‘Yes, there certainly is. It’s called an interference pattern generator.’
‘A what?’
‘Sorry, that’s a very long name for a particular kind of very small spirit. We call them imps. They do all sorts of different things.’
‘Is there somewhere in Sarla where I could buy one?’
‘Please, let me get it for you. I’ll enjoy giving your man something that’ll help him deal with Yarl.’
‘Well, thank you. That’s very generous.’
‘No, it’s not. It’s vengeful, and I love it.’
Outside something bumped the door and someone cursed. When the door swung open, Loy nearly yelped, but Hassan came in, hands full of glasses, with two pottery bottles tucked one under each arm. He set them down on the table and spoke to Ammadin in Hirl-Onglay about the wine. For the first time Loy noticed that he was wearing a knife on his belt, which, judging from the sheath, had a blade nearly two feet long.
‘Zayn, Loy is the mother of the girl Yarl Soutan raped,’ Ammadin said. ‘We were discussing it while you were watching the Recallers. I think that’s why Onree gave you her name.’
‘Most likely, yes.’ Hassan was busy filling glasses; he handed Loy a glass of white wine with a flourish like a waiter. ‘I’m very sorry to hear that.’
‘So was I, yes.’ Loy took a sip from her glass, a surprisingly decent wine for a hohte like this one. ‘If you kill him, tell him I hope he ends up in hell, will you? While he can still hear.’
‘I’ll be glad to.’ Hassan gave Ammadin a glass of white, took one of red for himself, then sat on the floor at Ammadin’s feet.
‘Well,’ Loy made herself stop staring at the knife. ‘What brings you to Sarla?’
‘A quest,’ Hassan said. ‘I can’t tell you for what. It’s Bane. Killing Soutan’s not part of it, so Onree told me to ask you about him.’
The conversation progressed in Vransic sentences kept simple enough for Ammadin to follow. Loy told them that Soutan had been a loremaster and a teacher, a good teacher at that, although there had always been unpleasant rumours about his personal life. He’d never had a long-term love affair or marriage with anyone, female or male. He preferred to visit female prostitutes who would put up with a certain level of violence, though he always travelled to other towns to do so. In fact, a street girl in Kors, a city in Burgunee, had turned up dead after one of his visits, but money had changed hands, facts had been suppressed, and no one at the college had heard of the incident until years later, during the official investigation into Rozi’s rape.
After the Kors incident, however, Soutan had taken a year-long sabbatical and disappeared. Although he never told anyone where he’d been, he came back changed, obsessed with finding old magic. He was sure, he told the Loremasters Guild, that with old magic he could return everyone to the lost homeland. Most members of the guild had tried to talk him out of his obsession, but he’d won a few converts.
‘My daughter Rozi, for one,’ Loy said. ‘He held special classes, as he called them, for his believers. He had a way of gaining the confidence of young people, you see. He’d pretend that he disliked them or looked down on them at first. Then later he’d tell them he’d been wrong; they’d proved they were really smart. The double flattery really hooked them.’
‘Tell me something,’ Ammadin said. ‘Is Rozi the only student he attacked?’
‘No. There were two others. One of them refused to testify against him after we found out about the whore in Kors. She was afraid he’d kill her, too. The other one did testify, and so did Rozi. That’s when he jumped bail and ran from Sarla, two years ago now. We didn’t know he’d ended up in Kazrajistan.’
Hassan’s grim stare darkened further. He stood and held out his hand for her glass. ‘The Three Prophets tell us that a man like that should be beheaded. More wine?’
‘Yes, thank you.’ Loy gave the glass over.
‘Do you know where in Burgunee he’s staying?’ Hassan asked.
‘Oh yes, just over the border, near Kors. There’s a woman there, Marya her name is, and she’s a dookis, very rich, owns a lot of land. She took Soutan in, because she collects magic, even though she isn’t a sorcerer.’
‘Isn’t that against your laws?’ Hassan said.
‘Yes, it certainly is. When you’re rich enough, the laws don’t seem to apply.’
Hassan gave her back her glass, refilled. ‘That’s all very interesting,’ he said. ‘I don’t suppose the dookis has taken in any other strangers.’
Ammadin snarled at him in Hirl-Onglay, furious words spoken so fast that Loy couldn’t understand them. For a moment Hassan went as still as death; then he forced out a smile and answered her in the same language.
‘Excuse me,’ he said to Loy in Vranz. ‘I shouldn’t keep bothering you with questions.’
Loy was about to tell him that she didn’t mind, but something about the set of Ammadin’s jaw and the cold look in her eyes stopped her. ‘That about sums Yarl Soutan up, anyway,’ she said instead. ‘He can really fool people. He keeps his nasty side for the women who attract him.’
‘I’ve met men like that,’ Hassan said. ‘Good soldiers, loyal friends, as long as you’re another man. Women are just prey to them, nothing more.’
‘Yes. I used to wonder what Yarl’s mother was like. A real horror, I bet.’
‘He’s not from around here?’ Ammadin said.
‘No. He came from down in Pegaree. People there do tend to be a little strange. It’s kind of isolated.’
Hassan took his full glass in one hand and the bottle of red in the other. He sat down once more at Ammadin’s feet, leaned against her chair, and proceeded to drink steadily for the rest of the conversation. Loy decided that she preferred not to know what sort of man he was when drunk, but what Ammadin had to tell kept her in the hohte room.
‘I know where Soutan went when he went east,’ Ammadin said in an oddly casual tone of voice. ‘Chof country, where he persuaded some of their young males to present him to the full court of the Great Mother. By the way, you do know that their own name for themselves is Chof, don’t you?’
‘Yes, I do, but most people here just use ChaMeech, even at the college. Habit, I guess.’
‘All right. Soutan’s looking for something called the Covenant Ark. He told the Chof that if he had the Ark, all the H’mai would leave this world and let them have it back. Going home, he called it. The Chof didn’t believe him.’
‘Good, because he was lying. Well, he might want the Ark, too, but he’s really after the magic ship that brought the Kazraks here.’
‘So the Chof were right, then. Now they’re afraid that he’ll bring Kazraki soldiers with him to help him search for it.’
‘Oh my god!’ Loy nearly choked on her wine. ‘That would be disastrous.’
‘The Chof feel that way, too. Especially now that he’s shown up with two Kazraks. Do you know what this Ark thing is?’
Loy debated, but if she refused to share her information, no doubt Ammadin would do the same. ‘Yes, I do.’ She thought for a moment – how was she going to describe an artificial intelligence unit in magical terms, when she truly didn’t understand what artificial intelligence was? ‘Or I sort of know. There are two things that have that name, you see. You can find an ark in every synagogue, a kind of box where they store their holy books.’
‘That’s not the one Soutan wants, then.’
‘True. The other one is an ancient artifact. It’s sort of a magical box that can answer questions. But it also steered the magic ship somehow. I don’t really understand it.’
‘Huh. Interesting. I wonder if it really exists?’
‘None of us knows that, either. How do you – you must be able to speak with them, the Chof, I mean.’
‘Not all of them, no. But I’ve spoken with one of the true Chiri Michi. Her name is Water Woman, and she has spirit crystals. We’ve spoken through them, and I’ve met her as well.’
Despite the warm ro
om and the wine, Loy felt phantom ice slide down her back. The disaster was already happening, Kazraks or no Kazraks.
‘How did she get the crystals?’ Loy said. ‘If you don’t mind telling me, that is. I don’t want to break Bane.’
‘Not Bane at all, but it’s like you and the Ark – I don’t know very much. She told me that some years ago, a great mother found a cave with a stone woman in it. The stone woman – her name is Sibyl – showed the Chof how to use the magic she had with her in her cave.’ Ammadin frowned at her own words. ‘I know that sounds ridiculous, but it’s what Water Woman told me.’
‘I wish I could meet her.’
‘I can ask her about that. You must have crystals of your own, after all. Maybe she’ll talk with you, too. She really does want to communicate with us, the H’mai, that is, especially about the Canton Wars.’
Loy felt as if the room had suddenly expanded, that she was sitting in the middle of an immense space with wonderful possibilities opening all around her. Frightening, yes, but exhilarating as well – her hands were shaking so badly that she set her glass down onto the table before she spilled the wine.
‘It’s a challenge, talking with Water Woman,’ Ammadin said with a laugh. ‘She says that Sibyl taught her the spirit language, but she’s got her own way of using it.’
‘I don’t mind a little hard work. To find the truth about the Wars – that’s been one of my dreams since I was a kid. But this Sibyl and her cave, with magicks in it – do you think it’s true?’
‘Well, Water Woman got this from somewhere.’ Ammadin picked up her saddlebags from the table, unlaced one, and brought out a lightwand. ‘It works. I’ve used it.’
‘Oh my god! Do you know – no, of course you don’t. That’s a really old design, an ancient design, and it looks brand new. Could I –’ When she held out a hand, Ammadin gave her the stick. Loy ran her fingers down it, turned it this way and that, and finally, on the very tip, found the stamp she was looking for, an embossed spiral below a capital letter R. ‘It is old. Like, eight hundred years old.’
‘Eight hundred years? Is that when we all came here?’
‘Yes.’ Reluctantly Loy gave the lightwand back. She would have loved to have shown it to Master Zhoc. ‘Water Woman gave it to you?’
‘She said it was a present from Sibyl, to be honest. She was just delivering it. She did tell me that Sibyl had a lot of magic.’ Ammadin thought for a moment. ‘Crates of it, I think she said. Hundreds of crystals, anyway.’
‘Why did Sibyl send you a gift?’
‘She wants me to come visit her, so she can persuade me to help her get rid of Soutan.’
‘She sounds like my kind of woman, Sibyl. But did Water Woman say – I’m sorry. Now I’m the one asking too many questions.’ Abruptly Loy remembered Hassan and turned to him. ‘This must all sound very strange to you.’
‘I haven’t understood a word,’ Hassan said. ‘Do you realize that you both slipped into the spirit language?’
‘Slipped?’ Ammadin said in Vranz. ‘I did it on purpose.’
‘Damn you, Ammi!’ Hassan sounded more weary than angry, much to Loy’s relief.
‘Well, we’re discussing my quest.’ Ammadin reached down and ran a hand through his hair, soothing him like a shen. ‘It’s not Bane to discuss a quest with another sorcerer, but you couldn’t listen without breaking it.’
‘In that case.’ Hassan smiled at her, but Loy half-expected to see fangs when he did so. ‘Still, I suppose sorcerers have a lot to talk about when they meet.’
‘Especially these two sorcerers.’ Loy remembered her wine, took the glass and had a soothing mouthful. ‘Do you think Water Woman would talk to me?’
‘I don’t know,’ Ammadin answered in Tekspeak. ‘I’m surprised you want to talk to her. I thought the Cantonneurs hated the Chof.’
‘Because of N’Dosha, you mean?’
‘Yes, just that.’
‘We hold grudges, yes. My people are very good at grudges, unfortunately. But we also know how to let one go when it’s to our advantage. Some of us have forgotten that the Chof are the indigenous species, not us, but I try to keep it in mind.’
‘Then the next time the Riders pass over, I’ll see if I can reach Water Woman. Sometimes I can, sometimes I can’t.’ Ammadin frowned into her wine glass. ‘Sometimes I can see her in the crystals, too, and sometimes I can’t. I know she’s not hiding from me, though.’
‘That’s odd. She must be inside somewhere.’
‘Well, you’d think so, but where? She’s travelling through the Cantons, but she can’t go anywhere near H’mai settlements.’
‘I see what you mean. That is puzzling.’
‘But when we do talk, I’ll ask her about you.’
‘Thanks.’
For a moment they drank in silence.
‘You know, I just thought of something,’ Loy switched to Vranz. ‘I wonder if maybe you could help me? It’s about Rozi, my daughter. I think you spirit riders call it “loss of soul”, the way she’s been acting. It’s as if she’s really weary of life, and afraid all the time, and here she is, only eighteen.’
‘That’s horrible, and horribly sad. I don’t know if I can cure it, but I could at least meet her.’
‘Could you come see her this evening? She’s in a sort of school during the day.’ Loy paused, thinking of terms Ammadin could understand. ‘She’s training to be a priestess of our god.’
‘Well, that’s impressive. Yes, certainly. Tonight will be fine. Where shall we meet you?’
‘Did you see the big white dome near the river? Near where the Recallers performed?’
‘It would be hard not to see it.’
‘True. Could you meet me there just before sunset? Out by the front of the dome there’s a fence with a wood bench nearby. I’ll be there.’
Loy was several blocks away before she remembered one particular thing Ammadin had said. Eight hundred years ago? Was that when we all came here? Oh my god, Loy thought. How does she know that? She suddenly realized that the Landfall Treaty stood in danger from more than the Kazraks. Technically she should report this break in the dam of myths to Master Zhoc. As she walked on, she was considering her duty to the Loremasters Guild as opposed to her duty to the truths of history.
As Ammadin was showing Loy out, Zayn hauled himself off the floor. He put his glass and the wine bottle on the table, then flopped into the other chair and stretched his legs out under the table. Ammadin came back, hands on her hips, and considered him.
‘I’m sorry I snapped at you,’ she said. ‘But you were going to ask about your Jezro Khan, weren’t you?’
‘Yes.’ He hesitated, then realized that he was no longer angry. ‘It doesn’t much matter. I bet that I’ll find Jezro where Soutan is, well, if they don’t leave Burgunee before I get there.’
‘Did you want to leave tonight? Your horse should be rested.’
‘No, no, that’s not what I meant.’
‘You don’t really want to catch up with him, do you?’
‘It’s not that.’ Zayn paused to finish the wine in his glass. ‘I don’t want to leave you.’
‘You’ve got to.’
‘I know that. For God’s sake, Ammi!’
She looked at him, sadly but distantly, or so he read her expression. Continuing on in this vein, he realized, would bring him nothing but sorrow.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said instead.
‘Don’t keep apologizing for everything, will you?’ She paused, then spoke more calmly. ‘I’ve been worrying about Soutan scanning you out, but Loy tells me that there’s a device you can carry that will hide you from his crystals. She’s going to give you one.’
‘That’s good of her.’
‘She really hopes you’ll kill him, you know.’
‘Tell her not to worry. I intend to do my best. I’ll remember Aggnavvachur in my nightmares as long as I live.’
Ammadin sat down in the other chair. She picked up her wine
glass and had a modest sip.
‘What did you think of the Recallers?’ Zayn said.
‘The players, or the real ones?’
‘You stayed long enough to hear about the real ones, then.’
‘About the people like you, yes.’
‘The people like me. How calmly you say that, Ammi! My God. Oh my God!’ Zayn leaned back in the chair and contemplated the far wall. ‘It makes me sick to my guts, thinking about it. I’m just like a horse from some fancy breed, right? Bred to remember everything I saw or heard, just in case the breeders needed my memories some day.’
‘I don’t understand why you’re so upset. I’m probably the same. So? It all happened hundreds of years ago, and it’s not like they meddled with us somehow, not with you and me as people. We’re just throwbacks.’
‘But –’ He stopped, thought, considered her for a moment. ‘What do you mean, you’re probably the same?’
‘Well, I can see in the dark. Most people can’t. I hear spirit voices. Most people can’t. I can smell when someone’s lying or angry. How many other people can do that? Every spirit rider has silver eyes. Where do they come from?’
Zayn could barely believe that she was as calm as she looked and sounded. ‘I see what you mean,’ he said. ‘You were lucky, though. You were born out on the grass.’
‘Oh yes. My mother and father couldn’t have been happier. Their child – a spirit rider! They ran around bragging to anyone who’d listen. They still do, come to think of it.’ She smiled, then let the smile fade. ‘For you, well, we know how different it was.’
Zayn nodded, picked up the wine bottle, and refilled his glass. ‘But that’s not why I feel so sick, thinking about it,’ he said at length. ‘Not the way my father treated me, I mean. I don’t know why. Maybe I hate thinking that I am what I am because someone thought I’d come in handy.’
‘Better than thinking Iblis was your grandfather, isn’t it?’
At that he had to laugh. ‘All right, yes, better than that. But it still gripes me. I mean, suppose the Ancestors had done this to everyone. Given everyone some kind of weird talents or strengths or something. Then it would have been –’ he hesitated, found the word at last. ‘It would have been fair. But the play this afternoon, it made it clear that most people were just people. And they used the rest of us like we’d use a riding horse. We were useful, Ammi. Tools. Machines.’ Zayn drank half the wine straight off.