Last of the Wilds

  What if it is poisoned? she thought. She looked at the man suspiciously. He smiled and murmured more strange words. Trying to reassure her.

  What does it matter? she thought. If I don’t eat, I’ll die anyway.

  She took the morsel and put it into her mouth. It tasted wonderful. She swallowed and a deep relief spread through her body.

  The landwalker offered her more, piece by piece, then set the tray aside. She was still hungry, yet her stomach felt too…busy…for much more. He moved closer. She felt a stab of fear as he kneeled in the water beside her. He spoke earnestly, then glanced over his shoulder at the closed metal gate of the room. Turning back, he stared into her eyes and spoke again. This time his voice was quiet, but strong with emotion. She recognized anger, but knew it was not directed at her. He gestured at the room. He pointed at her, then himself, then waggled his fingers like two pairs of walking legs.

  The meaning swept over her like a current of cool water. He was going to rescue her.

  She felt tears come to her eyes. Overwhelmed with gratitude, she threw her arms around him and began to sob. At last. He might not be her father, but he was going to rescue her. She felt hands patting her back like her father did when she was hurt or upset. The thought brought more tears.

  Then she felt his back stiffen, and he gently pushed her away. She wiped tears from her eyes. As her sight cleared she saw a figure standing outside the metal gate, and her blood went cold.

  It was the landwalker who had put her here, and he was scowling.

  Had he heard the nice landwalker talking of rescuing her? She searched the nice landwalker’s face. He patted her gently on the shoulder and gestured at the tray, inviting her to eat more, then he turned to face her captor. They exchanged words. The nice landwalker climbed out of the pool and walked to the gate.

  They exchanged more words. She could hear the restrained anger in their voices. Lying down in the water, she felt her hopes begin to shrivel up as the two men’s voices rose in what was clearly going to be an argument.

  Thunder grumbled ominously in the distance as Auraya, Speaker Sirri and the other Siyee landed in the Open. They were welcomed by an anxious crowd, including the Speakers and tribe representatives who had stayed behind.

  “The Pentadrians are leaving,” Sirri announced. Whistles and cheers followed and she had to raise her voice to be heard over the noise. “They claim to have entered Si in order to make peace with us, but Auraya saw in their minds their true intent. They wished only to persuade us to worship their gods. We have sent them away.”

  “How can we be sure they will not turn back and attack us?” a Speaker asked.

  “We can’t,” Sirri answered. “We have scouts watching them. We are as prepared to deal with an attack now as before, except we now have Auraya’s help.”

  Auraya managed to avoid frowning at this. Now that the Pentadrians appeared to be leaving would Juran want her to return to Jarime? As the Speakers crowded around she leaned closer to Sirri.

  “They’ll want the whole story,” she murmured to Sirri, “but you, Iriz and Tyzi are exhausted. Why not suggest we gather later tonight to tell the tale over dinner?”

  Sirri glanced at her and smiled crookedly. “Good idea,” she said out of the corner of her mouth. “It has been a long journey,” she said to the crowd. “For now, I think my fellow travellers would appreciate some time to rest and refresh themselves. Shall we meet again after dinner, in the Speakers’ Bower?”

  The tribal leaders nodded and murmured agreement. Auraya sensed a wave of relief from Iriz.

  “We will speak to you then,” Sirri finished.

  The crowd began to disperse. As Auraya started toward her bower Sirri joined her.

  “I feel like I could sleep for a week,” Sirri admitted when they were out of the crowd. “I’m not used to travelling long distances. My position keeps me here.” She paused. “Despite that, I doubt I’ll sleep at all.”

  “I wouldn’t sleep well if my son was leading the scouts watching the Pentadrians. However, Sreil is a sensible young man. He will not take any risks.”

  Sirri looked at Auraya anxiously. “Do you think the Pentadrians will leave?”

  Auraya shook her head. “I can’t be sure. I caught a mind conversation between the leader and her superior. His orders were to leave, but he did warn her that his orders might change. I do not think it likely. I doubt they’d start another war by attacking Siyee, but I would not dismiss the possibility completely.”

  Sirri sighed. “I don’t like that we won’t know of an attack for days.”

  Auraya nodded. “I don’t like it either.”

  “The sooner we have priests and priestesses the better.”

  “Yes.”

  They had arrived outside Auraya’s bower.

  “Do try to rest at least,” Auraya told the Siyee leader gently. “Even if you have to slip away to a hiding place to get some peace.”

  Sirri chuckled. “Might have to.” She glanced around. There were few Siyee around. “Yes. That’s another good idea. I’ll see you after dinner.”

  Auraya smiled as Sirri strode away, heading deeper into the forest. She pushed past the hanging of her bower and stepped inside. As she moved toward the seats in the center of the room she focused her mind on her ring.

  :Jur—

  Something fell onto her shoulders. She jumped, then gasped in relief as a high voice spoke uncomfortably close to her ear.

  “Owaya! Owaya! Owaya!”

  “Yes, Mischief,” she said, unwinding him from around her neck. “I’m back. I’m alive and safe.” He clutched her arm, whiskers quivering. “And, yes, I’d like to play with you, but right now I need to talk to Juran.”

  As she sat down he let go of her and curled up in her lap. Taking a deep breath, she sought Juran’s mind again.

  :Auraya? I thought that was you.

  :Yes. I have just reached the Open. Juran had watched the confrontation telepathically. I thought about what I learned there all the way back. Are you free to discuss it?

  :Yes. So what were you thinking?

  :This woman we met believes her superior—Nekaun—is the leader of the Pentadrians. They have elected a replacement for Kuar already.

  :It appears so, Juran agreed. Either the Pentadrians breed powerful sorcerers at a frightening rate, or they have elected a less powerful sorcerer in order to regain their people’s confidence.

  :The latter does seem more likely. These Pentadrians were sent to Si to befriend the Siyee in order to turn them from the Circle of Gods to their own five gods. Would he have sent similar groups to other Ithanian lands for the same purpose?

  :It is possible. We will have to be watchful.

  :I would say they had little chance of success if I was sure the Pentadrian gods did not exist. Have the gods discovered anything more?

  :They have not spoken of it. What of Chaia? Is he still “chatting” with you?

  :Yes. He has said nothing on the subject, however.

  :Have you asked him?

  :Yes, but he is remarkably good at ignoring questions he doesn’t want to answer.

  :He would tell you if he could.

  :Do you think so? He can be a frustrating companion at times.

  :You are fortunate that he favors you with his presence so often. He regards you highly, Auraya. Enjoy it; it may not last forever.

  She winced. Was she being ungrateful? She couldn’t reveal the reason she found Chaia’s visits so…so…She could not think of a word to describe the mix of annoyance and curiosity she felt.

  It’s all very well for Juran to tell me to enjoy Chaia’s visits. He’s probably never had a god murmuring seductively in his ear before, she thought. Then she frowned. Or has he? She shook her head. Get back to the subject, she told herself.

  :I would like to stay here until we are sure the Pentadrians have left Si.

  :Yes, you should.

  She sighed with relief. After his earlier resistance to her going t
o the Siyee’s aid she had expected him to order her back to Jarime.

  :I will return when they are gone.

  As she drew back from Juran’s mind, she paused to scratch Mischief. She should see how Danjin was faring next. Something in the room had changed, however. Just as she realized what it was, a voice spoke in her mind.

  :Danjin is busy, Chaia said. And as you said yesterday, work comes before play. You have done enough for now—or are you going to work without pause for the rest of eternity?

  Auraya smiled.

  :Not unless you want me to.

  :That was never my intention. Our Chosen ones ought to enjoy themselves from time to time. Even better if we enjoy each other’s company.

  She felt a fleeting touch of magic on her shoulder. It sent a shiver down her spine. It was impossible not to think of the potential such sensations might have if they were stronger, or if they roamed from her neck to other places…

  :You need only ask, and I will show you.

  She thought of Juran’s words. You are fortunate that he favors you…Enjoy it; it may not last forever.

  But he could not have meant this.

  :No, but he is right about one thing: I do favor you as no other.

  An invisible finger touched her lip and slowly traced a line down her neck and chest to her stomach…then faded away. She found she was breathing quickly.

  A god, she thought. Why not? Am I resisting just because I don’t want to attract another inappropriate lover?

  :Not inappropriate, Chaia corrected. Unusual, perhaps, but nothing to be ashamed of.

  Not like Leiard, she thought. But still…complicated.

  :Not as complicated as you fear. I will not run away from you as he did, Auraya.

  She felt his touch on her shoulders and closed her eyes.

  :Send him to the past to be a memory you can look back on fondly, Chaia whispered.

  His invisible fingers ran down the sides of her breasts.

  :Come with me into that place between dreaming and waking…

  She felt his mouth against hers. At first it was the faint touch of magic, but it became something more tangible as she sank into the dream trance.

  :…and begin a new time with me.

  :Yes, she whispered, reaching for the luminous figure before her. Show me how it could be.

  A wave of pleasure more intense than she had ever experienced swept over her.

  24

  Reivan yawned as she pulled out the chair behind her desk. She’d stayed up late helping Imenja access a trade agreement and now she was late starting her duties of the morning. A nagging headache remained from the previous day and the constant whine of the dust storm outside—which had been blowing for days—was beginning to annoy her.

  Becoming a full Servant might have ended her training, but the time she’d spent in lessons was quickly taken up by new duties. Imenja had given her more responsibilities. She now organized Imenja’s schedule. This involved interviewing people who wanted an audience with the Second Voice and deciding if their purpose, or status, was important enough to allow a meeting to take place.

  She was given a room near the front of the Sanctuary in which to interview these people. It had two entrances: a public and a private one. The private one allowed her to come and go without being accosted by the people waiting outside the public one.

  She had also been given an assistant, Servant Kikarn. He was an ugly man, so skinny he looked perpetually stern, but she was discovering that he had a sharp wit and intelligence. As she sat down he placed a particularly long list on her table and she suppressed a groan. The corridor must be crowded today, she thought wryly.

  “What did the wind blow in this morning?”

  Kikarn chuckled. “Everything from gold dust to litter,” he replied. “The merchant Ario wishes to bribe—er, give the Second Voice a large donation.”

  “How much?”

  “Enough to build a new Temple.”

  “Impressive. What does he want in return?”

  “Nothing, of course.”

  She smiled. “We’ll see. What else?”

  “A woman who was a palace domestic in Kave claims the High Chieftain’s wife has taken to worshipping a dead god. She says she has proof.”

  “She must be sure of it, or she wouldn’t approach Second Voice Imenja.”

  “Unless she is ignorant of the Voices’ mind-reading skills.”

  “We shall see.” She looked down the list and stopped at a familiar name. “Thinker Kuerres?”

  “He is here to see you.”

  “Not Imenja?”

  “No.”

  “What does he want?”

  “He won’t say, but he insists that it’s an urgent matter. Someone’s life may depend on it.”

  Someone’s life would have to be at stake before the Thinkers deigned to speak to me again, she mused.

  “And the others.”

  “Not as important as the first two.”

  “The first two will take some time. Send Kuerres in. I’ve never known him to exaggerate or lie. Most likely they want to know what I did with my books and instruments.”

  Kikarn bowed his head. As he moved to the door she considered what she knew of Kuerres. He was one of the quieter Thinkers. He’d never been unkind to her, though he hadn’t paid much attention to her either. She frowned as she searched her memory for facts that might prove useful. He had a family. He kept a menagerie of exotic animals.

  That was all she could remember. She recognized the middle-aged man who entered the room, but his manner was nothing like she remembered. He glanced around the room nervously, his face pale and his hands clasped together.

  “Thinker Kuerres,” she said. “It is good to see you again. Sit down.”

  “Servant Reivan,” he said, tracing a star over his chest. He eyed Kikarn, then stepped forward and dropped into the chair.

  “What brings you to the Sanctuary?” she asked.

  “I…I have a crime to report.”

  She paused. She’d assumed he was nervous about being in the Sanctuary and talking to people of importance. Now she began to wonder if he’d got himself into some kind of trouble.

  “Go on,” she said.

  He took a deep breath. “We—the Thinkers—were approached by a trader yesterday. A rich trader who wanted information and was willing to pay generously for it.” Kuerres paused and met her eyes. “He wanted to know about the Elai.”

  “The sea people? Some of the Thinkers don’t even believe they exist.”

  “Yes. We told him all we knew, but he wasn’t satisfied. He asked if any of us knew much about keeping wild animals and I offered my services.”

  Reivan smiled. “Let me guess: he’d bought some kind of large, strange sea creature and thought it might be the origin of the legend?”

  Kuerres shook his head. “Rather the opposite. I offered to help him. I was curious. He took me to his home. What I found there was…” he shuddered “…horrible. A sick, frightened child—but a child like none I’ve ever seen before. Thick black skin. Entirely hairless. Large hands and feet with webbing between fingers and toes.”

  “Feet? No fish tail?”

  “No fish tail. No gills either. But definitely a…a being of the water. I have no doubt this child is one of the Elai.”

  Reivan felt a thrill of excitement, but suppressed it out of habit. Thinkers did not allow their reason to be overtaken by emotion. It was too easy to convince oneself of something if one wanted to badly enough.

  “Did this merchant say where he found her?”

  “No. He complained that she’d cost a fortune and talked about her like she was an animal.” He shook his head in disgust. “She is no animal. She is a human. He is breaking our laws by buying and keeping her.”

  “Enslaving an innocent.” She nodded. “Who is this trader?”

  His nose wrinkled. “Devlem Wheelmaker. He is a Genrian. He changed his name before the war.”

  Reivan nodded.
“I know of him. I will bring this to the Second Voice’s attention later today and I’m sure she will have someone—”

  “You have to do something now!” he interrupted. “I’m sure he suspects that I will report him. He might get rid of her—kill her—before you get there!”

  He stared at her earnestly, obviously deeply concerned for the safely of this sea girl. Reivan pressed her palms together and considered.

  If the merchant believed the child was an animal he would reason that he hadn’t committed any crime. Nevertheless, he wouldn’t take the risk that others would come to the same conclusion as Kuerres. The punishment for enslaving an innocent was to be enslaved. He’ll either kill her or move her somewhere else, depending on how much she cost him. Either way, the faster we act, the more likely it is we will find the girl before he does anything to her.

  But leaving the Sanctuary to rescue a child wasn’t part of her duties, and she didn’t have the authority to search the man’s property. She needed Imenja’s help. Was this important enough to interrupt the Second Voice?

  Am I simply curious to know if this child is an Elai?

  Whether she is an Elai or not, she is being kept like an animal. Imenja will want to do something about that.

  Taking a deep breath, she placed a hand on the pendant and closed her eyes.

  :Imenja?

  She waited, then called again. Not having much Skill in the use of magic, it often took several attempts before she managed to get the pendant to work. Finally an answer came.

  :Is that you, Reivan?

  :It is.

  :Good morning. What has you calling me so early?

  :A report of a crime.

  :Tell me.

  She related Kuerres’s story of the sea girl.

  :That is appalling. You must free her. If the girl is not there, bring the merchant to me. I will read her location from his mind.

  :I will. I think I may need assistance.

  :Yes. Take Kikarn. Contact me as soon as you find her.

  :I will.

  Opening her eyes, Reivan found Kuerres staring at her. She smothered a smile at his curiosity.

  “We will deal with this right away,” she told him. Servant Kikarn made a small noise of protest. She guessed he was thinking of the visitors still waiting to be seen. “Servant Kikarn. Tell the Dekkan domestic to wait until I return but let the others know I have urgent and unexpected business to attend to and will see to them tomorrow morning. Assure Ario he will be first.”