Waterdance

by Logston, Anne

  “Well,” she said with a sigh, “I suppose we go from here by ourselves.”

  “I suppose so,” Atheris said softly. “I felt my geas released a moment ago.”

  “I didn’t feel anything,” Peri said, sighing.

  “She said in a day. If Seba lied, I will make sure you are released later,” Atheris said impatiently. “It hardly matters just now, does it? Come, follow me. I spent time in the darkness as part of my training, and the layout of this temple almost mirrors my own.”

  Peri had to squeeze over against the wall to let Atheris around her. When she felt the warmth of his body brush hers, she felt a surprising, involuntary desire to cling to him. She settled for laying one hand on his shoulder when he stopped in front of her.

  “You’d think they would have given us a torch at least,” she grumbled. “There is a certain element of hurry about this.”

  “A torch outside the temple might be seen,” Atheris said almost absently. “Secrecy is even more important than time.”

  Peri couldn’t argue with that, and for more reasons than one; Atheris moved so swiftly through the dark passageway that she was forced to hurry and concentrate on her footing. The passage must have been short, for Atheris soon stopped very abruptly, but his murmured warning reached her in time.

  “There is a wall here,” he said. “I think I can open it.” He was right; Peri saw moonlight almost immediately, and she could not step out into the open air fast enough. There was moonlight, there was a faint rank breeze, there was honest dusty earth beneath her feet, and for the moment she could only stand still, taking it in in sheer gratitude. Apparently they’d exited out the back of the temple, for they were not inside the stockade. Peri could see no other openings in the back of the temple, and she could only hope that meant nobody could see them; but then, Seba had the greatest interest in utter secrecy, so if there was any unobservable exit from the temple, she’d have chosen it.

  Two horses were tethered just outside the opening; there was enough moonlight that Peri could see they were heavily laden. A brief search revealed, to her surprise, her healer’s kit, their weapons, even their gold; her first act was to replace her grace-blade in its sheath, then her sword and daggers. She spent another precious moment inspecting the horses, surprised by their quality. Apparently some Sarkondish raids on Bregondish herds had been more successful than others.

  “All right,” Peri said briefly. “Good enough.” There was parchment, pen, and ink in her healer’s bag; in the dim light, with Atheris reading over her shoulder, she wrote, “High Lord Elaasar died honorably by his own hand. This I swear on my honor, my sword, and the blood of my family. By my hand, Perian, daughter of High Lady Kayli and High Lord Randon of Agrond.” She rolled the signet up inside the parchment and tucked the parchment into the pouch, then handed the pouch to an astonished Atheris.

  “We’re going back in,” Peri said shortly. “If I die here, make certain this reaches any Bregond. It doesn’t matter who, it doesn’t matter how. It’ll get where it’s supposed to. That will fulfill my promise to Seba. I didn’t swear I’d get there myself, only that they’d know the truth.”

  “But this is not the truth,” Atheris said softly, tucking the pouch into his shirt nonetheless.

  “It will be,” Peri said simply. “Now take me back in.”

  “And if we are captured?” Atheris asked, his eyes on Peri’s.

  “If there’s trouble,” Peri said, shrugging, “you get away. I’ve got my sword and daggers. I can probably buy you enough time for a good head start at least. I’m the important prisoner, after all, the Harbinger, and they won’t risk killing me. Anyway, the last thing in the world they’ll suspect is that we’d go back into the temple, not when we’ve got an open escape route and fast horses.”

  Atheris fell silent, his eyes searching hers for another moment. Mutely he pulled the priest’s robe out of his saddlebag and pulled it on, belting it with a short length of rope. Then he turned and silently stepped back into the dark passageway. Before the darkness swallowed him, Peri was relieved to see that he’d reclaimed his own blades. Thankfully he did not close the exit behind him. If by some miracle either or both of them left by this passage, it would be a hasty exit.

  At the opposite end of the passage, Atheris groped around briefly in the darkness, but once more his expertise won out and the section of wall slid open. Peri was ready with her dagger, but there was no guard outside.

  “No guard here,” she whispered, gazing at Atheris, “but there’ll be plenty more between here and my grandfather. Can you get us past them?”

  Atheris shook his head.

  “Invisibility may hide us,” he said gently, “but it will not hide a door opening.”

  “Then there’s two choices,” Peri said flatly. “Either you do to them what you did to me and to those men in Darnalek, or—” She held up her dagger illustratively. “You choose.”

  Atheris closed his eyes briefly, but when he opened them he faced Peri squarely.

  “I will deal with them,” he said quietly.

  “Good enough.” Peri was, she knew, trusting Atheris far too much, especially after the earlier betrayal, but she was demanding even more trust of him; besides, she had more to lose than he, but also more to gain. “Unless you know a shorter way to the lower cells, I’ll need you to get us back to our cells, and I think I remember the way from there.”

  “How many levels lower?” Atheris asked.

  “Four.”

  He hesitated.

  “There is a quicker way,” he said. “It is risky in terms of encountering others, but should save time.” He raised the hood on his robe, then pulled the rope belt from his robe and handed it to Peri. “Put your hands behind you and wrap that around your wrists once or twice. I am thankful now that Seba kept us so hidden, that very few would recognize us. My only concern now is that I might meet a priest from my own temple, come here to hear the Whore speak or to consult with the Bonemarch. And give me your sword to hide under my robe. Your daggers are not visible to a casual glance, but no prisoner would be allowed to keep such a weapon.”

  That hurt even though Peri saw the sense of Atheris’s words, and she surrendered her sword again with the greatest reluctance.

  Mahdha grant if I die, I do so with my sword in my hand, she thought grimly. It was awkward, winding the rope around her wrists behind her while she could not see; she could only hope that her sleeves concealed the ends of the rope she held in her clenched hands.

  “Lead on,” she said shortly.

  Peri had no idea where Atheris was leading her; she knew only that it wasn’t the way the guard had brought them from their cells. The first time she saw a guard in the corridor ahead of them, she tensed; she kept her head down, Atheris guiding her by his firm grip on her arm, and suddenly they were past, and her relief was so great that she nearly stumbled into Atheris. Still she held her breath each time they passed a guard or priest, grimly determined that the first sound of recognition would be the last; kill or die, she wasn’t going back to that cell.

  They went down a set of stairs, but then back up another; then down twice and up once. A faint suspicion began to uncoil in Peri’s heart—Atheris had led her into capture before, and she had no guarantee but the word of a Sarkond that he wouldn’t do it again. But then Atheris led her down another longer stairway, and now the corridors around her seemed familiar. Atheris paused briefly in a stretch of empty hall.

  “The cells are ahead,” he murmured. “You must have entered the block from the north, and we are entering from the south. Be sure you know exactly which cell we must go to. Any guard seeing us searching uncertainly will be suspicious.”

  Peri closed her eyes, concentrating. She’d turned the corner with Seba, and what had drawn her eye was the guard ahead—

  “There’s a guard in front of the door,” she said. “It was second on the left as I came in before.”

  “Fifth on the right, then, from here,” Atheris said
softly.

  “There were three locks on the door,” Peri said. “Seba had the key to one. I can probably break the last lock, but I’ll make noise doing it.”

  “The guard will be in no condition to protest,” Atheris said. “You are certain, though, there are no other guards?”

  Peri tried hard to remember. She’d done her best to keep count when she’d followed Seba, but there’d been so many doors, so many guards.

  “Not in the hall itself,” she said at last. “But there was a guard at the entrance to the cell block. He might be close enough to hear us moving in the hall.”

  Atheris hesitated.

  “I need to be close enough to touch a guard to incapacitate him,” he said slowly.

  Peri slid one of her hands free of the rope, tested the draw on two of her daggers.

  “I don’t,” she said shortly.

  Atheris gazed at her for a long moment, expressionlessly.

  “If you must,” he said at last.

  Peri replaced her hand in the loops of rope and nodded to Atheris. He took a deep breath and stepped around the corner and, to Peri’s utter gratitude, walked directly up to the guard without the slightest hesitation.

  The guard stepped aside almost automatically, drawing a ring of keys from his belt, but then he paused.

  “The lady said—” he began.

  Atheris said nothing, only laid his hand on the guard’s wrist. The guard let out a little breath, almost a sigh, his eyes rolling up in their sockets, and fell back against the wall; Peri, quickly dropping the rope, barely caught him before he could fall to the floor in a clatter of keys and armor. She eased him down, taking the ring of keys; to her surprise, Atheris knelt beside the fallen guard, taking his pulse. A hectic flush had risen in Atheris’s cheeks and his hands were trembling.

  “What?” Peri whispered impatiently.

  “If I am nervous, or careless,” he whispered shakily, “it is easy to drain them too much, to—”

  Peri was still.

  “Kill them?” she barely whispered.

  He nodded reluctantly. Now that it was obvious that the guard was still breathing, he stood again, indicating the locks. Peri did not move.

  “The pilgrims?” she asked, barely audibly. Atheris nodded again, very slowly, not meeting her eyes. “I did not know how sick they were,” he said, his lips barely moving. “How weak. And I was very afraid. I had never tried two at once before. When I realized—I tried to save them. But healing magic, life magic ...” He fell silent again.

  Peri bit her lip hard. She didn’t know which sickened her more—what he had done, or her realization that despite everything that had happened, she could not manage to hate him for it. She took a deep breath and handed Atheris the ring of keys.

  “Unlock it,” she said briefly. She picked up the guard’s mace and tiptoed to the end of the hall, just inside the cellblock door. Flattening her back against the wall, she reached over and banged the mace against the door sharply once, then again, gratified by the almost immediate scrape of a key in the lock.

  “What is it?” the Sarkondish guard murmured as he stepped through the door. “No one is supposed—”

  No helm. Driven by she knew not what impulse, Peri slightly diverted the crushing force of the blow at the last second so that it only glanced off the guard’s skull. The guard went down anyway without even a grunt, and she saw blood trickling down the back of his neck, but she knew without knowing how she knew that the skull was not cracked.

  What do I care? she thought disgustedly. This is a Sarkond, a guard who’d happily split me open top to bottom if it wasn’t important to save me for a much nastier death! Most likely they’ll just have him killed anyway for letting himself be taken by surprise. Bright Ones, what kind of a warrior am I becoming?

  She dragged the guard inside and closed the door, picking up the mace. Even at low watch, it probably wouldn’t be long before someone noticed the guard’s absence, but that would arouse less immediate suspicion than a guard slumped over in the hall, or even sitting on the floor, apparently asleep.

  Atheris had apparently unlocked the first two locks. He stood back, glancing at Peri in surprise as she laid the second guard beside the first. Peri lifted the mace in both hands and smashed open the padlock with one sure blow. The door creaked open.

  Atheris started to step inside, but Peri stopped him with an abrupt arm barring the door.

  “He’s my kin,” she said shortly. “It’s my responsibility.”

  “Do you require a witness?” Atheris asked softly, meeting her eyes.

  Peri hesitated just a moment, then withdrew her arm, letting Atheris follow her into that horrible room. The High Lord was in the bed, exactly as she’d seen him before; this time, however, his eyes were closed.

  For a moment Peri hesitated again. It seemed so simple, so merciful, to end it with one swift stroke while he slept. But...

  No, Grandfather. You’ll fly home on Mahdha’s wings. I swear it.

  “Help me get him up,” Peri said softly.

  He wasn’t heavy, but neither was the High Lord emaciated and light, and Peri was glad enough for Atheris’s help in getting him out of bed, especially when those empty eyes opened. Atheris cringed from the sight, but Peri forced herself to meet those eyes one last time, searching for the faintest spark of consciousness, when they’d settled him in the chair.

  “High Lord, you don’t know me,” Peri said softly in Bregondish. “I’m your granddaughter, your daughter Kayli’s child. My mother’s well and happy, Grandfather, and she has another child, a son, my brother Estann. Your daughter Kairi holds Bregond. There’s been peace between Agrond and Bregond since my mother’s marriage, Grandfather. There’s trade and prosperity. You can go with Mahdha in peace, Grandfather. You did all you set out to do, and you’re remembered with love. Your name will be spoken with pride in every noble hall, at every clan fire. I swear it. I’ll help you do what you must.”

  She drew her grace-blade and laid the hilt in those limp, pale hands, blade inward, the clasp of her own fingers tightening the lax grip around it. She stepped around behind her grandfather and guided the point of the blade carefully into place.

  “Good-bye, Grandfather,” she whispered. “Fly with Mahdha.”

  She’d never given grace before, but the stroke was firm and unerring. There was no twitch, no sound but the soft whisper of the final breath. Peri eased her grandfather’s body back in the chair, closing his eyes. She pulled the grace-blade free and wiped it on the bedclothes, then thrust it back into its sheath.

  “All right,” she said tonelessly to Atheris. “Let’s go.”

  Atheris followed her mutely to the door and helped her drag the unconscious guards inside, then lock the two intact locks.

  “Out the way we came?” he asked quietly.

  Peri shook her head.

  “I’m not done yet,” she said flatly. “Did you think I’d keep my promise to Seba but break my oath to you?”

  Atheris’s brows drew down.

  “Then where?”

  Peri considered. She could try to find the lowest level of the temple. Closer might be better. But then escape would be far more difficult, if not impossible, and Peri’s message had to reach Bregond.

  “The central chamber,” she said.

  Atheris gazed at her doubtfully, but at last he slowly raised the hood of his robe again, handing the rope back to her. Peri resumed her “prisoner” posture and followed him.

  They moved through more central corridors now, and despite the late hour, once or twice they passed robed figures in the hall—priests or acolytes, Peri could not readily determine. They did not question Atheris, although Peri received rather curious glances, and once she thought a guard eyed them just a little too sharply, but nobody stopped them. At last they emerged into a wide corridor, not the central hall they had traveled when they first entered the temple, but, in Peri’s estimation, probably its counterpart on the other side of the temple. Then th
ey turned another corner and she had no more time to muse on directions, for they faced both the heavy double door to the central chamber, and the two guards standing watch there.

  Thank the Bright Ones, Atheris did not hesitate even slightly. He grasped her upper arm firmly and walked briskly toward the door, although Peri could feel his hand trembling.

  The guards glanced at each other uncertainly.

  “Your pardon, Holiness,” one said. “No one told us the chamber would be in use tonight.”

  “Only a brief preparatory ritual,” Atheris said, just the right hint of impatience in his voice. “Must I have the Golden One awakened to come down here and tell you personally?”

  Another brief hesitation. Then the guard stepped aside, opening the double doors.

  “Your pardon, Holiness,” he said. “We will see you are not disturbed.”

  Peri expected Atheris to reach out and touch one or both of the guards, render them unconscious as he had the guard at her grandfather’s cell. She mentally braced herself, ready to drop the rope and reach for the most convenient dagger in case Atheris could deal with only one at a time—

  Then they were past the guards and through the doors, and Atheris was closing and barring the door behind them.

  “What?” Peri demanded in a whisper. “You’re just going to leave them there?” She grabbed her sword back, belting it on.

  Atheris shrugged resignedly.

  “If anyone checks the guard posts, they will be suspicious to find that one vacant,” he said, not lowering his voice at all. “If they see the guards in their places, hopefully they will not stop to question them, but even so, it is less risk to leave them.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Peri said, still whispering, following Atheris as he walked around the perimeter of the room, skirting the golden sculpture of Eregis, to the door opposite. “Unconscious guards can’t hear what we’re doing.”

  Atheris smiled, barring that door, too. Lighting one torch from the central fire, he lit each of the torches in the wall sconces.

  “Nor will conscious guards. You failed to observe the thickness of the doors,” he said gently. “Rituals of great secrecy, permitted only to the highest orders of priests, are performed at the central altar. These chambers in each temple were built for silence. I promise you, the guards will hear nothing. And if we are quick, we should be able to leave without—”