Even so, Ella had revelled in her new-found freedom.
Alturans weren't the greatest sailors, but Ella's people knew the river, and she was familiar with boats. As a Petryan, the only water Shani had seen was the boiling Lake Halapusa surrounding the tiered city, the Petryan capital of Tlaxor. But the worst-affected by the journey was Jehral, a desert warrior born and bred. The proud leader of fierce horsemen couldn't keep his food down, and the swarthy skin of his face had turned a sickly green.
"Please, come down with me," Jehral shouted into Ella's face. The sail snapped with a gust, and he looked up with fear as the mizzen-mast creaked alarmingly.
"It's actually better for your seasickness up here," Ella shouted back. "Ask him." She pointed at the helmsman, a bearded Castlemere native standing at the wheel a dozen paces away, not the friendliest man Ella had met. "Keep your eyes on the horizon, and stand where the ship rolls the least, that's the key."
"Come down!" Jehral cried.
"Not until you tell me where we're going."
"We're going to see Prince Ilathor," Jehral said.
"I know that! Where are we going?"
"We're going to the Hazara Desert. We're travelling south and east, and then we'll find a river mouth, hidden by the cliffs. The river will take us to Agira Lahsa, the hidden city."
Ella drew back in surprise. "Your people have a city? I thought you lived in tents, and that you loved the freedom to roam the desert."
"All great civilisations have cities," Jehral said. "When our lore was lost, when the knowledge faded away, Agira Lahsa was abandoned. Prince Ilathor's father, the Kalif, is rebuilding the city. We are a house now, Raj Hazara, and we have you to thank for it, Enchantress Ella."
"Then give me my dress back, and talk to me again as my friend, Jehral."
"We shall see," Jehral said, his voice clear against a momentary lull in the storm. "We shall see."
~
THE storm passed, and the ship's motion subsided as the waves grew smaller and she made speed with a brisk wind behind her.
Ella spent much of her time on deck, sometimes on her own, other times talking with Jehral about life in the desert, or Shani about the terrible things that happened in Petrya under the rule of their High Lord, Haptut Alwar.
In the absence of their tools, Ella and Shani had initially shared their knowledge of enchantment and elementalism in hushed tones at night. Finally they began to share their more private selves.
Petryans were fiercely competitive, and Shani had needed to completely devote herself to her calling. After initial training, the competition had become stronger, even dangerous, as one budding elementalist was pitted against another. Shani didn't speak too much of this period, but her shadowed eyes said enough.
There was no turning back, no way to escape the training except with two red cuffs and mastery of the elements. Shani had no time for love; in fact, she had never been with a man, something Ella would never have guessed from the shapely woman's world-wise demeanour.
Shani had transferred all of her love to her nephew, Sendak. He was a sturdy boy of fifteen years, brave and strong, skilled at contests and holding his own in the boys' rough fights after temple school.
Sendak and his Aunt Shani would stand on the shores of Lake Halapusa, looking away from the tiered city and skipping stones across the water. Sendak would ask Shani whether she thought he should become a warrior or an elementalist, and Shani would tell him that only he could decide. Secretly Shani had hoped that if he really wanted to be a fighter he would follow in her footsteps, rather than those of his father, but she always did her best to let Sendak be the one who would decide for himself. On the day her nephew told her that he had decided, and he wanted to be just like her, Shani nearly cried.
Then came the war. One day Petrya was at peace, the next the marshals were rallying the soldiers. The teardrop and flame raj hada of Petrya was raised from every tower, and anti-Alturan rhymes were heard on the gleeful children's lips. Some questioned why they were fighting, but High Lord Haptut Alwar ruled his people with strength and terror, and where he led, they would follow.
Prices in Tlaxor immediately began to rise. It was difficult enough to bring goods over Lake Halapusa to the tiered city — the Halapusa Ferry could only carry so much. One silver deen bought only half of what it had days before.