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Authors: Rowena Cory Daniells

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Sanctuary (61 page)

BOOK: Sanctuary
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He made the deep obeisance. ‘Ambassador Sorne, representing Causare T’Imoshen of the T’Enatuath. Thank you for seeing me. I also have to thank Merchant Sahia for coming to our rescue.’

‘Yes, we heard you’d had an eventful voyage,’ the feathered cat said.

Another woman. Sorne’s mind raced. Had they thought he would be disarmed? Or, did they think that since Wyrd women were more powerful than men, he would instinctively obey a woman?

The woman in the feathered cat mask inclined her head. ‘I am House Felinii.’

Sorne bowed, then turned to the serpent-masked Sagora.

‘House Vulpii.’ His voice was deep and rich.

Sorne gave him the obeisance of greeting then turned to the peacock.

‘House Pavoii.’ Her voice was clipped and formal. Sorne had the feeling she did not like him.

He bowed. ‘Forgiveness, but what is that smell?’

‘Come and see.’ Felinii beckoned.

All the Sagoras went to the edge of the verandah and Sorne joined them. He made out cages and realised it was... ‘A menagerie.’

‘Exactly,’ Felinii said. ‘These are the Halls of Beasts, where we study the animal kingdom.’

As she finished speaking, lanterns were lowered so that the caged beasts were illuminated. At one end was an aviary that ran the height of the two-storey building. Disturbed by the light, all manner of birds fluttered about, calling and screeching.

This set off the beasts below. Sorne spotted two silver-backed wolves from the high southern mountains, a crested bear and a nest of snakes, scales glinting in the light. But it was the prowling panther which attracted his gaze. It was directly below them and it knew they were up here. This was what had screamed and this was what smelled so bad.

‘It’s a female and she’s in heat,’ Sorne said. He’d once seen King Charald throw an arrogant captive in a pit with a panther. After that, the rest of the captives had cooperated.

‘We’ve sent away for a mate,’ Felinii said. ‘But panthers are lone hunters. She may think the male is trying to take over her territory and tear him to shreds.’

Sorne swallowed, not sure if he had interpreted their meaning correctly. ‘That would be a pity when the male seeks only something to their mutual benefit.’

‘How can she be sure?’ Pavoii countered. She gestured sharply.

Metal clanged and a lamb bleated. The panther stopped prowling. Sorne saw there was a passage between the cages. A keeper had put the lamb into the passage and closed the outer gate. He knew what was coming. He’d seen worse.

The panther’s cage door slid open. It slunk into the passage. The crested bear reared to its full height and gave its distinctive trumpeting growl. Next thing Sorne knew, the panther was dragging the dead lamb into its cage and the door clanged shut.

‘Such is the nature of beasts,’ Sorne said, turning back to the three Sagora leaders. ‘But we are not beasts. The T’Enatuath seek sanctuary, nothing more.’

‘So you say. Tell the causare we will deal with her and no one else,’ Pavoii said. Again, she signalled and this time a servant arrived with a lantern.

Sorne had been dismissed. If they would not negotiate with him, why had they agreed to this meeting?

He was taken back to the ship, where there was no sign of Merchant Sahia. As he lit a lamp and stripped in his cabin, he heard scratching at his door and opened it up to find Tiasely, accompanied by several teary children.

‘They would not sleep until they knew you’d come back,’ she said.

He spread a blanket on the floor and lay down. The children settled around him like puppies, snuffling and wriggling until they were comfortable.

‘You don’t mind?’ Tiasely asked. ‘I did almost have them asleep, but when the Sagoras came –’

‘What Sagoras?’

‘After you left, several Sagoras came to see us. They brought toys and treats. They told stories and played games and got the children all excited. Then I couldn’t get this lot back to sleep.’

So that was why they’d agreed to see him. The Sagoras wanted to question the children. Guessing rightly, he suspected, that the youngsters would reveal what they wanted to know.

‘Did the Sagoras ask questions?’

Tiasely nodded and knelt on the floor near the door. ‘They asked us how we’d come to be captured and how you saved us. They asked so many questions...’ She shrugged and yawned. ‘Our people will arrive soon, won’t they? And then we’ll have a new home.’

‘Yes.’ He sincerely hoped so.

After Tiasely returned to the children’s cabin, Sorne stared at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure what the Sagoras hoped to learn from the children, but he suspected it was how desperate his people were.

The Sagoras had put on a display of strength and gauged his people’s strength... it could only mean one thing. They wanted to negotiate. This meant they wanted something from the Wyrds, wanted it enough to try to intimidate him before negotiations started.

 

 

I
MOSHEN DIPPED HER
fingers in the scented water and bathed her face, hands and feet. Formal gift-working required ceremony and the execution of one of their own required the most solemn of ceremonies. She placed a hand on Egrayne’s shoulder as her voice-of-reason dried her feet.

Egryane stood, folded the cloth and placed it on a tray. The purification over, it was time to begin.

But as Imoshen went to step forward, Egrayne caught her arm.

‘Make it quick. Take her straight to the higher plane and leave her there. The empyrean predators will feast on her power. And...’ – Egrayne’s hand tightened on her arm – ‘whatever you do, don’t lose concentration. If you do, her gift will feed on your power, gain in strength. It could infect you.’

Imoshen nodded. Tonight, she was pure purpose.

Egrayne kissed her forehead. ‘Do this because it needs to be done. Do it without faltering and come back safe to us, because we need you.’

Reoden met Imoshen’s eyes across the high rear-deck, the scryer’s body between them. More than Imoshen’s life was at risk here tonight. If the healer was not strong enough to control her gift’s instinct to preserve life and sever the link she shared with her scryer, she would be dragged onto the higher plane as well.

Reoden nodded once, her meaning clear.
Do what I can’t do.

No one spoke. Imoshen knelt by the scryer’s head. Despite being in the open air, the gift-corruption was so strong Imoshen felt nauseous.

She centred herself, lowered her defences, placed her fingertips on the scryer’s temples and reached...

The scryer’s gift sank its claws into her. Discovering that Imoshen’s power was not defended, the gift severed the connection with Reoden and sought to link with Imoshen.

The moment the connection to Reoden was closed, Imoshen segued to the higher plane. There was nothing gentle about it. The move was brutal and abrupt.

And she was lost.

Normally, the higher plane was bone-numbingly cold. Normally, she would impose form on it, but the scryer’s gift had been ascendant over hers at the moment of change and so it had shaped the plane.

Everything was formless and confused. Shapes flickered around Imoshen, snatches of conversation, a laugh, music...

She sensed something move behind her and spun around, expecting one of the empyrean predators. It was her choice-son, Iraayel. He opened a window. And just like that, they were in a high tower. All she could see past his shoulder was clear blue sky.

It was Iraayel, but not as she knew him. This was the adult Iraayel, in full control of his gift. He radiated anger, which was directed at her.

‘If that’s how you feel, then there’s no more to be said.’ He turned his back on her and walked out.

She could not believe it. Iraayel would never turn against her.

She felt his rejection to the core.

Devastated, her concentration wavered.

In desperation, she refocused and segued onto... the higher plane. Immediately, she felt the cold in her bones.

Then where had that last place been?

The only explanation was that she’d ridden the scryer’s gift, which revealed a future where Iraayel would turn on her.

She refused to believe it.

In this moment of distraction, the gift-enhanced essence that was the scryer escaped from her.

On the empyrean plane, the T’En shaped themselves. In this case, the scryer was not in control of her gift, and shattered into a dozen shadowy creatures. Part cat, part mongoose, they screamed like newborns, terrified and indignant. And Imoshen recognised them as scraelings.

Did this mean the beasts that hunted them on the empyrean plane were products of their own misfortune?

She stared in horror as the scraelings fought and hissed amongst themselves, utterly vulnerable to the predators of the empyrean plane.

She could have left then, but she didn’t. She wanted to make it quick, so she let her power flare to attract the hungry predators. The scraelings circled her, curious and growing bolder by the moment.

She had hoped there would be a moment’s peace at the end for the scryer, a moment when she recovered her senses, but it was not to be. Lysitzi had degraded to these feral creatures, which hunted Imoshen and were in turn hunted. Already something large and dangerous had reached the crest of the nearest dune.

Imoshen recognised her surroundings.

Shocked by the future Iraayel’s betrayal, she had come home to the lighthouse island of her childhood. In the west, the island had been cliffs and crashing waves, while the eastern shore had been silken dunes and sheltered inlets. And it was to one of these private dune hollows that she had fled.

The predators approached, slinking up the sides of the dune, coming from all directions.

She could feel the cold of the higher plane creeping up through her feet, into her bones, as it tried to leach the power from her. Imoshen’s instincts told her to flee.

One of the scraelings screamed in terror as something streaked over the lip of the dune, snatched it and dragged it out of sight.

The others screamed in horror, sharing its pain as it was devoured.

One scraeling tried to run back to Imoshen. Something moved under the sand like a wave, catching the creature. Sand slid towards Imoshen, as the scraeling struggled briefly and was engulfed.

Shrill cries from the others, cut off abruptly, one by one.

She stayed to see the last one dragged off and devoured.

Then, as the remaining predators turned their attention to her, she reached for Egrayne.

And found her; found herself cradled in her voice-of-reason’s arms.

‘You’re back. Good.’ Egrayne’s voice was hard and no-nonsense, in direct contrast to the tenderness Imoshen had felt a heartbeat before. ‘You need to purify yourself.’

‘What?’ She had no idea where she was, or even who she was. She knew only that she could trust Egrayne.

‘Your gift has been tainted. You need to purify yourself.’ Egrayne helped her sit up.

They were alone on the deck.

‘Where is everyone?

‘Watching the horizon. The lookout just sighted land.’

Imoshen scrambled to her feet, then had to bend double as she fought a wave of nausea. At last, she lifted her head. A dark shadow lay across the silvered sea, dividing it from the stars.

‘Ivernia,’ Imoshen breathed.

And she remembered her vision. Her beloved choice-son would turn his back on her.

No, the scryer’s gift was corrupted. It had plucked her deepest fear from her mind and presented it as the future to make her suffer.

Or so she told herself.

She had to believe it, because if Iraayel ever turned against her, it would break her heart.

 

 

Chapter Forty-Seven

 

 

I
MOSHEN’S FLEET ARRIVED
in Port Sorvernia mid-morning. As they sailed through the headlands, she studied the Sagoras’ Halls of Learning. She had seen etchings, of course, but the reality was much more impressive. Golden sandstone glowed against the rich blue of the southern sky. And below the ridge lay the port, red-tiled roofs bright in the winter sunshine.

The harsh cry of a seagull made Imoshen look up. It landed on the ship’s rail not far from her, watching hopefully. It was said seagulls made their own luck. Her people were going to need to be like the seagull, quick and adaptable.

Imoshen beckoned her hand-of-force. ‘As soon as we drop anchor, send word to the harbour-master. Let them know that the causare is here and wishes to see the Sagoras. Arrange a meeting before this evening, if you can.’

Kiane hurried off.

‘What are you going to do if they refuse us sanctuary?’ Egrayne asked softly.

‘Now that we’re here, it will be much harder to refuse us in person. The Sagoras are philosopher-scholars; their coin is knowledge. They know what it is like to come to a new land looking for a home. I hope –’

Saffazi came running up the steps, eyes bright with wonder. ‘You have to see this.’

She led them down to the mid-deck and over to the ship’s side. As their fleet dropped anchor, two long rowboats navigated between the ships. Both boats were laden with children, mostly Malaunje, a sprinkling of T’En and... ‘Sorne?’

Imoshen turned to Saffazi. ‘Quick, fetch Ree.’ Then she beckoned the ship’s master. ‘Drop the rope ladder over the side and prepare the sling.’

As this was done, Imoshen noted rowboats being lowered from the other T’Enatuath ships. It seemed the all-fathers and All-mother Athazi would be joining them for an impromptu all-council.

‘This is not good, Imoshen,’ Egrayne said. ‘This will be the first all-council since Melisarone’s death. There are only three sisterhoods left and six brotherhoods. If the brotherhoods force a vote...’

Meanwhile the children clambered over the side and ran about the deck, calling out for their loved ones and their all-fathers or all-mothers.

‘Imoshen!’ Healer Reoden came running over with a T’En girl of about ten years of age. Tears of happiness spilled down Ree’s face as she hugged the girl. ‘Look, it’s Yosune, Parazime’s daughter. We thought her dead, but she was captured and sold, only to be rescued by Sorne.’

BOOK: Sanctuary
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