The Balance of Power (Godsland Series: Books Four, Five, and Six) (49 page)

Again, the lord chancellor smiled. "I believe there is a backlog of petitioners waiting for an audience with me. Now I feel inclined to grant some of those audiences. Do I recall Furman Rand and Echter Donds having requests in for additional trading berths?"

Merini nodded.

"Summon them. I wish to hear their petitions personally."

Sensi swallowed hard. Both men had campaigned against the lord chancellor, and he knew now that their fates rested with an ancient figurine.

"And I've been thinking about the members of the old guard. I'd like to check in with each of them, especially Onin. This visit is mandatory; I insist."

* * *

The predator watched her. Allette remained as still as stone. She felt confined, trapped, and she wasn't certain she could stand. Green eyes regarded her with clear intent. Thick brown and black fur reminded Allette of a tabby cat, but this was no house cat. It was the size of a hound with a fluffy tail.

Allette twitched involuntarily, and the cat reacted by crouching down, looking as if it were about to pounce on its prey: Allette. But it didn't pounce; instead, it climbed down from the wood-framed hammock on which it had been resting and lowered itself to the floor, which was where Allette now realized she was lying. There was a blanket beneath her and another folded under her head. A low fire burned nearby; she could smell it and feel the heat.

The cat walked toward her sideways, its back arched and hair raised. The look in its eyes promised death, and Allette moved her parched lips, her voice coming out harsh and rough, "Nice kitty kitty."

The words had the opposite of the desired effect.

With two hops, the massive cat bounced sideways toward her. Then it was leaping for her face. Allette was so startled that she couldn't even scream. The lithe form slammed onto the floor at Allette's side, and claws whipped out at her, but they did not connect. Instead, they dug into the folded blanket beneath her aching head. After grabbing on to it, the cat wove its head back and forth, its eyes wide and focused. Twice, the cat's mighty back legs kicked the blanket, and Allette felt as if she'd been punched in the face. But then the door swung inward, and a large form filled the doorway.

The cat leaped upright and arched its back again before bouncing once or twice on all four paws, its ears back and eyes wide.

"Quit being a bother, you crazy cat! Off with you!" The man's voice was full of gravel and grit but not malice. The cat let out a trill then leaped back onto the hammock, where it preened. "You're awake, I see."

Allette nodded, unsure what to make of this man. His clothes were ragged and torn, his hair thinning and gray, but his hands looked as if they could crack walnuts.

"They didn't really throw you from the Heights, did they? Was it yesterday?"

Allette just nodded twice, not trusting her voice or this man.

He let out a low whistle. "You're just a child. What have they come to that they are throwing babies from the Heights?"

A flush rose to Allette's cheeks. "I'm no child and they didn't exactly throw me from the Heights."

The man sat back and reappraised her. "Tell me. I must know how you came to be here."

"I don't even know who you are."

Again the man looked her over. "You don't have the look of the Heights about you, but you don't look quite Midlander either. My name may mean nothing to you. I'm Thundegar."

Thundegar. The name tickled at Allette's muddled memory; she knew she'd heard that name before, and that was when she remembered what Sensi had said about the thrower.
"No one has been thrown from the Heights in decades. You're no Thundegar Rheams, I'll tell you that. That fool left the Thrower no other choice."

Though the old man watched her face, Allette tried not to let on that she knew who he was, though she knew precious little about him beyond the fact that he'd been thrown from the Heights decades before. What crimes had this man committed? she asked herself.

"Please. Tell me how you came to be here."

"I escaped the thrower," she said, fairly certain Thundegar would have similar feelings about the people who'd cast them out but not willing to risk telling him the complete truth. "And then I climbed down."

"Climbed?"

"Fell."

Silence, heavy with tension and doubt, hung between them after that exchange.

"Who died?" Thundegar asked, and Allette felt her stomach churn. Slowly she tried to push herself up. "Not yet. Stay down for now. You had a bad case of cloud rot, and you need food, water, and rest."

As if summoned by his words, a tickle irritated her throat, and she lay back down, coughing, her side aching. Thundegar brought water in a wooden cup that leaked terribly. "I was a metalsmith," Thundegar said when handing her the cup. "I haven't held a hammer in twenty years, and there's no metal here for me to work with, so I'm forced to work with wood. Do you know what it's like to lose your passion, your art?"

There was a faraway look in his eyes, and he no longer seemed to be talking to her. There was an awkward moment when he suddenly recalled she was there.

"I'm sorry. It's been a long time since I've had anyone to talk with except Rastas, and he listens like a rock."

The man's words and manner soothed Allette's fears, and she relaxed, the cool, clear water tasting wonderful.

"You should rest," he said, and he moved toward the door. "Come on, Rastas, you crazy cat."

The feline yawned, stretched, and ignored him.

"You see what I mean?" Thundegar asked and opened the door without waiting for a response.

"The thrower," Allette said before he closed the door behind himself. Thundegar froze and Allette hoped she hadn't made another mistake. "It was the thrower who died."

"How?" Thundegar asked, his emotions unreadable.

Allette sighed. Her life was in this man's hands, and she could not afford for him to think her a murderer, but she no longer wanted to lie to him. "I threw him from the Heights," she said before her courage faded.

Thundegar remained silent for some time.

"He was going to throw me from the Heights, I just knew it," she said, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. This man could seek his own justice if he so chose. "I did the only thing I could think of, I fell on my back and kicked. I didn't know he would go over. I didn't kill him on purpose."

Thundegar stood in the doorway, his body convulsing and twitching. Allette started to push herself up, ready to at least make a feeble attempt at defending herself. But then the sound of Thundegar's laughter reached her.

"You may think me cruel for laughing over the death of a man, but this was a very bad man, and you brought him the justice he for so long deserved. Do not chastise yourself; you didn't kill this man out of malice. You did what you had to do to survive. If I could have, I'd have done it twenty years ago. You succeeded where I failed. You're a treasure indeed. Now, though, you should rest."

"But I killed him," Allette said, suddenly overcome with emotion.

"Yes, you did," Thundegar said, his voice soft, his tone gentle. "If it makes you feel any better, that man tried to kill me and others before me."

"But Sensi said no one had been thrown from the Heights since you."

Thundegar laughed a harsh, bitter laugh. "I assume people learned not to speak out against the corruption and hypocrisy after I was thrown. The thrower was not a man of moral fortitude; he was known for taking bribes. I found this to be true on the day of my trial. I bribed him not to throw me, and he took the money, yet he tossed me from that cliff without a second thought. No. I've no sadness over his death, and neither should you."

"What did you do?" Allette asked, but Thundegar didn't answer; instead he just turned and closed the door.

Chapter 6

In the dawning of a new age, civilization has the opportunity to reinvent itself and equal opportunity to destroy itself.

--Nat Dersinger, prophet

* * *

Clear skies and a favorable wind gave them what must have been record speed. Though the journey had taken weeks, it was but a fraction of the time it would have taken a normal ship. Truly, what Pelivor and Gwen could accomplish was amazing. Under the direction of Fasha, who was as competent a sailor as Sinjin had ever seen, the ship operated smoothly. Benjin oversaw anything not currently under his wife's supervision, and between them, they kept the largely inexperienced crew working safely. In truth, the ship had been constructed to allow just two people to sail her, though she could hold a much larger crew.

Sinjin knew the stories about the ship; it had been carved by his father and Benjin when his mother was pregnant with him. He was grateful to have something he could lay his hands on that was connected to both of them. In many ways, this ship brought him solace; it gave him the connection to his past that he needed while he figured out what he wanted to accomplish with his future. And that was the crux of his problem. He'd not yet figured out exactly what it was he was trying to achieve.

Part of him wanted to disappear, to go to one of the places Benjin talked about and live out his life in peace. It was not what his mother would have done. She would have taken on Trinda. He knew the stories, and he knew his mother had stood up for what she thought was right even before she knew she had power. That was, quite precisely, how she had come to know that she had power. Sinjin had always hoped that some event in his life would trigger power of his own, but he'd never told anyone how much he feared that very same thing. He'd seen the burden power put on those who possessed it and the danger it created for everyone they loved.

Gwen stood at the thrust tubes, Pelivor closer to the prow. Watching the man fly the ship was among the most unusual things Sinjin had ever seen. At times, the lithe but well-muscled man stood with his arms spread out wide, and Sinjin could almost feel the energy cast out to his sides. Now, though, Pelivor had gone to one knee, his other leg shoved out behind him. His arms were still extended, only now they were rotated so his cupped palms faced up. His movements were graceful, and there was a certain beauty to each of the postures. When he rotated his shoulders, Sinjin heard snaps and pops as bones realigned.

"A man can only stand in the same position for so long," Pelivor said when he saw Sinjin watching him.

"I'm just amazed you can keep us in the air while doing
 . . . whatever it was that you were doing."

"It is an ancient art," Pelivor said. "It is part dance, part fitness and strength, and part fighting technique. You may follow along next time I stretch."

"I don't think I could get myself into those poses," Sinjin said.

"And that is why you need
Keni'ta.
It takes time and commitment, but by working at it every day, you will be able to do as I do. I had trouble at first, just as you."

"Thanks," Sinjin said. The two had not talked much during the trip. Pelivor spent most of his time flying the ship, and Sinjin had never felt comfortable interrupting him. It seemed a great deal safer to let the man concentrate. And when he wasn't flying, Pelivor was usually eating or sleeping. Sinjin knew it was for him that he and the crew did these things and felt unworthy. Even now, as they were approaching the Godfist, he still had no idea what to do. The only thing he could think of was to send a messenger and ask to see Uncle Chase. He had no idea what the relationships were like now, which made things even more difficult. Perhaps it would be better to ask to see Durin; he was certainly a less threatening person than his uncle.

"There is something else I've wanted to talk with you about," Pelivor said, and Sinjin looked up in surprise. Pelivor held out his cupped palm, and inside Sinjin noticed for the first time that it held a translucent sphere. At first he thought it was a herald globe, but there was something different about it. It did not glow, for one thing, but also there seemed to be something inside it. When Pelivor turned his hand to give Sinjin a different angle, he saw there was a black and red spider within the glass.

"What is that?" Sinjin asked.

"I'm not exactly certain," Pelivor said. "Your mother gave it to me. She found it when fighting to save the regent queen. I do know that it can hold a great deal of energy, and that I can draw from this energy over a long period of time. It is one of the reasons I've been able to fly for as long as I have. But now that you are home, I want you to have it."

"No."

"But--"

"No," Sinjin said again. "It would be useless to me, just as Koe and the staff are. I tried to give Koe to Gwen, but she wouldn't take him." A look of surprise crossed Pelivor's face, but he said nothing. "If I keep them, I only endanger myself since those with power will surely want these items for themselves. It would be better if I charged those around me with power to look after these objects and do what good they can with them."

Clearly deep in thought, Pelivor remained silent for a time. Sinjin was continually amazed that the man kept the ship flying while they conversed.

"I will speak to the others about this," Pelivor said.

Sinjin was about to protest when the lookout, Sinjin's grandfather Wendel, shouted out, "Debris!" A moment later, he shouted, "It looks like a log! A big one! More debris! And there's a storm a-comin' fast!"

Though objects in the water were no danger to them, the coming storm was, and Pelivor slowed the ship. Sinjin did something he rarely did; he looked down from the railing. The sensation of height gave him a cold, tingling feeling. Below, he saw the log that his grandfather had spotted, but something about it troubled him. The ends were not rough, and there were no branches. Then waves rolled the log to reveal a hollowed-out underside.

"Man in the water!" Wendel shouted.

Pelivor wasted no time in bringing the ship lower, and Millie shouted curses from the galley. Belatedly, Pelivor said, "Uh, I'm taking us down!"

The cursing from the galley was renewed and increasingly creative.

Sinjin moved away from the rail and helped the crew prepare a boat to be lowered to the water. Pelivor did his best to bring them down gently, but he normally did so over a great distance. He did at least yell before they hit the water. The ship slowed abruptly, shifting anything and everything forward. No matter how well secured the cargo, such abrupt changes in speed shifted the load. The crew moved with extra caution. Pelivor rushed to the railing and was preparing to climb into the rescue boat, but Benjin held him back. Sinjin went over the railing before anyone could protest. Morif joined him and they were lowered into the growing waves.

Sinjin had spent very little of his time at sea in view of the water, and he was amazed by the power of it. In this tiny boat, he was surrounded by deep blue waves that dwarfed him. The
Dragon's Wing
moved up and down independently and occasionally disappeared behind the rolling waves. Sinjin's guts clenched, and he prayed the ship would reappear every time he lost sight of it. All this he felt, while at the same time rowing desperately toward where the man had been spotted in the water.

Moments later Morif cried out, "There!"

Looking to where the old soldier pointed, Sinjin tried to find the man. All he could see was glistening water that lifted them high then sent them falling into the next trough. As they raced down one wave, though, he saw a dark shape in the water. Rowing as hard as they could, Sinjin and Morif did everything they could to get closer, but the wind and waves worked against them.

"Now! Row!" Morif screamed as they crested a towering wave. Just as they pitched forward atop the crest, Sinjin saw the darkened sky, and lightning flashed across the richly woven canvas of thunderheads. Rowing as if all their lives depended on it, the two made progress. When they finally reached the no-longer-struggling form, Sinjin feared they were too late. Grabbing the man, Sinjin pulled him into the boat. Morif used his weight to counter Sinjin's every move, making certain they didn't capsize in the effort to save what appeared to be a dead man.

Once Sinjin and Morif had gotten the man into the boat, he did as his father had taught him and tried to clear the water from the man's lungs and tried blowing air into his mouth while holding his nose. Just as the man coughed and came to, something struck the boat; it was the canoe. Or as Sinjin found out a moment later, it was
a
canoe; several now clogged the water around them. Clinging to one was another man, who shouted. Sinjin had known instantly that the first man was Arghast, and seeing another in the water along with at least three canoes was cause for greater concern.

"More people in the water!" Morif shouted. "Drop all the boats!"

Sinjin looked toward where Morif rowed while pulling as hard as he could on the oars; the waves were more than even the boats could handle. This was what bravery was, he thought, doing the right thing even if it meant risking your life; it terrified him, and he felt like a coward. Part of him wanted to go back to the ship and let those stronger than he rescue the Arghast. Then he saw her, a young, vibrant woman struggling to keep her head above the raging waters. Without thinking, Sinjin dived into the deep blue. In the next moment, he was with her, helping her swim back to the boat, which seemed farther away than it should have been. Morif rowed toward them with little effect, and his shouts were lost to the rushing wind.

A moment later, a boat with Gwen and Kendra aboard crested the nearest wave and raced toward them. Kendra reached out to him while Gwen counterbalanced. Sinjin lifted the Arghast woman to the boat, and Kendra pulled her in. Then Sinjin did his best to get into the boat without capsizing them. Kendra grabbed him by his breeches and yanked. It sent him into the bottom of the boat face-first, and his legs hung awkwardly out of the boat, but he was no longer in immediate danger of drowning.

The girls rowed with more strength than Sinjin would have given them credit for, and that gave him another good reason not to make either of them angry. They soon caught up with Morif, who was trying to teach his barely conscious passenger to row. A goodly distance still separated them from the
Dragon's Wing,
and Sinjin shouted over the wind, "Take me back to Morif! He needs help!"

"Try to remember that before you go in the water next time, you idiot," Kendra said, and for once, Gwen agreed with her. Sinjin instinctively knew this was a very bad sign, but the situation would not allow him to think about it.

As soon as Kendra laid her hands on Morif's boat, Sinjin was moving, trying desperately to switch boats, then realizing just how crazy of an idea that really was. The boats moved independently on the waves, and standing in one was bad enough, but once he had one foot in each boat, he was stuck trying to maintain his shifting footing. The Arghast man he'd saved then returned the favor and pulled him in as he began to fall. Had the man not intervened, Sinjin would most likely have ended up back in the water.

Grabbing an oar, Sinjin rowed with all his might, as did Morif. Rain pelted them and made it difficult to see, but the crew had lit every lantern aboard the ship, it seemed, and it glowed like a beacon of hope. Gwen and Kendra had already made their way back to the ship, and Sinjin saw the shadow of a woman lifted aboard. A smile crossed his face. Whatever else happened that day, he'd saved that woman's life. He supposed he and the Arghast man in the boat with him were even; they had each saved the other. The poor man looked terrified by the raging waves around them. Sinjin shared his concern for their lives, but there was something in the man's face that said his mind was having trouble absorbing newly found truths.

Kendra and Gwen said nothing as they rowed back toward where the others had been found, and Sinjin tried not to think about it. All he could do at that moment was row and hope he could save as many people as possible. There had to be more.

"How many of you are there?" Sinjin shouted while he rowed.

The Arghast man looked at him for a moment as if deep in thought, and he put his arms out wide and said, "Tribe."

Cold realizations washed over Sinjin, adding to the chill of his soaked clothes. An entire tribe was in the water, and the storm was upon them. The instant they reached the loading net, Sinjin helped the tribesman out of the boat and onto the net. Then he shouted up to the deck, "The entire tribe is in the water!"

No words came back immediately, and he and Morif wasted no time in starting back the way they had come. It was difficult to gauge direction in the stormy waves, the
Dragon's Wing
the only reference point they had. The wind was in their faces, and they hadn't made it far before Benjin cried out, "The storm is too much! You'll never make it back!"

Sinjin met Morif's eye. Both nodded and they accepted that possibility. Renewed by the acceptance and driven by sincere desire to save people, Sinjin found strength he hadn't known he possessed. As the wind shifted, there were moments they heard shouting in the distance, but those moments were brief and fleeting, making it nearly impossible to figure out where the sounds were coming from. Lightning illuminated the waters for a moment, and Sinjin thought he saw something in the distance--a patch of water that did not reflect the light. The shouts that came for an instant seemed to confirm that this was the place. Shouting and pointing, Sinjin made sure Morif saw it as well, and the man simply started rowing in that direction. The wind shifted again, now blowing from behind them, for once easing their passage and taking them closer to the place where the water did not reflect.