The Bastard’s Pearl

by Connie Bailey

  “Now that I have your attention, will you walk outside with me?”

  “Why?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. I must show you.”

  Intrigued despite himself, Sheyn followed the red-haired daaksi into Luks’s private garden. He stopped when Djeyd stopped beside a pattering fountain. After trailing a hand in the cool water, Djeyd flicked droplets from his fingers into Sheyn’s face. Sheyn blinked, and the world wavered, wobbled on its axis, and started spinning again at a new tilt.

  “What did you do to me?” Sheyn asked slowly. His voice sounded muffled and distorted to his ears as though he were underwater. He sensed a vast presence hovering on the edge of becoming, unimaginably ancient and powerful. And then it arrived, not like Taankh trailing terror, but like a bird alighting.

  Djeyd closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they were liquid silver, and someone else was looking out of them. “My dearest child.” It was the sweetest voice Sheyn had ever heard.

  Sheyn’s skin puckered into gooseflesh. “Who are you?”

  “I am the avatar of Anaali.”

  Sheyn refused to give the avatar any sign of homage. “What do you want?”

  “Thank you for defeating my old enemy and bringing surcease of pain to the people of Kandaar. You have suffered much, but you have also accomplished much, and I thank you.”

  “I didn’t do it for you.”

  The avatar reached out, and Sheyn shied away. “It’s not my purpose to hurt you, child.”

  “Should it make me feel better to know that all the pain you’ve caused was an accident?”

  “I know it’s hard for you to understand, however—”

  “Hard!” Sheyn said loudly. “Hard? Don’t speak to me of hardness, Lady. I am the hardest thing you will ever know, and you made me this way.”

  “Then change.”

  “Why should I? Doesn’t my hardness suit your purposes?”

  “When you do things with hate in your heart, you blight the good you mean to do.” Anaali’s avatar put a hand on Sheyn’s head, and he didn’t rebuff it this time. “Let go of your hate and your rage. I know it has sustained you, but trust yourself to be strong without it.”

  “Sometimes you have to use your enemy’s methods against him.”

  “No. Never. For then you become your enemy.”

  Sheyn was silent for a moment before he spoke again. “Answer me one thing. Why did you take Kasha away from me? Why did it have to be him?”

  “He was the strongest, strong enough to fight a God.” Anaali’s avatar stroked Sheyn’s hair. “You made him strong.”

  “I made him strong so he could fulfill your plans?”

  “He saved your world from a future of darkness and pain.”

  Sheyn looked up, narrowing his eyes against the brightness of the Goddess’s aura. “Do you know how cruel it is to maneuver two people into love so you can sacrifice one of them?”

  “You wonder if I care what happens to my children?” Anaali’s avatar lifted Sheyn’s chin until their eyes met. “I own a sorrow deeper than any ocean. My despair encompasses the world.” The avatar smiled gently. “But I also have hope now, and it is more boundless than the sky.”

  “Hope.”

  “Yes, hope. Hope that the light will be a little brighter tomorrow. Can you feel that flutter in your heart? That is hope. Let it in, and oh, the miracles you’ll perform. You think yourself powerful now? Act out of love and know true power.”

  “My love died with Kasha.”

  “No, it did not. You still love him, or your anger at his loss would not be so huge. But this is not the way to honor his spirit.”

  “Why should I listen to you? You ruined my life.”

  “I showed you what it is to love and be loved in return.”

  “And then you took it away from me.”

  “No. Love never dies.”

  “But Kashyan is dead.”

  “Then mourn him and love again.” Anaali’s avatar smiled. “You will touch many lives with happiness, my Pearl.”

  “All but mine.” Sheyn turned his face from the Goddess’s avatar. “Please leave me alone,” he said as he hurried away.

  The spirit of the Goddess departed as well. Sad but still hopeful, Djeyd shivered in the aftermath of possession as he watched Sheyn walk away. The foreigner’s spirit still resisted, but it was that very stubbornness that had allowed him to survive and made him perfect for the Goddess’s purpose. Djeyd would be patient, though it pained him to watch Pearl suffer. Pearl was clever and would soon admit he needed Djeyd’s help to control the forces he wielded.

  THE MORNING after Sheyn returned to Taar Muergan, he sought High King Djulyan’s daaksi. Djeyd greeted him joyfully and bade him be at ease. Sheyn sat on a well-cushioned divan and accepted a goblet of wine. Before he spoke, he devoured a cake from the plate set thoughtfully in front of him.

  “How can I serve you?” Djeyd asked.

  “I’d like to talk about you. You’re more than you seem.”

  “Aren’t we all?”

  Sheyn ignored the arch remark. “You said you had things to teach me. What sorts of things?”

  “If you’re willing to submit to my instruction, I’ll teach you to control the power inside you.”

  “I believe that would be wise. Sometimes I feel as though the power will get free and burn everything in creation.” Sheyn paused. “Luks told me that my power increased each time—” He paused again. “When Kashyan and I—”

  “Your power increased each time you found joy with your master,” Djeyd said.

  “Yes, but even though Kasha is gone, my power increases every day.”

  “You’re like the first daaksim. Your spirit is connected to the boundless energy that flows all around us. You alone in all of this world can channel that power. You can continue to be a force for good, or you can allow your dark emotions to overwhelm you and lead you to do great evil.”

  “Then I suppose you’d better teach me.”

  “There is naught I’d rather do,” Djeyd said with a warm smile. “Shall we begin?”

  Sheyn nodded.

  Djeyd set an empty cup on the table. “Can you move the cup without touching it?”

  “Of course.” Sheyn focused his will, and the cup flew across the room to strike the wall.

  Djeyd picked up the cup and set it on the table again. “Try to move it a short distance.”

  “Tell me how.”

  “I cannot.” Djeyd gave Sheyn another smile. “But I can show you.”

  “How?”

  “You know how. Let it happen.”

  “I’ve always detested teachers like you,” Sheyn said, but he didn’t sound annoyed at all. He reached for the serenity that stole over him when Luks brushed his hair. In this stillness, he could hear Djeyd’s thoughts as though Djeyd was speaking to him. “Is it really so easy?”

  Djeyd nodded.

  Sheyn pictured the cup sliding smoothly over the polished wood. The cup moved slowly across the table until it was in front of Sheyn. It didn’t stop there but rose into the air where Sheyn caught it in his hand.

  “Remarkable.” Djeyd sat back. “You’ve just mastered something that should take an entire day of practice.”

  “You said it was easy, and it was.”

  “I must remember to repeat it, then. Do you feel tired?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Very well, lesson two.”

  While the Black Hawks enjoyed a time of ease in Taar Muergan, their leader spent his days and nights under the tutelage of Djeyd Flamehair. Djeyd taught Sheyn to call up the power as easily as whistling for a hound. Djeyd taught him how to control the power until Sheyn could use it to bring a cake to his hand or blast a wall of solid granite into dust. In a handful of days, Sheyn acquired a mastery that had once taken years to learn.

  “Honestly, it’s as though you know what to do by instinct,” Djeyd said after observing Sheyn light a candle from across the room.


  “And what of you?” Sheyn asked. “How long did it take you to learn?”

  “Do you still not know me?” A tear ran down Djeyd’s smooth cheek. “But how could you?” Another tear fell. “It breaks my heart that all I may do is offer advice.”

  Djeyd’s sorrow and regret was a cold wave that chilled Sheyn to the bone and threatened to drag him under. “I didn’t think you cared,” Sheyn whispered. He took Djeyd’s hand between his and pressed it warmly.

  “You wanted to hate me.”

  Sheyn nodded. “I blinded myself. I keep hoping I’ll outgrow the habit.”

  Djeyd kissed Sheyn’s hands. “You will. Promise me you’ll never give up hope again.”

  “That’s not an easy thing to do. Kasha—”

  “Promise me.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Then I’ve nothing more to teach you. Go and do as you will.”

  “How do you know you haven’t trained me to go out and wreak more destruction?”

  “I can’t know that for sure,” Djeyd said. “But in my heart, I feel you want to do good.” He leaned close to kiss Sheyn’s cheek. “I’ll just have to trust you.”

  “You really are a master manipulator, even better than my mother.” Sheyn stopped speaking abruptly.

  “You miss your mother,” Djeyd said. “There’s nothing wrong with that. Go ahead and weep if you need to.”

  “No, I’m fine.” Sheyn willed his tears back with an effort. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d thought of his home or his family.

  “You are fine, Pearl, but you have flaws. I don’t want those flaws to crack you wide open. The things that would escape might eat you alive.”

  “Charming,” Sheyn said. “If we’re done here, I should see how lazy my troop has become.”

  “I’ll go with you if you like.”

  “To see the Hawks or to finish the mission with me?”

  “Either or both.”

  Sheyn gave Djeyd one of the few genuine smiles Djeyd had seen since Kashyan was lost. “No,” he said. “I don’t want to compete with you for the men’s attention.”

  Djeyd smiled back. “Then I’ll wish you good fortune.”

  “Thank you… for everything. There are only a few temples left now that people have risen against them. This shouldn’t take long.”

  “And when all Taankh’s Servants are gone, what will you do?”

  “You’ve asked me that a dozen times. I still have no answer for you.”

  “But you’ll return to Taar Muergan.”

  “Yes, that much I know. I’ll come back because Velvet is here and because this is the last place I saw Kashyan alive.”

  Djeyd drew breath to speak but thought better of it. Why add to Pearl’s sorrow? “You must come to the Misty Vales with Velvet. It’s beautiful country and soothing to the spirit.”

  “Is that where you’re from?”

  Djeyd smiled. “I never satisfied your curiosity about me, did I?”

  “Who are you really?”

  “I’m a daaksi called Djeyd Flamehair. I was sent by My Lady to teach you.”

  “But you’re also the avatar. The perfect creature Velvet told me about.”

  Djeyd laughed. “The truth is that all daaksim are avatars of the Lady, but I was one of the First Ten. For centuries I have dwelled in the Unseen Realm until She called me to serve again.”

  “Why didn’t She use you to get rid of the Red Temple?”

  “Because I am not you.”

  Sheyn waited for Djeyd to say more, but he was left with that cryptic answer. He sighed and then bowed to Djeyd. “Until I see you again.”

  Djeyd pulled Sheyn into an awkward hug. Sheyn let his hands hover over Djeyd’s back and then relaxed into the embrace, wrapping his arms around Djeyd.

  “If I haven’t said it, I’m sorry for what this has cost you,” Djeyd whispered.

  “If I haven’t said it, I don’t hate you anymore,” Sheyn said. “You had no more choice than I did. It isn’t pleasant to be a chess piece of the Gods.”

  “Chess?”

  “A game of mock battles.”

  “Ah, I see. No, it’s not always pleasant, but we have the solace of knowing we saved the world.”

  “There are times I’d trade this world for one of Kasha’s kisses.”

  “Go,” Djeyd said, giving Sheyn a shove. “I’m not in the mood to weep.”

  Sheyn went to bid farewell to Luks and left the palace for the royal stables. He collected Karkaran and rode to the building where the Hawks were billeted. The troopers were happy to hear they’d soon be in the saddle again. They’d enjoyed the pleasures the city had to offer, but they were becoming restless. After a feast provided by King Kholya, the Hawks went to bed in anticipation of an early-morning ride.

  Chapter 28

  NEAR THE isolated village of Gaaz on the western border of Sumadin was the last known temple of the God of Death. It was not much more than a shrine in a cave, but the priests held the villagers in sway, collecting tithes of food, coin, and sacrifices. With the lives of their children at stake, the people of Gaaz obeyed the Servants of Taankh when they were called to worship.

  At sunset, a large fire had been built in front of the sacred cave and tended through the night. At dawn, it was hot enough for the ceremony, and the people of Gaaz gathered around it. The bound sacrifice was led from the cave where he’d spent the night. Two priests supported the man as he tottered between them to the fire. A priest struck him behind the knees, and the prisoner dropped to the ground. The Servants picked him up and crammed him into the waist-high metal cage. A rope was attached to the ring at the top of the cage and thrown over a thick bough of the shrine’s blood tree. With threats, the priests coerced six of the cowed villagers to haul the rope and raise the cage from the ground. The sacrifice writhed frantically as a priest used a pole to push the cage over the fire. A priest chanted, and the village men waited for the signal to let go of the rope.

  The people who’d been forced to gather at the edge of the forest looked around uneasily at the sound of running horses coming closer. The priests called out for order as the first horseman appeared between the trees. The Servants of Taankh had heard no rumors of the campaign against the Red Temple, and the attack on them came as a total shock. The first rider charged in, sweeping a priest’s head from his shoulders with a swing of his sword. The villagers screamed and shouted as they fled the approach of the white-haired creature on the giant horse. Sheyn reined in as he recognized one of the priests.

  “Yozif!”

  Yozif dropped the pole he was using to hold the cage over the fire. The men holding the rope ran, and the cage fell free, slamming into Yozif. The priest toppled into the fire, and the cage landed atop him. Sheyn shouted an order, and a Black Hawk lassoed the cage and pulled it from the flames. Yozif was dragged out of the fire, but he was dead. Sheyn had wished to kill Yozif himself, but he was not unhappy with the means of death.

  “Free any prisoners,” he called out as the chaos subsided. He noticed the men trying to open the cage’s lock and bent his will on it. The metal bolt popped out of the hasp, and the door fell open, allowing the Hawks to pull the victim free. Sheyn walked Karkaran over to address the villagers. “You are free,” he told them. “Never again will the Servants of the God of Death steal your children for their rituals. You may keep the fruits of your fields and orchards to feed your families. You need not fear revenge, for the evil of the Red Temple has been scoured from Kandaar and the high king’s men will once again patrol the borders.”

  As he turned from the grateful thanks of the people, a great weariness came over Sheyn. Leaving the Hawks to clean up, he rode back to camp. Sheyn unsaddled Karkaran and let the charger wander to crop grass. After drinking as much water as he could hold and pouring the rest over his head, Sheyn sat with his back against a tree and finger-combed the hair away from his face. He was falling into a doze when he heard the troop returning and was surprised to see they’d bro
ught the prisoner with them.

  “Pearl!” Dasha called out as he leaped from the saddle. “Are you well?”

  “Well enough.” Sheyn stood. “I’m wondering what I’ll do with myself now that all the Red Priests are gone.”

  “You could come home with me.” Dasha grinned.

  Pearl gave him a tired smile.

  “I can see you need to rest, but this—” Dasha’s words were cut off by a shout from the former prisoner.

  “Sheyn!”

  Sheyn tensed. He knew that voice. When the troopers tried to restrain the stranger, Sheyn gestured to them to let him go.

  “Sheyn!” the tall man said joyfully as he stopped in front of Sheyn. “They took everything except this. This one thing they couldn’t take from me.” He held out a delicate ring on the palm of his hand.

  Sheyn stared at the piece of jewelry and then looked up at the man’s face. “Aeriq?”

  “Yes!” Aeriq paused. “I’ll look more like myself when I’ve shaved.”

  “How?”

  “With a razor, of course.”

  “I meant how did you come to be here?”

  “It’s quite a tale. Is it possible I could recount it somewhere more comfortable?”

  Sheyn stared at Aeriq for another long moment and then threw his arms around him as the Hawks muttered in confusion. “I can’t believe it. It’s so odd to hear Laronese.” He let go when Aeriq winced. “Are you wounded?”

  “I have a few bumps and bruises, and I think my left arm is broken.”

  “Come with me and let a healer look at it.”

  Sheyn refused to answer any of his men’s questions about the foreigner who behaved so familiarly with him. He took Aeriq up behind him on Karkaran and headed for Taar Muergan. The city was a day and a half away, and the Hawks made camp that night at the foot of the mountains on the Muergath border. As the men built fires and cooked dinner, Sheyn sat and talked with Aeriq.

  “I can hardly believe you’re here though I see you sitting in front of me,” Sheyn said.

  “I’m having a little trouble believing it myself.” Aeriq flexed his arm in the tightly wrapped bandage. “You make a fair healer.”