Last of the Wilds

32



As the tent collapsed, Imi felt a fluttering inside her stomach. She drew in a deep breath, then let it out in a rush.

I’m going home!

As her excitement subsided she was surprised to feel a little regret. The Pentadrians had been so nice to her. If all of her time away had been like this she would not have wanted to go home immediately. She had discovered so many wonderful new things: delicious food, pretty things she’d never seen before, wonderful musicians and entertainers. The Elai palace was going to seem ordinary and boring in comparison, but she missed her father, Teiti, and the guards and children she played with.

Imenja moved away from the servants, who were now carefully folding the tent, and crossed the courtyard to Imi’s side.

“Are you ready?”

Imi nodded. “Yes.”

“You have all your belongings?”

Looking down, Imi pointed at the small box near her feet. Inside were the presents Imenja and Nekaun had given her. “I put them in there.” She bent to pick it up, but Imenja put out a hand to stop her.

“No, you are a princess. You should not have to carry your own luggage.” She looked up at Reivan, who smiled and bent to pick up the box. How Reivan understood what Imenja wanted, Imi could not guess. Sometimes she wondered if they had some silent code of gestures that they communicated with.

Imenja turned to a nearby door. “Let us depart.”

Many corridors and staircases followed. Most led downhill, to Imi’s relief. Though she was much stronger now, she still tired easily. They passed through a large courtyard and entered a hall full of black-robed men and women. Through the arches of the far wall she could see many landwalker houses beyond. She could hear voices—many, many voices. There must be a large crowd outside.

She dragged her attention away. A familiar man in black robes stepped forward to meet her.

“Princess Imi,” Nekaun said. “It has been an honor to have you in our Sanctuary.”

She swallowed and thought quickly. “First Voice of the Gods, Nekaun. I thank you for your hospitality and for rescuing me.”

He smiled, his eyes sparkling, and without looking away beckoned to the people behind him. Two men stepped forward carrying a large chest between them. They set it down beside her, then stepped back.

“This is a gift for your father,” Nekaun told her. “Will you accept it on his behalf?”

“I will,” she said, looking at the chest and wondering what was inside. “I will make sure he gets it.”

Nekaun gestured at the chest. Imi blinked as the lid opened by itself. No, by magic, she corrected. He can use magic, like Imenja.

She forgot all else as she saw what was inside. Gold cups and pitchers; fine, brightly colored cloth; jars of the sweet dried fruits she had grown to love; and beautiful glass bottles that, judging from the smells coming from the chest, were full of perfume.

“Thank you!” she breathed. She turned back to Nekaun and straightened her back. “I accept and thank you on behalf of King Ais of Elai.”

He nodded formally. “May your journey home be swift, the seas gentle and the weather fine. May the gods guard and protect you.” He moved his hands over his chest, tracing the pattern Imenja called a “star,” and the rest of the Pentadrians followed suit. “Farewell, Princess Imi. I hope to meet you again.”

“And I you,” she replied.

He gestured to the two men, who picked up the chest. “I will escort you to the litters.”

With Nekaun walking on one side and Imenja on the other, she moved toward the arched openings. As they stepped out of the building she caught her breath.

A wide staircase led down to a mass of people. They crowded between the houses, an endless sea of faces. As Nekaun, Imenja and Imi emerged, the people shouted and waved their arms, their combined voices a roar that was both thrilling and frightening. She had never seen so many people in one place before.

Imi hesitated, then made herself continue down the stairs. At the bottom, bare-chested landwalkers stood beside a glittering platform covered with cushions. Imenja smiled at Imi and ushered her onto the platform. As she lowered herself onto the cushions, Imi followed suit. Nekaun remained on the stairs.

The bare-chested men bent to take hold of poles jutting out from the sides of the platform. Another man barked an order and the platform rose. Imi clutched at the sides. Though the men moved smoothly and steadily she could not help feeling uneasy about being carried so far off the ground.

Now two columns of black-robed men and women descended the stairs and walked past the platform on either side. The crowd parted to allow the men to carry Imenja and Imi down the road. Imi looked back at Nekaun, who raised a hand in farewell.

As she began to lift her hand in reply a flurry of bright objects burst around her. She flinched, then laughed in delight as a shower of flower petals landed on the platform.

“Do they always do this?” she asked as more petals fluttered around her.

“It depends on the event,” Imenja replied. “People tend to gather here when they know there’s a chance of seeing one of the Voices, especially Nekaun. We don’t get flowers, however. They are in your honor.”

“Why?” Imi asked, flattered and amazed.

“You are a princess. It is a tradition to make a fuss of royalty. In times past, a monarch and his family were expected to throw coin in return, but that tradition ended when the last Avven king died almost a century ago.”

“You do not have a king?”

Imenja shook her head. “Not since then. That king had no heirs, and the people chose to be ruled by the Voices instead. We also rule Mur, to the north, through a Dedicated Servant that the local Servants elect. In Dekkar, which lies south of here, the people still follow a High Chieftain— though his successor is chosen by the gods, not by direct lineage.”

“How do the gods tell the people which man they’ve chosen?”

“The candidates must undergo tests of skill, education and leadership. The one who passes all the tests becomes High Chieftain.”

“So the gods make sure the one they like passes.”

Imenja nodded. “Yes.”

“I wonder why I never thought to ask about this before,” Imi said. “They seem like things a princess should know. I guess I’m not a good princess.”

“You are a wonderful princess,” Imenja told her, smiling. “You haven’t been taught to ask these sorts of questions because your father never expected you to need to.”

Imi grimaced as she thought of her father. “He’s going to be so angry with me.”

Imenja’s smile widened. “Why?”

“Because I broke rules and got myself into trouble.”

“I don’t think he’ll care about that at all. When he sees you he’ll just be happy to have you back.”

Imi sighed. “I’ll be happy to be home. I don’t care if I have to stay in my room or take extra lessons for a year, I’ll never break a rule again.”

The platform turned. Imi saw that they were being carried into a different street. In the distance she could see the sea and the tiny shapes of ships. Another shower of petals fluttered around her and she felt her heart lighten.

I wish father could see this, she thought. He might change his mind about landwalkers. They’re not all bad. Then she smiled. When he meets Imenja, he’ll find that out for himself.


Speaker Veece walked out of the bower as Auraya landed.

“Thank you, Auraya of the White,” he said, as she handed him skins of water and baskets filled with fruit, cold meat and bread.

She smiled. “We can’t have you dying of starvation after all the work we put in.” Bright, dappled sunlight covered the platform and bower, making it hard to see inside the dim interior. “How is everyone?”

“Well. Wilar says we are all cured. We must wait until the rest of the village has recovered before we venture out, and we must stay in the village and avoid all visitors until the disease is gone from Si.”

“He’s right.” She grimaced. “It is hard to be patient, but you can be sure that if any of you catch this disease again it will kill you. You have to be cautious, especially of visitors.”

He sighed and nodded. “We will be. We do not want your efforts to go to waste, as you said earlier.” Moving to the edge of the platform, he looked out at the other bowers. “You have saved us, you and Wilar. We owe you a great debt.”

She shook her head. “You owe me nothing. I—”

:Auraya?

:Priest Magen?

:It is I. How fares the North River tribe?

:They are recovering well.

:I have just received bad news. The Siyee have brought three sick children to me. All have Hearteater. It seems they visited their sick friends, the ones we isolated just outside the Open, and caught the disease. I fear they have spread it further.

Auraya sighed.

:Then I had best return.

:You may wish to take a detour, he added. A Siyeefrom the North Forest tribe arrived just now. He reported that his people are sickening, too. I haven’t been able to discern whether it is the same disease or not.

:This is what I feared. Very well. I will visit this tribe on the way back. Will you and Danien be able to deal with the outbreak in the Open?

:We will try.

:Thank you, Magen.

Turning back to Speaker Veece, she managed a grim smile. “I have to leave,” she told him. “The disease has emerged in the Open again and the North Forest tribe is also sickening.”

The old man paled. “What will you do?”

“Talk to Leiard—I mean Wilar. I will return.”

Moving to the edge of the platform, she leapt off. As she searched for Leiard she sent out a mental communication.

:Juran?

:Auraya. How do the Siyeefare?

:The North River tribe has almost recovered, but I have just received news of two new outbreaks. I’m hoping Leiard will agree to deal with one.

:It is fortunate, then, that you are both there—though I still wonder at his reasons for entering Si. Have you considered that he might have gone there in the hopes of meeting you secretly?

She felt her face warm. She had avoided mentioning Leiard to Juran for as long as possible, not wanting to face questions like this.

:He did not greet me warmly, and he has not attempted to renew… anything.

:Good. I must go.

Leiard had just emerged from a bower. She dropped down to land beside him and he jumped with surprise.

“I just received some bad news,” she told him.

“What is it?”

“The North Forest tribe has a sickness. They don’t know if it’s Hearteater or not.”

His expression was grim. “And you want me to go there.”

“Yes. It has also reappeared in the Open, despite the best efforts of Sirri and the priests.”

He frowned. “So you want me to teach you to heal magically.”

She paused. Until she had Chaia’s permission, she hadn’t planned to ask again. Still, if Leiard was willing and she had time to ask Chaia again… “Yes.”

“Have you considered the possibility that the gods did not give you this ability because you weren’t meant to have it?” Leiard asked.

She blinked at him in surprise. Had he learned to read minds as well as hide his own?

“It is possible. I would have to consult them.”

He nodded. “If they agree, I will teach you.”

Her heart lifted and she smiled. “Just give me a moment.”

:Chaia?

She waited for an answer. Leiard had taken a step back, and a look of dismay had crossed his face, to be replaced with resignation. She called again and felt a powerful presense stir the magic of the world.

:Auraya.

It was not Chaia, but Huan.

:Huan, she said, surprised. Thank you for answering my call.

:You wish to learn this Dreamweaver’s healing Gift, the goddess stated.

:I do.

:I wish it were possible, but we cannot allow it. Magic of this nature upsets the balance of life and death in the world. If people understood what it could achieve and knew the White could perform it, their demands on you would be unreasonable.

Auraya’s stomach sank with disappointment.

:But the Siyee…?

:Will not all die. It is an unfortunate price they pay in order that the balance of life and death be maintained. You can only act swiftly to prevent the spread of this disease.

:And Leiard? Does he upset the balance of life and death?

:Yes, but he is but one Dreamweaver and, unlike you, not in a position of authority. The damage is minimal.

:He could teach others.

:He would fail. Few are capable of learning this Gift. You may be, but the consequences would be far greater.

She sighed. Then I must refuse his offer.

:Regretfully, yes.

As the goddess’s presence moved away, Auraya looked up at Leiard.

“They refused,” he stated.

“Yes.” She grimaced. “You were right. I was not meant to have this Gift.” She shook her head sadly. “I will go to the Open. It will take someone of authority to stop the disease from spreading there. The North Forest tribe is closest to this one. You had best deal with it.” She noticed he looked troubled. “What is it?”

He looked away. “I was planning to leave Si.”

She smiled in sympathy. “Hearteater has spoiled my plans too.” Then she frowned as she saw wariness in his gaze. “You still mean to leave? Oh… you were leaving because of me.”

His shoulders rose. “I am under orders to stay away from you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” She put her hands on her hips. “Juran would never want you to abandon the Siyee for the sake of… and I won’t be in the North Forest tribe anyway. Surely he didn’t tell you to leave whatever country I happen to enter.”

Leiard looked at the ground, then up at her. His eyes were hard. “Not exactly. He wasn’t all that specific.” He paused. “If I go to the North Forest tribe—if I stay in Si— will you promise me that I will not be harmed?”

She stared at him. Did he really fear retribution that much?

“Of course you won’t be harmed.”

“Promise me,” he said. “Swear it on the gods.”

She did not reply for several heartbeats, too dismayed at his distrust to speak. If this is what it takes for him to stay and help the Siyee…

“I swear, in the names of Chaia, Huan, Lore, Yranna and Saru, that while Leiard the Dreamweaver remains in Si helping the Siyee fight Hearteater he will not be harmed.”

Now it was his turn to stare at her. Slowly his face relaxed and he smiled.

“I can’t believe you did that,” he said. “For me.”

She let out a quick breath in exasperation. “I can’t believe you asked for it. Will you go to the North Forest tribe?”

He nodded. “Yes. Of course. I will pack my bags—and I had better tell Tyve.” He lifted a whistle hanging from a string around his neck to his lips and blew hard. Auraya hid a smile. Tyve appeared to be happy to be summoned thus, but she wondered how long that would last.

“Wilar!”

She turned to see Tyve swoop down to land on the platform.

“Pack your bags,” Leiard told the boy, smiling. “We’ve got another tribe to treat.” Tyve’s eyes widened as he comprehended what that meant. “Auraya must return to the Open and deal with the illness there.”

Leiard met her eyes and a faint smile curled his lips. She thought of the coldness that had been in his gaze when she had first arrived in the village.

I’m glad that changed, she thought. It is better we part friends.

“I will tell Speaker Veece of our plans,” she offered. “Take care of yourselves.”

Leiard nodded. “We will. Good luck.”

“Thank you.”

She moved to the edge of the platform and leapt into the air.