Waterdance (31 page)

I am—

“Peri!”

Peri groaned in protest at returning consciousness. Then sensation returned and she cried out hoarsely as pain jarred rhythmically through her body, unbelievable hot agony ripping through her vitals. Dimly she realized Atheris had at some point pulled the sword out of her and was now carrying her, trotting along as fast as he could—but why was he stumbling in that way, crashing against one side of the corridor, making the agony flare again in her guts, then crashing against the other side so that she nearly fainted again from the pain? Why was he staggering, barely keeping his feet under him? Surely the shaking, the rumbling was only inside her—

And the screams—

“Hold on,” Atheris gasped over the rumbling, over strange dull explosions. “Hold on a little longer. Do you hear me?” He leaned against the wall and shook her, or perhaps it was the wall that shook. “Do you hear me? Answer me!”

“All right,” Peri said weakly, annoyed. “All right, I hear you.”

Stumbling through darkness, through light, falling to his knees—AGONY!—and pushing himself up again, but Peri’s consciousness faltered.

Then the night breeze was soft on her face, and the sound of horses whickering nearby was sweet and familiar. And heavy clouds blocked her view of the stars, but that was all right because there was still the open air and the horses, honest earth under her back, and, yes, the sweetness of the wind in her hair. She saw Atheris only dimly in the darkness, but she felt his cold tears falling on her face, and she was grateful, so grateful he’d given her this one last gift.

“Thank you,” she whispered, wishing she could say more. But it was hard to breathe, so hard.

“Oh no, Peri,” Atheris said, right in her face, his breath fanning her cheeks. “You have not yet given me all that I need.”

Then his lips met hers and she tasted her own blood, and fierce hot pain exploded in her vitals as Atheris took what he wanted from her—

And gave her darkness at last.

Chapter Nine

Cold. So cold.
So very, very cold. Peri opened her eyes and saw only darkness, heard a strange roaring hiss around her, and for a moment sheer terror gripped her soul. Had she somehow failed to restore her honor? Had her death on Sarkondish soil, in a Sarkondish temple, denied her the freedom of flight in Mahdha’s embrace? Had she—

She sucked in a deep breath and pain made her expel it again immediately in a groan.

Pain. Cold. Darkness. I’m not dead. Nothing hurts this badly but life.

“Awake at last,” Atheris murmured, bending over her. She could barely see him, but she heard the relief in his voice. “I would say ‘Thank Eregis,’ but I fear He had nothing to do with it.”

“It’s so dark,” Peri whispered.

“We are under an overhang,” he said. “And I made a lean
-
to against it with a blanket for shelter. I dared not move you far.”

Peri shivered, then could not stop shivering.

“So cold,” she said, her teeth chattering uncontrollably. “I’m so cold.”

Atheris chuckled, and then the warmth of his body against her side was the sweetest, most luxurious sensation she’d ever felt.

“You are cold,” he said, “because your hair, your clothes, our blankets, everything we own is soaked through. And that, my Bregondish warrior lady, is why there is no fire, because there is no dry tinder to be had.”

No dry—for a moment Peri had the absurd notion that Atheris’s tears had somehow drenched everything they owned. Then her mind finally fumbled the pieces together—cold, wet, that sound around her.

“Rain?” she whispered disbelievingly. “Is it rain?”

Atheris chuckled again, and a flash of lightning, followed by a resounding clap of thunder, answered her before he could.

“My lady, it is rain the likes of which my land has not seen in decades,” he said. “You and I can count ourselves fortunate if we are not flooded out of our poor hiding place within the hour. But I dared not move you far before, and now the storm has grown so strong that I think it would be more dangerous to go than to stay.”

Peri took a deep breath, which aborted in a fit of coughing. A dull pain seemed to echo off the walls inside her chest, but she knew, and wondered at the knowing, that it was only the ache and sensitivity of newly healed flesh.

“I’m alive,” she murmured. “I can’t possibly be alive. I can’t.” The realization came with a confusing mélange of emotions—wonder, relief, apprehension, dread. She couldn’t be alive. Atheris’s stroke had been true. She’d felt Mahdha’s breath all around her. She had died. How could she be alive again? Had Atheris’s magic included necromancy, pulled her back from her flight into her dead flesh? What kind of monstrous thing did that make her?

Atheris leaned over her, and a flash of lightning lit the sky—even through the blanket there was enough light to show her the reassurance in his eyes.

“You gave me the use of your water sensitivity,” he said. “At the moment when life was leaving you there was nothing to prevent me from touching your healing magic as well. There was power aplenty around us, more than enough for even so great a healing, and you had the skill I needed to guide it.” Another flash of lightning showed Peri his smile. “Besides, as you know, I have some acquaintance with death. I denied her successfully once before. Tonight I dared do so again.”

He chuckled.

“That effrontery will cost me, no doubt, someday when I meet Lady Death again and can no longer refuse her embrace.”

“Lady Death?” Peri asked dubiously.

Atheris’s fingers touched her cheek.

“Perian, after dancing the Ithuara with you, there is no doubt in my mind that death is a woman.” His lips brushed hers ever so lightly. “And a lady of quality.”

Peri raised her hand, surprised to find herself tired, but not as weak as she would have expected. The front of her tunic was torn open—by Atheris, no doubt—but she felt no embarrassment, only wonder and consternation as her fingertips found the scar just under her sternum.

“You have another on your back,” Atheris said, touching her hand. “And I have no doubt it will give you pain in bad weather such as this.” He chuckled again. “Unfortunately you were attended by a healer of considerable power but no experience or skill of his own whatsoever.”

Peri felt no answering levity. Her fingertips traced the scar again. There was a faint coldness within her, a memory of darkness.

It is a test that leaves its mark upon the spirit even more than the body.

“The temple?” she asked slowly, trying to distract herself. “We did it, didn’t we? Raised Eregis?”

“Yes.” The humor was gone from Atheris’s voice, and Peri felt him tremble against her. He was silent for a long moment.

“We raised the greatest power I have ever touched,” he said at last. “We brought it bursting up out of the earth. And once it was freed—the rain, it almost came of itself. The force of the explosion, the shaking of the earth—the temple was falling down around me as I carried you out. Some surely escaped, but many must have died.” He fell silent.

Peri remembered the slaughterhouse above the central chamber and shivered. Yes, many had died.

“One final sacrifice,” she said.

Atheris shivered, too.

“As soon as you are strong enough,” he said slowly, “we should go. There were many people running around outside the temple—guards, worshipers, priests. It was very chaotic and many will simply flee, surely. But I think when the storm dies some will be back—to look for survivors trapped in the rubble, perhaps, or even to loot the wreckage for the temple’s treasures. There will be guards, priests—perhaps even Bone Hunters. We must be gone before then.”

Peri sat up, grimacing at the dull pain.

“I can ride,” she said.

Atheris laid his hand on her shoulder, pushing her back gently; she resisted stubbornly.

“You cannot,” he said. “You need rest.”

Peri chuckled bitterly.

“I’m a Bregond,” she said. “I can ride blind, deaf, sound asleep, half-dead, through fire or earthquakes or windstorms. Trust me, if you can lead, I can stay in the saddle.”

Atheris pushed her back again more strongly, and this time Peri lay back irritably.

“When we are both struck by lightning,” he said patiently, “there will be nobody left to drag us back from the edge of death. The storm is moving north—slowly, but it is moving. As soon as it is safe, we will go, even through hard rain, I promise. But in the meantime there is nothing to do but rest.”

Peri could not argue with that, but now that she was awake it seemed impossible to sleep again.

“Did you check the packs?” she said. “Is everything there? Our supplies, gold, weapons—”

Atheris hesitated for a long moment.

“Our packs are intact,” he said slowly. “Even your healer’s bag and our gold.”

“But?” Peri pressed.

“But—” He hesitated a moment longer, then sighed. “Your sword. You dropped it in the temple.”

Peri bolted upright, ignoring the pain this time.

“My sword,” she whispered. Oh, Mahdha, no, not that, not the one thing I’ve held on to, not when I’ve lost everything else.

“Peri, we have gold enough,” Atheris said hurriedly. “We will buy another, the best steel that can be bought.”

“My sword,” she said through clenched teeth, “was the best steel that can be bought. My foster brother, my best friend and instructor and clan leader, had it made for me when I learned the Ithuara. I’d rather leave my right leg behind.” When Atheris said nothing, she added acidly, “You’ve got your prophecy, you’ve got your rain. If I get myself killed now, it hardly matters, right?”

Peri felt Atheris recoil slightly at her words. Then, unexpectedly, his lips crushed down on hers in the darkness and lightning flashed through her; weariness, pain forgotten, she
pulled him to her, her fingers digging hard into his shoulders. There was a brief fumbling struggle with wet clothes; then Atheris’s skin was wonderfully hot against hers, and it was as if the warmth of life itself entered her body again. She clung to him with all her strength as if he was her only anchor to this world, but by the time the wave of pleasure crested and broke, Peri knew without doubt that she was alive again.

“All right,” she gasped against Atheris’s cheek, still holding him close as their hearts slowed. “All right. You win. It matters.”

Atheris chuckled in her ear, then drew back slightly, enough that Peri caught a glimpse of his smile when the lightning flashed—outside, this time.

“More than battle heat, remember?” he said gently.

Peri flushed.

“Yes,” she said, so softly that she could barely hear herself over the rain. “More than battle heat.”

Atheris gazed at her a moment longer, then pulled a tunic out of the pack and handed it to her.

“We will find your sword if we can,” he said. He grinned. “A fine strong blade is worth some risk to keep.”

Peri chuckled wryly.

“You can take that to the market and buy—”

“—two skins of brandy and a hot bath, if I had my way,” Atheris said, chuckling, too. “Come. Best go now if we are going. Anyone near the ruins now will be more concerned with themselves than us, and when the storm lessens, we should start south.”

Peri and Atheris’s robes, on which they had been lying, were damp from the wet ground but better protection from the rain than the soggy blankets. Atheris insisted that Peri rest while he loaded the horses, but she balked at riding while he led. In any event, as he had said, the storm was still violent enough that riding was a risk she preferred not to take.

Peri was amazed and appalled to see what she and Atheris had wrought upon the temple. The slight rise on which it had been built was now a noticeable concavity in the earth, and the once majestic structure was now little more than a huge, jumbled heap of stone blocks and broken columns. Even the gate and outer wall were a complete shambles. Peri’s heart sank. There was no chance at all that she and Atheris could make their way back to what had been the central chamber.

Then she saw the still forms scattered here and there in the ruins and she swallowed hard, struck silent by the sight. Many had lost much more than a sword. Eregis had had his final sacrifice, indeed, and it had been a great and bloody one. Peri closed her eyes.

A few tears won’t grieve this one away, she thought numbly. How do I weigh the lives we saved against the lives we ended here by our deeds? She thought of the guards she’d “mercifully” left alive, locked in her grandfather’s cell, and swallowed hard against the lump rising in her throat.

Atheris said nothing, but he led the horses closer without hesitation, not wincing from the sight. He walked up to the nearest body and bent down, touching the throat. He shook his head briefly and stood again, but Peri had known even before he stooped that no life remained in that pale form. There was no life here; hours had passed since the temple fell, and those who had survived had already walked or staggered away, alone or with the help of their fellows. She could feel that clearly even—

No!

Peri grabbed Atheris’s arm, shouting over the noise of rain and thunder.

“Over there!” she said, pointing. “I think there’s someone still alive.”

Atheris glanced at her strangely, but obligingly pulled the horses in the direction she had indicated. Peri had to steady herself against the nearest horse as she followed. She couldn’t blame Atheris for his skepticism. She’d never been enough of a healer to sense anything at such a distance, much less through a downpour like this.

Then through the darkness Peri caught a glimpse of gold partially under a fallen column, and for a moment her breath caught as she remembered the golden statue of Eregis in the center of the temple. Had the statue been thrown clear of the
ruins somehow, or had, incredibly, the god indeed risen and walked? Given the sheer power she and Atheris had raised, Peri was not prepared to discount the latter possibility entirely.

A second glance, however, told her that what she’d seen was only the edge of a gold-trimmed robe, and for a moment she let out her breath in a sigh of relief; then she froze again as she recognized the robe and remembered when she’d last seen it. Atheris stopped, too, apparently sharing her recognition; then he moved forward more slowly, and Peri made no effort to hasten him.