Last of the Wilds

13



The two veez circled each other slowly, their tails twitching. Auraya sighed and shook her head.

“They’ve forgotten they’ve grown up.”

Mairae laughed. “Yes—they’re like a pair of children who can only relate by wrestling with and insulting each other.”

Stardust leapt on top of Mischief, and all detail was lost as the two became a blur of rolling, twisting fur, legs and tail.

Mairae chuckled. “How is Mischief’s training going?”

“Well.” Auraya grimaced. “There’s not a mechanical lock that he can’t open, and he’s become much easier to link with now that he’s matured a bit and I can actually hold his attention for more than a few moments. He speaks into my mind now, too.”

The two veez separated. They stood apart and chattered at each other, then simultaneously affected boredom and began washing themselves.

“Have you met Keerim?” Mairae asked.

“No.”

“He’s a famous veez trainer, visiting from Somrey. Not bad-looking, too. You should arrange t—”

:Auraya.

The call was from Juran.

:Yes?

:The gods have called us to the Altar. Is Mairae with you?

:Yes. I will tell her.

:Good. I will collect you both on the way down.

Mairae was regarding her expectantly.

“What is it?”

Auraya rose. “We’ve been called to the Altar.”

“The Altar?” Mairae’s eyebrows rose. She stood and scooped Stardust off the floor. “How unusual. I wonder if the gods have an answer for us.”

“On the existence of Pentadrian gods?” Auraya tried to pick up Mischief, but he darted away. She moved to the bell rope and pulled it. There was no time for chasing veez. A servant would have to take care of him.

They left the room, entering the circular staircase at the center of the Tower. Auraya heard Mischief speak her name telepathically, somehow managing to convey immense disappointment at her leaving so abruptly. Mairae put Stardust down.

“Go home,” she ordered. The veez scampered down the stairs. “Good girl.” Mairae straightened and looked up the stairwell.

“The cage is already descending.”

“Yes. Juran said he would collect us on the way past.”

They watched the base of the cage slowly drop toward them. As it drew level with their eyes it slowed. Dyara and Juran stood inside. When the cage stopped, Juran opened the door and stepped aside to let them in.

His expression was serious and perhaps a little pensive, but he managed a small smile. “No, I do not know why the gods have called us,” he said before either of them could ask. “Let us hope it is good news.”

Dyara looked at him and lifted an eyebrow. “We would hardly be hoping for bad news now, would we?”

The White leader chuckled. “No.”

The cage began descending again. As it passed Rian’s rooms, Mairae looked at Juran questioningly.

“Rian was in the city. He’ll meet us at the Altar,” Juran explained. He looked at Auraya. “How is the hospice faring?”

She nodded. “Remarkably well. There have been a few differences of opinion, but that’s to be expected. Our methods aren’t going to be the same.” She paused, wondering if that was the sort of information he really wanted. “We are learning much from the Dreamweavers,” she added.

“And they from us?”

“Occasionally.”

“Are the Dreamweavers holding back knowledge?” Dyara asked.

“Not yet,” Auraya replied.

“I’m surprised,” the woman said. “Who’d have thought they’d entrust their secrets to priests?”

“They’ve never considered their knowledge to be secret,” Auraya told her. “That would give them a reason to withhold healing, which is against their principles. They never deny anyone aid.”

“An admirable principle,” Juran said. “One I think we should consider adopting.”

Dyara turned to stare at him in surprise.

“Even if it meant healing Pentadrians?”

Juran smiled wryly. “It is possible that superior healing skills would help us win the favor of people of the southern continent one day.”

The cage began to slow. “Not if their gods are real,” Auraya pointed out.

“No,” Juran agreed.

The cage stopped at the center of the hall.

“Then having plenty of skilled Circlian healers will be even more important,” Juran replied. “We can’t rely on a heathen cult to treat our wounded, no matter how skilled it is. Doing so would give them more influence than I would like them to have.”

He led them out of the cage. Auraya considered his words. He obviously expected Dreamweavers to still exist in a century—not to fade away once their main advantage over Circlians had been taken away. Perhaps his reasons for asking her to start the hospice were a little different from what she’d assumed.

Juran reached the entrance of the Tower and led them out into bright sunlight. A covered platten had just pulled up outside the Dome. Rian stepped out and signalled to the driver to move away, then he turned to wait for them. As Auraya drew closer, she saw that his eyes were aglow with religious fervor. He said nothing as they reached him, just fell into step as they strode under the arches of the Dome.

After the bright sunlight the shade within the Dome was a relief. Auraya’s eyes adjusted to the softer light and she saw the five triangular sides of the Altar opening. Juran led them across the building to the dais, then up into the Altar. As soon as all had taken their seats the points began to hinge upward again.

Juran paused, as he always did, to consider what he was going to say. But as he drew breath to speak, Auraya felt a movement nearby. Suddenly she was aware of the magic in the world around her, and that magic rippled and thrummed with a presence. She turned to face it.

“Chaia, Huan, Lore, Yranna, Saru,” Juran began. “We—”

Auraya gasped as she realized what she was sensing was a god.

:Hello, Auraya.

A glow began to form in one of the corners of the Altar. Slowly it took on the form of a man. Auraya heard Juran take in a breath and the others make small noises of surprise.

“Chaia,” Juran said, beginning to rise.

:Stay, Chaia said, raising a hand to halt Juran’s movement.

Auraya felt the world around her vibrating with the arrival of the rest of the gods. She watched in awe as each became visible as a light that took on human form.

:We have called you here to tell you the result of our search, Chaia told them. He turned to regard Huan.

:We searched throughout Southern and Northern Ithania, Huan said, but did not encounter other gods.

:That does not mean they do not exist, Lore warned. They may have evaded us. They may exist beyond those territories.

:We will continue our search, Yranna assured them, smiling. But it is best you do not leave Ithania all at once.

:That would leave you unprotected, should these gods exist and seek to do you harm, Saru added.

Juran nodded. “Is there anything we can do to help?”

:No, Chaia replied. I do not expect a confrontation with the Pentadrians for now.

“We understand,” Juran replied.

Chaia glanced at his fellow gods again, then nodded.

:That is all. We will speak to you again when we have more answers.

The five glowing figures vanished.

But they did not fade from Auraya’s senses. She felt Huan, Lore, Yranna and Saru drift away. When they had gone she felt the lightest touch of Chaia’s mind before he, too, moved away.

“Auraya?”

She jumped and found Juran staring at her. “What is it?” he asked.

“The gods. I felt them arrive and leave.”

His eyebrows rose. “Felt them?”

“Yes. It was… strange.”

“Has this happened before?” Dyara asked.

Auraya shook her head. “It is a bit like this sense I have of my position in relation to the world. I can sense the magic around me.”

“And the gods are beings of magic,” Mairae said, nodding.

“Yes.”

The points of the Altar were hinging down toward the ground, but none of the others had begun to rise. Juran looked thoughtful and Dyara skeptical. Rian was scowling. As Auraya met his eyes his frown disappeared and he smiled—but it was forced.

“I am starting to expect these strange developments of yours, Auraya,” Juran said. He chuckled. “As soon as you work out what this one means, let me know. For now,” he glanced at each of the others, then stood up, “I suggest we return to our duties.”

Auraya rose with the others, but hung back as they filed down the Altar points to the dome floor. She glanced back and concentrated, but sensed nothing disturbing the magic within the Altar.

There were small fluctuations in the distribution of it around her, however. Turning away, she kept her mind on the magic around her as she followed her fellow White back to the Tower. She noticed that the variations in magic were more pronounced at its base. Dyara and Juran began discussing Genrian politics, but Auraya was too engrossed in what she was sensing to pay any attention.

They reached the Tower and moved inside. The fluctuations did not lessen or grow stronger, and she was about to bring her attention back to her companions when she sensed a sudden change.

They had reached the cage at the center of the hall. In this place magic was considerably diminished. She would not have noticed it, even if she had drawn magic to herself, as there was enough about to make most Gifts possible.

But it was definitely spread a little thin.

What caused this? she wondered. Did someone use up most of the magic here or is it a natural occurrence?

She opened her mouth to tell Juran, but caught Rian watching her. He gave her another forced smile.

I’ll tell Juran another time, she thought. In private.


Two giant elongated bowls bobbed in the water. They were made of wood, and it looked like tree trunks had been stripped of their branches and bark and set upright within the bowls. From the trunks hung a multitude of ropes, more beams of wood and what looked like large bundles of cloth.

“They’re ships, aren’t they?” Imi asked. “Father described them to me.”

Rissi gave her an odd look. “Boats. You’ve never seen boats or ships before, have you?”

“No.”

“If that’s where the sea bells are then the landwalkers have got to them first,” Rissi said, his disappointment obvious.

“That depends.”

“On what?” He turned to frown at her.

“If they’ve got them all yet. They wouldn’t still be here if they had, would they?”

Rissi looked thoughtful, but then he frowned and shook his head. “What are you saying? We sneak up and take a few? What if they see us? They’ll kill us.”

“Then we make sure they don’t see us.”

“But—”

She ducked under the surface and swam toward a rock that was closer to the boats. Coming up behind it, she carefully peered around at the landwalkers.

They were easier to see now. She watched them walking back and forth on what must be a flat floor just inside the bowl part of the boat. Ropes hung into the water.

She saw movement in the water—a landwalker’s head. He floated beside the boat and she heard a distant guttural voice. One of the landwalkers in the boat reached down. The swimmer held up a bag, which the other man hauled up to the deck. The light brown skin of the diver’s back disappeared as he dove beneath the water.

Rissi surfaced beside her.

“The sea bells must be there,” she told him. “They’re diving for them.”

“Which means we can’t sneak up on them,” he told her.

“Not now,” she said. “But they’ve got to stop some time. I’ve heard landwalkers can’t spend long in the water, or their skin goes bad.”

The landwalker’s head reappeared. He floated only a moment before diving again.

“They can’t hold their breath long, either,” Rissi murmured. “Although we can’t stay here long. It’ll take us hours to get back and I don’t want to swim in the dark.”

“The dark… we could wait until night then sneak up while they’re asleep,” Imi said, speaking her thoughts aloud.

“No! I’m in enough trouble already! If I’m not back by tonight my father won’t take me out with him ever again.”

She looked at Rissi, but decided taunting him about being scared of punishment wouldn’t change his mind. He was beyond bravado now.

Turning to regard the boat, she saw the swimmer climb wearily out of the water and another dive in to replace him. They were diving in shifts. There was no chance they’d take a rest and give her an opportunity to sneak in and take a few sea bells.

A splash near the boat drew the landwalkers’ attention. One pointed, and Imi saw a large arrow bird surface, a fish struggling in its beak. The bird tossed down its catch, then launched itself back into the air.

“A distraction,” she said. “We need to distract them.”

Rissi frowned. “How?”

“I don’t know. Got any ideas?”

He looked at the boats. “Do you think they’ve seen Elai before?”

“Probably not.”

“You could distract them while I get the sea bells.”

“Me? No. This was my idea. You distract them while I get the sea bells.”

“That’s not fair. What if they’ve got…”

“What?”

“Spears or something.”

She gave him a measured look. “So it’s better that they spear me than you?”

He grimaced. “I didn’t mean that. But it is a danger.”

“Then… we give them something else to aim at. I know! I just thought of it. Something that will not only get them to look, but make the divers get out of the water too.”

“What?”

“A flarke.”

He paled at the mention of the fierce sea predator. “How are we going to find one of them and persuade it to eat them and not us?”

She laughed. “We don’t have to. I’ve seen the singers’ flarke costumes up close. They’re made from spikemat spines. We’ll find a big one and break off a few spines. Then we’ll tie them to your back. You swim around like a flarke—far enough away that their arrows can’t reach you. The landwalkers will be too scared to get into the water.”

He was silent and she could tell that he was impressed. After a moment he gave her a big grin.

“Yes. That would be fun.”

“Let’s find us some spikemat fish,” she said, and, not waiting to see if he followed, dove under the water.

Spikemat fish were common in every reef. It took them moments to find one with spines as big as a flarke’s. Breaking them off was not easy, and she felt sorry for the creature as it slowly crawled away from them, bleeding from where they had ripped out the spines. The spines would grow back eventually, however.

She had expected that attaching the spines to Rissi’s back would be the hard part, but he solved the problem by cutting himself a strip of wide leathery sea grass and making it into a vest shape. He drilled holes through the base of each spine with his knife, then pushed the spines through the back of the vest and secured them with another thinner spine threaded through the holes.

Out of sight of the boats, Rissi practiced swimming up and diving down again so that only the spines broke the surface.

“You’re kicking your feet up out of the water,” Imi told him.

“If I keep them together, it’ll look like a tail fin,” he replied, grinning.

“Flarke fins go sideways, not up and down.”

His face fell. “Oh. Yes. That’s right. I’ll keep my feet down then.”

“Are you ready?”

He shrugged. “Are you?”

She nodded. “Yes!”

“Let’s go then—and be quick. Who knows how long they’ll believe this for.”

They swam back to the boulder and watched the landwalkers long enough to be sure they knew where each was. She looked at Rissi expectantly. He stared back at her, then nodded. Without a word, he sank under the water.

Her heartbeat began to quicken as she watched for him surfacing again. When the spines finally rose out of the water she held her breath and looked to see if the landwalkers had noticed.

They were all hard at work.

The spines broke the surface again, but still the landwalkers didn’t notice. Rissi moved back and forth, sometimes slowly, sometimes diving under the surface abruptly. Imi realized he had probably seen a flarke before and was mimicking its behavior.

A shout drew her attention back to the landwalkers. They had finally noticed the spines. She grinned as they stopped working and milled anxiously about in the boat. One pounded on the outside of the boat with a hard object. She could hear the dull sound of it. A head appeared beside the boat and she felt a surge of triumph as the swimmer hastily climbed aboard.

My turn, she thought.

Taking a deep breath, she dove under and swam hard in the direction of the boats. Her heart was pounding with excitement, fear and exertion by the time she saw the elongated shadows above her.

Looking down, she almost let her breath out in amazement.

Her father had once taken her outside the city to show her a forest. She had looked up into a tangle of branches and leaves. It was a sight she had never forgotten. Now, gazing down at the branches of the sea-bell plants swaying gently in the sea current, she knew what it was like to look down on a forest from above.

It was also like looking at the night sky. Growing from every twig and stem were faint pinpoints of light. Swimming closer, she realized that these were the sea bells. Each was filled with tiny grains of brightness.

She hadn’t known that they glowed. As she reached the swaying strands and their burdens of light, she stretched out and touched one. It was surprisingly soft—nothing like the hard translucent bells she had seen before. She took the knife Rissi had loaned her and carefully cut through the stem.

As soon as the bell was severed from the stem, the light died. She felt a pang of guilt and sadness. It seemed a shame to disturb the plants. They were so pretty.

She then thought of her father and all that she had gone through to get here. She began cutting more bells. While Rissi had been making his flarke costume she had made a rough bag out of another leaf of sea grass curled into a cone and pinned with short lengths of spine. She put the bells in this.

A splash above her drew her attention upward. She saw a silhouette of a landwalker and her heart stopped.

The diver’s back!

She held the bag closed with one hand and dashed away.

They must have worked out they were being tricked! Or maybe the costume started falling apart. Or—

Something pressed into her face. It slid across her skin, enveloping her before she could react. Rope. Fine rope woven into a net. She threw out her arms but felt the net curl around them.

Don’t panic! she told herself. Now that she was caught she was conscious of the growing need for air. She had heard stories of Elai that had drowned, tangled in landwalkers’ nets, but also others of how people had freed themselves. She knew if she thrashed about, she’d only become more tangled. I must stay calm and work my way free.

Looking at the net, she saw that the spaces in the weave were wide enough that most fish could swim through. It extended to either side in a curve that suggested it surrounded the sea-bell plants. What that implied set her heart racing again. Had these landwalkers put it there to keep off predators, or Elai?

She did not want to find out. In one hand she held the bag of sea bells. In the other she held Rissi’s knife. She needed both hands to cut through the net. Holding the bag in her mouth, she sawed at the net until she had made a hole big enough for the bag. She pushed it through and let it go. It slowly sank to the sandy bottom.

Now she began to cut her arms free. Just as she had released one arm, she felt a tug through the net.

She looked up, her heart sinking with dread as she saw the net was slowly moving upward.

Not yet! she thought, as she set to sawing at the weave frantically. Another tug came and she felt the strands tighten around her. She slashed at them. An easing in water pressure told her she was moving upward. She realized more of her was outside the net than in it. Yet still the tangle of it around her legs pulled her upward, feet first. She saw the surface rapidly approaching. Felt the looming hulk of the boat nearby. Heard voices.

She felt a surge of panic and hacked at the net. Something caught the blade and it slipped from her grasp. She twisted and grabbed for it, but her fingers closed on water. Sunlight flashed on the blade once before it sank out of sight.

The net tightened on her legs as she was hauled upward.

No! She shrieked into the water and twisted about to claw at her legs, but the next pull lifted her into air. She gasped in a fresh lungful then tried to reach up to her ankles again. Free of the buoyancy of the water, she didn’t have the strength to reach them. She heard voices above her. Angry voices. One of them barked a word.

Then hands were clawing and pulling at her. She struggled and struck out, shrieking in terror. The hard edge of the boat rolled under her, then she fell onto a flat surface.

The hands left her. She stopped shrieking and stared up at her captors, panting with fear. They stared back at her, their pale, wrinkled faces twisted with disgust.

Words passed between them. One narrowed his eyes at her, then barked at the others. They eyed him with sullen respect, then all but one moved away.

She guessed the barker was the leader. He began to talk with the one who’d stayed. Imi turned her attention to the net still tangled around her ankles. The rope had drawn painfully tight. If she could free herself, she had only to spring up and leap over the side of the boat to get away.

But the rope would not loosen. She felt a shadow fall over her and realized the leader was bending down. Seeing the knife in his hand, she shrank away, sure that he was going to kill her. She heard herself whimpering with fear.

The knife moved to her ankles. With a few careful cuts he freed her.

He was going to let her go. She felt a surge of relief and found herself thanking the man. He looked at the second man, who smiled.

It was not a friendly smile. Imi felt her stomach twist. The leader barked again, and one of the other men tossed him a short length of rope. As he moved toward her ankle again she realized what he was going to do. Relief evaporated and she tried to leap up, but his hand closed around her leg firmly. The second man grabbed her shoulders, shoved her down onto her back and held her there. She shrieked again, and kept shrieking as the leader tied her ankles together. They rolled her onto her front in order to tie her hands together behind her, then dragged her to the center of the boat where they tied her hands to a metal ring.

“What are you doing?” Imi cried desperately, struggling into a sitting position. “Why won’t you let me go free?”

The two men exchanged glances, then turned and walked away.

“You can’t hold me here. I’m… I’m the Elai king’s daughter,” she declared, feeling anger growing. “My father will send warriors to kill you!”

None of the landwalkers paid any attention. They did not know what she was telling them. They did not understand her words any more than she understood theirs. How could she tell them who she was?

One of the landwalkers nearby upended a bag. Its contents spilled out. She stared at the green mess, and as the men set to plucking small objects out of the tangle she realized that the limp strands she was looking at were the fragile branches and roots of the sea-bell plant.

The landwalkers had ripped the plants out of the sandy floor of the sea.

She felt a wave of nausea at the thought of what they’d done. There would be no crop of bells next year for this plant. They had killed the plant outright in their haste to harvest them.

How can they be so wasteful? she thought. And so stupid! If they left the plants intact, they could come back next year and gather more bells.

Her father was right. Landwalkers were horrible. She twisted her hands about, but there was no way she was going to be able to get to the knot to untie it.

Rissi, she thought. He’s got to tell father where I am. She struggled to her feet and searched the water. After an eternity she thought she saw something move. A head, perhaps.

“Rissi!” she screamed. “Tell father where I am. Tell him I’m a prisoner. Tell him to come—”

Something struck her face. She staggered to her knees, her face aflame. The leader was standing over her. He barked out a few words, pointing at her with his long, web-less fingers.

Though she could not understand a word, the warning was clear. Stunned, Imi watched him walk away.

Father will come, she told herself. He’ll save me. When he does, he’ll spear every one of these horrible landwalkers, and they’ll deserve it.