Kushiel 03 - [Moirin 02] - Naamah's Curse

by Jacqueline Carey

  “Yes.” I wanted to leap to my feet and dance. “But… you?”

  “She stole the key and gave me a choice,” he murmured, his head bowed. “To do this myself and see you to the border, and take my own freedom. Or to let her free you, and watch her suffer the punishment for it. I chose. Hands, Moirin.”

  I held them out to him. “You chose this?”

  Aleksei gave me a pained, fleeting smile. “What is the fifth commandment that God inscribed on Moishe’s tablets?”

  This, too, I had memorized. “Honor your mother and father.”

  He nodded. “Even so.”

  One shackle opened. I raised my left hand, shaking it. I didn’t feel any different yet, and a creeping fear filled me. I tried to take comfort from the spark of my diadh-anam inside me, but I was scared. What if that were the most I would ever feel? What if the damage done to me were permanent? What if God and Yeshua were punishing me after all? I had lied, I had violated the sanctity of their rites. I whispered a soft prayer for their forgiveness as Aleksei unlocked the second wrist cuff.

  “That almost sounded genuine,” he murmured, moving behind me to unlock the collar around my neck.

  “It was.”

  “I’m pleased.” Aleksei got the lock undone and removed the silver collar, the chains coming away with it.

  My diadh-anam blazed riotously as my senses opened and expanded in a hectic rush, my awareness surging outward to embrace the world. All of my senses were suddenly keener, sharper, more alert.

  I laughed aloud for the sheer joy of it. “Aleksei, Aleksei, I can see again! I can feel!”

  “Hush,” he cautioned me, looking perplexed. “But you weren’t blind, Moirin. Were you?”

  Bao. Where was Bao? I stood and turned instinctively, seeking the beacon of his diadh-anam.

  It was far away, far to the south, and fainter than it ought to be even at such a distance. I frowned, wondering what that meant. Was he ill? Injured? It seemed I should have felt some flare of recognition in his diadh-anam at sensing mine unveiled after so long. But mayhap I was wrong. After all, this was uncharted territory. Insofar as I knew, no one had ever had the divine spark of the Maghuin Dhonn Herself divided and shared with another living soul.

  “Moirin?”

  I glanced at Aleksei, still looking perplexed. Fretting over Bao would have to wait. I had a long way to go before I was safe. Wherever he was, my magpie could take care of himself. “Not blind, no, but something akin to it. The chains blocked my sense of magic in the world.”

  “I see.” Now he looked uneasy.

  “You will,” I said to him. “Close your eyes a moment.” Although he didn’t like it, he obeyed. I took a deep breath, let it out, took another and summoned the twilight, breathing it out over both of us.

  It settled over me like an embrace, soft and gentle, drenching the lamp-lit cell in silvery-violet dusk, turning it into a magical place. It felt like a homecoming, like being reunited with a long-lost love.

  I smiled. “Now, see.”

  Aleksei opened his eyes. “Oh!” Wonder dawned over his features. “It’s… it’s so beautiful!”

  “Aye.” I breathed it deep into my lungs, along with the scent of pine-trees growing on the outskirts of town. I longed to touch their rough bark, listen to their slow thoughts. “Now you’ve seen the great and terrible sin of witchcraft at work.”

  “It’s beautiful,” he repeated. “And you… you’re beautiful in it.” He smiled shyly at me. “Even more so, I mean. And it doesn’t feel like a sin.”

  I touched his cheek. “Thank you, my sweet boy. Now, how do we get ourselves safely away from here?”

  “Oh!” Caught up in the twilight’s charm, he’d nearly forgotten our plight. “Here.” He fetched a bundle from the floor and thrust it at me. “From my mother. Clothing, shoes, a head-scarf. Bread and cheese, as much as she could get on short notice.” He jingled a purse at his belt. “She had a little money. Not much.”

  “Blessed Valentina,” I murmured, shaking out the drab woolen dress. It was a good deal less conspicuous than my catechumen’s white robe. “Do we have waterskins? A striking kit? Bow and arrows?”

  “No.” Realizing I was preparing to change my clothes, modest Aleksei turned his back on me. “I’m sorry, Moirin. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

  “No matter.” I shed the robe, donned the dress. Shoved my feet into the shoes, and wrapped the scarf around my head. “We’ll find what we need along the way. You can turn around,” I added.

  He did, looking dubious. “We haven’t much coin, truly.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to say I’d gladly steal whatever was needful when my gaze fell on the hateful, discarded chains. “Actually, we do.” I picked up the chains. “These are nearly solid silver. They must be worth a small fortune.”

  Aleksei frowned. “You mean to steal them?”

  “Aye, sweet boy, I do,” I said. “As fair exchange for the months of my life stolen from me. They were made for me, were they not? And I mean to sell them to a smith who will melt them down and ensure they are never, ever used again to bind someone against their will.”

  He was silent a moment.

  I raised my brows at him. “Aleksei, whatever sins must be committed in the pursuit of freedom, I will gladly take on myself. If you are going to scruple at it, stay. Stay and take your punishment, and break your mother’s heart. Only tell me first where I might find a smithy south of Riva.”

  “Moirin, you can’t go south.”

  I glanced in the direction of Bao’s distant diadh-anam. “Oh, but I am.”

  “Not right away,” Aleksei said in stubborn tone. “That’s exactly where my uncle will look for you. And he will look, believe me.”

  I shrugged. “He cannot find me in the twilight.”

  “Can you work your magic while sleeping?” he asked shrewdly. “Can you be on guard every minute of every day? Do you imagine there’s a single village between here and the border that doesn’t remember you passing through it in those chains? It’s not a sight one forgets. Any smith you approach would know you in an instant for the Patriarch’s witch. Any baker in the market, any… anyone!” He shook his head. “I may not have thought this through, but this part, I have. It’s too dangerous to do exactly what my uncle will expect.”

  I didn’t like it, but he had a point. “Where, then? We haven’t much time to debate this.”

  “Udinsk,” Aleksei said promptly. “It’s a city some days away to the northeast. It’s a trade center. I thought I could find work there. I’m sure we could find a smith willing to ask no questions, and aught we need to purchase for the journey.”

  “The journey south,” I said.

  He nodded. “In two weeks’ time, my uncle will realize his mistake and begin searching farther afield. Then we can slip through, amply provisioned, hidden by your magic when need be.”

  I hesitated.

  Every impulse in me yearned to go south, toward Bao, to flee. To trust to my magic to conceal me, to my hard-won skills to allow me to survive. But I’d ventured into Tatar territory alone despite being warned of the danger and nearly died because of it; and I’d had all the supplies I thought I would need there. If I’d learned nothing else from this ordeal, I’d learned a measure of patience.

  And, too, there was Aleksei to consider. He was betraying everything he held dear to help me. I owed it to him, and especially to his mother, Valentina, not to do anything rash and impulsive for once in my life.

  “So be it,” I said. “Let’s go to Udinsk.”

  Cloaked in the twilight, we stole through the Patriarch’s living quarters, Aleksei carrying bread and cheese and a few weighty yards of bespelled silver chains knotted in a worn woolen blanket.

  My senses heightened in the twilight, I let my awareness roam through the quarters, touching on its inhabitants.

  Stone and sea, it was good to feel wholly myself once more!

  Pyotr Rostov slept deep and hard,
and the acrid taste of his dreams reminded me of the sulfur and saltpeter of the Divine Thunder. Even in his sleep, he was angry. I shuddered, and looked elsewhere.

  His wife, Luba, slept beside him, more lightly. She was smiling in her sleep, no doubt dreaming of selecting the perfect stone to hurl at me come dawn.

  Valentina…

  She was awake, kneeling in the antechamber by the outer door, her head bowed and her arms wrapped around herself, filled with a despairing mix of hope and fear.

  “Aleksei.” I touched his arm. “Your mother is waiting for us. I think she wishes to say farewell.”

  His eyes widened. “How do you know?”

  “I just do.”

  A moment later, he saw her huddled figure. A faint sound escaped him. Valentina didn’t hear it, didn’t raise her head. Aleksei glanced at me in alarm. “Moirin…”

  “It’s all right, sweet boy.” I brushed his cheek with my fingers. “I told you, they cannot see or hear us in the twilight. I will try to bring her into it.”

  I breathed it in deeper, blew it softly over Valentina, spinning it around her like a gentle cocoon.

  Her head came up. “How—?” She glanced all around her, eyes stretched wider than her son’s. “What is this? Am I dreaming?”

  I smiled at her, helping her to her feet. “No, my lady. It is only a small piece of magic. I will release it if you like, but I think it is better if I don’t. Your sister-in-law sleeps lightly, dreaming of cracking my skull open.”

  Valentina gave her broken laugh, hands rising involuntarily to stifle it. “Moirin. It is you. So Aleksei… he did it. He did it. Oh, God. God have mercy on me. I was afraid he wouldn’t. Will you…?”

  I nodded. “I will try.”

  She glanced at her son. In the twilight, the tears in her eyes shone like stars. “Aleksei…”

  He embraced her. “Mother.”

  Valentina clung to her tall, broad-shouldered son like a drowning woman—and mayhap she was. My heart ached for the both of them. She tugged his head down to her shoulder and whispered somewhat in his ear. What she said to him, I could not say. Even if I could have heard it, I would not have listened.

  Aleksei nodded, tears streaking his cheeks.

  I peered through the small window set into the outer door. It was hard to gauge the hour in the twilight, but the summer nights were short, and every hour of darkness was precious. “My lady, I’m sorry, but we have to go.”

  “Go.” With an effort, she released her son, turning him loose. “Go. For what it is worth, go with my blessing.”

  “A mother’s blessing is worth a great deal,” I murmured. “I will not forget this.” I kissed her cheek. “Thank you, a thousand times over. Thank you.”

  Valentina nodded. “You are a mother’s child, too, Moirin. I can only begin to imagine how much she is missing you. For her sake, I pray you come home to her someday.”

  Oh, it hurt.

  “So do I.” It was all I could say, all I had to say. Valentina gave her son one last, long embrace, and then opened the door for us.

  The street was empty and quiet. Aleksei squared his shoulders and began walking purposefully.

  I ran after him. “Wait! Aleksei, you mean to go on foot?”

  He gave me a blank look. “How else?”

  “I was brought here in a wagon. I know cart-horses are not ideal for riding, but it’s faster than walking.” I cast around with my senses. “The stable’s over there, is it not?”

  “Moirin, you can’t steal the Church’s horses!”

  “Oh, yes, I can. Your precious Church didn’t hesitate to steal me.” Aleksei’s delicate sensibilities were beginning to grate on my nerves. I set out in the direction of the stable. “You’d best stay close to me,” I said over my shoulder. “Else you’ll lose the cover of the twilight. I can only extend it so far, for so long.”

  He followed, silent.

  The cart-horses were drowsing in their stalls, heads nodding low. I glanced around and quickly determined there was no riding tack, only the wagon and harness gear.

  “That’s because they’re not for riding,” Aleksei murmured. “Moirin, can we please go now?”

  Ignoring him, I spun the twilight over one of the horses. He lifted his head, lambent eyes open and gleaming. I blew softly into his nostrils, touching his thoughts. “You’re a big, strong fellow, aren’t you?” I whispered. “Strong enough to carry us both.” The cart-horse pricked his ears in agreement and lipped at the trailing ends of my head-scarf. I smiled and unlatched the door to his stall.

  “Moirin!” Aleksei sounded near to panic.

  “It’s all right.” There was no mounting block, but the wagon would serve. I clambered onto it. The cart-horse moved obligingly into place for me. I grabbed a double fistful of his mane and swung myself astride. “Come on,” I said to Aleksei. “You’ll have to ride behind me.”

  He gazed uncertainly at me.

  I sighed. “We’ll turn him loose at the end of the day. Like as not, he’ll find his way home.”

  “It might give our direction away.”

  “It might,” I agreed. “But not our destination, and we’ll have gained a sizable lead. Aleksei, I haven’t eaten in three days. Thanks to your uncle’s penance, I have shooting pains in my knees. I’m not even used to taking full strides. I won’t get far on foot. So are you coming with me or not?”

  Without a word, he climbed onto the wagon, then scrambled awkwardly astride behind me while the patient cart-horse stood motionless.

  “Ready?” I asked when Aleksei was settled. Although he’d wedged the bundle of supplies between us, his entire body was rigid at the forced contact with mine.

  “How… how are you controlling it?” His voice sounded small.

  “I’m not,” I said. “I asked him if he’s willing to carry us, and he is.” I patted the horse’s sturdy neck. “So hold on, because we’re on our way whether you’re ready or not.”

  The horse clopped steadily out of the stable, his abandoned stable-mate giving a low whicker. I wished we could have taken both of them, but it would have been too much effort to maintain a bond with both of them and keep my hold on the twilight. As it was, I was spreading myself thin.

  On the street, I asked the cart-horse to pick up his pace. Once again, he pricked his ears in willing agreement and began walking at a good clip.

  Behind me, Aleksei slid and jounced, nearly losing the bundle, grabbing for it and almost falling off in the process.

  “Pass it to me.” I reached backward. “I’ll hold it, and you can put your arms around my waist.”

  “I don’t…” He sounded miserable. “It’s just that his back is so very broad.”

  “I know.” I struggled for patience. “Aleksei, give me the bedamned bundle and put your arms around my waist.”

  Tentatively, he did.

  I settled the bundle of chains and supplies on the carthorse’s withers, holding it in place with one hand and knotting the other in his mane, then asked him again for a swifter pace. He answered by breaking into a brisk trot.

  Aleksei exhaled sharply, his arms tightening around my waist. Now I felt the entire length of his body pressed against me, his thighs firm against mine. Despite everything, it felt very good.

  “You might as well enjoy it,” I said to him. “I am.”

  “Moirin!”

  “Hmm?”

  “This is serious business we’re about,” he protested. “Please don’t try to scandalize me in the midst of it.”

  “I’m sorry.” I let go the cart-horse’s mane and touched Aleksei’s knee lightly. “I cannot begin to imagine what it’s costing you to do this. I’m very, very grateful, and I don’t mean to bait you. In times of mortal danger, people often make jests. We’d lose our wits if we didn’t.”

  “Oh.” He relaxed a little. “So… you were jesting?”

  Now he sounded disappointed. “No,” I said gently. “Only teasing. It feels very good to have your arms around me, Ale
ksei.”

  “Oh.”

  We rode in silence for a time while he contemplated that. The outskirts of Riva came into view and fell away behind us. The cart-horse continued at a steady trot. I glanced at the sky overhead, trying to determine if the moon was bright enough to see by if I released the twilight. Gauging it was, I let it go.

  The gentle twilight faded, the world turning darker.

  Behind me, Aleksei stiffened. “What—?”

  “I let the magic go for now,” I said. “Now that we’re out of town, we’re safe enough under cover of darkness. In daylight, we’ll need it more.” I yawned. “I have to conserve my strength.”

  “So you can’t do just anything you wish.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “Not at all.”

  He was quiet for a while longer. I breathed the Breath of Trees Growing, reveling in the presence of pine-trees along the road, listening to them dream of the sun’s return. Gods, it felt good to be free! Never, ever would I take it for granted again.

  I only wished I wasn’t headed in the opposite direction from Bao. It worried me that the spark of his diadh-anam felt so far away and dim.

  I pushed the thought away. Later. Survive first, worry later.

  “Moirin?” Aleksei’s voice was low by my ear.

  “Aye?”

  “I like it, too.” His arms tightened a bit. “And you smell good.”

  “It’s the odor of sanctity,” I said, referencing one of the signs by which saints were known.

  “Moirin!”

  I laughed.

  “That was a jest, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes, sweet boy.” I patted his knee. “It was a jest.”

  There was a hint of a smile in his voice. “So says my heretic saint.”

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  We rode through the night and into the day, alternating between trotting and walking. For a mercy, we were following the curve of the vast lake and were able to pause from time to time to water the carthorse and ourselves.

  Willing soul though he was, I felt our unlikely mount’s strength begin to flag by midday, his steps beginning to plod. He was unaccustomed to carrying such a burden on his wide back. My own strength was failing, too. I was hoarding it as best I could, straining my eyes to catch sight of fellow travellers on the road so that I might shield us at need, but I was tired and hungry, and I began to find myself getting careless.