by Lara Morgan
‘Rafe?’ Shaan knelt with shaking hands over the Seducer. She could feel his life leaving him, like a whirlpool draining in a rush, and she touched him and flung her light into him.
‘Rafe!’ she cried out, desperate to stop the blood, but the wound was too great and she felt his life slip away beneath her hands.
‘Shaan!’ Aran was beside her, pulling on her arm. ‘It’s too late. Come on.’ His face was grim, blood spattered. All around them men were dying. Shaan was finding it hard to breathe, fury winding up inside her.
Shaan, move! Tallis’s voice was in her head. A serpent is coming for you.
Aran dragged her upright and Shaan saw, through the wide-spaced pillars of a colonnade, the open area of the courtyard. It was filled with people fighting, the air loud with the cries and crash of battle and the whumping swoop of serpents’ wings.
‘Follow me, draw your knife!’ Aran shouted. Her hands shaking, Shaan obeyed, taking Nilah by the arm and pulling her along. They ran toward the colonnade, passing under its shadow and through to the other side, where they paused. There must have been a hundred or more fighters in the courtyard and Shaan’s heart stilled as she caught a glimpse of blond hair and saw Balkis in the centre, fighting hard, his sword swinging. Relief flooded her. He was still alive. Not far from him Rorc was attacking the armsmen with a blade in each hand. The line of black-clad Faithful and riders surged in stubborn formation against the more chaotic armsmen, beating them back to the edge of the courtyard toward the council chambers. Hovering above, serpents swooped over the armsmen as well, making them cower, distracting them. She saw Attar shooting arrows down upon them from his serpent’s back, a wide grin on his face.
‘Wait until they push them back!’ Aran shouted. Shaan nodded, checking that Nilah was safe behind a column. She had seen people fight before, seen people die, but never a battle, never like this. So many hurt, dying; the pressure behind her breastbone was so fierce she felt it might break her chest apart.
The fighting began to spread, factions of armsmen breaking off, the Faithful in pursuit, and several times Shaan and Aran were forced to fight off those who sought to get by them. Then suddenly Tallis’s voice was in Shaan’s mind.
Now, run now! he called, and like an echo she heard the hiss of a serpent coasting through her mind, calling in the ancient tongue: Arak-si, come!
Shaan pulled Nilah out from behind the pillar. ‘Aran!’ she shouted, but he was fighting and didn’t hear. ‘Stay behind me!’ Shaan held tight to her knife as they ran toward the clear patch of paving behind the heaving line of fighters. She felt rather than saw the serpent coming for them, the wind from her wings stirring the dust on the ground and rattling the potted trees, the ground vibrating under their feet as it hit the paving stones. But Tallis wasn’t on it. Where was he?
Go! he said. I have to stay and end the battle.
‘Quick, get on!’ Shaan shoved Nilah forward and the young Guardian climbed awkwardly up the serpent’s foreleg to her back. Shaan sheathed her knife and followed close behind, the warm, dry heat of the serpent’s hide almost familiar beneath her hands. Asrith; Shaan realised she suddenly knew the serpent’s name. As soon as she’d touched her, knowledge of the serpent’s name flowed into her as easily as the understanding of the ancient words had come before.
Arak-si, Asrith spoke in her mind. Ready?
Fly, Shaan told her and sitting behind Nilah held tight with her thighs and grabbed the young woman’s waist as the serpent launched into the air, her wings beating hard. They tilted in a lazy circle over the palace and she saw that another legion of armsmen was swarming toward the central courtyard. The Faithful and riders would be crushed between them.
Balkis, she thought in panic. Tallis! she called, desperately trying to see him among the swirling confusion of serpents in the air.
I see. His mind voice came clearly through to her and she suddenly saw him astride Marathin, leading half a dozen serpents down toward the encroaching men. Go, he said.
But Balkis, she protested.
Go! he commanded Asrith, and Shaan felt the shock of his power echo in her own mind as the serpent obeyed and began to fly away from the palace, heading toward the hills. Tallis! she screamed, searching for Balkis’s blond head among the fighters.
I will keep him safe, he sent back, and Shaan could do nothing more than hold on behind Nilah as Asrith bore them away.
Chapter 23
The battle in the palace between the armsmen and Rorc’s warriors was bloody and fierce, much worse and much harder than the thrust to escape the yards had been. There, they had taken the men by surprise and many had run, but they had gone back to the palace and regrouped, and it was only due to the serpents that the Faithful and riders were able to escape from them a second time. Hovering above the courtyard, Tallis threw commands like arrows, sending the creatures down to plough through the armsmen advancing through the city streets and seeking to block off the warriors’ escape. The men’s arrows bounced harmlessly off the serpents’ hides as they rushed at the soldiers, opening a way for Balkis to lead the survivors from the palace and out of the city, four of the Isles serpents following them as escort. Rorc and four Faithful remained to ensure all got out, and Tallis sent serpents to pick them up, the creatures driving the remaining armsmen back with their tails. Seeing the ease with which the serpents were able to stop the men, Tallis wondered how any of them would survive when Azoth came.
The boat from the Isles is here, Marathin whispered as they rose high above the palace. He turned, the wind whipping his hair, and saw, far below, the masted ship docking at the main port.
Haraka! Attar’s mount banked and spun in mid-air at the sound of his call. The ship, Tallis called, and saw Attar raise a hand in salute as he leaned down along the serpent’s neck and they swooped back over the city toward the docks. It would be a tight squeeze to fit them all on Haraka’s back, but it was possible.
Tallis dropped a hand to his serpent’s hide, feeling the resonating thrumming fill him. To the meeting point, he commanded. Marathin stretched and tilted her wings, wheeling away from the palace to follow the distant silhouettes of the other serpents.
By the time he arrived a light, misty rain had started to fall. The spot Rorc had chosen was in a valley, an open area of mud and grass surrounded by tree-covered hills. Rorc was talking to the four men of the Faithful who would be going with them as far as the border with the Clan Lands. Shaan was with Nilah, Mailun and Irissa under the scant shelter of some trees while Morfessa sat on a rock nearby trying to keep out of the rain. Of the serpents, only Asrith waited patiently, ignoring the water that ran down her hide. The rest drifted in the sky and beyond the valley waiting for his command.
Shaan ran to him as soon as he dismounted and he knew the question she would ask.
‘Balkis is alive,’ he said before she could speak. ‘He led the others out of the city.’
‘Were they pursued?’
‘The serpents with him will stop anyone.’ He could almost taste that reversal of her healing ability on his tongue — a dark edge, bitter as rust, which had allowed her to kill the guard.
‘You’re all right?’ he said.
‘I’m alive,’ she said, but the strain around her eyes worried him.
Mailun came over to them. ‘Son.’ She reached out to embrace him briefly, tightly. She had dark circles beneath her eyes like bruises.
‘I’m fine, Mother,’ he said, and gently pushed her away. ‘How many?’ he asked Shaan.
‘Rorc thinks twelve, maybe thirteen dead. As soon as the rest of our supplies get here, he says we’ll leave.’
She gestured to Rorc, who was talking with Morfessa. As if feeling their eyes upon him, he glanced at the three of them, but then Tallis was distracted by Shaan’s gasp.
‘Tuon?’ Her face suddenly lit up with hope and Tallis saw Haraka landing in the wet valley. On the serpent’s back were not three but four people: Attar, Shaan’s friend Tuon, the Seer Veila and anot
her man he didn’t recognise. Surprised he wondered who it was, but his sister was already running across the grass toward them, flinging herself into the blonde woman’s embrace with a happy cry.
***
Tuon was thinner and looked weary, her thick blonde hair pulled back from her face, but she gave Shaan a wide smile as they met, holding her tight for a long moment.
‘You’re back,’ Shaan said, her voice muffled by Tuon’s shoulder.
‘Just in time, it seems.’ Tuon pulled back. ‘Your hair is longer.’
‘And you’re wearing trousers.’ Shaan scrutinised her unusual clothing. ‘I didn’t think you even owned any.’
‘They’re borrowed.’
‘Obviously.’ She tugged at the belt holding them up. ‘You’re thinner.’
‘Says the woman the size of a stick. But you’re alive.’ She held tight to her hand and Shaan was suddenly almost overwhelmed with the need to share with her friend all that had happened since they’d been parted.
‘Thanks to my brother,’ she said.
Tuon was about to speak when Veila reached them, followed by the slim, dark-skinned man who had come with them.
‘Shaan, I’m glad to see you’re well,’ Veila said. A strange, sad smile crossed the tiny woman’s lips.
‘Thank you,’ Shaan replied uneasily.
‘This is Ivar,’ Tuon gestured to the man, ‘Torg’s brother. He brought the Prophet’s scrolls for us from the Isles.’
‘Hello.’ Ivar grinned and Shaan felt a sharp stab in her stomach like a kick; his smile was so much like Torg’s. She took his extended hand.
‘I’m Shaan. I’m sorry about Torg,’ she said.
‘Thank you.’ He inclined his head. ‘And my mother thanks you.’
‘You brought the scrolls?’ Shaan asked.
‘It seemed right to do so,’ Ivar said.
‘Hopefully they’ll be of use.’ Rorc spoke behind her and Shaan saw the leap of emotion, quickly hidden, in Tuon’s eyes.
‘Veila, Tuon,’ the Commander said, ‘I’m glad to see you both back unharmed.’ Rorc’s expression betrayed nothing. ‘Ivar.’ He extended a hand to the Isles man. ‘Welcome and thank you for your help.’
‘Yes, wonderful.’ Morfessa, who had followed Rorc, also shook his hand. ‘I am eager to see the scrolls again.’ His eyes were bright with interest.
‘Later,’ Rorc said. ‘We’ll be leaving soon. Come and wait out of the rain.’ His gaze passed over Tuon then Shaan, who noticed sudden tension ripple through her friend.
‘Come on,’ she said quietly, taking her hand, ‘come and meet Tallis and my mother.’
‘Mother?’ Tuon said in surprise.
‘I know,’ Shaan said. ‘See what happens when you go away?’ She began to lead her toward the trees where Tallis was talking with Attar.
‘Is that the Guardian?’ Tuon said, spotting Nilah. ‘What’s she doing here?’
‘Didn’t Attar tell you anything?’
‘There wasn’t time.’
Shaan sighed. ‘There’s so much to tell you.’
‘And not all of it good.’
‘That depends on how you look at it.’
Tuon put an arm around her shoulder and squinted through the misty rain at Tallis. ‘I’m just grateful your brother was able to bring you back,’ she said. ‘And that you have one.’ Her tone filled with wonder as they drew closer and she was able to see him more clearly. ‘He looks just like you, Shaan, only … maybe a bit better looking.’ She squeezed her arm and Shaan almost smiled.
‘Thanks,’ she said dryly, and Tuon tucked Shaan’s arm through her own.
‘Just my professional opinion, of course,’ she said, but the smile barely reached her eyes and Shaan saw her gaze wander again to Rorc.
While they waited for the supplies, Shaan introduced Tuon to Tallis and her mother, Irissa and Nilah, then they found a spot away from the others to talk. Shaan tried to find a way to tell her friend about how it had been when Azoth had taken her, what she had come back to and her part in leaving the city.
Tuon took it surprisingly well when she recounted her connection with Tallis and his power, her own strange urge to heal — although the way she had killed the man in the palace, that darkness that had come out of her, she couldn’t speak of. It was too new, too much like what Azoth could do, and she was afraid to see the look in Tuon’s eye that she had seen in Nilah’s and Aran’s: wariness, distance. So she told her only of what she had done for the man in the Sisters’ temple, and the fiery energy that had come, and then she came to Rorc and Mailun. She fumbled over the words, knowing Tuon’s feelings for Rorc and how strange it would be for her having just met Mailun, and what she might think.
Tuon paled, leaning back against the rough bark of a tree.
‘I like your mother, she seems … strong,’ she finally said. ‘But it’s hard to picture Rorc as anyone’s father.’
‘I know.’ Shaan’s heart ached for her.
‘My closest friend, his daughter. And now his old love, your mother, here as well. Odd how things happen.’ Her smile was brittle. ‘How is it between them? How is he?’
‘I don’t know. I’ve not seen them speak; they keep their distance.’
‘Aah.’ Tuon nodded. ‘The ties of a love interrupted.’
‘I don’t know if it’s like that,’ Shaan said quickly. ‘It was a long time ago and Mailun seems angry at him. I don’t think —’
‘It doesn’t matter. I told you I gave up hoping years ago. But what of you and Balkis? You didn’t say but I heard the tone of your voice, Shaan. Have you bedded him? And don’t bother lying because I can see it in your eyes.’
Shaan gave her a rueful look. ‘You’re changing the subject.’
‘I know, but please let me.’ The flare of sadness in Tuon’s eye was bright.
‘All right, Balkis.’ She shrugged. ‘I don’t know really what there is between us, but yes, I bedded him — although not in a bed.’
Tuon smiled. ‘I bet my purse he was good,’ she said. ‘Certainly he’s had the practice. But when will you see him again?’
‘I don’t know; when we bring the Clans with us from the desert to Hunters Scarp.’
Tuon leaned forward to touch the stone around her neck. ‘Did he give you that pendant?’
‘Yes.’ Shaan picked it up, running a finger over the smooth surface.
‘Then you shouldn’t worry about what’s between you. A man doesn’t give a woman something like that on a whim — even Balkis with all his trader’s son coin. You’ll see him again.’
But when? Shaan felt the hollow fear come back again, gripping her in its claws, telling her that it would be far longer than a mere journey before she would see him again.
***
The supplies were delivered and before the sun reached midday the Faithful had them divided and fastened down on the backs of the eight serpents carrying them away. In all there were fifteen people, so every serpent carried two except for one which took a lone Seducer.
It had stopped raining and weak rays of sunshine were penetrating the cloud, making their damp clothes steam. Shaan had been assigned to ride Asrith with Nilah while Tuon sat behind one of the Hunters on another Isles serpent. Shaan was surprised how quickly the feel of the serpent beneath her became familiar, her hide rough and warm under Shaan’s hand. Asrith turned and blew out a short, hot breath.
We travel a long road, Arak-si, she said. Her mind voice was different from Nuathin’s, steadier but, Shaan sensed, perhaps not quite as old.
A long way to the Clans, you mean? Shaan replied. Asrith blew out again, some knowledge in her eye that Shaan couldn’t decipher.
‘How long will we be riding the serpents?’ Nilah climbed up to sit behind her, disrupting her thoughts.
‘Only two days for you,’ Shaan said. ‘We’ll leave you and the others near the Goran Ranges. I thought someone already told you?’
‘If you can call what Rorc said telling.’ Nilah’s word
s were terse.
Shaan could imagine how his manner had been.
‘I heard he’s your father,’ Nilah said, and Shaan tensed.
‘Where did you hear that?’
‘That clanswoman, Irissa — is that her name?’
Shaan looked at Irissa standing stiffly behind Attar, waiting to climb onto Haraka’s back.
‘I don’t think she much likes your brother,’ Nilah continued. ‘Or maybe she likes him too much.’
Shaan frowned. ‘Whatever you think, keep it to yourself.’ Irissa was staring at the serpent as if she wanted to run a spear through it. Why had she told Nilah? Perhaps she thought she already knew.
‘Don’t worry,’ Nilah said. ‘I know what it’s like to have everyone know more about you than you’d like. I won’t say anything.’ She paused. ‘At least now you know who your father is, at least he’s alive, even if he is … well … Mine died when I was four, but he was just a consort anyway. One of Mother’s many.’
Nilah’s tone was bitter and Shaan was surprised when the young woman let out a hoarse laugh. ‘She’d never have thought things could come to this,’ Nilah said. ‘She’d be furious to see what Lorgon has done, that fat old slug.’ She poked Shaan gently in the back with her finger. ‘I’m not going to let him get away with it. If Rorc thinks I’m going to just sit around in some forgotten place in the mountains and wait for him to rescue everybody, he can think again.’
Shaan twisted around to look at her. ‘What are you going to do?’
