Last of the Wilds

22



The sea surged under the boat as if it regarded the vessel as an irritating pest that it must shake off. As a wave threatened to capsize it, Emerahl drew magic and used it to press the hull back against the water. A gust of wind drove rain into her face and she cursed.

She realized she was cursing the sea in a language long forgotten, from a time when fishermen and sailors worshipped gods of the seas. It was easy to imagine the thrashing expanse of water was still ruled by a greater mind—one who wanted to be rid of this trespasser—especially when she considered how quickly the storm had blown in.

Emerahl snorted. The old gods are dead. This is just bad weather. I should have taken the boat seller’s advice, bought a bigger boat and waited a few weeks for the season to change.

She had once known this stretch of coast well and had been able to read the signs of bad weather. Much could change in a thousand years, however. The currents as well as the weather were different. Even the shape of the shoreline was unrecognizable in places. As she had travelled along the Toren coast she had experienced an odd succession of familiar and unfamiliar sights. Fortunately the hills that marked the border between Toren and Genria were still where they ought to be. From there she had turned her back to the coast and sailed straight out to sea, as Gherid had instructed.

A wave broke over the boat, soaking her. She scooped the water out of the hull with magic. The rain was so thick now she could barely see the other end of the vessel. There was nothing for her to do but endure. She could not raise the sail in these conditions. She could not see where she was, let alone find her destination, or return to the mainland.

She cursed again as another wave nearly toppled the boat. The wind sounded like an inhuman voice. She could not help feeling a twinge of superstitious fear. Perhaps she should not be cursing the god of the sea.

Why not? He can’t harm me, she thought. He’s dead. Like all the old gods. Well, all but the Circle. Could it be that one of the remaining five had learned to influence the sea? Was one playing with it right now?

The thought was not comforting. If the gods were causing this, what purpose did they have? Were they aware of her? Were they trying to stop her reaching her destination? She clung to the rudder. Though rain and cloud lay thick between herself and the sun, a thin gray light struggled through to her. Suddenly the light failed and she moved into shadow. She looked around, holding back a growing dread. When she saw the source of the shadow her heart froze. Something tall and dark loomed over her.

Fear melted away as she realized what it was.

The Stack!

Through sheer luck, the boat had been driven by the storm to the very place she wanted to be. Now, however, the current was drawing her away from it. Casting about, she considered the oars clipped to the sides of the boat.

No. They’ll be of no use. I was lucky the sea didn’t throw the boat against the Stack. Even if I manage to row closer, I can’t tie up the boat. It’ll be dashed to pieces. This calls for magic, and a lot of concentration.

Drawing in a good deal of magic, she sent it out around the boat. She would have to act quickly once she had hold of the vessel or the next wave would wash right over her.

Lift.

Her stomach sank as the boat soared upward, carrying her with it. She stared ahead, where she knew the Stack stood, now hidden by the rain.

Forward.

It was not a smooth ride. Moving the boat demanded the unwavering focus of her mind. Every gust of wind or shift in her thoughts caused the boat to tilt or sink. Even her relief at seeing the Stack emerge from the rain caused the boat’s movement to waver.

Closer.

She stopped when she could see the rocky surface before her.

Higher.

The sound of the churning waves crashing against the rocks diminished as she lifted the boat up. Tufts of hardy sea grass appeared, growing in cracks and nooks, then a blanket of it became visible. She had reached the top of the Stack.

Forward.

She moved the boat over the sea grass, then, several paces from the cliff edge, lowered it to the ground.

There was no time to feel relief. The wind threatened to toss the boat back off. Jumping out, she removed her belongings, turned it over, rammed pegs into the ground and lashed the vessel to them.

When she was sure it was secure, she straightened and looked around. It was possible she had just landed on a promontory of the coast and not the Stack the boy had described. Leaving the boat, she walked carefully to the edge. The sea below was hidden by the dense rain.

She marked her position by pulling up three handfuls of grass to reveal the pale sandy soil beneath, then she paced around the edge. After fifty paces, she found the uprooted grass. To be sure she hadn’t encountered a natural repetition of her marker, she walked away from the edge. The boat appeared, and she nodded to herself.

I’ll know this is the Stack the boy described if I find the cave.

She walked around the cliff edge again, looking for the beginning of the staircase that led down to the cave, but found no sign of it. After the fifth circuit of the island, she gave up and returned to the boat.

Sitting down, she drew enough magic to form a shield against the rain. Her clothes were soaked and heavy. She channelled a little more magic to warm and dry herself. As the water misted out of her clothes and hair she shivered.

This had better not be one of those three-day storms, she thought. If it goes for more than a few more hours, I will try to find that staircase again.

And if she didn’t find it? She would have to stay and wait the storm out. Even if she used magic to keep the boat afloat and propel it through the water, she still had no way of knowing which direction to go to return to the coast.

With a resigned sigh, she opened her bag and brought out some dried fruit to chew on while she waited.


Early morning sunlight set the membrane walls of the bower glowing. Auraya looked around the little house and sighed with pleasure. It was good to be back in Si.

Why does this place feel like home? she asked herself. I feel better today than I have for months. And I had no nightmares last night, she realized. She felt as if she had left a lot of troubling things behind her. Nightmares. The hospice. I hadn‘t realized how much the hospice was bothering me.

She thought back to her previous stay in Si. She’d always woken up feeling good here. But was that because of my dream links with Leiard? she suddenly thought.

Leiard. Did she imagine that the pang of hurt that always came at the thought of Leiard was weaker? He seemed a part of someone else’s life now. Perhaps soon she would feel nothing at all.

:I hope not, a familiar voice spoke into her mind. It would be terrible indeed for you to feel nothing. Neither joy nor sorrow. Neither pleasure nor pain.

I meant feel nothing about Leiard, she told Chaia. You know that.

:You will always feel something in regard to him. lime will dull the pain. There is nothing that eases it as well as immersing oneself in new feelings.

Yes, she thought. New challenges. Like getting these Pentadrians out of Si.

:That wasn‘t what I had in mind.

She smiled crookedly. I thought not. But as they say: work before pleasure.

:I’ll hold you to that.

His presence abruptly vanished. Auraya shook her head. Sometimes she did not understand Chaia, but then he was a god and she wasn’t. She rose and moved to the hanging that covered the bower entrance.

“Owaya fly?”

She looked back at Mischief, who had decided one of the baskets hanging from the bower roof was an acceptable sleeping place. Only his nose was visible over the lip.

“Yes. Auraya fly alone. To a dangerous meeting. Mischief stay here. Safe.”

Mischief considered this for a long moment, then his nose withdrew from sight. Since being kidnapped before the battle, he took all warnings of danger seriously.

“Msstf stay,” he murmured.

Relieved, Auraya moved outside and took a step toward the Speakers’ Bower. At once a small crowd of Siyee children erupted from the forest and surrounded her. She laughed in surprise as they showered her with flowers. A few daringly reached out to touch her hands. Suddenly one gave a piercing whistle and they scampered away. Auraya caught enough from the jumble of their thoughts to learn they were prudently fleeing the approach of an adult. She turned to see Speaker Sirri walking toward her.

The Siyee leader was smiling. “You’ve become a figure of legend since you last visited. The singers among us have made up a song called ‘The White Lady,’ in which you defeat the Pentadrians single-handedly.”

Auraya chuckled. “That’s a little unfair on the other White.”

Sirri shrugged. “Yes. It certainly looked like you struck the killing blow, however.”

“It was more… complicated than that,” Auraya told the Speaker. “The others were attacking in less visible ways. It just happened to fall to me to take advantage of the enemy’s mistake.”

“When the sorceress became distracted?”

“Yes.” Auraya saw Sirri’s crooked smile and looked closer. What she saw amused and surprised her. “Tryss was the distraction? He attacked her?”

Sirri nodded. “So he says, and I have no reason to doubt him.”

“How incredibly brave,” Auraya breathed, thinking of the shy young inventor of the Siyee’s hunting harness.

“Not many know of it. He does not want to be treated like a hero when so many died. The war has changed him. I think he feels guilty for having made something that enabled the Siyee to join a war that killed so many of us. I try to tell him it was not his fault, but…” She looked up at Auraya and frowned, suddenly wondering whether Auraya, too, felt the burden of guilt. When Auraya met her eyes Sirri looked away. “I’ve come to tell you that the volunteer Speakers are waiting in the gathering place,” Sirri said.

Auraya frowned. “Am I late?”

“No. They are early. Anxious to get it over with, I suspect.”

“Then let’s oblige them.”

Sirri led Auraya to the edge of the forest then leapt into the air. Auraya followed and they glided down to the Flat, where the two speakers, Iriz and Tyzi, waited. Several hunters wearing harnesses waited nearby. Sirri had decided they should accompany them in case the Speakers were separated from Auraya, and the Pentadrian birds attacked.

Iriz and Tyzi radiated both fear and determination as they exchanged greetings with Auraya.

“Which Pentadrian group will we meet first?” Iriz asked.

“Which do you think we should approach?” Auraya asked in reply.

“Whichever is closest,” Tyzi answered. “The sooner we tell them to leave, the better.”

“The one travelling northeast then.”

“The north group is closer to a tribe,” Iriz pointed out. “If the Pentadrians decide to attack, we might not be able to send a warning in time.”

“The north group won’t know what the other group is doing,” Tyzi said. Then she looked at Auraya doubtfully. “Or will they?”

“They have a way of communicating with each other as Circlian priests and priestesses do,” Auraya said.

Tyzi frowned. “Then we should meet the north group.”

“By the time we get there, the Pentadrians travelling east will be close to a tribe, too,” Iriz said.

“Scouts are watching the enemy,” Sirri said. “All Siyee know to avoid them, and have made preparations to leave their home if they have to. No tribe is going to sit and wait around to be attacked.”

Iriz and Tyzi nodded in agreement. “The closest tribe then,” Iriz said.

“We should reach them by this afternoon,” Tyzi added.

Auraya looked at Sirri. “And return tomorrow, if all goes well.”

The Speaker smiled grimly. “Let us delay no longer.”

She moved to the lower edge of the Flat, where a short drop divided the rocky slope. As Sirri leapt off the edge, the other Speakers and hunters propelled themselves after her. Auraya drew magic and sent herself up to join them.

As she drew level with Sirri, she felt another presence at her side.

:You’re back.

:I am, Chaia said.

:Do you know what these Pentadrians are up to?

:Yes.

:Are you going to tell me?

:No.

:Why not?

:It is up to you to find and deal with them.

:So you won’t even tell me where they are.

:There is no need. You will find them easily enough.

:What’s the point in talking to you if you won’t tell me anything useful?

:Does there have to be a price? Isn’t my company enough?

She sighed.

:Of course there doesn’t have to be a price. I just wish I knew how dangerous these Pentadrians are. I would not like these Siyee to be hurt or killed.

:Then you should be taking every precaution. Chaia’s tone was no longer playful. Do not be complacent just because I am present now and then. I cannot be everywhere at once, or with you all the time. If I could, and if the world was full of highly Gifted mortals willing to do my will, we would not have needed to make you what you are. He paused. Have you taken every precaution?

:I have, she answered. At least, I hope so.

As he moved away, she felt a twinge of anxiety. Once more she started to consider all the possible outcomes of this meeting with the Pentadrians.


Dedicated Servant Renva grasped the hand of Servant Vengel and held tightly as he hauled her up over the top of the ridge. He steadied her as she struggled to stand. The ground was a mess of grooves and sharp protruding stones and there was no flat surface to stand on.

When she had caught her balance, she looked around. The ridge was high enough to give her a view of the terrain ahead. She groaned as she saw exposed ridges and shadowed ravines extending toward the mountains ahead.

This is a nightmare! she thought. Surely only winged creatures can live here. It’s as if the land is doing its best to repel us.

She wished she could oblige it, but she had her orders to follow. The Siyee were primitive folk, she had been told. Simple people with simple ways were easy to impress. Whether she could persuade them to worship the Five Gods depended on how impressed they were with the Circlians and their false gods.

But we’ve got to reach them first.

It would be much easier if they came to her. She had glimpsed them in the distance from time to time. Often she had the feeling they were watching her and her companions, yet they never came within hailing distance.

Simple people are often fearful, she reminded herself.

We were their enemy a few months ago. They will regard us as invaders.

Turning away from the view, she began making her way along the ridge top.

“Dedicated Servant Renva,” Vengel called.

She turned to see him staring into the distance. He glanced at her, then pointed. Looking in the direction he indicated, she searched the sky, but saw nothing.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Siyee,” Vengel replied. “Flying low. Between the trees and us.”

She looked lower, but it took some time before she saw them. Flying shapes too large to be birds glided among the tree tops, too far away for her to make out details. There were more than ten of them and they were coming directly toward her.

“I see them.” She considered her position. Whether the Siyee were coming to talk or fight, she ought to be with her people. Since the others wouldn’t make it to the ridge in time, that meant returning to the narrow ravine below.

She walked back to Vengel’s side and leaned over the edge.

“Go back down,” she called to the Servant climbing the rope. The man frowned and started to descend. She looked at Vengel. “Stay here and see if you can get their attention, but be ready in case they attack.”

Vengel nodded. His face was grim, but he said nothing as she started to descend. He had enough Skill in magic to protect himself from arrows.

Once she had reached the floor of the ravine, Renva gathered the others together.

“There is a group of Siyee heading our way,” she told them. “They may be coming to meet us; they may not be aware of us at all. We should be prepared for an attack, just in case.”

The unskilled carriers and less Skilled Servants moved to the center of the group. All were silent as they waited. Vengel gave a shout and all looked up to search the sky.

Winged shapes flashed behind the tops of the trees.

Renva caught glimpses of eyes staring down at her suspiciously. They circled overhead, their confidence not a little intimidating. She saw a larger figure—wingless and white—and her throat went dry.

The White sorceress. Nekaun warned me that she might come. She touched the star pendant hanging against her chest.

:Nekaun!

The pause that followed was short, but felt like an eternity.

:Renva. I see you have met the Siyee.

:In the process of meeting, she corrected. The White sorceress accompanies them.

:That is no surprise. So long as no violence is done, she won’t attack you. Proceed.

Renva swallowed. I hope he’s right. She took a deep breath and forced herself to call out.

“People of the Sky. Siyee. We do not wish to harm anyone. Come down so we may speak to you.”

The forest echoed with the flying people’s whistles. Strange words were mixed with the piercing calls. They were talking, she guessed. She did not expect them to understand her, but hoped, they’d hear peaceful intent in her voice. The White sorceress probably did understand. It was said they could read minds.

“I am Dedicated Servant Renva and these are my companions. We have come a long way in the hopes of becoming your friends,” she told them. “We have…”

Leaves stirred as three of the Siyee dove through the tree tops. They landed on branches high above and stared down at Renva and her people. She heard a voice behind her.

“If your intentions are peaceful, why did you not learn the local language before you came?”

Renva spun around. The White sorceress stood on a lower branch of a tree, not far away.

“There was no one to teach us,” Renva replied. “Or we would have.”

The White sorceress looked upward and spoke a string of strange words. One of the Siyee above replied. The White sorceress smiled faintly, then met Renva’s eyes again.

“I am here as protector and translator only. Speaker Sirri, leader of the Siyee, wishes to know why you have entered Si uninvited.”

Renva looked up at the Siyee who had spoken. A woman leads them. Interesting. “We come to make peace with the Siyee.”

The White sorceress translated. Or at least I hope she is, Renva thought. How will I know if she mistranslates my words in her favor?

:Take care how you phrase your questions, Nekaun advised.

The Siyee leader spoke.

“Speaker Sirri says: ‘If you wish to make peace, leave us be. Leave and do not return,’ ” the White sorceress said.

“Will you not give us a chance to mend the rift between our people?” Renva asked.

Another of the Siyee responded.

“The rift is too wide. How can you expect us to forgive those who invaded our allies’ lands and murdered so many of our fathers and sons, mothers and daughters?”

“Must we then remain enemies always?”

“Friendship must be earned,” the Siyee leader replied. “Trust is not gained when an enemy enters a house uninvited.”

“How may we win your trust? How can we even learn your language if we can’t… Will you come to Avven instead?”

The Siyee exchanged glances.

“Perhaps one day, if we were sure we would be safe.”

“I swear, on the Five Gods, it will be so,” Renva said earnestly.

At that the Siyee looked uneasy. The older man spoke. The White sorceress looked surprised, and paused before translating.

“Speaker Iriz says: ‘If you attempt to persuade any Siyee to worship your gods you will fail. Huan created us and we will never turn from her.’ ”

They believe their gods created them? Nekaun murmured.

:It appears so, she replied.

:Do as they say, he told her. Leave.

:Yes, holy one.

Renva bowed her head. “Friendship was our reason for coming here. To prove our trustworthiness, we will leave as you bid us. I hope, in the future, another chance will come to make peace between us.”

The White sorceress translated, then the Siyee voiced their approval. They leapt from their perches and swooped out of the trees. The White sorceress lingered a moment, watching Renva as though measuring her up.

“Scouts will watch you,” she warned. “We will know if you do not leave.”

She floated upward, gaining speed so quickly that the leafy canopy of the tree vibrated at her passing. Renva shook her head in awe. It was incredible that someone could be so skilled in magic that they could defy the pull of the earth.

And depressing knowing what we’re going to have to travel back over to get to the coast again.

:Take your time, Nekaun said in her mind. Your situation may change between now and then.

I hope not, she thought. She felt a little guilty at thinking this. She was supposed to be willing to face and endure anything in order to serve the gods.

:But you don’t have to enjoy it, Nekaun told her, his communication light with humor. She laughed. As her travelling companions turned to stare at her, she composed herself again.

“We’ll retrace our steps until dusk,” she decided, “then find a good place to stop for the night.” She looked up at the ridge. “You may as well come down,” she called to Vengel, who was leaning over the edge, peering down at her. “We’re going home.”