She nods. “No. I guess not.” I know I haven’t convinced her. The rejection is still showing in her face. She curls up between Kalyka and Furian on the other side. She falls asleep almost immediately.
I catch Zivan’s eye. She is not sleeping. She is sitting, resting her legs, but her eyes are sharply aware, glittering in the reflected light of the glowworms.
“Did you hear that?”
She is dismissive. “The only important thing is to survive. You have to be able to fight. You have to be strong.”
I ask myself which woman I would rather be, Ammeline or Zivan. There is no contest. Zivan is the one to emulate. She is the one you can depend on. She is the one I want to become. I will continue with the kappaltu. I don’t want to be like Ammeline, after all.
I doze off slowly, my eyelids dropping through sheer weight. It has been a very long day. I am uncomfortable, especially with Kalyka’s head pressing on my lap, but I don’t want to move her. Tears are running down her thin cheeks, even though she is fast asleep. She is reliving the death of Fimbrian in her dreams. But, even so, she must sleep. And so must I. I drift off.
There is a heavy taste in my mouth when I wake up. I am drowsy. Something has interrupted my dreamless stupor. I struggle to a sitting position, waking Kalyka.
Zivan is shaking all of us awake. Furian’s face is worried.
I rub my eyes. “What has happened?”
“The Scoriats are here.”
“What?!” I leap to my feet, heart pounding.
Furian holds up his hand. “They are still some distance from us, but they are closing quickly on our position, so Zivan tells me.”
This can’t be happening. They will reach us before we find Kelfor. The thought gives me palpitations. Kalyka’s eyes fill with tears. “Remeny?” Her small voice is terrified.
Zivan is staring at me. I see a challenge in her steady gaze. I put my chin up. “What can we do about it?”
Zivan treats me to a small smile of approbation, which makes me feel absurdly pleased. She turns to Furian. “We must split up.”
Furian is not convinced. “We may lose each other.”
Zivan points at me. “The only one of us who really must reach Kelfor is Remeny. That is why we came. That is why so many of us have already died. Now it is our turn to protect her. If necessary, our turn to die.”
I stare.
She ignores me. “Now, we don’t know how they are tracking us. Probably by our scent. If so, water is the only thing that will slow them down. It could mask our passage. Our best chance is to find water and then split up where there will be confusion of scents and difficulty tracking any of us.”
Furian steps forward. “She is right. If ... if there is water down here.”
Zivan seems determined. She heads down the tunnel. “There might not be running water, but I sense a much higher humidity below us. Come! We must make haste now. If not, they will catch up with us within the hour.”
We hurtle down the tunnel, our feet skimming the dark rock. The cold air sears through my lungs, giving me pain, but I daren’t complain. Furian is carrying Kalyka. It must be worse for him.
Karith gives a sudden cry. She has twisted her ankle on one of the loose rocks. She swears. Linnith helps her wrap a cloth bandage tightly around the offending joint. She struggles on, cursing regularly now as the damaged leg comes onto the rock floor. It doesn’t slow her down much, at first.
Linnith has dropped back to help her mother. Zivan is in front, closely followed by Vannis. Doven and Ammeline bring up the rear. Our breath is already coming in gasps. So far, we have seen no water.
Karith manages for twenty minutes before she collapses onto the floor of the tunnel. I look; her ankle has blown up like a wineskin. She is puffing and her face is hot. “I cannot continue.”
Linnith sinks to the floor next to her mother, but Karith pushes at her. “Get up! You must go on without me!”
“I won’t leave you, Mother.”
“You will. Furian! Take her away!”
Linnith shakes off Furian’s arm. “I won’t go! No!”
Zivan has doubled back. She bends down to speak a few words with Karith and then straightens up again. “You will do no good here, Linnith. You are a speaker of the land. You will be needed if Remeny is to find Kelfor. You cannot stay with your mother. I am sorry, but you must come with us.”
Linnith is shaking. She sways.
Doven comes over and puts his arm around her. He is staring at Karith. “I will be here, Linnith,” he tells her.
We are all staring. Ammeline especially. “Doven!” she says, her tone imperious. “What are you doing? I need you!”
Doven is drying Linnith’s tears with his finger. “No. You don’t, Ammeline. You need Koban. And you have to grow up. You can’t keep trying to bind all and every man to you. Just choose one. You are not a little girl any longer.”
She is furious. “I won’t speak to you again!”
He grins. “I would appreciate that. When I am close to you I don’t particularly like myself.”
Karith leans and whispers something to Doven. He nods. He gives Karith a small supply of food and water and then pulls Linnith to her feet. She seems shell-shocked, unable to take all this in. Doven escorts her a little further along the tunnel. “We need to go. May Niyafora protect you, Karith!”
We all mumble our agreement with his sentiment. It is hard to leave Karith there behind us. She has been so strong; has led so much of our journey.
I pass her with a sob in my throat. I find I cannot say anything to her. She smiles at me, seemingly encouraging me to continue. I see in her eyes that she is happy to die so that I can reach Kelfor. I feel incredibly humble.
I pull Kalyka on, past her. We break back into a sprint again. They are gaining on us. I don’t need anybody to tell me that. I sense it; sense it with all my bones.
Karith lies in the cold passage for long minutes. She knows what is coming: the Scoriats. They will be on top of her within the hour. All she can hope to do is delay them slightly. That is her job now. Linnith will lead the others to Kelfor; her job is to try to stop the Scoriats. She expects to be shot fairly quickly. At least the end will be quick. She will be luckier than Fimbrian and Azrial were.
The sounds of feet scraping along the tunnel floor are louder than she expected. Her senses have already got used to the silence down here in the Rift of the Timeworn. She feels privileged to have reached so far. For many generations, the gifts of the speakers have been uselessly passed down from mother to daughter, yet her generation is the one that was called on by the timeworn to remember. She is the one who has led them to the south. She is happy. It was worth it.
She hears them coming. They are making no effort to hide their conversations. They are certain that they will overtake the Inmuri. There is no doubt in the clatter of sound they bring with them.
Karith shifts on the hard rock. Her ankle is very painful. She has no weapon, but she can use her own body. She shuffles until she is lying stretched out blocking the tunnel floor. She wonders how many of them she will trip. She hopes at least a couple will break something as they fall over her.
So she is very disappointed when they pull to an abrupt halt just before her position. They light an oil torch, and Karith hurriedly protects her eyes to protect them from the glare. She hears a gasp, quickly silenced.
“Who is this woman?” One of the Scoriats seems to be asking somebody.
A voice she knows answers. Koban! “This is one of the speakers of the land. She is one of their timeworn. She can take us to the place they are looking for.”
“Traitor!” she mutters, feeling the cold travel right through her body as she listens to his words. “After all we did for you!”
Koban laughs. “You were easy to confound, woman! You Inmuri are backward, good only for work in the mines or in the domes.”
“What shall we do with her?” The first man is speaking again.
“She may be of use. T
hough she will slow us down with that ankle.”
“Make the other one carry her. He can earn our leniency.”
Karith thinks she is hallucinating. The tall man who steps forward looks just like Jethran. She blinks.
The man bends down and picks her up, sweeping her into his arms. He drops a kiss onto the top of her head as he moves back behind Koban, out of the light from the harsh torch. It really is him. She clutches at him. He holds her tighter. There is no need for them to speak. She winds her hands behind his neck and lays her face on the broad shoulder under her. She closes her eyes. If he is here, all will be well.
The Scoriats are moving faster. They sense that the group of Inmuri is only a short distance ahead. They can taste the end of the chase. They will not rest now until they find them.
It is extremely hard for Jethran to keep up. His wife is a well-built woman. He stumbles frequently, particularly when pushed on from behind by one or other of the Scoriats. But he is happy. Karith is in his arms again and if Koban lives up to his word, they are now three against thirty. He waits. His turn will come. At least, so he hopes.
My lungs are burning. I can’t go on for very much longer. Each breath I take rasps in and out, hurting my throat. Furian has been obliged to put Kalyka on the ground; she is running alongside me as fast as her legs can carry her. She is still fresh. She will outrun me. I know that I am nearly done. This charade is coming to an end. I am going to die before I learn any of the answers. I feel chagrined. So close, only to fail at the finish!
Ammeline is crying. She can’t force the air down any longer either; she is in worse shape than me. Already Vannis has to carry her part of the way, like Doven carries Linnith. They cannot manage more than a few hundred steps with such loads, but it is enough. So far, the girls are keeping up. I am not even surprised to see Vannis helping Ammeline. He is Inmuri. He could hardly leave her behind.
Beside me, Kalyka trips and I manage to stop her falling. I sweep her up into my arms and carry her myself for a few dozen steps. Long enough to give her a small respite. She curls her arms around my neck in thanks. I wonder what the Scoriats will do to her. It makes me run faster. I remember the Xenokarth. It will be that or death. I am not sure which is worse. I can run more. I have to run more.
There are only eight of us left. Furian is looking at Linnith. She is the only one who knows the way. The right way. “How much further?”
She is gasping. She shakes her head. “I have no idea. All I know is the sequence of landmarks. The time between each was lost generations ago.”
Furian doesn’t like her answer. “And exactly how many landmarks are left before the caves of Kelfor?”
She pulls up for a moment, ordering her mind, counting. “Six.”
Furian’s jaw tightens. “That may be five too many.”
Doven is looking worried. “We can’t lead the Scoriats into Kelfor! Our ancestors sacrificed their whole lives to ensure they never found it! Surely we should stop?”
Linnith hesitates. I can see she agrees with him. “Should we go back?”
Furian shakes his head. “They already discovered the entrance to the Rift of the Timeworn. If any of these Scoriats get back to the Raths, this place will soon be overrun with Raths and Scoriats. They will eventually find Kelfor in any case.”
Doven grimaces. He sighs. “Is there nothing we can do?”
Ammeline pouts. “I don’t know why you assume that all Scoriats are bad. Some are great. Look at Koban! You should have let him come with us!”
“With hindsight, it might have been better. But I am not Azrial. I do not have the sight of an augur. You, Ammeline, are the one who should have inherited that.” Furian looks at his daughter. He doesn’t seem disappointed in her; he seems resigned.
She tosses her head back. “Doven! Help me over these rocks, will you?”
Doven’s lips are thinner than usual. He picks up Kalyka and pops her onto his broad shoulders. She grabs hold of his hair so as not to tipple over, grinning. Doven gazes into Ammeline’s large eyes. He shrugs, causing Kalyka to give a small shriek. “Sorry, Ammeline.”
I turn to glance at Linnith. She has a half smile on her face. She walks swiftly on before anybody else can see it. Doven was watching her too. He winks at me. I feel suddenly happy.
We struggle on, going as fast as Linnith can. She is the leader. She sets the pace. Furian and Doven take turns at helping Kalyka, while Vannis has stepped into the breach again to give Ammeline a hand. They talk together fiercely. They are not best pleased with the situation. Zivan and I bring up the rear, Zivan stopping every so often to listen behind us. There is no sign of the Scoriats. Yet.
We pass three separate forks in the tunnel. Each time, Linnith scouts around before deciding which way is the right one.
At the last one, she looks around for long minutes before turning to us, her face despondent. “I don’t know which way to take.”
“What is the sign you are looking for. The landmark?”
Linnith closes her eyes. “I cannot tell you. It is not allowed. Speakers of the land take an oath never to reveal the landmarks. They are sacred to us.”
“I just thought that if we all looked ...”
She shakes her head. “The landmark is no longer here. It is not surprising. Thousands of years have gone by since the original timeworn memorized them. Nothing stays the same forever. We expected to find some of them missing. But this ...” she points at the bifurcation beyond her, “... this was an important one. Now I don’t know which way we should go.”
Furian gives a slow nod. “Very well. We will split up. It would have been better if we had found water, but in any case, it will confuse the Scoriats. Four of us will take each tunnel. Remeny, you come with Doven, Kalyka and I. Zivan, you and Vannis can accompany Linnith and Ammeline.”
Zivan shook her head. “Where Remeny goes, I go. That was the contract.”
Furian glares. Then concedes. “Very well. We will exchange places, you and I. That leaves you, Zivan, with Doven, Kalyka and Remeny. I will accompany Ammeline, Linnith and Vannis.” He looks at the two tunnels which fork from ours. “My group will take the right-hand tunnel, yours the left.”
Linnith nods. “I should be able to find the tell at the next site for a landmark. Stop when and if you reach a cavern with many tunnels leading off it. But how will we meet back up?”
Furian purses his lips. “We don’t. Not today, at any rate. This is good strategy against the Scoriats. Hopefully they will divide their numbers too. Both of our teams should continue until they reach a position they can defend. We tackle the Scoriats. We will have time to set up a few ambushes of our own.” He catches Zivan’s eye. “Agreed?”
She nods. “Good strategy. We will come back here afterward ... those of us who can. Agreed.”
We move off as fast as we can now. It seems lonely with only three people at my side. Kalyka is running beside me, her small hand in mine. I am not very sure of our chances. I think we will be greatly outnumbered. Then I remember the teachings of kappaltu. They have a saying: “We seek not to win, but to fight well.” I will fight well. That is all I can do.
It takes us around three hours to reach a position Zivan thinks can be defended. It is the cavern Linnith told us about. I guess that means that our tunnel is the correct one.
There are no glowworms in this cave, but there are plenty in the tunnel we have just come from. We will be able to see the Scoriats coming, but they will be blind. They may smell us, but they won’t see us. The advantage will be ours. If we have to stand and fight, we won’t find a better place to do it.
Zivan unwinds a length of cordage. She cuts it into two lengths, crossing the chamber twice with it and securing one end of each cord to a large rock. She spots another huge boulder and leads Kalyka to that, tying the second ends of the lines first so that there are two ropes stretched across the cave at knee height. She lifts Kalyka on top of the rock. Then she scrambles up herself. She has spotted something. Ther
e is part of a petrified tree caught crosswise in the ceiling. She tosses a cord over that and asks me to pass her the free end. Then she picks up a long, thin piece of stone. This she fixes into the rope so that it protrudes to either side.
“Here.” She pats the improvised seat. “This is a pendulum. You swing from the rock with your legs on either side. You use your feet as weapons. If you launch from the top ledge of your boulder, you should have enough momentum to knock over a grown Scoriat. Then you can slip your legs out, swing back and settle on this lower ledge again. Do you understand?”
Kalyka’s whole face is ablaze with pride. She nods, clambers onto the stone pendulum, takes a deep breath and launches herself from the boulder.
She whistles past me and reaches the high point of her swing on the other side of the cavern. She manages to twist in mid swing and drop her hands down to the stone cross-seat to land sure-footedly back on the lower rock.
Zivan smiles broadly. “That is your job. You wait. Don’t waste the surprise value your attack will have. You try to hit one of the Scoriats with both heels. Hopefully Doven ...” she looks meaningfully at him, “... will be able to take over from there.”
Kalyka jumps up and down on her rock. “What then? What then?”
“Then you climb back up on top of that boulder and stay out of the way. Can you manage it?”
“I think so. If you tie another rope around the swinging one, then I couldn’t lose it.”
Zivan looks at me. She wants to protect Kalyka, but realizes that we might not be able to. She gives a nod. “Very well. We will tie a loose rope around your waist so you can retrieve the pendulum if you need to.”
Kalyka is so pleased her eyes are popping out of her face. “I won’t let you down. I promise!”
I give her a kiss. “I know you won’t. Good luck, poppet.”
“Good luck, Remeny!”
Kelfor- the Orthomancers Page 19