Moontide 02 - The Scarlet Tides

by David Hair

  He tried as hard as he could to restrict the amount of gnosis he used, to hold off the day when he simply had nothing left. But as days passed he felt himself becoming weak – not physically, but magically, for the final resources of his stolen gnosis were being bled away by their training. The energies first released by Meiros’ soul and then replenished by Wimla’s death were almost gone, and his morality and humanity forbade him from replenishing.

  Elena approved, of course, but it meant that he was growing weaker even as his skill increased. And he’d told her that fighting the longing to kill and replenish was hard. It showed on his face sometimes.

  But there were joys too, and tonight was one. He opened the pouch and pulled out a sapphire the size of a fingernail. His eyes goggled. ‘What is this?’

  She smiled at his stunned pleasure. His smile was a wondrous thing; it lit up his face.

  ‘It’s a periapt gem,’ she said, ‘the sort easily attuned to Air-gnosis.’ She tugged her own into view: a similar stone. ‘Sapphires work particularly well with Water and Air.’

  ‘Ispal Ankesharan would wet himself!’ he exclaimed. He didn’t need to explain; she knew his history as well as he himself did now – she knew who Ispal Ankesharan was, almost felt she’d met him.

  ‘But I can’t accept such a thing,’ he said sadly. ‘It is too much.’

  ‘It’s worth a lot to a trader,’ she admitted, ‘but its value is much higher to a mage. You’ll burn through energy more slowly – you’ll be able to go up against a trained mage on an equal footing. I need you to have it, if we’re going to work together. Without it, any one of Gyle’s gang will defeat you.’

  He still looked uncomfortable as he dangled the gem in his fingers. She reached out and clasped his fingers around it. ‘Take it, Kazim. It is yours.’

  They both stared at their clasped hands, hers pale, callused and lined with the first signs of ageing; his big, dark and smooth. For an awkward moment their eyes met.

  ‘I am not complicated,’ he’d told her once. He wasn’t, but the things happening to him were.

  She let go. ‘You’ll need to tune it to your gnosis. I’ll show you how.’

  He exhaled heavily, as if coming to a decision, then spread the cord and lowered it over his head. He looked up at her with his big, wounded eyes. ‘Sal’Ahm,’ he said softly.

  ‘Thank you for taking it,’ she replied. She studied him. The smile had transformed his face. She would have loved to see it again.

  Instead he sighed and said, ‘How do I tune it?’

  ‘Channel your gnosis through it, as gently as you can. It takes time – hours, days even – before the flow becomes natural. But it’s worth it, trust me. It will allow you to burn less energy.’

  He looked hopeful, but the following days proved her wrong. The periapt made no difference. On reflection it made sense: a periapt boosted renewal of gnosis, allowing spells to be cast more intensely, but as a Souldrinker he simply could not replenish. It made her wonder if their relationship was doomed.

  *

  Despite this setback they began to make plans. It was late Noveleve, and Kazim’s training was progressing well. He felt more comfortable with taking instruction now, in combat at least. The gnosis was a different matter; she suspected it always would be. His affinities were basic and his gnostic style would never be subtle, but he was very strong in a simple but extreme way. His spells might be straightforward, but they were brutally effective.

  ‘When will we go to war?’ he asked from time to time, feeling his eagerness to rejoin the fray return. Finally, she gave him a direct answer. In Janune, the cooler temperatures would make travel more bearable …

  As Noveleve ended, the north wind began to blow cooler around the mountain, giving Kazim a hint of what winter would be like here, so high above the plains. They were low on fresh meat, so Elena took him to the river upstream from Shimdas village. He’d fished before in Baranasi, dangling lines into the muddy, sluggish flow of Mother Imuna. This river was very different. It wound through the dried-out land like a wriggling snake, changing course by the season. Right now it was broad and shallow, awaiting the autumn rains, but there were plenty of places to fish.

  But first, Kazim wanted to bathe. He left Elena beside the largest pool and walked upstream until she was hidden by a fold in the land, then stripped and waded naked into the water. It was colder than he had expected and his skin started tingling as he waded deeper. He found that he was already subconsciously scanning with the gnosis, seeking life; a few fish were near, just small things. He ducked under and launched himself into the deepest part of the flow.

  He swam blindly for a few seconds, then came up, spluttering, enjoying the bracing chill. It was so much cleaner than the Baranasi waters – though Mother Imuna was supposed to be the world’s purest river, its purity was very definitely spiritual, not chemical. This was completely different: fresh, natural, clean …

  Movement caught his eye and he realised he’d swum past the mound he’d picked to hide him from Elena. He was a little shocked to see her, sixty yards or so downstream, also wading into the water, straight-backed and completely unselfconscious in her nakedness. She was standing sideways on to him and he found himself studying her cautiously, curiosity overcoming his disapproval. She had strong shoulders and a flat, straight waist, not in the classic hourglass shape women should have. Classically, Ahmedhassan women were supposed to be wider at the hips than shoulders, and she was not … but he could see that did not mean she was not a woman. Her bottom was narrow, but it was rounded, and her breasts were just as he’d imagined them: small and high, and so firm they barely jiggled as she moved. She’d unbound her hair and it fell about her face in a pale cloud, hiding her eyes. Her belly and breasts and bottom were utterly white, like snow, which made her look unnaturally bare, as if an extra layer of skin had been revealed.

  She sank beneath the water, and he did too, to wash the image of her body from his mind’s eye, but it didn’t work. He caught another presence: another living mind, one so alien and hungry that he surfaced, recoiling in fear, and started searching around for the threat. Then he realised what he’d sensed was a catfish, lurking in the lee of the far bank – a big one, waiting ravenously for its lesser kindred to pass.

  He glanced back at Elena, sitting in the shallows some way away, washing her arms and legs. Her tiny nipples were pink, he noticed, and erect from the cool water. The sight caused his cock to stiffen, and she suddenly raised her head and looked directly at him, as if sensing his attention. She lifted her chin, didn’t trouble to hide herself.

  He ducked back under the water to avoid her challenging eyes. Something else was threatening their delicate balance now: physical desire. She was, for all her strangeness, still a woman and not without her own allure. Irritably, he pushed the thought away and sought a distraction. He tried to still the waters about him as he swam and sent his senses questing out, seeking the catfish. A plan formed in his mind, a way to prove himself …

  There—

  He was good at swimming, as he was at all things physical. He worked his way upstream of the catfish, then floated towards it, barely having to move, letting the current take him. I’m just a little fish, he told the silent darkness beneath the bank. So tasty …

  The darkness heaved and jaws careened out of the shadows, lined with rows of needle-like teeth. He quailed in alarm as jaws wider than his head clamped onto his leg and a massive body thrashed about, shaking him like a doll. He shouted in pain, stunned at the sheer size of the creature, which was so much greater than he’d anticipated. His vision spun as the jaws clenched tighter, burying the razor-sharp teeth hooked in his thigh deeper. As pain went shrieking through his body he grabbed onto his gnosis and blazed away at it in terror, using the Air-gnosis lightning she’d taught him, desperate to get this monster off him. The water boiled about him in a vivid white CRACK!, and then the biter was gone, leaving him reeling about in the still-churning water, desperately trying to
regain his feet, but failing—

  He fell backwards as his legs gave way, and the sky swirled above.

  ‘KAZIM?’ He could dimly hear something thrashing through the water, and realised it was Elena calling. Her voice sounded full of fear. ‘KAZIM!’ she cried again as his skin started fizzing and livid patches of fire danced before his eyes. He could hardly feel a thing.

  ‘Holy Kore, what have you done?’

  Elena’s face appeared above him, flushed and fearful, distorted and alien as the colours in his eyes ran and pulsed. All he could do was stare up at her, dazed, then the pricklish buzz receded and a wall of pain struck him down, a rolling boulder of agony that pulverised him.

  He sank back into the water.

  *

  Kazim awoke to darkness – a damp cloth wrapped over his eyes. Apart from that, as far as he could tell, he was floating in water. Am I in the river still? He remembered that brilliant flash, and the burning, boiling agony that followed. And he remembered Elena’s voice.

  What happened?

  His skin felt … numb … there was nothing else, really: no sensation except for a deep itching. But something in the totality of the darkness frightened him.

  ‘Elena?’ His voice was a hoarse croak.

  ‘I’m here, Kazim.’ Her voice was filled with exhaustion and worry.

  ‘Where—?’

  ‘We’re at the monastery. You’re going to be all right, I promise you.’ Her hand touched his shoulder and he felt her breath on his face. ‘I’m here,’ she repeated. She sounded rather like Tanuva Ankesharan – his Lakh ‘mother’ – did when one of her brood fell ill.

  ‘What happened? How—?’ He had a thousand questions, and no idea which should be asked first.

  ‘Hush. Sleep now.’ Her voice made it a command, and he couldn’t disobey.

  *

  When he woke next it was still dark. His skin itched like crazy. He wasn’t lying on his back in water any more but on his front on a mattress, and as far as he could tell, he was still naked. Cloth still bound his eyes – he could feel it – and everything was dark. He tried to reach his gnosis, but he couldn’t, and the feeling of helplessness that gave him was frightening.

  ‘Elena?’

  No reply.

  ‘ELENA!’

  He heard running feet as she cried, ‘I’m coming!’

  She hurried in and asked anxiously, ‘What is it?’

  He felt immediately ashamed at his small panic and admitted, ‘It’s nothing – I woke up, that is all.’ His limbs felt leaden, but at least he could feel them. He groped around for a sheet. ‘Where are my clothes? Why is my face bandaged—?’ He swallowed as a new fear struck him. ‘My eyes—?’

  ‘Will be fine,’ she answered firmly. ‘Lie still, you idiot.’ A sheet settled gently over him. ‘I was just letting your skin breathe – it’ll heal faster that way.’

  His hands flew to the bandage about his face. ‘But—?’

  She caught his wrists firmly. ‘Leave it,’ she said sharply. ‘They are mending well, but they need rest.’

  ‘Am I blind?’

  ‘No, no – you’re not blind, but it will take a little time for your eyes to fully recover.’

  He forced himself to do something like relax. ‘What happened?’ he whispered after he had calmed himself a little.

  She snorted. ‘You just about killed yourself. What on earth made you use electrical energy in water you were actually swimming in yourself?’

  He had no idea what she meant. ‘Electrical energy? What is that? I only wanted to catch a fish—’

  She choked back a laugh. ‘Kore Almighty!’ He felt her lean over him, felt the weight of her elbows beside his shoulder. ‘You idiot! Don’t you know that—? Sol et Lune, you didn’t know, did you?’ Her voice went up an octave and she sounded close to hysteria. ‘It’s all my fault – I should have taught you—’

  ‘I was just trying to lure out the fish, then blast it with lightning,’ he interrupted her. ‘But he was bigger than I thought—’

  ‘Ha! Was he ever! He was almost as big as I am. If you weren’t a mage you probably would be dead. He’d have held you under until you drowned. Biggest damn catfish I’ve ever seen,’ she added in an impressed voice.

  ‘In Baranasi they sometimes catch catfish as heavy as oxen,’ he told her. ‘But I never thought there would be something so large here.’ He cursed. ‘Shame it got away.’

  She laughed again. ‘Oh no it didn’t! You put enough energy into the river to kill every fish within a hundred yards, and then some.’ Her voice dropped. ‘Water and lightning together are very powerful: the water feeds the lightning. The only reason you’re still alive is that you were the originator of the blast and that softened its impact enough that all you suffered were burns.’ She patted his cheek. ‘You’re lucky I’m a healer. You’ve lost most of the skin from your torso and legs, and you would have been blind if I hadn’t got you under treatment immediately.’

  He felt his skin prickle with retrospective fear and had to calm his breathing as she went on, ‘Three layers of skin I’ve had to slough away – but don’t worry: I’ve smoothed the skin pigment so there aren’t any blotchy patches. You’re a work in progress, but I think you’ll be back on your feet in a few days.’

  ‘How long was I … ?’ He paused, almost afraid to ask the question, but she patted his shoulder reassuringly.

  ‘Asleep?’ she finished for him. ‘Almost two weeks.’ She poked him lightly. ‘You do look a little odd, though, now that you’re white-skinned.’

  ‘WHAT—?’

  Strong but gentle hands restrained him as he tried to push himself upright. ‘Calm, Kazim, calm. You need to relax and rest if you are going to get better quickly. Don’t worry, you’ll soon get used to it – I have.’ She laughed slyly. ‘Would you like some catfish stew?’

  *

  When she did finally let him pull off the bandages, of course his skin wasn’t white at all; that had been her idea of a joke. It was certainly paler than it had been, though. All his chest hair was gone, and his legs were hairless too, but his head and beard were fine – because they’d been out of the water, Elena said.

  The light hurt his eyes at first, but she had been ministering him closely, feeding him with healing-gnosis and gradually unwrapping the gauzy bandage, letting a little more light in every day so that his eyes could accustom themselves bit by bit to raw daylight. She made sure he had a sheet draped over his body all the time now, even though he knew that she’d not just seen every inch of him, but she’d been washing him and cleaning up his waste. The embarrassment was almost overpowering.

  ‘I owe you my life again,’ he said, more bitterly than he’d intended.

  ‘Well, sorry about that,’ she responded caustically.

  He floundered. ‘No, no, I didn’t mean—’ He tried to rephrase it so it sounded less insulting. ‘It’s just that all I seem to do is owe people.’

  ‘It must hurt, to be indebted to a ferang jadugara, huh? How nefari does that make you?’

  He winced. ‘Many lashes.’

  Her eyebrows went up and her lips quivered in that indignant way she had, but for once she didn’t launch into another diatribe of criticism. ‘Lashes? The Kore haven’t burned sinners at the stake for a long time.’ She thought about that, and then added fairly, ‘Apart from during the Crusades.’

  ‘Better to purge the flesh than burn eternally,’ he quoted. Though his memory of the exact words was hazy, Haroun had said something of the sort to him once. He wondered where the Scriptualist was – was he even still alive? He wiped his eyes and they stayed clear this time, though the dim room seemed horribly bright still.

  ‘And the women are lashed also?’

  He shook his head. ‘If a nefara woman knowingly pollutes another man, she is stoned.’

  ‘Why are women always treated worse than men?’ she asked sourly.

  He shrugged. ‘It is just how it is. Ask a Godspeaker, not me.’


  ‘I’ve had enough debates with priests to last my lifetime,’ she said dismissively. ‘They are all liars – some of them even know they are.’

  He made a warding gesture in case an apsara was listening. Ahm’s angels watched every act and recorded every sin, the Godspeakers taught. ‘You should not insult holy men.’

  She sighed heavily and sat beside him, propping her elbows on the bed as she often did. Her blonde hair, tied back, gleamed like platinum. She looked both mildly irritated and amused. ‘Anyway, Kazim Makani, the only thing you owe me is thanks. I don’t store debts.’

  ‘You would not survive in Baranasi. Debts are what they trade.’

  She smiled at that, which pleased him enough that his own mouth twitched involuntarily.

  ‘Oh look,’ she teased. ‘The stern warrior smiled.’ Her eyes were warm, but she looked away shyly. ‘La, I shall let you wash yourself, now you don’t need my help any more.’ She stood up and bustled away, as if she too found the little moment of intimacy too much.

  ‘Elena?’

  ‘Mm?’

  ‘Thank you.’

  She smiled. ‘Debt paid.’

  Then she was gone.

  *

  Spin, block and dance away. Bang, bang! The staves of tempered wood bashed together. Lunge and go! Elena felt an exhilarated buzz in her veins as she executed the movements perfectly, and a flash of admiration at the way Kazim stayed with her. Then his stave was flashing at her face, even as he dropped and lashed his lead foot sideways.

  ‘Uhh!’ she flipped sideways, let the motion flow with her gnosis, spiralling through the air and out of his reach above the pond. She was wearing a red ribbon on her arm to show that she was bleeding, but to her surprise Kazim hadn’t declined to practise with her. It gave her hope: she might actually be getting through to him, maybe changing his views.

  ‘Cheat!’ He slashed at her, but couldn’t reach, even though he leapt at her from the lip of the bridge railing. She laughed and righted herself in mid-air.