Last of the Wilds

by Trudi Canavan

  With a resigned sigh, she opened her bag and brought out some dried fruit to chew on while she waited.

  Early morning sunlight set the membrane walls of the bower glowing. Auraya looked around the little house and sighed with pleasure. It was good to be back in Si.

  Why does this place feel like home? she asked herself. I feel better today than I have for months. And I had no nightmares last night, she realized. She felt as if she had left a lot of troubling things behind her. Nightmares. The hospice. I hadn’t realized how much the hospice was bothering me.

  She thought back to her previous stay in Si. She’d always woken up feeling good here. But was that because of my dream links with Leiard? she suddenly thought.

  Leiard. Did she imagine that the pang of hurt that always came at the thought of Leiard was weaker? He seemed a part of someone else’s life now. Perhaps soon she would feel nothing at all.

  :I hope not, a familiar voice spoke into her mind. It would be terrible indeed for you to feel nothing. Neither joy nor sorrow. Neither pleasure nor pain.

  I meant feel nothing about Leiard, she told Chaia. You know that.

  :You will always feel something in regard to him. Time will dull the pain. There is nothing that eases it as well as immersing oneself in new feelings.

  Yes, she thought. New challenges. Like getting these Pentadrians out of Si.

  :That wasn’t what I had in mind.

  She smiled crookedly. I thought not. But as they say: work before pleasure.

  :I’ll hold you to that.

  His presence abruptly vanished. Auraya shook her head. Sometimes she did not understand Chaia, but then he was a god and she wasn’t. She rose and moved to the hanging that covered the bower entrance.

  “Owaya fly?”

  She looked back at Mischief, who had decided one of the baskets hanging from the bower roof was an acceptable sleeping place. Only his nose was visible over the lip.

  “Yes. Auraya fly alone. To a dangerous meeting. Mischief stay here. Safe.”

  Mischief considered this for a long moment, then his nose withdrew from sight. Since being kidnapped before the battle, he took all warnings of danger seriously.

  “Msstf stay,” he murmured.

  Relieved, Auraya moved outside and took a step toward the Speakers’ Bower. At once a small crowd of Siyee children erupted from the forest and surrounded her. She laughed in surprise as they showered her with flowers. A few daringly reached out to touch her hands. Suddenly one gave a piercing whistle and they scampered away. Auraya caught enough from the jumble of their thoughts to learn they were prudently fleeing the approach of an adult. She turned to see Speaker Sirri walking toward her.

  The Siyee leader was smiling. “You’ve become a figure of legend since you last visited. The singers among us have made up a song called ‘The White Lady,’ in which you defeat the Pentadrians single-handedly.”

  Auraya chuckled. “That’s a little unfair on the other White.”

  Sirri shrugged. “Yes. It certainly looked like you struck the killing blow, however.”

  “It was more…complicated than that,” Auraya told the Speaker. “The others were attacking in less visible ways. It just happened to fall to me to take advantage of the enemy’s mistake.”

  “When the sorceress became distracted?”

  “Yes.” Auraya saw Sirri’s crooked smile and looked closer. What she saw amused and surprised her. “Tryss was the distraction? He attacked her?”

  Sirri nodded. “So he says, and I have no reason to doubt him.”

  “How incredibly brave,” Auraya breathed, thinking of the shy young inventor of the Siyee’s hunting harness.

  “Not many know of it. He does not want to be treated like a hero when so many died. The war has changed him. I think he feels guilty for having made something that enabled the Siyee to join a war that killed so many of us. I try to tell him it was not his fault, but…” She looked up at Auraya and frowned, suddenly wondering whether Auraya, too, felt the burden of guilt. When Auraya met her eyes Sirri looked away. “I’ve come to tell you that the volunteer Speakers are waiting in the gathering place,” Sirri said.

  Auraya frowned. “Am I late?”

  “No. They are early. Anxious to get it over with, I suspect.”

  “Then let’s oblige them.”

  Sirri led Auraya to the edge of the forest then leapt into the air. Auraya followed and they glided down to the Flat, where the two speakers, Iriz and Tyzi, waited. Several hunters wearing harnesses waited nearby. Sirri had decided they should accompany them in case the Speakers were separated from Auraya, and the Pentadrian birds attacked.

  Iriz and Tyzi radiated both fear and determination as they exchanged greetings with Auraya.

  “Which Pentadrian group will we meet first?” Iriz asked.

  “Which do you think we should approach?” Auraya asked in reply.

  “Whichever is closest,” Tyzi answered. “The sooner we tell them to leave, the better.”

  “The one travelling northeast then.”

  “The north group is closer to a tribe,” Iriz pointed out. “If the Pentadrians decide to attack, we might not be able to send a warning in time.”

  “The north group won’t know what the other group is doing,” Tyzi said. Then she looked at Auraya doubtfully. “Or will they?”

  “They have a way of communicating with each other as Circlian priests and priestesses do,” Auraya said.

  Tyzi frowned. “Then we should meet the north group.”

  “By the time we get there, the Pentadrians travelling east will be close to a tribe, too,” Iriz said.

  “Scouts are watching the enemy,” Sirri said. “All Siyee know to avoid them, and have made preparations to leave their home if they have to. No tribe is going to sit and wait around to be attacked.”

  Iriz and Tyzi nodded in agreement. “The closest tribe then,” Iriz said.

  “We should reach them by this afternoon,” Tyzi added.

  Auraya looked at Sirri. “And return tomorrow, if all goes well.”

  The Speaker smiled grimly. “Let us delay no longer.”

  She moved to the lower edge of the Flat, where a short drop divided the rocky slope. As Sirri leapt off the edge, the other Speakers and hunters propelled themselves after her. Auraya drew magic and sent herself up to join them.

  As she drew level with Sirri, she felt another presence at her side.

  :You’re back.

  :I am, Chaia said.

  :Do you know what these Pentadrians are up to?

  :Yes.

  :Are you going to tell me?

  :No.

  :Why not?

  :It is up to you to find and deal with them.

  :So you won’t even tell me where they are.

  :There is no need. You will find them easily enough.

  :What’s the point in talking to you if you won’t tell me anything useful?

  :Does there have to be a price? Isn’t my company enough?

  She sighed.

  :Of course there doesn’t have to be a price. I just wish I knew how dangerous these Pentadrians are. I would not like these Siyee to be hurt or killed.

  :Then you should be taking every precaution. Chaia’s tone was no longer playful. Do not be complacent just because I am present now and then. I cannot be everywhere at once, or with you all the time. If I could, and if the world was full of highly Gifted mortals willing to do my will, we would not have needed to make you what you are. He paused. Have you taken every precaution?

  :I have, she answered. At least, I hope so.

  As he moved away, she felt a twinge of anxiety. Once more she started to consider all the possible outcomes of this meeting with the Pentadrians.

  Dedicated Servant Renva grasped the hand of Servant Vengel and held tightly as he hauled her up over the top of the ridge. He steadied her as she struggled to stand. The ground was a mess of grooves and sharp protruding stones and there was no flat surface to stand on.

&n
bsp; When she had caught her balance, she looked around. The ridge was high enough to give her a view of the terrain ahead. She groaned as she saw exposed ridges and shadowed ravines extending toward the mountains ahead.

  This is a nightmare! she thought. Surely only winged creatures can live here. It’s as if the land is doing its best to repel us.

  She wished she could oblige it, but she had her orders to follow. The Siyee were primitive folk, she had been told. Simple people with simple ways were easy to impress. Whether she could persuade them to worship the Five Gods depended on how impressed they were with the Circlians and their false gods.

  But we’ve got to reach them first.

  It would be much easier if they came to her. She had glimpsed them in the distance from time to time. Often she had the feeling they were watching her and her companions, yet they never came within hailing distance.

  Simple people are often fearful, she reminded herself. We were their enemy a few months ago. They will regard us as invaders.

  Turning away from the view, she began making her way along the ridge top.

  “Dedicated Servant Renva,” Vengel called.

  She turned to see him staring into the distance. He glanced at her, then pointed. Looking in the direction he indicated, she searched the sky, but saw nothing.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Siyee,” Vengel replied. “Flying low. Between the trees and us.”

  She looked lower, but it took some time before she saw them. Flying shapes too large to be birds glided among the tree tops, too far away for her to make out details. There were more than ten of them and they were coming directly toward her.

  “I see them.” She considered her position. Whether the Siyee were coming to talk or fight, she ought to be with her people. Since the others wouldn’t make it to the ridge in time, that meant returning to the narow ravine below.

  She walked back to Vengel’s side and leaned over the edge.

  “Go back down,” she called to the Servant climbing the rope. The man frowned and started to descend. She looked at Vengel. “Stay here and see if you can get their attention, but be ready in case they attack.”

  Vengel nodded. His face was grim, but he said nothing as she started to descend. He had enough Skill in magic to protect himself from arrows.

  Once she had reached the floor of the ravine, Renva gathered the others together.

  “There is a group of Siyee heading our way,” she told them. “They may be coming to meet us; they may not be aware of us at all. We should be prepared for an attack, just in case.”

  The unSkilled carriers and less Skilled Servants moved to the center of the group. All were silent as they waited. Vengel gave a shout and all looked up to search the sky.

  Winged shapes flashed behind the tops of the trees. Renva caught glimpses of eyes staring down at her suspiciously. They circled overhead, their confidence not a little intimidating. She saw a larger figure—wingless and white—and her throat went dry.

  The White sorceress. Nekaun warned me that she might come. She touched the star pendant hanging against her chest.

  :Nekaun!

  The pause that followed was short, but felt like an eternity.

  :Renva. I see you have met the Siyee.

  :In the process of meeting, she corrected. The White sorceress accompanies them.

  :That is no surprise. So long as no violence is done, she won’t attack you. Proceed.

  Renva swallowed. I hope he’s right. She took a deep breath and forced herself to call out.

  “People of the Sky. Siyee. We do not wish to harm anyone. Come down so we may speak to you.”

  The forest echoed with the flying people’s whistles. Strange words were mixed with the piercing calls. They were talking, she guessed. She did not expect them to understand her, but hoped they’d hear peaceful intent in her voice. The White sorceress probably did understand. It was said they could read minds.

  “I am Dedicated Servant Renva and these are my companions. We have come a long way in the hopes of becoming your friends,” she told them. “We have…”

  Leaves stirred as three of the Siyee dove through the tree tops. They landed on branches high above and stared down at Renva and her people. She heard a voice behind her.

  “If your intentions are peaceful, why did you not learn the local language before you came?”

  Renva spun around. The White sorceress stood on a lower branch of a tree, not far away.

  “There was no one to teach us,” Renva replied. “Or we would have.”

  The White sorceress looked upward and spoke a string of strange words. One of the Siyee above replied. The White sorceress smiled faintly, then met Renva’s eyes again.

  “I am here as protector and translator only. Speaker Sirri, leader of the Siyee, wishes to know why you have entered Si uninvited.”

  Renva looked up at the Siyee who had spoken. A woman leads them. Interesting. “We come to make peace with the Siyee.”

  The White sorceress translated. Or at least I hope she is, Renva thought. How will I know if she mistranslates my words in her favor?

  :Take care how you phrase your questions, Nekaun advised.

  The Siyee leader spoke.

  “Speaker Sirri says: ‘If you wish to make peace, leave us be. Leave and do not return,’” the White sorceress said.

  “Will you not give us a chance to mend the rift between our people?” Renva asked.

  Another of the Siyee responded.

  “The rift is too wide. How can you expect us to forgive those who invaded our allies’ lands and murdered so many of our fathers and sons, mothers and daughters?”

  “Must we then remain enemies always?”

  “Friendship must be earned,” the Siyee leader replied. “Trust is not gained when an enemy enters a house uninvited.”

  “How may we win your trust? How can we even learn your language if we can’t…Will you come to Avven instead?”

  The Siyee exchanged glances.

  “Perhaps one day, if we were sure we would be safe.”

  “I swear, on the Five Gods, it will be so,” Renva said earnestly.

  At that the Siyee looked uneasy. The older man spoke. The White sorceress looked surprised, and paused before translating.

  “Speaker Iriz says: ‘If you attempt to persuade any Siyee to worship your gods you will fail. Huan created us and we will never turn from her.’”

  They believe their gods created them? Nekaun murmured.

  :It appears so, she replied.

  :Do as they say, he told her. Leave.

  :Yes, holy one.

  Renva bowed her head. “Friendship was our reason for coming here. To prove our trustworthiness, we will leave as you bid us. I hope, in the future, another chance will come to make peace between us.”

  The White sorceress translated, then the Siyee voiced their approval. They leapt from their perches and swooped out of the trees. The White sorceress lingered a moment, watching Renva as though measuring her up.

  “Scouts will watch you,” she warned. “We will know if you do not leave.”

  She floated upward, gaining speed so quickly that the leafy canopy of the tree vibrated at her passing. Renva shook her head in awe. It was incredible that someone could be so skilled in magic that they could defy the pull of the earth.

  And depressing knowing what we’re going to have to travel back over to get to the coast again.

  :Take your time, Nekaun said in her mind. Your situation may change between now and then.

  I hope not, she thought. She felt a little guilty at thinking this. She was supposed to be willing to face and endure anything in order to serve the gods.

  :But you don’t have to enjoy it, Nekaun told her, his communication light with humor. She laughed. As her travelling companions turned to stare at her, she composed herself again.

  “We’ll retrace our steps until dusk,” she decided, “then find a good place to stop for the night.” She looked up at
the ridge. “You may as well come down,” she called to Vengel, who was leaning over the edge, peering down at her. “We’re going home.”

  23

  Pain and movement assailed Imi as she woke. Her skin burned, her joints ached, and her stomach clenched. Someone was lifting her. A voice drew her attention—a male voice speaking quietly and soothingly. It sounded like her father.

  She jolted toward full awareness. Could it be? Had he come to rescue her at last? Opening her eyes, she stared up at a strange face. The man’s skin was pale and fur grew from both face and scalp.

  He was a landwalker, but not the landwalker who had put her here. He stared back at her, the two furry lines above his eyes drawing close together as he frowned. There was a sloshing sound below her and she realized he was standing in the pool. He began to lower her. She felt a moment of panic and struggled weakly. The pool was too deep and she had no strength to drag herself out again. She would drown.

  A moment after she felt water on her back she felt the solid surface of the pool’s bottom. The landwalker let her go, but remained squatting beside her. He began to splash water over her. It stung her skin, then cooled it. There was a good smell in the air—the smell of the sea. It came from the water. She lifted a hand to her mouth and tasted it.

  Sea water. They’re trying to make me well again.

  The thought ought to have been a relief, but it brought only fear, heightened by the realization that she was naked. Where was her shift? Would they give her new clothes? What would they do with her once she was healthy? What would they make her do? Maybe it would be better if she didn’t get well. Maybe it would be better if she died.

  No. I have to get well, she told herself. I have to get better and be ready when father comes…or when I get a chance to escape by myself.

  The landwalker stopped splashing her with water. He stood up and moved to the side of the pool. Picking up a large platter, he sloshed back to her side.

  He began to speak again, his voice quiet and cheerful. Taking something from the platter, he held it out to her.

  It was raw fish. She grimaced. At once he returned it to the platter.

  Next he offered her a piece of cooked fish. She felt her stomach growl and reached out to take it, then hesitated.