Lost Truth

  Acutely aware of Talo-Toecan’s suspicious scrutiny, Lodesh eased himself down beside Strell as if for casual talk. The man never woke, and Lodesh’s chest tightened as he saw the bemused contentment in him. Jealousy pulled Lodesh’s shoulders until they hurt. She should have been mine! he thought bitterly. He had patiently waited. Gave her time to make up her mind. He had done everything right. Why wasn’t she his?

  Throat tight, he stared at the lanky, unassuming plainsman. Strell had won. Hurt, rage, and malice ran hot through him, building upon one another to make his head pound. He wanted to hurt Strell, to make him feel the same pain. How could she not be his? He had done everything right. How could Strell have taught a beast what love was?

  Lodesh’s breath caught in sudden understanding. The Wolves should hunt me. It had been love, he thought, his eyes closing as the depth of his folly crashed anew over him. He had answered his own question. Strell taught a beast what love was because he loved both Alissa and Beast. Strell called them one and the same. He loved them both—but Lodesh loved only Alissa.

  Lodesh’s breath shook as he exhaled. His urge to punish Strell evaporated, leaving him empty. The hollow it left behind throbbed in his soul like an open wound, cold and aching. He couldn’t hate Strell for loving Alissa more than he did. He could only curse himself.

  Anguish bowed his head as he looked ahead through the coming centuries. He had failed three times over. Alissa would be cursed as much as he, forced to live a hundred lifetimes without the love of the man she desired.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his heart clenching in grief as he thought of her smile, soft with sleep. “I only wanted to see you happy.” He closed his eyes against his misery. He had only wanted to see her happy. And with that, he knew.

  “My curse,” he breathed, feeling as if he was being torn inside. He could give Strell his curse. “Yes,” he whispered, hearing it come out harsh and ugly. Strell was a Hirdune, born to his sister’s children many times removed. He was entitled to it. And as Lodesh was sure the Hold would ultimately make him the Warden, it only seemed fitting.

  There was a perverse satisfaction in knowing the guilt would hurt the man, coloring everything he did in a gray shadow. He was sure Strell would carry his curse for a thousand years so as to remain with Alissa to the end rather than the paltry three hundred he had carried it. Strell would suffer, but Alissa would be happy.

  Lodesh pulled his head up, almost shocked to find the sun was still bright and shining. His jaw was tight, and his neck hurt. His mind cried for him to get up and walk away before he could do it: to let Strell have her for a time, then be happy with what Strell left him. But Alissa . . . Alissa would cry when Lodesh couldn’t see. It would shape her days and haunt her thoughts until she was a shadow of the woman he loved. For Alissa, he would give Strell his curse.

  Grieving, he closed his eyes, searching his feelings for the way to give his curse to Strell. It had been laid upon him in despair and grief, and he would have to use the same to give it in turn to Strell.

  Lodesh went cold, unable to feel the strong morning sun. The memory of the bitter taste of ash at the back of his throat from burning bodies coursed through him. Eyes closing, he cast his mind back to when he had stood atop his dammed walls, weeping as he watched Kally die, then again as Ren brought his shame and grief to rest within Lodesh. This, he thought. This will be my gift to you, Strell.

  Heady and strong, his emotions poured through him. His breath caught at the strength of it, and as he exhaled, he willed his curse away from him and onto Strell.

  He felt his curse shift, then gasped as pain clenched his heart. Lodesh’s eyes flashed open, and he reached for the support of the boat. He caught his breath as a delicious agony struck through him. The curse was peeled away like a scab, and three hundred years of guilt lifted from his soul.

  The clean beam of innocence struck deep within him, cold against the exposed patch of soul. He felt wounded, ripped apart, as he stared unseeing. As nebulous as a dove in the rain, the guilt was—gone.

  Slowly the band about his chest loosened. Slowly Lodesh regained his senses. Sweat ran from him, and he stared at Strell.

  The man had woken as the curse intended for an entire city fell upon him. His eyes were wide, and his mouth was open, reaching, gasping for air. “It will get easier,” Lodesh rasped, putting a trembling hand upon the man’s shoulder. Then his hand dropped. “No. I lie. It never gets easier, but you’ll learn to carry it so it doesn’t color everything you do.”

  “What . . .” Strell gasped, pain etched over his brow. “What did you do to me?” Understanding, black and angry, flashed over him. “You ash-ridden, twisted son of a—”

  “No,” Lodesh interrupted. He dropped his eyes, knowing he would be unable to hide his sudden upwelling of bittersweet joy. It was gone. His curse was gone, leaving him free. His joy mixed with heartache, and he suddenly knew how Sati must have felt. Sati, he thought, his gaze going distant. He had never understood her until now. He had loved her, too, and it had nearly killed her. Alissa, though . . . Alissa would live. Alissa would love.

  “I can’t breathe,” Strell said, dropping his head into his hands. “I can’t think.”

  “You will.” Lodesh rose and stumbled to the railing. He felt ill. Unable to look at Strell, he gazed sightlessly over the fog-flattened water as his thoughts drifted to a memory of Sati in the moonlight, her eyes bright with laughter as she whispered giggles and threw dandelions at the citadel guards. He had tried to love her even as she saw his death over and over again. Would she remember that as she sat at the Navigator’s table? Had she waited for him?

  There was a scrape, and he turned to see Strell struggling to move his legs. The plainsman looked about as strong as a starving kitten. “You gave me your curse,” Strell whispered, his eyes haunted. “This guilt.” He looked desperate. “It’s not mine. Take it back!”

  Lodesh’s jaw clenched. “No. I gave it to you for Alissa, and you’re going to carry it.” He forced himself to look at Strell. “Because I love her, too,” he finished, choking on his words.

  Strell blinked several times. “Alissa?” he breathed.

  Lodesh turned, unable to bear the sudden hope that crossed Strell’s face. The next few weeks trapped on this boat were going to be a living hell. “She needs you more than I need her,” Lodesh whispered to the waves. He swallowed hard, his chest hurting. “Go away.”

  He heard Strell stumble to his feet, and Lodesh spun. “Wait,” he said, then hunched in surprise as a cough shook him. His face went slack as he recognized the sound. It had been over three hundred years, but it wasn’t easy to forget. He swallowed, feeling ill at the coppery taste. So soon? he thought. The Navigator help me.

  Shaking inside, he faced Strell. “Don’t tell her,” he said, praying the man would do as he asked. “Wait until we get to the coast. The next few weeks—” He steadied himself, gripping the railing as a wave ran under the boat. “I can’t bear her pity,” he whispered.

  The tall, ashen-faced plainsman before him nodded. Saying nothing, he walked away. Lodesh wasn’t surprised to see him move easily across the gently tilted deck, not using the railing as support for the first time. Empty and drained, Lodesh turned back to the fog. His breath slipped in and out of his lungs. He listened for the rattle of blood. Waiting.

  42

  It was hard to have a proper honeymoon with your friends around, Alissa thought in cheerful resignation as she leaned over the railing of the Albatross to watch the foam stream. It was even more difficult when your father was there as well, and that’s what Alissa had begun to see Useless as. She squinted into the dusk to better see the lights on the dock. The moon was hidden behind thick clouds, which was why they were coming into port without the Masters hiding their eyes and hands. The stored heat of the day rose from the water like a violet mist, visible now whether she wore skin or hide. She could fly now, too, frightening Useless the first time she had shimmied up the mast and jumped from it
, shifting in midair.

  A smile came over her as Strell put a hand on her shoulder. “Ready to go home?” Strell whispered, his finger tracing the curve of her cheek.

  She shivered and leaned into him. “Yes,” she said. It wasn’t that she hadn’t enjoyed their trip back—far from it— but the boat was frustratingly small, and she was growing weary of the ribald jests at her expense. If she rose early, it was noted. If she rose late, it was noted as well. She was eager to move her things into Strell’s tower room and find a new pattern of lessons and chores.

  Lights blossomed on the dock as Hayden shouted across the dusk-stilled water. It was unusual for a boat to sail into dock instead of dropping anchor or being towed in, especially at night. The dock people were grudgingly moving their boats to make room. That Captain Sholan was attempting to sail in proved he was an excellent seaman who liked to show off.

  The captain stood at the wheel, alternating his gaze from the flag on the mast to the approaching dock. Alissa could feel the tension, relishing it. There were advantages to having a small boat. “It’d be easier if one of us would shift and just push it to shore,” she said.

  “Perhaps you could do that in a few centuries,” Strell said. “The captain seems to have accepted rakus. I don’t think they’re as frightened of Masters as Talo-Toecan thinks.”

  Alissa glanced across the flat deck at Captain Sholan. The forced contact had desensitized the man. It would be nice to see rakus and humans working side by side someday, but the fear on his face the first time Connen-Neute had shifted was a very strong deterrent.

  “Hayden! Drop the jib!” Captain Sholan shouted suddenly as they came within hailing distance of the dock. “Neute!” he called, and the young Master jumped to his feet. “Take the bow rope. Cast it to the largest man on the dock. No, wait until we get there! Talo-Toecan, if you would take the stern line, please. Wrap it round a piling as soon as you can. Lodesh, fend us off. Use an oar, not your arm, man! You want to break it? Hayden! Help the piper. He’s got no strength in those skinny arms. Only able to lift a mug, he is. Alissa!” he shouted, and she jumped.

  “Get your hind end in the wheel pit with Silla before you get knocked down. The girl is the only one of the lot of you with any sense. Here!” he exclaimed as Alissa obediently jumped into the lowered deck. “Take this rope and drop the mainsail when I tell you.”

  Alissa meekly took it in her good hand, thinking integrating the two cultures might not be such a good idea after all. At Captain Sholan’s direction, she unwrapped the rope and let it slide through her fingers. They were still some distance from the dock when the mainsail fell with a sound of sliding canvas to make a white puddle on the deck.

  Within the shadows of the flickering oil lamps and the hush of excited conversation, they drifted in on their momentum. Excitement thrilled through Alissa at the tricky maneuver.

  “No! Wrap it twice, wind-torn fool!” Captain Sholan shouted. “Let the piling stop the boat, not your back. You’ll break it, and then what good will you be to me. Bone and Ash, you would think you never brought a boat in before!”

  There was a flurry of tossed ropes and shouts, and they came to a creaking, reluctant halt. Alissa took a quick breath, feeling the finality of the boat ceasing motion. Unthinking, she looked to the top of the mast for Talon, her shoulders slumping as she remembered she would never hear Talon’s scolding chatter again but in memory.

  Calls went down the dock with the name of the boat. Apparently their arrival had caused a stir. She was glad it was dark enough to hide her eyes. Silla stood beside her, gaping at the dock. “Look at all the people!” the young woman exclaimed softly. “See? Some are children!”

  “Watch your hands,” Alissa whispered back. “Tuck them in your sleeves. And wear a hat to hide your eyes if you go off deck. You don’t want to start a panic.”

  Silla absently nodded. Her lips moved as she counted the lights on the dock, her amazement growing. Her foot jingled with several bells on loan from Alissa: two from Useless, and the one from Connen-Neute. It had been Alissa’s idea, though Connen-Neute had promised to get Silla her own bell as soon as they made landfall if she wanted.

  Alissa frowned as an uneasy buzz started on the dock. It surrounded the man Connen-Neute had tossed his rope to, and she wondered if the dockman had noticed Connen-Neute’s fingers or that he had left as a blind man and returned whole.

  “Hoy, Sholan!” a strong voice called merrily out from the dock.

  “My brother-in-law,” the captain muttered, then louder to Hayden, “Get the plank out.”

  The plank slid into place, and the man strode eagerly aboard. Captain Sholan sighed as he went to meet him, his entire body moving with his exhalation. Connen-Neute and Useless vanished belowdecks. The older Master beckoned to Silla, and she reluctantly joined them. Alissa refused to drop her eyes, knowing she was safe in the dusk. Still, she stayed in the wheel pit while Captain Sholan went to greet the man.

  “Sholan!” the man said, pounding him on the back. “Where’ve you been? No one has seen you for months.”

  “The Rag Islands,” Captain Sholan said gruffly, clearly pleased.

  The man bobbed his head, not giving Alissa a second look after hearing the few bells on her ankle. Alissa smiled, glad for the lack of notoriety. “You found them? Imagine that,” the man said in a preoccupied way. “And what did you do to my sister’s boat?” he asked, walking quickly to the boom. He ran a hand over it, grunting when he found the wood smooth and strong. “Oh, I like this. What kind of wood is that? You get this on the Rag Islands? They have hardwood there? Who would have thought that? Is there more?”

  “Get yer grubby hands off my boat,” Captain Sholan said loudly, and several people on the dock shouted cheerful agreements.

  “Aye, your boat again,” the man admitted. “My sister sent me spying. I’m here to appease her, the scrawny witch. But tell me about the Rag Islands. Is there much good timber? How long does it take to get there? Do you use the current?”

  Alissa followed Strell with her eyes as he passed with his arms full of packages. She wondered if Captain Sholan might be going back to the Rag Islands sooner rather than later. His brother-in-law seemed as impressed with mirth wood as the captain was.

  Strell dropped his load at the bottom of the plank and crossed back in front of her. Connen-Neute was handing bundles up to Lodesh, who was making a surprisingly high pile on the deck. “How are we going to get all that back to the Hold?” she whispered as Useless came out the second hatch to stand behind her in the shadows.

  Useless harrumphed, keeping a close watch on the two coastal men discussing the boom. “We only need to get it out of town,” he said, careful to keep his eyes down and his hands hidden. “Everyone will come and collect their things before sunup. Yar-Taw said he’s finished the sling for the piper. Between us, we can get Strell back safely.”

  Strell shuddered dramatically as he passed them, his arms loaded down.

  “We’ll be home by sunrise,” Useless continued in a satisfied voice. “The Hold looks the best at sunrise. Silla should see it then.”

  Alissa thought the Hold would look good in snow, sun, or fog at this point. Then she hesitated. “What about Lodesh?”

  Useless rocked back on his heels and said nothing. Still silent, he spun on a heel and went belowdecks. Alissa frowned. She could get an answer from him, but it would be easier to go right to the source. Looking across the deck for Lodesh, her eyes narrowed. Lodesh wasn’t going to run away just because she and Strell were married. She was going to make sure of that!

  She stomped over to him, her emotions high. The bells about her ankle jingled to give her away, and Lodesh straightened from his crouch before she was close. Connen-Neute took one look at her, stammered an excuse, and vanished into the more-certain dark of the boat’s hold.

  “What’s this about you not coming back with us?” she demanded, her hands on her hips.

  Lodesh pushed a lengthening curl out of his eye
s. “I’m staying with Captain Sholan,” he said evenly. “He told me yesterday he’s going back to the islands for mirth wood. I’m going with him to make sure he doesn’t harvest the island into a desert.”

  “That’s not why you’re staying with him,” she accused. “You’re running away.”

  Can you blame me? his raised eyebrows said, but his words did not. Alissa flushed. She shifted from foot to foot, then darted to stand in his way. “Ese’ Nawoer will soon be filling up with people,” she said. “We need you. The Hold needs you.”

  He took her shoulders and moved her gently out of his way. “You don’t need me,” he said, but his smile held no recrimination.

  “Lodesh,” she protested, guilt making her voice high. “You can’t just leave!” She furrowed her brow, thinking. “I—I do need you. You know everyone at the Hold. You have to smooth things out, or I’ll end up on everyone’s work list.”

  Lodesh ducked his head, making a small cough to hide his laugh. But it turned real. Harsh and deep, his breath raked from him. Alissa reached to touch his shoulder as he hunched under the force of the coughs. He had a red handkerchief at the ready to cover his mouth, and he took a step to pull out from under her hand. The cloth looked black in the dim light. He had been carrying it the last few weeks. She stared at it, seeing a wet smear as he tucked it casually away and resumed stacking packages. “Strell will keep you out of trouble,” he said, his voice breathy.

  Worried, Alissa came closer. “Lodesh. What’s wrong?”

  He said nothing, silent as Strell took an armful of packages from him and walked away. Strell’s steps were subdued, and Alissa grew more worried. Lodesh had been different on the way back. Quieter, less inclined to jest. She had attributed it to her and Strell, but now, she wondered. She thought of how he had been avoiding her, his increasing coughing spells impossible to hide on a boat, and the way he held the railing as his uncanny balance seemed to be gone. Frightened, she glanced at Strell, carrying an armful of packages down the plank with an unusual ease. He hadn’t been ill the entire trip back, walking about the boat with the sureness of being on dry land.