“It’s simple: four hundred innocent lives lost,” Selena said. “And who’s to say that the deaths of thousands of Zak’reth weren’t an abomination in the god’s eyes? They were to me. They weigh heavily on me, every one. No, the god did not err, I did. What happened on Isle Calinda was more tragedy than victory. I know this even if I hadn’t the god’s dark mark to prove it. And I will never summon the seas again. Not ever.” She took up her rag again and smiled tightly. “We were speaking of why you were on the Edge for nearly a decade. Of how the people needed you.”
“Aye,” Niven said. “The war was terrible enough but what came after has been, in some ways, much worse. Villages put to the torch by brigands who rape and steal. Fishing boats stolen by the scores, leaving families with no means to eat, never mind sell their catches. Many good people simply gave up and turned to lawlessness. I suppose they felt that it was easier to take from others what had been stolen from them, rather than start over from nothing.”
Selena nodded. She could imagine burnt out husks of villages, women mourning their dead men, small children wandering empty shores alone. It’s so much worse than we thought. She remembered the Alliance meeting that sent her on this voyage, where they discussed this very thing, safe in the Temple and leagues away.
“I had heard the Bazira have a hand in fomenting unrest.”
“Perhaps. Pain and suffering bring our dark brethren succor, true. What I witnessed wasn’t driven by anything other than hopelessness brought on by the war. I tried to offer the people hope and told them to listen for the god but it was difficult. I was welcomed wherever I went for my healing, but unsuccessful in turning any to the faith. For six years, I sailed from island to island, some hardly more than atolls, healing, day and night. But it seemed no matter how many people I healed, there were twenty more behind, and then pirates or brigands would attack and undo all my work. And there weren’t enough of us Aluren to staunch the blood. So I decided to return to the Moon Temple.” He dropped his gaze. “To be plain, I gave up.”
“You served in desolate conditions for years. Alone,” Selena said. “No one can fault you for being weary.”
“I was. Very weary. And then she came.”
Selena paused in taking up her cloth again. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask who but she knew. “Skye.”
Niven’s eyes were shadowed with all that he had seen but Selena watched a fire kindle behind them.
“Yes. Skye.”
“When?”
“It was two years ago…I don’t even remember the name of the little island. She came and spoke to us, to all the villagers there, promising a new era of peace. Many Aluren accompanied her, converts she had made along her journey.”
Selena stopped. “Many Aluren? How many?”
“There was a hundred with her, at least. And she left a dozen of them with us, with orders to keep doing our good work, and to stay on the Eastern Edge until she returned. And so I did.”
“One hundred Aluren? Are you certain?”
“I saw them myself. A small army of adherents: healers and Paladins both.” Niven shook his head, his eyes wide. “It was…joyous. And a relief to know that are ranks weren’t as thin as we’d feared.”
A relief, Selena thought. The Alliance needs this same ‘relief.’ Celestine, the poor woman, needs this relief.
“When Skye left Lillomet four years ago,” Selena said slowly, “it was without a word to anyone. Not even her husband. It was mere weeks ago, she sent a peliteryx to Celestine, outlining her plans. She said nothing of having Aluren with her. And where are these adherents now? Why hasn’t she sent any back to the Temple? It makes no sense.”
Niven looked uncomfortable. “Is it not good news? It seems that Skye’s plan is pleasing to the Shining face.”
“It is…hopeful,” Selena said. “I just wish Skye was not so reticent about her plans.” She’d almost said secretive, but Niven’s fervor for Skye reminded her of Taliah.
And they are both right to trust her, she chided herself. My bitterness for Skye is rooted in the fact that Skye gave the order that brought me the wound. She could never have known what would happen. How could she?
“Skye has the god’s ear better than any,” Niven said. “I have faith that she will succeed in her endeavor, and when she does, war, strife, even the Bazira…they will all be unpleasant memories of another Age.”
Selena said nothing but poured vinegar into a glass. She dipped her tool—small steel pincers—into the liquid that smelled sharply sour.
“I’m going to pull the ball now. Are you ready?”
Niven braced himself, and said in a whispery voice, “As ready as I’ll ever be. I’m not used to being the patient. I know now why they always looked so scared.”
“Tell me how you ended up in the hold of that ship,” Selena said. “And of the merkind.”
“Of the merkind, I can tell you little,” Niven said. “I heard the battle. It sounded…like something out of a nightmare. The screaming…”
Selena dug the pincers into his side, searching. Niven shuddered and gasped.
“I was in the Forgotten Isles,” he said through clenched teeth, “doing as Skye commanded—maintaining a presence and healing those who needed it.”
Selena twisted the pincers. Niven clutched the bed sheet. He spoke quickly, as if trying to get the words out ahead of a scream.
“I was the lone Aluren there, working to build a small chapel to the Two-Faced God. The villagers were friendly to me. Desperately poor, but…hopeful. But then the ship…the Seven Swords…it docked under the…auspices of …replenishing their stores of fresh water and salted meat for a longer journey to the Western Watch.”
“I think I’ve found the ball.” Selena dug deeper and Niven whimpered. “I’m sorry. Go on. They were pirates?”
Sweat beaded his forehead. “They flew no standard but said they were a cargo packet from the Isle of Lords. A poor lie. The Isle of Lords would never hire the likes of these men. Ah, gods!”
Niven twisted involuntarily away from Selena’s probing steel teeth, and she felt the pincers scrape lead. Three grasps and three times the pincers slipped. Niven was breathing like a bellows by the time her tool caught and held.
“I’ve got it.” Selena carefully pulled and held the pincers to the light; a small bloody slug grasped in its tines. She set the tool down, poured seawater, and found the moon in the sky.
“Illuria.”
The perfect round hole—made less perfect and more ragged by Selena’s prying tool—knit itself. Niven’s breathing slowed and a small smile spread over his face.
“I understand what you meant,” he said. “To ease pain is no small thing.”
Selena smiled thinly, watching the lines of pain on his face melt away. Her hand crept to her own wound but she let it fall. “I want to let you rest, but I’m still curious about we came to find you.”