Last of the Wilds

  The king’s eyebrows rose. “Yes?”

  “Certain of my people at home have expressed concern that your people might seek to rob traders, either by waiting until raiders have attacked merchant ships before attacking the raiders themselves, or by attacking traders directly. I have assured them that you will not, but they want your promise on this.”

  “They have my word that any of my warriors found to be indulging in such practices will be punished.”

  Imenja bowed her head in acknowledgment. “Change ‘warrior’ to ‘Elai’ and specify the punishment and they will be satisfied. And also note that, if we discover your people have begun preying upon non-raiders in this manner, this treaty will be considered broken by my people.”

  The king nodded. “That is reasonable.”

  Imenja held his eyes. “I will learn of it,” she told him. “In the same way I learned that the merchant who bought Imi from the raiders was guilty, and your warriors were following my ship, and that there is a second entrance to your city, where watchers keep a lookout for raiders. What I cannot see with the Skills the gods have given me, they tell me of themselves. I will know if your people turn into thieves.”

  The king’s frown slowly faded as he realized what she was saying. He turned to Imi, who suddenly looked a little frightened. The girl straightened.

  “I told you she was a sorcerer,” Imi said to her father.

  “But you didn’t know this,” he muttered.

  She shook her head.

  The king turned back to Imenja and narrowed his eyes. “How do I know you won’t return with more ships and take my city?”

  Imenja smiled. “I have no interest in taking your city. Not only is it too great a distance from my home, but what use would an underground city the size of an Avven village be to us? I can see the value of trade, and of keeping these seas safe for it.

  “We both have taken a risk in doing this,” she continued. “For you, it is trusting that we have no interest in harming your people. For us, it is that you won’t turn what we teach you to ill use. I think it worth the risk.”

  The king nodded. “I had my doubts. I admit I still have them. But my people cannot remain as they are, and they are willing to take this risk.”

  He turned to the man behind him. Reivan saw that one of the stone slabs was covered in Elai writing. “Bring them forth and we shall watch you carve our words into promises.” He looked at Imenja. “We will set down our treaty in both languages.”

  “And in the manner of both peoples,” Imenja agreed. She glanced at Reivan. Nodding at the unspoken order, Reivan opened the oilskin bag and drew out parchment, ink and a board to write against.

  “That will never survive the water,” the Elai scribe murmured.

  Reivan smiled and drew out a message tube, oilskin wrapping, wax and a coil of rope. “Yes it will,” she assured him.

  He looked unconvinced. With a shrug, Reivan settled cross-legged on the sand and began to write.

  Between Mirar and the thin spread of trees at the edge of the forest was a smooth, steep blanket of snow. The easiest way to descend would be to cross back and forth, he decided. Going straight down would make it hard to keep his footing.

  Would that be such a bad thing? he asked himself. It might be faster to slide. He looked at the trees below. Though smaller than those deep within the forest, their trunks were just as hard. Sliding out of control and in a flurry of snow, he might not get a clear view of his path. He might not see a tree in time to use magic to stop himself crashing into it.

  Yes, he told himself. That would be a bad thing.

  Looking back up at the mountain, he sighed. Few times in his long life had he ventured into such high, inhospitable places, and always in the company of others. The views had been breathtaking, but the way had been treacherous in places. It had taken mere brute magical force to get out of the buried cave, but avoiding falling into snow-covered crevasses had been a much greater challenge.

  Starting out across the open slope, he moved slowly. The snow was lightly packed but not deep. It cascaded down the slope at each step. Halfway across, he paused to look around.

  After a moment he realized he was still moving. The whole slope was moving.

  His heart skipped a beat then began to race. The smooth surface began to ruck and ripple. The instinct to flee turned him around and sent him hurrying back, but his path was all but obscured as snow above it folded over the snow below.

  It tangled his legs. He struggled to stay upright and failed. As he landed on his side and began to slide, snow swept over him like breaking waves.

  Don’t panic, he told himself. It’ll just carry me to the bottom. The only danger is suffocation and those trees below.

  Drawing magic, he surrounded himself with a barrier, adding extra space around his face so he could breathe. He felt himself hurtling downward. Then his descent abruptly slowed and he stopped. Snow covered him. The weight of it against his barrier grew.

  I’m being buried.

  Memories of being crushed flashed into his mind. From somewhere deep within a terror began to rise. He fought it, forcing himself to breathe slowly. The pressure on his barrier felt powerful enough to crush him. If he lost concentration for one moment the barrier would fall and…

  Why not let it?

  A numbness began to replace fear.

  Why not let go of this life? Find out what’s beyond. The gods’ servants might find and kill you in a few weeks, when you reach the coast. Why let them do the deed? Die here and deny them the satisfaction. Imagine how they will always wonder where you got to…

  The cold of the snow was nothing compared to this empty despair.

  What’s there to live for? My people are dwindling, and I can’t let them know me without endangering their lives. The woman I love is as far from my reach as any could be. This is the Age of the Five, and I have no place in it. I should just…

  “Stop being so bloody melodramatic,” he said aloud.

  Closing his eyes, he pulled a great stream of magic into himself, then channelled it. There was a dull boom. The whiteness above him flew upward and fragmented to all sides. As it pattered down around him he sat up and looked at his surroundings.

  He now lay in the middle of a large crater. Standing up, he climbed one side of it and turned back to regard his handiwork. The hole was quite impressive. He smiled.

  Then a shadow streaked past his own and his smile faded. Looking up, he glimpsed two Siyee gliding away.

  Sighing, he turned away and began trudging toward the forest.

  49

  Auraya stopped and looked up at the Altar. The five sides were upright, closed to the world. Scenes from the day played through her mind.

  Mischief had announced her return, somehow slipping out of her room to find Mairae’s veez, Stardust. Soon after, she had been summoned to Juran’s room. Mairae had been there, with both veez.

  “Why didn’t you tell us you had arrived?” Juran had asked.

  “I expected the gods would tell you when I arrived. I was surprised you weren’t there to meet me.” She shrugged. “It was late and I decided not to wake anyone.”

  He had nodded at that. “I want you to tell me everything that happened, from the moment you first discovered Mirar, as Leiard, was in Si.”

  So she had related everything. It had taken some hours. She was interrupted from time to time with questions from the other White. Dyara and Rian were listening through a link to Juran.

  When she finally finished, Juran had spoken of the gods’ punishment and asked if she was willing to accept it.

  “For myself, I am,” she had told him. “But I find it hard to accept that the Siyee are being punished for my actions.”

  :You should have thought of the possible consequences to the Siyee before you disobeyed the gods, Dyara had said.

  “I would never have guessed the gods would be so, so…would make such a decision,” Auraya answered.

  :You still question th
e gods’ wisdom, Rian said.

  “Yes,” she replied. He had made several such lofty comments. “If the ability to question was not a requirement of being a White, the gods would not have chosen me. And it certainly would have reduced the candidates at Choosing Ceremonies.”

  Auraya remembered seeing Mairae smile at that, but when Juran had turned in her direction she had schooled her expression to one of stern disapproval. That was when I realized they all felt they must behave as if I were a disgraced child. That they must quash any sympathy they felt, whether for me or for my decisions.

  :Those worthy of serving the gods are few, Rian had said next.

  She had winced at that. I know I have been a fool, she thought. I don’t regret it, since the only other option was to be a hypocrite and a murderer. I only wish being a fool hadn’t had such an impact on the Siyee. I would do anything to make up for that.

  Juran had stepped in then, saying that they should endeavor to cooperate and avoid unnecessary conflict. That matters should return to how they had been before. Mairae had looked at him with an expression of sadness and pity.

  “I doubt matters will ever be the way they were before,” she had murmured.

  Auraya wondered who Mairae had been referring to. Herself, perhaps? Had the gods’ decisions caused another White to question? Or was Mairae referring to all the White? Or just me.

  She obviously wasn’t referring to the Siyee. Nobody seemed at all concerned about the sky people. When Juran had finally ushered Auraya from his room, she had turned back and asked him if he wanted to learn Mirar’s healing Gift. He had shaken his head as if the idea appalled him.

  A faint sigh of air drew Auraya’s attention back to the Altar. The five sides were beginning to hinge open. She felt her heart stop, then begin racing.

  I am about to take an enormous risk, she thought. I might lose everything. But as Mairae had said, matters would never be the same. I have already lost a great deal. If I lose the rest, I’ll just have to accept that.

  Hurried footsteps echoed in the Dome. She turned to see Juran and Mairae striding toward her. Turning away, Auraya walked up to the Altar’s table and sat in her chair.

  “What have you called us here for?” Juran demanded as he reached the Altar.

  “I have a question to ask the gods,” she replied, meeting his eyes. “One that you may wish to hear the answer to.”

  He stared at her, clearly annoyed that she had called a meeting without consulting him first. “Which is?”

  “You will hear it just as soon as you begin the rite, and the gods appear.”

  He hesitated, then Mairae put a hand on his shoulder.

  “Go on. I doubt we’ll get it out of her any other way.”

  Sighing, Juran took his place. Mairae slid gracefully into her chair, her eyes aglow with curiosity.

  “You’re certainly keeping us entertained, Auraya,” she said approvingly, in a near whisper.

  Auraya managed a smile. She looked at Juran expectantly. He sighed again, then closed his eyes.

  “Chaia, Huan, Lore, Yranna, Saru,” he intoned. “Once again, we thank you for the peace you brought to Northern Ithania and the Gifts that have allowed us to keep it. We thank you for your wisdom and guidance.”

  “We thank you,” Auraya murmured along with Mairae. She concentrated on the magic around the Altar, but felt no sign of the gods.

  “Auraya wishes to ask of you a question. If you will allow her an answer, please appear before us.”

  “Guide us,” she murmured.

  Juran opened his eyes and leaned back in his chair. Meeting his gaze, she saw disbelief in them. He did not expect the gods to respond. But as she stared back at him she felt presences at the edge of her senses. They moved toward her.

  Five glowing figures slowly appeared around the Altar. Chaia appeared beside Juran. He looked at her and smiled, but then his smile faded as he saw what was in her mind.

  :What is your question, Auraya?

  Huan had spoken. Auraya felt a sudden trepidation. This was the goddess she had defied. This was also the one who demanded unquestioning obedience.

  Forcing herself to face Huan, Auraya gathered her courage.

  “Will you allow me to resign from my position as White?”

  Juran gasped and Mairae drew in a sharp breath.

  “No, Auraya!” Juran said. “That is not necessary.”

  “We were all a bit harsh on you today. You can’t take Rian too seriously,” Mairae added.

  Auraya kept her gaze on Huan. The goddess’s eyes narrowed.

  :Where will you go?

  “To Si.”

  Huan looked at her fellow gods.

  :We must discuss it. Remain here.

  The five figures vanished. Auraya drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  “Auraya,” Juran said sternly. “You said you would accept the gods’ punishment.”

  She turned to stare at him. “And I have. But I cannot accept their abandonment of the Siyee.”

  He frowned. “Are they worth giving up your position, your immortality—your power of flight? How can you help them without that?”

  “I will do what I can,” she told him. “I…” She shook her head. At the limits of her senses was a buzzing. Concentrating on it, she was surprised to find she could make out words.

  :…warned you this might happen, but you insisted on testing her again and again.

  It was Chaia, she realized. He was angry.

  :No more than we have tested the others, Huan replied.

  :After many years in service!

  :She was the last White. She was never going to have the luxury of time to get used to her role. Now we can find a more worthy replacement. What say the rest of us?

  :Agreed, Lore said.

  :Yes, Yranna added.

  :Give her what she wants, Saru agreed. Then we can get rid of her.

  :Only if she turns against us, Chaia corrected, his tone firm. I say we should keep Auraya a White.

  :You are out-voted, but we will let her go to Si. The shock of her resignation will be damaging enough, though knowing she left to help the Siyee will reduce the…Wait. She can hear us! Huan exclaimed.

  :I warned you. You know she can sense us when we’re close, Chaia said, perhaps a little smugly. Does this change your mind?

  :No, Huan said.

  The gods drew closer and moved into their positions around the table. Auraya realized she had been staring blankly at Juran, and looked away. The five gods reappeared.

  :We grant you your request, Huan said.

  :There are conditions, Chaia added. You must not seek to rule a land or people for yourself. If you set yourself against us or the White, or our work, or if you ally yourself with our enemies, you will be regarded as our enemy.

  “That is reasonable. I accept your conditions.”

  :Remove the ring.

  Auraya’s heart lurched again. She held out her hand, then slowly drew the white ring off her finger. Standing up, she turned to face Chaia.

  “Serving you has been the greatest joy and honor, but it is clear you need someone in this position more worthy of it. I do not wish to turn from you. You still have my respect and love, and I will continue to serve you as a priestess if that is acceptable to you.”

  Chaia looked at Huan.

  :That, as always, will be a decision for the White to make, he said.

  Huan’s eyes narrowed slightly. Auraya glanced at Juran, then looked down at the ring. Taking a deep breath, she placed it on the table. She felt nothing—no wrenching loss, no change at all. Taking a step back, she straightened and looked up at Juran again.

  He regarded the ring with a grim expression. Well he should, she thought. The White are vulnerable without a fifth member. But I’m sure the gods won’t leave them so for long. I doubt they’ll wait another twenty-five years to replace me.

  She looked at Mairae. To her surprise, the young woman smiled and nodded. There was a friendly respect in h
er eyes. She doubted the other White felt the same. Dyara and Rian were sure to be watching through Juran and Mairae. Dyara will be disappointed, Auraya thought. Rian, however, will be overjoyed.

  :Your decision cannot be reversed, Huan said. However, there is no need for you to remain in Jarime. You may return to Si.

  Auraya nodded and made the formal sign of the circle. “Thank you.”

  The gods vanished.

  Auraya paused, uncertain what to do or say next. Juran was still staring at the ring. Slowly he reached out and picked it up. His eyes rose to hers.

  “You sacrificed everything for the Siyee,” he stated.

  She smiled. “Yes.” She thought of Mirar’s belief that her Gift of flight was her own.

  “But maybe not everything,” Mairae said.

  Auraya looked at the woman in surprise.

  “I can read your mind now,” Mairae explained.

  “Of course.” Auraya shook her head. “I didn’t think of that.”

  “Well, are you going to try to fly?”

  Auraya looked at Mairae, then focused her mind on her sense of her position in the world. She could still feel it. Drawing magic, she lifted herself upward. Mairae gave a laugh of triumph.

  “Yes! You can still help the Siyee.”

  Relief rushed through Auraya and she found herself grinning. “I can reach them. All I have to find out now is whether I can still heal them.”

  “Then I guess you will be leaving as soon as possible,” Juran said. He looked tired. Auraya dropped to the ground again.

  “Yes. I only need to pick up Mischief and a few belongings.”

  He nodded, then stood up. “Take care of yourself, Auraya. I don’t need to tell you to avoid Pentadrian sorcerers. I…I must consult the others before deciding if you may remain a priestess.”

  “I understand.”

  “Drop by now and then, so we can catch up,” Mairae added.

  Auraya smiled. “You must both come to Si some time. Perhaps you could sail to the coast. I think you’d like it there.”

  Mairae looked at Juran. “We should make the effort.”

  He nodded, then led the way down the Altar to the Dome’s floor. “We should. And it may be of great advantage to us to have a priestess living in Si who can reach us quickly.”