by Lisle, Holly
Hasmal had insisted that she would be on the beach waiting for the two of them when they arrived. Ian had accused him of lying, and morning had proved him right.
When the night crew finished loading and rowed back to the ship, and the day crew scattered to find more treasure, he turned on his shipwright. “Now you can tell me what the two of you have been looking for all this time. What is it that she’s found? What did the two of you really come here for?”
Hasmal hooked his thumbs into his belt and glared up at Ian. “You’ve been bedding her, Cap’n. You’re the one she’d share her pillow talk with.”
“I didn’t share . . . my . . . pillow talk with . . . anyone,” Kait said. She staggered out from the cover of the forest, and Ian gasped. All he could recognize of her was her voice, and that was uncharacteristically harsh. She was skeletally thin, so that her clothes hung on her like unpitched tents on a tent pole. Scars in various stages of healing covered her face and every other piece of skin he could see. Her hair tangled in her face, matted with clots of blood and dirt. Her ashen color and the waxiness of her skin would have convinced him, had she not been upright and speaking, that she was already dead.
His anger dissipated, as if it were fog beneath a blazing sun. “Kait? By Brethwan, what’s happened to you?”
“I . . . I found it,” she said to Hasmal. Then she turned to Ian. And smiled. And sagged.
She managed to catch herself just short of collapse. She breathed like she’d been running. “We need to . . . get started now. I figure . . . the place where it’s hidden . . . is . . . about three days’ walk. Plus . . . three days back.”
Ian almost couldn’t breathe. “Hasmal, get her into the boat. We’ve got to have the physick look at her.”
Hasmal said, “The physick is out hunting for treasure with the rest of them. He didn’t want anyone to question his share.”
“Damnall.” He put his head down, thinking. “Then we’ll get her out to the ship and ring the bell. By the time the physick gets back, we can have something done for her.”
“I’m fine,” Kait said. “But we . . . have to hurry.”
“You aren’t fine!” Ian found himself terrified for her—terrified that she might collapse and die at any moment.
Kait gave Hasmal a beseeching look. “Tell him I’m . . . fine, Hasmal.”
“You aren’t fine,” Hasmal said. “You’re damn near dead.”
“I just need . . .” She sagged again, and Ian could see she had more difficulty preventing her fall.
He picked her up and kissed her once. She felt like a bird in his arms, too light and fragile to survive. To Hasmal he said, “Back to the ship. We’ll figure out what happened to her and what we’re going to do about it when we get there.”
Ian’s emotions took him by surprise. He didn’t need her anymore; he had the city that would make him rich and powerful beyond measure, and if she were to die from her injuries, he would be able to claim primary possession of it. But as he and Hasmal rowed her out to the Peregrine, he discovered that he wanted her, and that the wanting went deeper than any amusement she provided in his bed. He wanted to argue with her again about the relative merits of the philosophies of Farellhau and N’stanri. He wanted to sit in front of a great fire in a great House with her and recount the adventures that had brought them to that place of wealth and power and happiness. Or, he realized, he would be happy to spend the rest of his life sailing across Matrin’s great seas with her at his side. Ian Draclas stared at the gaunt, dying woman in his arms and discovered to his dismay that somewhere between deciding to claim her city for the wealth and determining to marry her for the Family power, he had fallen irretrievably in love. In doing that, the wealth and the power that could undoubtedly be his fell by the wayside, and his only concern became her life.
By the time they reached the ship, she was barely breathing. Ian tried to keep her awake and talking, while Hasmal brought in water.
“Until the physick gets back, we can try to get some of this into her. She looks dehydrated.”
Ian nodded. He cradled her head in one arm and helped her swallow the water Hasmal poured into her mouth by stroking her throat. Before long, the two of them noticed an improvement. She began to swallow without assistance, and finally she opened her eyes and reached for the cup and began drinking on her own.
When she spoke again, her first word was, “Food.” And it was her only word for quite some time. Hasmal brought things from the storeroom and the galley and Kait devoured them and requested more. The food helped faster than Ian could have imagined. Within two stations, he could see where she had actually put on weight—she went from being skeletal to being merely frail. Further, her wounds healed themselves as he watched. She ate constantly, not speaking at all except to ask for more. In his entire life he had never seen one person consume so much food.
Finally she pushed her plate back. “We have to go after the Mirror now,” she said. “We’ll need help. It’s much larger than I expected. The two of you, me, maybe two other people. Some sort of travois or sledge to drag it back on. Supplies for three days out and three days back. Probably weapons. I crossed paths with predators that would have found me tasty in human form, though.”
Ian said, “We aren’t going after anything. You nearly died today—”
She cut him off. “I found the single artifact that I claim as my portion of our treasure. I renounce my claim to everything else.”
Ian froze for just an instant, as greed briefly reasserted itself. Then he shook it off. “Tell me what you found.”
It took her a while, but she did.
Finally, he managed to take it all in. “An artifact that brings back the dead. And you’re going to revive the Galweighs. Once you learn how to use the thing, anyway.”
“Yes.”
It sounded like madness to him, but the Ancients knew more about everything than anyone had since rediscovered. Perhaps the reason the Wizards hadn’t been worried about destroying the world was that they knew a way to bring everyone back afterward—at least everyone they liked. He guessed that the person or people who knew how to do it must have been killed, though.
He took Kait’s hand in his own. If the Mirror of Souls did work, then he would gain quite a bit of favor with his future in-laws. If it didn’t, he gained the greatest share of the wealth of the city. In either instance, he won. And he would have done it without hurting Kait in any way.
“We’ll go after it tonight,” he said. “I’ll help you in every way I can. I’ll even help you get it to your House so that you can revive your Family.”
Her brow creased in puzzlement. “You will? But why?”
He stroked the soft skin on the back of her hand, and felt the delicate bones beneath. She needed to eat more before they left, he decided. He wouldn’t risk her running herself to the brink of death again. “Because I love you,” he told her.
It felt funny to know that was the truth.
* * *
“He kissed her,” Rrru-eeth said to Jayti. At Rrru-eeth’s request, the two of them had waited in the trees above the beach; Rrru-eeth said she was concerned about the captain’s behavior.
Jayti had grown used to her concern. Every day when Ian Draclas went treasure-hunting with Kait and Hasmal, Rrru-eeth complained about him being in the clutches of the skinshifter and the wizard. She mentioned at least once each day that she thought she and Jayti ought to get Kait and Hasmal off by themselves and kill them, so that the captain would be able to break free from their spell. She fretted that he would forget he had promised to leave them behind. Now, spying on them from the cover of the trees, Rrru-eeth radiated anger.
“I can’t say I like it,” Jayti said, “but as captain, he can do as he pleases.”
Rrru-eeth’s eyebrows rose. “Do you think so? Tell me, do you really?” Her voice was a dangerous growl, laced with scorn.
As much as Jayti adored Rrru-eeth, his first loyalty was to Ian Draclas, who had saved him from h
anging ten years before, when Jayti, at the age of seventeen, had been accused of touching a paraglesa. He’d been an assistant to the cook in the Sabir House in Wilhene, and the wife of the paraglese had taken a fancy to him. She’d specifically requested him to bring a tray of confections and a carafe of wine to her room “for a small party.” He’d discovered when he arrived that she intended the party to consist of only the two of them, and she had more in mind than confections for her dessert.
He—thinking the paraglese would have him drawn and quartered if he touched the man’s wife—refused to participate in her party. She—with no appreciation of his care for her honor—immediately called the guards and accused Jayti of accosting her.
Ian Draclas had somehow heard of his plight, and had spirited him out of the Sabir House dungeon. Jayti still had no idea how he had managed the trick, or why he had. But he never forgot his rescue, nor the debt he owed the man who had accomplished it.
If the man found a woman he liked, Jayti thought he deserved to keep her, for however long he could.
“Rrru-eeth, even if he takes them with us when we sail, he’ll leave both of them in Calimekka. They’ll be out of your life forever in just a few more months.”
“He kissed her. What if he wants her to stay aboard the ship with him?”
Jayti snorted. “She’s a parata. You can see Family in her very bones. She won’t give up House and power and riches to tramp around the sea in the Peregrine with him. You mark my words—she’ll vanish from the captain’s life the second we make landfall.”
Rrru-eeth said nothing. But the look in her eyes sent ice down Jayti’s spine. He thought he would be wise to stay close to the captain for a while.
* * *
When the storm finally ended, the Wind Treasure lay far north of Kait’s position. Ry Sabir felt her presence as a fixed mark, south and east. Knowledge of Kait’s position meant nothing at that moment, however. The Wind Treasure’s sails were rags, her hull leaked dangerously from half a dozen places, and she’d lost nearly a third of her crew. The captain said the Rophetian ship would be days under repair at best; he also said Ry could spend his time pacing or he could help with the work, but that if he and his lieutenants didn’t help, they would be weeks instead of days in the barren northern harbor where they’d come to rest.
Sabir Wolves did not do manual labor. Ever.
So I’m lucky to be declared dead, he thought. Mother won’t have to die of shame.
Ry put himself to work, discovering when he did that he was less skilled than the least of the crew. He knew nothing of the shipwright’s tools, nothing of the builder’s techniques, nothing of the captain’s needs. He fumbled at the simplest tasks, and at first he irritated the men and women who made their livelihood from ships and the sea. In his favor, he had only his tremendous strength and stamina, and his willingness to learn. He applied both to the tasks he was given, determined that he would do whatever he had to do to get to Kait. He struggled, he ached, and he learned.
I’m coming, Kait, he thought as he worked.
You’re mine. You’re mine. You were born to be mine, and you belong to me and me alone.
And I’m coming for you.
Chapter 31
Kait led the party up the walk to the shrine. No sign of her battle with the guardians remained. The path was perfectly groomed again, the trampled flowers replaced, the bodies removed. Even knowing that the guardians kept watch all around the shrine, and even knowing where they hid, she could not see a single one of them.
Ian and Hasmal, and Jayti and a sailor named Turben—who had both volunteered to help bring the Mirror back to the ship—followed her up that perfect path to the shrine. She crossed the threshold first, and got the first unobstructed look at the Mirror.
It had been made by someone with an eye for beauty. Its sleek, unornamented lines called to her mind lilies and orchids. It had both a “flower” and a “stem.” The “flower” consisted of a ring of five connected petals of luminous platinum-white metal, the largest of which bore colorful incised markings. The base supporting this ring mimicked the smooth curve of three long, swordlike leaves, also of that glowing white metal. The “stem” was the most amazing part of the entire artifact—a column of flowing golden light that began at the ground, rose between the three leaves, and spiraled outward in the center of the ring to disappear at last when it touched the petals. Kait stood watching the movement of the light, mesmerized.
Ian came to stand beside her, and rested a hand on her shoulder. “I doubted you when you told me about this,” he said softly. “I didn’t think such a device could exist. But when I look at this, I can see its value. It’s worth more than everything else we’ve found so far. And it will be worth even more than that when it gives you back your parents and sisters and brothers.”
She nodded, too full of emotion to even speak. She reached out a hand and touched one of the petals, and through her fingertips felt the Mirror humming with a life of its own. She felt that stirring as a promise, as rich and beautiful in its own way as the love she’d felt when her soul touched the Reborn. The Mirror promised to return her world to her, or at least the part of it that mattered most.
Jayti and his friend Turben put together the travois on which they would strap the Mirror. While they were lacing cord around their poles and through the sailcloth they’d carried with them, Jayti pulled the captain aside. It was clear he didn’t intend for Kait or Hasmal to hear what he said. Hasmal wouldn’t be able to; Kait, studying the Mirror, pretended she didn’t.
Voice soft and nervous, he said, “Turben and I came with you for a reason, Cap’n. I expect trouble when we get back. Rrru-eeth’s scared of yon Kait and the wizard—she wants them left behind, and she thinks you don’t intend to do it.”
Ian glanced at Kait and Hasmal, then looked past them as if he were checking out the area. “She’s right,” he said. “I’m not leaving either of them. I love Kait. And even if I didn’t, she’s the one who brought us to this city. Hasmal offered to sacrifice himself while working the spell that got us out of the Wizards’ Circle.” He turned and looked evenly at Jayti. “I’m not that disloyal. And I don’t think you are, either.”
Jayti shrugged. “That’s why we’re here.” He kept lacing the cord, and kept his head down. “They may need protection on the way back. Rrru-eeth may intend for them to have an . . . accident. And if she does, I think she’ll be able to get some of the others to help her.”
“Just some?”
“Most. You know Turben and I aren’t the only ones who owe you . . . but most everyone is afraid, Cap’n. Knowing you’re sharing space with skinshifters and magic don’t let a man sleep easy at night.”
“Even you?”
He shrugged again. “I’m no braver than most. But I reckon if you think they’re trustworthy, then they are. You’ve had my life in your hand more than once, and I’m still drawing air.”
The captain patted him on the shoulder. “I vouch for both of them with my life, Jayti.”
“That’s more than enough for me.” He finally looked up from what he was doing. “We’ll get them back safe, me and Turben. I swear it.”
Kait’s eyes blurred with tears. That a man would offer his life in protection of hers out of loyalty to the captain stunned her. Ian was a pirate, she knew. She suspected he was barzanne, as well—the son of Family ejected, disowned, and declared never born for some sin or imagined sin that he’d committed. But he was more than that. Much more.
She wondered if she would ever find out all there was to know about him.
When the travois was ready, they faced the dilemma of moving the Mirror onto it.
“Can we just pick it up?” the captain asked.
Everyone looked at Kait.
Amalee told her, Don’t touch the light.
Kait passed that information on. It was harder advice to follow than it seemed. Her own hand brushed very near it when she helped pick the Mirror up, and when it did, her skin pri
ckled and the honeysuckle scent grew stronger. So did the scent of decay. She pulled back, and gagged.
Ian glanced at her face and frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“The smell. It got worse when my hand came too near the light.”
His puzzled expression intensified. “Smell?”
Now Hasmal looked puzzled. “The smell. From the Mirror of Souls. Sweet, and a little rotten.”
“It doesn’t smell,” Ian said. Jayti and Turben agreed.
“This close, the smell is almost overwhelming,” Kait said.
“I can’t smell a thing,” Jayti said. “And I have a good nose.”
“I don’t,” Hasmal said, “and I could smell the damn thing from the top of the ravine.”
“I followed it here by its smell,” Kait said.
They stood looking at each other, all equally puzzled. Then Hasmal smiled slightly. “I know what it is.”
“What?” Kait asked.
“The scent is magical in origin. You and I can smell it because of . . .” He winced as he glanced at the other three. “We’re . . . sensitive to magic. They aren’t, so for them, there is no smell.”
Kait sighed. “That makes sense.”
“Then it isn’t important?” the captain asked.
“Why would it be? It’s just a characteristic of the Mirror. It isn’t as if the scent does anything,” Hasmal said, and shrugged.
A little gingerly, they began dragging the Mirror away from the shrine. They passed out of the ravine as easily as they had entered, and with no sign that guardians existed there beyond the flower-lined walk and the carefully tended hedges. Their return took less than three days, perhaps because they were elated by the magnitude of their prize. Kait wanted to shout to the sky that she’d found what she came for. Except for a few times in childhood, and the day that she received her first diplomatic assignment, she could never remember being so happy.
She would embrace her mother again. She would talk with her father one more time about his horse breeding, about his prize stallion and beautiful broodmares. She would hear the voices of young cousins and nieces and nephews racing through the lower floors of the House, playing chase and can’t-find-me.
