Reunion (8 page)

“Dear God,” Henwyneb whispered. “What is that?”

“The kraken,” Corwin answered, his blood turning cold.

Chapter Five

“Is this the serpent from the waves that you saw this morning?” Henwyneb asked.

Corwin nodded and swallowed hard. “Yes,” he replied.

“Then you must go, and hurry! Farewell!”

Corwin took Nia's arm. “Get inside, Henwyneb. You don't want to be that snake's supper.” Corwin began to walk as fast as his ill and tired body would let him, his hand firmly on Nia's elbow to help her keep up.

But after a few steps, she shook his hand off her arm. “I'm strong enough,” she said. “I'm used to dry rooms. I was the best at dry-landing in my school.”

“What is a, um . . . never mind. Listen, do you know what the creature that made that scream is?”

Nia stopped. “Show me.” She touched his forehead and then her own.

Corwin leaned down and rested his forehead against hers a moment, remembering vividly the scarlet serpent coiling out of the sea, forming huge eyes and a mouth and lunging straight for him.

“I've heard stories of such things,” she said at last. “Only the most powerful of Avatars can summon and control the small life of the sea this way. Or an entire council . . .” She paused. “I don't think your blind friend is in danger. I think this thing is only coming for us.”

“That's not very comforting,” Corwin muttered. “You sure are full of bad news. You didn't have Fenwyck to teach you to only say nice things.”

“What is . . . Fenwik?”

“Never mind. That's
my
long story. We should hurry.” Corwin was grateful, at least, that the constant disorientation and nagging questioning from the prince-other-mind had quieted down. He couldn't tell if the uneasiness and fear that filled him were entirely his own, or if those feelings also belonged to the Farworlder, or maybe even to Nia.
Fenwyck may have tried to tell me what to think, but he never actually forced his thoughts into my head. If this keeps up, I won't know who I am anymore. And that's almost as good as being dead.

“Where are we going?” Nia asked as the path connected back to the rutted road.

“We're going to—” Corwin was about to say, “my cave,” but then he realized that the grotto that had sheltered him these past several weeks was even closer to the sea, and therefore now too dangerous a haven. He looked down the road. The way opposite from the sea headed straight into Carmarthen town.

Nia studied him, clearly catching his thoughts. “It may help if we're among others,” she said. “It will make us harder to find.”

Corwin racked his brain to try to think of some relatively safe place. All he could think of was the Toad & Ferret, a rather disreputable tavern with rooms upstairs for renting. The inn was owned by an old friend, if you could call him that, of Fenwyck's by the name of Anwir. No one there was likely to have any love of the royal guards, either.

“I see a place in your mind filled with . . . unpleasant-looking men who are drinking?”

“You've got it right,” Corwin said. “And they don't just look unpleasant. Most of them
are
unpleasant.”

“This place will be safe?” Nia asked, raising her eyebrows in question.

“From the kraken, possibly.”

“But . . . there are other dangers?”

“There are always other dangers.”

“Yes, I forget I'm among land-dwellers now,” Nia said, sadly staring at the ground. “We were taught about the violence here.”

“Well . . . we aren't all bad,” Corwin went on, hoping she wouldn't think badly of him just because he was a land-dweller. If they lived long enough, he assumed she would find whole new and unique reasons to think badly of him.

“Raawk!”

Nia jumped back. “Was that the kraken?”

Corwin shook his head. “No, that's just a raven. His name's Nag. And who asked you to comment on landlubbers, eh?” he called out to the bird. “This is all your fault, you know. You led me to that beached leviathan.”

“Does the . . . raven understand your speech?” Nia asked.

“I'm not sure,” Corwin said. The bird was regarding Nia curiously, tilting its head one way, then another.

“Is it friendly?”

“No. Ignore him. He only wants to be a nuisance. Let's keep going.” As they walked faster down the road, Corwin added, “So why is this serpent creature only after us? What does it want?”

Nia sighed. “Remember I told you about an evil king who wants all power?”

“Yes. You have a Vortigern of the sea.”

“In Atlantis, power, magical power, comes from the Farworlders. What you call the leviathan. Our prince may be the last leviathan.”

“So this king wants . . . whatever little creature is in that shell?”

“Yes.”

“How can there be any power worth having from a baby squid?”

“You've already seen it.”

“What, you mean that . . . thing you did with your hands? The blasts of air?”

“Yes. And that's only a small part of it.”

Corwin paused.
A small part? Kings and generals would give all their wealth just for the amount of power she'd displayed earlier. Hmm. If I live, is there some way I could profit from all of this?
Corwin could almost see what Fenwyck would have done with Nia. “Behold the Lady of the Sea! Watch her knock over barrels at twenty paces! Only five pence!” But Fenwyck had been a fool, and Corwin was capable of bigger dreams than that.

“I see,” Corwin answered carefully.

“If Ma'el can't capture the prince,” Nia went on, “he would want to destroy it, so that the prince's power won't interfere with his own. And because we're bound to the prince—”

“Killing either one of us would be as good as killing the prince himself,” Corwin finished for her, his body feeling very heavy.

She pressed her lips together. “Yes,” she responded.

“And to think, just this morning I was feeling like life couldn't possibly get worse.”

“I have felt that way, too,” Nia said, the note of sadness back in her voice. “I was wrong.”

“Well, we all make mistakes.”

“If Ma'el succeeds and destroys the prince, not only will he rule Atlantis, but he will conquer the land-dwelling kingdoms as well. No one will be able to oppose his magic.”

Corwin stopped and took Nia by the shoulders. “Nia, maybe we should stop talking about this. I don't really think I can take much more right now.”

“I'm sorry,” she said. “I thought you wanted to know.”

“So did I. I was wrong.”

“We all make mistakes,” Nia said.

They stumbled on, keeping to the shadows that were growing darker. At least the prince-mind could no longer keep asking,
What is that? What is that
? because nothing could be seen. Corwin hoped they would not be attacked by robbers. Robbers got really upset when their victims had nothing to give. Corwin didn't know if Nia had enough strength to perform more magic, or even how the baby leviathan gave her power. But they were passed by just one lone rider, who gave them only a sidelong glance.

As twilight faded into total night, Corwin and Nia at last came upon a dilapidated building lit by torchlight. The sign hanging above the door showed a badly painted toad and ferret wearing Roman togas. They were either dancing and singing, or walking on hot coals and screaming.

“Are there land-dwellers who look like that?” Nia asked, wide-eyed.

“You'd certainly think so after drinking enough of Anwir's ale,” Corwin said.

They went inside, and Corwin was struck by the reek of unwashed men and sour beer. Pulling his hood closer around his face, he guided Nia toward the bar.

“Dija hear that almighty screamin' down by t'beach tonight?” one man was saying behind them.

“Sounded like a horse bein' butchered,” said his table partner.

“Probly them bludy Saxons,” said the first. “They'll et anythin'.”

So others heard the kraken, too
, Corwin thought.
Maybe Vortigern will send his wizards to banish it. Although knowing Vortigern, he might just ask his mages to make another kraken for his own uses. So let's hope he doesn't.
At the bar, Corwin noted a stout man bent over, searching for something on low shelves.

“Grown hunchbacked in your old age, Anwir?” Corwin asked.

The man stood up suddenly, banging his head on a shelf above. “Ow! What rascal there be callin' me a hunchback?” He turned around, rubbing his head.

Corwin put a finger to his lips to silence any comment of recognition from Anwir. “Just a friend of a friend.”

“Well now, well now,” said Anwir, leaning on his side of the bar. “Isn't it nice to have friends?” He smiled at Nia, giving her full view of his stubbly cheeks, nose like a bruised strawberry, and few remaining dark-as-walnut-wood teeth.

Corwin felt Nia's mind beg a question of him, but he couldn't sense about what. “We need a room for the night.”

“Of course you do,” Anwir said, his gaze not leaving Nia's face.

Unfortunately, Corwin felt it would not be wise to punch Anwir's lights out just now. “Is one available?”

“For a friend of a friend? Always. Assumin' you can pay for it, that is.”

Corwin sighed with disgust.
So much for friendship
. And so much for their chances, since he didn't have a penny on him.

Nia tugged at his arm. She was holding a small leather bag. Undoing the drawstrings, Nia spilled out the contents on the bar. There were three pieces of polished coral and five small gleaming pearls. “Will this . . . pay for it?” Nia asked.

Corwin had never seen Anwir's eyes so wide, and he had a feeling his own had grown rather large. If only he'd known Nia had those pearls before! “Why, yes, missy,” Anwir said, quickly scooping the gems into his broad, thick palm. “That should just cover it, and a bit left over for breakfast, too.” He reached down and got a long iron key from under the counter. “Up the stairs and last door on your right. Have a pleasant evening.”

Corwin grabbed the key and guided Nia up the rickety stairs before he could lay a punch on Anwir's smirking face. He also wanted to be out of the common room before anyone took much note of him or Nia. “You shouldn't have given him all the pearls,” Corwin grumbled, annoyed.

Nia frowned back at him. “I didn't know how much to pay. I thought he would just take what the room cost and give back the rest. That's what our merchants would do.”

“You'll have to be more careful here,” Corwin warned. “Not everyone is so honest.”
Barely anyone, in fact
, he added to himself.
Including, in another life, me.

“Land-dwellers,” Nia sighed.

The corridor at the top of the stairs wasn't all that inviting. The floorboards tilted at odd angles, and it was lit only with dim, smelly oil lamps in the rusty wall sconces. Corwin walked quickly across the creaking hall to the farthest door on the right. It turned out the key was just a formality, for the lock was broken, hanging uselessly in the hole in the door. Corwin pushed the door open. It was pitch-dark inside.

Suddenly a pale green light gave dim illumination to the room. Corwin looked beside him. Nia stood there with what appeared to be a greenish flame dancing on her hand. But the flame did not burn her skin.

“More of the prince's magic?” Corwin asked.

“Yes,” Nia said. “But I don't have the strength to do this for long.”

It was enough light, however, for Corwin to see an unlit candle stuck on a block of wood, sitting on a side table. He took the candle and lit the wick on a flame from one of the corridor oil lamps.

So she can create light as well,
Corwin thought in amazement. He wondered just how much Nia was capable of doing, or if she even knew. Then a new idea struck him.
Nia's magical power comes from being joined to the prince
.
But I'm joined to the prince, too. Is it possible that I could have those powers?

He carried the lit candle back into the room. Its illumination showed a lumpy straw mattress on a bed whose legs were of different lengths. Nia had taken off her cloak and hung it on one of the bedposts. She was standing next to the side table, on which sat a jug of water and a bowl.

Nia poured out some of the water into the bowl and started eagerly splashing her face, neck, and arms with it, letting out happy little noises that made Corwin smile.

What a beautiful creature she is,
he thought.
What would she want with a land-dwelling lump like me? Once we find the prince and do that Naming thing, I'm sure she'll want to return to the ocean and leave me behind.

What am I thinking?
He blinked.
This girl and her prince may be the key to my future prosperity, if we live. What nobleman wouldn't pay highly for access to all that power?
But something deep inside of him wondered if he'd ever have the heart to go through with anything like that.

“This water is sweet!” she said.

Corwin found it hard to imagine that the brown swill from Anwir's wells could be called sweet. “Well, it isn't salty like the sea,” he said. “It's freshwater, so I guess it doesn't taste like what you're used to.”

“Hmmm. Fresh. But empty. It gives no . . . sustenance,” she said. “Still, water is water.”

“Of course. You need water, don't you? Being a mer . . . I mean, considering where you're from.” Corwin didn't know if there was anyone listening at the wall, but it was better to play it safe.

“Is there any more of this?” she asked, pointing at the bowl.

Corwin shook his head. “Anwir would probably charge extra for a bath. And the water wouldn't even be close to warm.”

“I don't need warm water,” Nia said. “In my home, the water's very cold. Maybe tomorrow . . . is there somewhere nearby where I can swim?”