The Destroyer Goddess (72 page)

There was nothing. And then—quite suddenly—there was
pain
. The contrast, the stunning instant journey from a dark empty void to such vivid sensation, was as startling as the pain itself.

"
Argh!
"

Water flooded his throat. He choked on it, then got slammed against a rock again—which made him inhale again, which made him start strangling again.

What in the Fires...

Dazed, confused, and probably about to drown, he had sense enough to cling to the next rock he was smashed against, rather than letting the sea continue to toss him around like flotsam. 

It dawned on him that there shouldn't be any rocks here. They were well out to sea... 

"Agh!"

Nonetheless, he realized, these were definitely rocks he was being flung against. And he was pretty sure he was bleeding now.

Zarien hung there for a few moments, trying to catch his breath and gather his senses. He remembered seeing a boat, slapped around by a huge wave, careen into Ronall and send him under, unconscious and perhaps already dead. Zarien remembered diving repeatedly, searching for him, unwilling to accept that Ronall had finally found the death which, in a way, it had always seemed he was half-seeking—might even consider a release, a relief. But the sea-born did not easily give up their dead to the merciless waters on which they lived. And besides, Zarien liked Ronall and was sorry he hadn't shown it more. So he kept diving beneath the roaring, tumbling surface of the furious sea. Until...

I got... caught in a wave
. 

He remembered now. The waves had been so enormous, unlike anything he'd ever seen before, even in the worst of storms. One had swept him up, denying him air, oblivious to his attempts to escape its immense power. He remembered the burning in his lungs, the weakening of his limbs, the terrible fear as he realized...

I was dying
.

Had the wave carried him this far? All the way to shore? Even if it had, how had he survived? It didn't seem possible. He couldn't remember anything that had happened after the burning in his lungs led to a blackness in his head which finally engulfed him.

Now he became aware of something bumping gently but insistently against his back. One of his hands let go of the rock and fumbled behind him. His blood ran cold when he touched it and instantly recognized what it was. 

Zarien took a few harsh breaths, then willed himself to grasp the oar. He flung it up onto the shore, then laboriously hauled himself out of the water, climbing up after it. He rested on his hands and knees, panting hard, and stared at it. 

It was the
stahra
which Sharifar had given him when she sent him ashore for the first time, in search of the sea king.

He suspected he had died again. And she had spared him a second time. Why? So he would bring Tansen to her? Well, he never would!
Never
. 

Zarien's head was pounding and he couldn't think clearly. He was also dying of thirst. How long had he been in the water?

How long have I been dead?

Zarien rose to his feet, shaking in reaction, and looked down at the
stahra
. 

"No, Sharifar. I won't do it."

She should have killed him when she had the chance. He turned his back on the
stahra
and walked away from it, turning his back on Sharifar, too.

He supposed that was foolish. He'd probably have to go right back to sea to find out what had happened to Najdan and the Lascari, and then Sharifar would take her revenge on him. He tried not to think about it, though, because he would not pick up that
stahra
and renew his pact with her. He would
not
.

As Tansen would say, focus on the task at hand
.

Which, for now, meant finding water. He felt very disoriented, but he could tell he'd washed ashore at the southern end of the bay, well beyond where people were counting the dead and gathering to mourn their losses. He wasn't familiar with this coast, but he let his senses lead him, and soon he found what he sought—a small pool of sweetwater gathered in the rocks well beyond the shore. 

He drank his fill, then realized he'd need to find someone with an intact boat who could take him back out into the bay in search of the Lascari. Tired and depressed, he started wandering among the sea-born stragglers, making his way along the shore, asking for news about the Lascari and for a boat to take him to them. It seemed he did this for a very long time, wearing himself out, before someone finally encouraged him.

"You're looking for the Lascari?" said a deep voice behind him.

"Yes!" he whirled to face the man. "Do you know what's happened to them? Or can you take me..."

His voice trailed off and his head felt light as he took in the man's appearance. Tall, short-haired, powerful looking. His clothes were well-made, and he was handsome despite the long scar running down one cheek.

Zarien choked on his shock and started stumbling backwards. "
Searlon."

"Ah. Zarien, I presume? I've been looking for you for a long time."

"Stay away from me!"

Someone asked them, "Is there a problem here?"

"Yes!" Zarien said.

"The boy is upset," Searlon said smoothly, gesturing to the sea. "His family, you know."

"Of course," said the sea-born stranger, moving on.

"Wait!" Zarien wanted to run after him, but he was afraid to turn his back on Searlon.

"I won't hurt you." The assassin stood still.

No one else came close to them. Perhaps they sensed how dangerous Searlon was? 

Zarien said, "I saw what you did to my family!"

"They aren't your family," Searlon said gently. "Not anymore. They told me you were dead. Zarien, they
wanted
you to be dead."

"No, they—"

"Tansen will want you dead, too, when he knows the truth."

"He won't!"

Searlon's dark gaze sharpened. "Then you know?"

"No!" Zarien shouted, feeling naked before this stranger. "I don't know anything!"

"You do know," Searlon said with certainty, still not moving. "Does Tansen know yet? Has he already tried to kill you? Is that why you're wandering alone and unprotec—"

"
Kill me
? No!"

"He doesn't know, does he? But he'll find out, you know." Searlon warned him, "In the end, he
will
find out."

"No," Zarien said, and then was sorry he'd spoken. "I mean..."

"There's still time for you to escape him. I can help."

"No, you've come to kill me! He's been protecting me from you!"

"That's what he thinks, but only because he doesn't yet know who you are," said Searlon. "I know, and I want to help."

"No, you don't!" He should run away, not stand here rooted to the ground and talking to this assassin. But he couldn't. He was too terrified to move. "I've heard how clever you are. You'll trick me, and then when I don't expect—"

"You're still a boy, and I am very good at what I do," Searlon said, his expression kind. "I don't need to trick you to kill you. I haven't come for that. I've come to protect you from Tansen."

"I don't need protection from Tansen!"

"Do you know he killed his own bloodfather?"

"Leave me a..." Zarien felt like he was falling, but he was still standing. As if the inaccuracy mattered, as if it were reasonable to discuss this now, he said, "Tansen never had a bloodfather."

"Oh, yes, he did. And he killed him."

"No, he..." Zarien frowned. "No."

"Has he never told you why he left Sileria for nine years? The exact length of a Society bloodvow?" 

"What does that matter? It's not... I don't care..."

"Kiloran swore a bloodvow against him because Tansen murdered someone Kiloran cared about."

"He..." Zarien didn't want to listen.
Shouldn't
listen. "He did?"

Searlon nodded. "His own bloodfather."

"No." Zarien shook his head. "He wouldn't do something like that. He believes in... He
wouldn't.
"

"He never told you he had a bloodfather, did he?"

"I... No, but, I don't believe you!"

"Yes, you do," Searlon said, and, by saying it, somehow made it true. "Don't you wonder why he never told you, his own bloodson, that he himself had a bloodfather?"

"I... You're... Why should I believe—"

"And do you know
why
Tansen killed the man who loved him enough to become his father?"

"You're lying!"

"Because that man was a waterlord's son, Zarien."

His heart was pounding, his blood roaring in his ears. He felt dizzy and sick. He wanted to throw up. Wanted to run away. "You're making this up. Just to make it easy to kill me. So I won't run away or..." He was breathing hard, his head throbbing. Tears misted his eyes, and he fought them.

He knew Searlon didn't need to catch him off guard. If Searlon was as skilled as Najdan, he could have killed Zarien by now, and then just as easily killed or evaded anyone in their vicinity who objected.

"Zarien," said the assassin, "I know what Tansen will do to you when he finds out."

"No." Zarien felt his lips tremble, heard his voice crack.

"His father loved him, too, just as you do," Searlon said sympathetically. "His father believed in him, too. Trusted him, too. And Tansen beat him to death with a
yahr
."

Zarien felt like he was choking on his own breath.

Did your father die terribly?
he had asked Tansen.

Zarien said insistently to Searlon, "Outlookers killed Tansen's father."

The assassin nodded. "His sire. When he was very young."

Tansen's nights were tormented by terrible dreams of his past. Sometimes he cried for his father... His bloodfather?

No, no, no!

The silence was awful. Within it, Zarien again heard everything Searlon had just told him.

I know what Tansen will do to you when he finds out
.

"Come with me before it's too late," Searlon urged quietly. "Let us protect you. It's what my master wants more than anything."

"
Zarien!"

He flinched at the sound of his name, having forgotten about the world surrounding them. He turned and saw a man in dark, tattered clothing running toward them.

"Najdan?" he murmured incredulously.

"
Najdan
." Searlon's voice was like ice.

Najdan slowed to a walk as he approached them, his eyes hard as he watched Searlon. To Zarien he said, "Ronall said you would still be alive." 

"Ronall's not dead?" Zarien blurted.

Najdan moved to stand between him and Searlon. "A moment later, and the
toren
would have been wrong."

"This is a pleasant surprise, Najdan," Searlon said. "I've looked forward to killing you ever since you betrayed our master, but you've been very elusive."

"You've searched harder for this helpless boy than you've searched for me," Najdan replied coldly.

"Oh, I doubt he's helpless," Searlon said. "Though I suppose only time will tell. Najdan, have you never noticed anything unusual about him? I would have thought that you, of all people—"

"You talk too much." Najdan's
shir
appeared in his hand, glittering with the unnatural brilliance of an assassin's unique weapon. "Let's finish this work."

"By all means."

"No!" Zarien cried as Searlon dropped to the ground to kick Najdan's legs out from under him.

Incredibly, Najdan evaded the move, then did a diving roll and nearly gutted Searlon—who hit Najdan with his elbow, then rolled on top of him with his
shir
raised. Zarien didn't even know where Searlon's
shir
had come from or when he'd reached for it. 

Najdan punched Searlon with the hilt of his
shir
, then the two of them rolled over and over on the ground, struggling in silence. Zarien became aware of people screaming all around them, gathering to watch. No one interfered, though. It would be deadly to intervene. Besides, these two men were assassins. This was their way. This had always been their way.

Searlon and Najdan were both like Tansen when they fought, their faces revealing no emotion, their concentration fierce, their moves fast and effective. Zarien tried to think of a way to make them stop, since he didn't want either of them to die because of him. He was afraid to shout or plead, let alone come between them, lest it distract one of them and give the other a deadly advantage.

For a terrible moment, it seemed Searlon would win as he pinned Najdan to the ground and moved his blade to the other man's throat. Then Najdan's legs rose to grasp Searlon's neck between his ankles while he heaved his body, and Searlon flew backward. Both men rose to their feet and started circling each other.

"You've made bad choices,
sriliah
," Searlon said with open contempt.

"Not as bad as murdering Josarian's sister in Sanctuary," Najdan said with equal disdain.

"It was distasteful," Searlon replied, "but less so than betraying Kiloran must have been."

"It was also foolish. Sileria will never forgive what you did."

"What we gained—"

"Was nothing," Najdan said.

"I see Mirabar doesn't confide—"

"I see you don't know the truth." Najdan's smile was cold. "You killed the wrong woman."

Searlon was disconcerted enough for Najdan to surprise him with a sudden attack, but the advantage was only momentary. Najdan retreated again, and the two of them fell silent as they engaged in a deadly dance of feints, counters, stabs, and passes. Zarien felt dizzy and realized he was forgetting to breathe.

Oh, please, Dar, please, make them stop
.

Najdan was older, and he was the one who started tiring first. If Zarien could see it, then surely Searlon could see it. Indeed, his increasingly confident expression suggested that he knew time was now on his side. 

"I will not..." Najdan was panting now. "...let you kill... Tansen's son."