Kingmaker

CHAPTER 25

  Their search for water led them to sand-covered stones, lone cacti in the valleys between two dunes, and patches of dry-caked mud buried under three inches of the yellow sand they crossed day in and day out.

  “I think I can feel water from farther away when we all chant together,” Butu commented to Blay as they made camp on the fourth night. “If you explain that, will it make it stop working?”

  Blay grunted as he pounded a tent stake into the powdery sand. “I don’t think so. I know when the blood priests perform the healing chant in groups, they can heal more serious injuries more quickly than if they were chanting alone. Maybe it’s something like that.”

  “Are you saying we’re becoming water priests?” Lujo asked with a smirk as he sat sharpening his sword nearby.

  Blay pulled the tent he shared with Tirud and Retus into position. “Maybe. The stories say that until Mnemon took Pisor away, only a king could make someone a blood priest, but that might have been political.”

  “How do Turu become blood priests now?” Retus asked, handing him a waterskin.

  Blay shrugged.

  “Then where do they come from?” Retus’s voice cracked.

  “That’s a carefully guarded secret,” Tirud said from their fire. “Which is why some clans don’t trust them — no matter how well they might treat the blood priests.”

  “I’ve heard the blood priests aren’t Turu at all,” Lujo said, staring at the fine pattern on his sword. “They’re like the golems that protect children, except they protect adults, instead. Kids just need golems to keep them safe, but adults need golems to keep track of the history and lineage of the Turun. The blood priests’ history scrolls also tell the story of all the events that haven’t happened and all the Turun that haven’t been born, yet, which is why they never teach anyone how to read the secret language they’re written in.”

  “Haven’t happened?” Nolen muttered, sharing a grin with Butu.

  “The blood priests taught me to read and write,” Jani said. “The children of all els and als learn history from those scrolls.”

  Lujo didn’t let it ruin his theory. “They only taught you enough so you could read about the past. You need to know their secret code in order to read about things that will happen in the future.”

  “Secret code?” Butu raised his eyebrows, and Nolen giggled.

  “I had to read and memorize all the histories, as a girl.”

  “The future might be written in the same place as the past,” Lujo persisted, “but the same words that mean one thing in the Turun language might mean something completely different in the blood priests’ code. That’s why you didn’t notice them.” He thought for a moment. “Either that or the blood priests’ magic made you forget the future. I hadn’t thought about that. Kids don’t find as many uses for magic as adults can think up, but adults who keep their magic would find hundreds of creative uses for it.”

  He just contradicted himself, Butu noted. Nolen chuckled into his hand, too.

  “Maybe if we keep practicing magic together, we’ll keep our magic, too,” Butu said. “Having to chant in groups is better than not being able to use magic at all.”

  Jani tossed her bedroll into the small tent she had to herself before joining them. Blay stood up, dusting his hands off.

  “If it was that easy, there’d be a lot more adults than just the blood priests who could work magic together,” Jani said. “Since there aren’t, I’m guessing there’s more to becoming water priests or sand priests or hide and seek priests or whatever than just practicing magic together as kids.”

  “Maybe it’s just that no one ever thought about it before,” Butu said casually. “Ever since I joined the sordenu, everyone keeps telling us that our magic is going to go away, so there’s no reason to practice using it.”

  She shook her head slightly.

  “There’s no harm in hoping,” Blay interrupted. “If you’re right, you’ll be the first of a new breed of Turun magic-user. If you’re wrong, it’s not like trying to hold onto your magic costs you anything, provided...”

  “As long as no one outside our squad knows,” Butu and Nolen said.

  “Exactly.”

  Tirud snorted from by the fire. Butu noted that Phedam and Retus had shown up, showing something to Tirud.

  “We should experiment,” Lujo said.

  “Experiment how?” Butu asked.

  “How about turning sand into glass? Nolen is slow but detailed, so we’ll say his chant with him. If it takes him less time, it means you’re probably right.”

  “Good idea.”

  “But after dinner,” Tirud said. “We’ve got a special treat tonight. Look what Retus caught for us.”

  “Is that a sand adder?” Lujo asked, squinting at the headless serpent in the dim light.

  “It most certainly is,” Blay said immediately before either of them could answer. Butu looked at it with interest. He had never examined a dead one before. Blay had warned them to watch out for the dull-scaled snakes. First-cyclers might laugh off the bite of a sand adder, but the poison could kill a full-grown man.

  “We spotted it on a rock at the edge of camp,” Phedam said. “I bet him he couldn’t hit it with his sling, but he proved me wrong.”

  “Is it safe to eat?” Butu asked. “I mean, its bite is poisonous, so maybe it’s not good to eat, either.”

  “Safe enough, as long as you don’t eat the poison sacs,” Nolen assured them. “The adults in Pophir eat them all the time.”

  They explained Lujo’s experiment over the dinner of snake adder, prepared by Tirud. The meat was gamey and dry, but a welcome change of pace as far as Butu was concerned.

  After they had eaten, Lujo, Nolen, Butu and Retus practiced making glasses out of the fine, dust-like sand of the central shanjin. Once they felt they had an idea of how long it took them to create a goblet, they recited Nolen’s chant together as the sordenu from Pophir held the sand. The results were less impressive than any of them had hoped. The glass wasn’t as beautiful as Nolen’s usually were and took longer to make than Lujo’s normally did.

  “We could have made two glasses in the same amount of time,” Nolen muttered after the first combined chant. “Even Butu would’ve been halfway to a new goblet.”

  “Not quite,” Lujo countered. “I can’t make glasses this complex, and you can’t make them this quickly.”

  “So what?” Nolen persisted. “It’s still three times the work for less than twice the effect.”

  “Let’s try again without Butu, this time,” Lujo suggested. “Retus, come here.”

  “Thanks, guys,” Butu said sarcastically, but he stepped aside, clapping Retus on the shoulder.

  “Sorry,” Nolen said.

  Lujo and Nolen began the chant anew. This time, the glass was much more elaborate, but it took just as long as Nolen working alone. They tried letting Retus hold the sand while the other two chanted, but the glass was lopsided and slow.

  “You sure you’re not thinking about what we’re trying to do?” Lujo asked him.

  “Concentrate on not concentrating on anything,” Nolen advised. They brought Butu back in, to do the same thing they’d asked Retus to do.

  They chanted until they were hoarse. They chanted until the sand did nothing, and came no closer to proving anything. Lujo finally tossed the handful of sand to the ground, grimacing.

  “The more you understand magic, the less it works for you,” Tirud reminded them from his spot by the fire.

  “Shut up,” Nolen snapped.

  Butu joined him. “Just because you’ve lost all your magic doesn’t mean we have to.”

  Tirud shrugged. “Adults have a different kind of magic, and it works the opposite way as yours.” He picked at a stone in his boot. “The more you understand it, the less it works on you. Ever wonder why the corporal keeps encouraging you to think about magic while we’re wandering in the shanjin? He doesn’t want you to get bored with the daily routine of looking f
or water and sleeping.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Butu demanded, tired. He wanted to think about what they had learned, not about what Tirud said.

  “Nothing, except the more you think about magic, the less you think about anything else. Such as why we’ve been going due south for the last three days when Tranugal is southwest of Jasper.”

  “No we’re not,” Lujo objected. “I would have noticed if we’d changed directions.”

  “Oh really? The way you would have noticed if we passed close to water that first night?”

  Lujo didn’t answer.

  “If we’re going the wrong way, it’s your fault,” Nolen said. “You’re the one who’s supposed to know how to get to where we’re going.”

  “You’re right, but my route is taking us to where we’re supposed to go. I guess that means where we’re going is different from where you think we’re going.”

  No one said anything.

  After a long moment of silence, Tirud smiled in triumph. “Look, here come Blay and Jani. Ask the corp where we’re really going.”

  Butu was surprised that he hadn’t felt their approach. He looked toward the camels where Blay and Jani checked their supplies. They were not, in fact, coming toward them, but while his head was turned, he felt Tirud walk away from the fire and toward his tent.

  Tirud is a ku, Butu reminded himself. He has not always been an Ahjea. Can we trust him not to betray his adopted clan the way he did his birth clan?

  “Where did he go?” Lujo growled when the rest of them realized the deception.

  “To his tent,” Butu said.

  “What’s his problem?”

  “I have no idea,” Nolen said severely. “But I mean to find out.”

  “Is that such a good idea?” Lujo asked. “Blay told us it wasn’t our affair.”

  “He doesn’t like it when we ask questions,” Retus said in a low voice. He looked nervously at the camels.

  “Don’t worry,” Butu told them. “I’m keeping watch.”

  Lujo breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Butu. Sorry the glass chant didn’t...”

  “Don’t mention it,” Butu said.

  “It’s kind of a dilemma, isn’t it?” Nolen said. “Here we have a corporal who lets us use magic as much as we want, even though every other adult tells us we should stop trying, and now we’re worried that he might be keeping some kind of secret from us.”

  “Do you think the blood priests’ magic works the way Tirud says, or do you think he just made that up?” Retus asked, and Butu couldn’t help but laugh.

  “You mean can blood priests use magic on each other or on themselves?” Nolen asked. “I’ve never heard otherwise, have you?”

  “Have you guys started?” Phedam called from the entrance of the tent he shared with Nolen. Butu felt him coming toward them through the darkness.

  “He’s right. We should practice magic while we still can,” Lujo said.

  Nolen gaped at him. “Are you saying you don’t care that Blay might be leading us all to disobey orders? You heard what Tirud said about failing secret missions.”

  “It’s also possible Lieutenant Zhek lied to us about our mission,” Retus suggested. “Maybe Blay knows the real mission and has orders to keep it a secret from us.”

  “Either way, Blay’s lying to us,” Nolen said.

  Lujo shrugged. “Blay seems like a loyal Ahjea sordenu. If he has orders to keep our real mission secret from us, who am I to try to convince him to disobey his instructions?”

  “What’re you talking about?” Phedam asked them as he stepped into the light of the fire.

  “Blay’s keeping a secret from us,” Nolen announced.

  Phedam held one arm out over the fire and rubbed it with his hand to warm it against the chill of the desert night. “So, what’s this secret?”

  “We’re not going to Tranagul like we thought,” Nolen said gravely.

  Phedam didn’t look impressed. “So? Remember when we were second-cyclers and the adults took six of us out to the hills east of Pophir? Sebem el’Ahjea told us we were out there to play a game,” he said for everyone else’s benefit. “The adults had hidden some gold, silver, iron and water out here, and it was up to us kids to find it. Whoever found the most would get honey cakes.”

  “Of course I remember,” Nolen snapped. “What’s your point?”

  Phedam rolled his eyes. “None of us found anything, but they gave us all honey cakes anyway. That’s because they never hid anything out there. If we had found anything, it would have been a new vein of ore or a new well.”

  Nolen leaned back, looking thoughtfully at his shumi.

  “You think there isn’t any delegation,” Butu said, voicing all their thoughts.

  Phedam nodded. “Exactly. It sounds like a test to make sure we can learn to follow orders and survive in the shanjin.”

  “Then why does Tirud seem so upset about it?” Nolen demanded. “Unless the test is to see if we’ll notice whether our leader is lying to us.”

  “They’re coming back,” Butu warned. “Let’s practice magic. Maybe we’ll find a way to convince him to tell us.”

  Phedam had created his first glass with Nolen and Butu’s help before Blay and Jani stepped into the light of the fire.

  “How goes the experiment?” Blay asked.

  “Slowly,” Lujo admitted.

  They tried different combinations of chants and chanters. Butu couldn’t concentrate on it at all, which meant he had an easier time turning sand into glass than he usually did. None of the other sordenu dared comment on it for fear that Blay would ask him what he had on his mind instead of magic.