company was waiting, faces filled with a mixture of dread and hope. Lirios cried aloud for joy at the sight of Zariya, and Jahno and the Elehuddin offered heartfelt salutes.
But Zariya was not finished. “A single seed, if you please, my darling,” she murmured, gathering her canes in her left hand and holding out the other.
I fished in the pouch and placed a glowing crimson rhamanthus seed in the palm of her right hand.
Zariya closed her fist around it, and the now-golden traceries on her skin blazed into brilliant light, evoking soft gasps of awe. Her lips moved in a silent prayer as she raised her hand overhead, her gaze following it, swaying with the effort of remaining upright.
I held my breath.
Zariya opened her clenched fist and blue-white lightning leapt from her palm, forking and crackling in the sky above her, drenching our surroundings in a sudden shock of white light.
The spent seed fell to earth, dull and lifeless. I let out my breath in a fierce shout of triumph.
It had worked.
FORTY-EIGHT
Afterward, Zariya did sleep, profoundly exhausted by her ordeal, lying curled on the floor of the big lodge with her head pillowed in my lap. While she slept, I did my best to pick out her tangled braids. Some of them, I thought, would have to be cut loose, but it could wait for Evene’s touch.
Honor beyond honor.
Never before had Zariya been more precious to me. With her screams of agony yet echoing in my ears, my heart ached at the thought that I could have lost her in this place; and while she slept, a simple realization settled into my bones.
I loved her.
I truly did love her with all my heart and soul; not just as Sun-Blessed and shadow, but in all the ways that one person could love another. I was a fool not to have realized it sooner, blinded by my own sense of duty.
“She has great strength of will,” the Green Mother observed.
“Yes,” I said. The weight of Zariya’s head cradled in my lap filled me with tenderness. I stroked her tangled, sweat-soaked braids with my fingertips, regarding the Green Mother. “You don’t like us very much, do you?”
“I do not like you.” The lips of her muzzle drew back, revealing broad, worn teeth. “Killer of men! Your weapons stink of old blood. We do not even have a word in our tongue for what you are.”
I leaned my head against a lodge post. It was true. I was a killer; but it was the destiny to which I had been born. “Fair enough. But I, too, am as Zar the Sun made me; Zar and Pahrkun the Scouring Wind.”
Yaruna gave me a grudging nod. “As it seems the world has need of you, I will pray for your survival.”
We passed another night among the Papa-ka-hondrans. At daybreak, Onditu and the other scouts escorted us through the forest, skirting all the pitfalls it had to offer, the great cats pacing alongside them. I supposed we ought to be grateful for their aid, for we would surely have lost more of our company without it; and yet I could not quite bring myself to feel thankful. Still, such was our speed under their guidance that it meant that we need not spend the night beneath the canopy, and for that, at least, I was glad.
I do not know how much of the journey Zariya
was aware of, for her attention was turned inward, her body yet healing from the internal violence wrought upon it. Despite the jarring nature of her mode of transport, at times she dozed in her sling. Whenever I took a turn on the poles—my skills in the vanguard of our company no longer paramount—she woke long enough to summon a smile.
We reached the beach before nightfall, and there, alas, two pieces of unhappy news awaited us.
“Gods be thanked!” Evene gasped at our arrival, scarce taking notice of the Papa-ka-hondrans. “Oh! It seems a lifetime since you left.”
Jahno glanced around. “Where’s Tiiklit?”
“Gone,” Tarrok said in a sober tone. “Yesterday afternoon he went in search of firewood. We never even saw what took him.”
One of the great cats purred. Sitting on its haunches, it licked one paw and flicked it deliberately over an ear.
I really, really did not like this place.
The Elehuddin keened in grief, and Evene surveyed our company. “Where’s Keeik?”
“Also gone,” Jahno said in a bleak voice. “We will speak of it later.” He pointed toward the northern horizon. Beyond the circle of death-bladders that ringed the island, the surface of the sea was black and swarming. “What passes there?”
“Ah, well.” Tarrok shrugged his broad shoulders in a defeated gesture. “It seems that the children of Miasmus have found us.”
Kooie gave a sharp whistle; the heads of Eeeio and Aiiiaii surfaced amid the floating death-bladders, trilling in response. The sea-wyrms sounded frightened, which was enough to make all of us anxious. He reported and Jahno translated. “They are afraid of the spiders, for they do not know if they are vulnerable to them. But it appears that the stinging bladders are not. The spiders are loath to venture into their midst and are content to wait for us to depart. Is there yet an open passage to the east or west?” he added. Kooie relayed the question and response, and Jahno looked unhappy. “They say the island is encircled. The spiders have been coming and coming since yesterday. Perhaps our guides wish to return to their village in haste?” he suggested, looking around again. “I do not know if the spiders will seek to penetrate the forest, but … where are our guides?”
We were alone on the barren beach. Our guides and their feline companions, it transpired, had vanished back into the forest without a word of farewell.
“The Papa-ka-hondrans have fulfilled their duty,” Zariya said hoarsely, easing herself out of the sling. “If we are able to depart, I suspect the children of Miasmus will follow and leave the isle in peace for now.” Her gaze settled on Evene. “You said you could have managed to part the death-bladders, my darling. Could you do the same for the spiders?” She looked tired, but alert. “I will aid you as best I can.”
“You will aid me…” Evene’s voice trailed off. “By all the fallen stars! When I saw you in the sling, I thought surely our quest had failed.” She looked uncertainly at Zariya’s canes. “But you found healing among the Papa-ka-hondrans?”
“I found an ordeal hideous beyond the telling. But yes, although my legs remain as they were, the necessary damage elsewhere was undone.” Zariya raised her gold-traced right hand, flexing her fingers. “I can wield the rhamanthus.”
“She can summon lightning!” Lirios added in awe, his translucent wings shivering with delight.
“Though we do not know how much that will avail us against thousands and thousands of the creatures,” Jahno cautioned us. “Nor if it is the true purpose of the rhamanthus. So it falls to you, Opener of Ways.”
Out in the ocean, Eeeio gave an urgent trill, his immense head and sinuous neck silhouetted against the sky’s fading glow.
“The wyrms do not think we should wait until dawn,” Jahno said reluctantly. “Too many spiders are coming.”
“You want us to attempt this in the dark?” Evene looked aghast.
I pointed toward the west. “Nim is rising and more than halfway full. There will be light.”
“Not enough,” she said in a panic, wrapping her arms around herself. “I cannot do it in the dark! Seeker, please do not make me.”
“No one will force this upon you,” Jahno assured her. “If we leave at first light, do you think you might manage it?”
“I will stun them for you,” Tarrok added, laying one hand on Evene’s shoulder.
She hesitated, then nodded. “I will do my best.”
It was another long, terrible night. We slept in shifts, or at least attempted to do so, nerves wound taut. Eeeio and Aiiiaii slept not at all, patrolling the border of death-bladders with fearful vigilance, eyes gleaming under the influence of ooalu moth cocoons.
In the grey light before dawn, we waited for the tide to rise high enough to allow the sea-wyrms to swim close enough to shore to haul our ship back out to sea. Jahno and the Elehuddin busied themselves with switching the tow-lines from the prow to the stern of the ship.
Quiet waves lapped on the shore.
Death-bladders drifted.
Beyond the living barricade they formed, an enormous, shapeless army of the children of Miasmus awaited us. Evene paced back and forth along the shore of Papa-ka-hondras, arms crossed to grip her tattooed biceps so hard her knuckles paled, shivering at the prospect of what was to come. At a significant nod from Zariya, I fell in beside her, joining her as she paced.
“Shadow.” Evene glanced at me. “I am afraid of failing.”
“I know.”
“I was not raised to be a hero.”
“I know.”
She grimaced. “Tell me I can do this. Lie if you must.”
I caught her arm, halting her. “I do not need to lie. You can do this, Evene. You will do this. We will do this together.”
“I pray you’re right,” she said.
The sea-wyrms eased the ship along the trench to the edge of the shore. Once we had boarded it, they towed it backward into the water until it was floating freely. The Elehuddin returned the tow-lines to the ship’s prow and Eeeio and Aiiiaii took up their bits, great bodies undulating through the water.
I brought up the coffer of rhamanthus seeds and unlocked it. We gathered in the fore of the ship, and under the gilded rays of the rising sun, as far as the eye could see before us, the sea beyond the barricade was black, its surface surging and roiling with thousands upon thousands of the children of Miasmus.
“Eeeio will ask the bladders to move,” Jahno murmured to Tarrok. “Send your voice as narrow and deep as you may, Brother Thunderclap.”
The tall man nodded in understanding, his chest swelling as he drew an impossibly long breath, bringing his cupped hands to his mouth. At Eeeio’s muffled trill, the death-bladders moved to the east and west, opening a passage onto the black sea. A river of sea-spiders flowed toward us into the opening, and we covered our ears.
Tarrok hurled his ear-splitting shout into the midst of the children of Miasmus like a man casting a spear. The river ceased to flow, stunned sea-spiders adrift on the waves; but it would not last long, for already the seas on either side of the path of his thunderclap were crawling.
“Evene, now!” Jahno cried.
Evene pressed her palms together so hard that her hands shook; her entire body trembled with the effort of opening them, the muscles of her upper arms taut and straining. Zariya plucked a rhamanthus seed from the coffer I held, the tendrils of gold lacing her hand coming ablaze with light.
Slowly, slowly, Evene’s palms opened and the tide of sea-spiders before us parted. Needing no encouragement, the wyrms leapt forward and the ship began jouncing over the narrow path.
A strident and panicked whistle came from Tliksee, stationed in the stern of the ship.
“They’re closing behind us!” Jahno shouted.
Turning pale, Zariya slung her arm around my neck. “Get me there, my darling. Fast!”
I shoved the coffer at Jahno. “Bring the seeds!” He scrambled ahead of me as I slid my arm around Zariya’s waist and hauled her the length of the ship, her feet dragging behi
nd her.
There were sea-spiders crawling over the railing. Lirios was whirling like a dervish, his blade a blur.
“Stand back!” Zariya cried, her clenched right hand aloft as I held her upright. Lightning forked from her fist as she opened her hand, nearly scorching the mayfly’s wings as it passed. The black sea behind us sparked and sizzled, but there were more sea-spiders coming and Zariya dared not set the very ship afire. One fell to the planks and Tliksee made an instinctive move to stamp on it with his bare foot.
“No!” Lirios shouldered him out of the way, stabbing it with his blade and flinging it overboard. “Do not let them touch your flesh! Khai! Help me!”
With a sharp, commanding trill, Essee came to take my place, supporting Zariya as she plucked another seed from the coffer Jahno held out for her.
I drew my weapons and plunged into the fray.
I do not know how long it took us to traverse the narrow path that Evene held open for us, only that it felt like an eternity. Lirios took the starboard side of the stern and I took the port, hacking and slashing and stabbing at the crawling things, the Elehuddin doing their best to aid us with the squirming and still-dangerous remains, while blue-white lightning crackled over our heads, leaving a growing trail of dead, charred sea-spiders in our wake.
At last we broke into open water.
Nothing had ever looked so sweet to me as the sight of that black tide receding behind us. Kooie stabbed one last wriggling remnant of a sea-spider with his belt-knife and flicked it away with a contemptuous whistle. In the prow of the ship, Evene let her hands fall and slumped to the deck in boneless exhaustion, resting her brow on her knees. The rest of us examined ourselves and each other; miraculously, we had suffered no further casualties in our escape from Papa-ka-hondras.
“Whither now, Seeker?” Tarrok asked Jahno in a deep, calm voice.
Zar the Sun was not so very far above the horizon; it had taken a great deal less time than it seemed to effect our escape.
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