Arkady stared at her father, speechless with shock as they laid him on the floor. She was a little surprised to find she wasn't distressed so much as angry — angry beyond belief at her father's selfish arrogance.
Bary Morel's brilliant solution to how to save his daughter was to remove himself from the equation.
It would have made a twisted sort of sense to her father, she supposed, even though it was a gesture of such utter futility that Arkady wanted to kill her father herself for even contemplating the notion, let alone attempting to carry it out.
'What's all the commotion about?' Jaxyn demanded from the doorway, arriving on the heels of another couple of felines who had come to investigate the guards' cries for help. The Tide Lord walked across
to where Bary Morel was lying on the floor and studied him for a moment. 'Tides. The old fool tried to kill himself.'
'Ever the sharp observer,' Arkady said caustically. Her father was barely breathing. 'Why would he do that?' 'To save me from you.'
Jaxyn looked at her oddly. 'Where's the sense in that? If he wanted to save you from me, he'd have been better served killing you.'
'If you're planning to share that pearl of wisdom with him,' Arkady said, looking down at her father's lifeless body, 'perhaps you might take the time to heal him first?'
Jaxyn hesitated for a moment, staring down at her father's unconscious form, and then he smiled. 'Beg me to do it.'
'All right, I'm begging you,' she said emotionlessly. Inside she wanted to scream at him. Her father didn't have time for Jaxyn to play these stupid games.
'No, I mean I want you to actually beg me. On your knees.'
Arkady stared at him for a moment and then did as he asked. She fell to her knees and lowered her eyes. 'Please, my lord. Will you save my father?'
He smiled. 'Tides, you actually hesitated then, didn't you?'
Fortunately, she didn't have to answer him. Jaxyn must have realised how little time there was before her father was beyond the intervention of even a Tide Lord. Before she could respond or be asked to beg him again, he knelt beside her father and placed a hand over his bruised neck. Bary Morel convulsed with pain, even though he was out cold, but Arkady was relieved to see his skin tone visibly improving a moment later. Then he took a deep shuddering breath and his posture relaxed a little as he began to breathe normally.
Arkady tried not to look too anxious or relieved, aware of what a narrow escape this had been.
'Thank you,' she said, still on her knees, as Jaxyn rose to his feet.
'You may not think it was such a good deed once you've thought this through, Arkady,' he said. 'I mean, the old fool wants to kill himself and you just stopped him from doing it.'
'I know you didn't have to save him.'
The Tide Lord smiled. 'Yes, I did. You see, now you're going to have to explain it to him. You're going to have to explain how it is that he's alive. How it is that now I can truly use him to torment you. You can tell him all the ways I can cause you pain by making him suffer. And how he's going to be suffering, Arkady, because when he was on the cusp of death, you begged me to save his life.'
Jaxyn spared her father another glance as he began to moan softly at the Tide Lord's feet, then he turned and strode from the room. Still on her knees, Arkady crawled across the rug to her father, pulling his head onto her lap, wondering if Jaxyn and her father were right. Maybe she should have let him die.
But Arkady had lost her father once already. She wasn't ready to lose him again so soon. Tears streaming silently down her face, she held her father close, filled with a sense of such helplessness that it almost overwhelmed her.
CHAPTER 13
'What happened here?'
The scene that confronted the Tide Lords when they reached Blackbourn just on dark was one of almost utter devastation. Flattened trees littered the landscape and the ground was drenched, small puddles filling every low-lying surface. It was hard to tell how far the damage extended, but everywhere they looked, the jetsam and flotsam of a devastating tidal wave lay about them, reaching far inland — certainly as far as they could see in the darkness.
They'd landed on the beach just south of where the town should have been. By Declan's estimation, they had travelled almost 2000 nautical miles in just over three days. His head was pounding, his skin felt as if it was covered in fire ants. Kentravyon had taken over guiding them several hours earlier. He brought them in to land with consummate skill, the rug settling gently on the wave-ravaged beach with barely a flutter as he let the Tide go.
'We happened,' Cayal said, as he stepped off the rug.
It was almost completely dark, an early full moon already on the horizon. They were just out of sight of the fishing village that should have been located further along the beach. Given the look of this place, Declan wasn't hopeful they'd find much of anything at all. Or anybody.
'What do you mean — we happened?'
'Tide's up,' Kentravyon said, peering into the darkness. A steep cliff loomed over the small cove,
reaching up into a night that was silent and dead. Under normal circumstances, it would have been filled with the chattering of a million cicadas and other creatures of the twilight. There was nothing. Everything here was dead or had fled the rising water.
'This is the remains of a tidal wave,' Declan said, squatting down to pick up what looked like the broken leg off a child's wooden doll. There was no sign of any people, no bodies, nothing. Had they all been washed out to sea? How many people had lived here? 'Nothing magical did this.'
'Not directly,' Kentravyon agreed. 'But the Tide, in its own way, is an element like any other. You mess with one it affects all the others.'
'You mean us riding the Tide caused this?'
'It's hard to say for certain, but it's likely, given there haven't been any undersea quakes in the past few days,' Cayal said, walking a little way up the beach toward the tree line which was now a series of broken- off stumps.
Moonlight filtering through the clouds lit the darkened beach, making the spectre even more depressing. Adding to his woes, Declan's skin itched like he was allergic to air, and he was finding it hard to stand still. 'I thought you said this wouldn't happen? You said that's why we had to ride the magic carpet, because to ride the water itself was too dangerous.'
'Actually, nobody said it wouldn't happen. We just said riding a tidal wave in the direction of a populated area wasn't a good idea.' Kentravyon looked around curiously. 'It was probably you, Declan. You splash around in the Tide like a child playing in the shallows at the seaside and with about as much finesse. Still, we all have to learn, I suppose.'
Muttering to himself and shaking his hands as if to rid them of pins and needles, Kentravyon wandered off into the darkness, leaving Declan overcome by guilt —and trembling like a drunkard who couldn't recall
when he'd had his last drink. He tried to ignore the shaking. Tides, how many people died here because I'm in a hurry to get back to Glaeba?
Appearing much calmer than Declan felt, Cayal turned inland, studying the devastated terrain. 'Look,' he said after a moment. 'Up there.'
Declan turned to look in the direction Cayal was pointing. On the cliff top behind them, there was a light. It seemed to be waving back and forth like a signal. 'The survivors must have taken shelter on higher ground.'
'They're signalling us.'
Cayal nodded and started out toward the cliff. 'If anybody asks, we're off a boat moored out in the Bight.'
'Will they care?' Declan asked, hurrying to catch up to him.
'This is — was — a small village,' Kentravyon said, falling in beside Cayal and Declan as they picked their way across the saturated sand and debris toward the cliff. 'People in places like this are suspicious of strangers.'
That seemed a fair call, but there were other, more practical things to deal with before they started worrying about their cover story. 'We're going to help them?'
'I have money.'
'These people have lost their
homes and their livelihoods,' Declan said. 'They'll need food and shelter and probably fresh water. Money isn't going to help.'
'What do you want us to do, then?' Cayal asked impatiently. 'Go up there and announce we're the Tide Lords of ancient legend, come to aid them in their hour of need?'
'You know, Declan, that might be just the thing,' Kentravyon said, looking over his shoulder at them — entirely too pleased at the prospect.
Declan glanced at Cayal, wondering what he was thinking. It was hard to tell. There was a look in Cayal's eyes that said he was suffering just as much from the effect of too much exposure to the Tide as Declan. Kentravyon seemed quite calm, but that wasn't actually very reassuring.
'Do you speak Stevanian?'
'Not really. A few words, maybe.'
Cayal nodded and turned to Kentravyon. 'If we help them, their gratitude should be ... substantial.'
'Gratitude?' Declan asked. He stared at Cayal for a moment and then shook his head in disgust when he realised what the Immortal Prince had in mind. 'You're going to offer them help in return for what — sexual favours?'
'You're the one who thinks they won't be interested in money.'
Declan wished he had a response that didn't sound quite so hypocritical. Cayal was right: they had stopped here because the Tide was consuming them and they needed to relieve the tension. That a tidal wave had devastated the village before they arrived —- and had possibly been caused by them into the bargain — hadn't altered their basic and urgent need.
It just felt so wrong.
Kentravyon could obviously see what was bothering Declan and was completely dismissive of it. He shrugged and stopped for a moment, looking up at the cliff tops behind the hinterland.
'Do whatever you want. I'm going to visit the temple.'
'Do they have a temple here?' Cayal asked.
'I told them to build one the last time I was here. It should have been high enough to escape the waves.'
Declan glanced worriedly at Cayal before he answered Kentravyon, wondering if the madman realised that the last time he'd been here was probably several thousand years ago. 'There's been a couple of
Cataclysms since then, you know. I wouldn't get too fixed on the idea that they remember you.'
Kentravyon glared at him. 'I am God. Of course they will remember me.'
'You do whatever you want, Kentie, my old friend.' Cayal grabbed Declan's arm and pulled him away from Kentravyon, pushing him in the direction of the cliff and whoever was signalling them. 'The Rodent and I are going to do good deeds and save the day, and hopefully ourselves. See you in the morning. And remember, gods are a lot easier to venerate if they're easing their worshippers' pain, not contributing to it.'
'Hang on —' Declan began, not liking the idea of leaving Kentravyon to his own devices, but Cayal gave him no chance to say anything further. He put himself between Declan and Kentravyon and shoved him, none too gently, further along the beach.
Declan pulled free of Cayal and turned to face him. 'Tides, Cayal, aren't you going to stop him?'
'Why should I stop him?'
'We've done enough damage here. If he goes up there and they haven't built a temple to him ...'
'He'll be peeved. That doesn't make him homicidal. He'll probably start preaching to anybody who'll listen, truth be told, which — I will grant you — is a cruel fate indeed, but hardly a problem. Leave him be.'
'Lukys told us to stop him doing anything stupid.'
'And if he starts doing anything stupid, we will. In the meantime, we let it go. Kentravyon, the Tide ... all of it.'
Declan stared back over Cayal's shoulder, certain no good could come of letting Kentravyon out of their sight. He felt out of sorts, uneasy, but he couldn't tell if his premonition of impending doom was real, or a consequence of riding the Tide for so long.
He watched Kentravyon's retreating figure, wondering how a man could command so much power and yet feel so helpless, all at the same time.
He turned to Cayal. 'I need a drink.'
'You know, Rodent,' Cayal said, shouldering his pack and turning for the village, 'this may be the first time in living history you and I are in total agreement.'
CHAPTER 14
The survivors had gathered on the cliff top, a motley bunch of some two hundred men, women and children, sitting around in small groups, all wearing the blank-eyed stare of people too overwhelmed to know what had happened to them. The arrival of strangers had an odd effect. As Cayal and Declan reached the top of the escarpment, some of the people turned from them, fearing they were simply more survivors wanting to share what little they'd managed to salvage from the deluge. Others, particularly the children, clustered around the strangers, asking for help. At least Declan assumed that's what they were asking. Even if he didn't speak the language, he could see the pleading in their eyes.
And then a woman approached them, perhaps the grandmother of some of the younger children. She shooed the children away and said something in a rapid stream of words Declan didn't understand. He guessed she was asking for something, because she pointed to the children. Even in a language he didn't know, there was no mistaking the desperate look in her eye or her pleading tone of voice.
'What's she asking?'
'For water, I think,' Cayal said. 'My Stevanian isn't what it used to be.'
'Are these all the survivors?'
Cayal asked the woman the question in her own language and then shook his head. 'She said the wounded have been taken to the temple.'
'It's still here, then,' Declan said, relieved to hear the news. The last thing they needed was Kentravyon getting snippy because his temple had been washed away. 'Can we help them?'
'How, exactly?' Cayal asked.
Declan looked around in the darkness at the clustered survivors. Other than a few torches offering flickering illumination, there were no fires. He supposed that meant any firewood they'd been able to find — assuming they'd even thought to collect any — was too wet to burn.
'We could try drying out some firewood for them, couldn't we? Organise fresh water?'
'From where?' Cayal asked, looking a little dubious. 'Their wells are probably filled with sea water.'
'Can't we get rid of the salt?'
Cayal stared at him for a moment, his expression thoughtful. 'Using the Tide? I suppose we could, now you mention it.'
Declan couldn't believe how relieved he was to hear it. The burden of guilt that came with the realisation he may have caused this disaster was proving quite a bit more than he'd bargained for. 'How do we do it?'
'We won't be doing anything of the kind,' Cayal said, shaking his head. 'Desalinating water takes a level of finesse you can't even imagine yet.' Without waiting for Declan to respond, he turned and spoke to the older woman for a moment, who nodded with relief and then beckoned another young woman forward. Cayal turned back to Declan. 'She's sending her granddaughter with you to find some dry wood. She doesn't know who we are, just that we've offered to help, so try not to be too obvious about it.'
'Why didn't you tell them you're a Tide Lord?'
'Because for one thing, they probably wouldn't believe me, and for another, we don't have time. So go and just pretend you're really good at collecting dry
wood. I'll see what I can do about their well, and then we can get some rest ... and maybe,' he added, eyeing off the pretty, albeit blank-eyed, young woman who had come forward to help Declan with the firewood, '... score a little bit a gratitude, too. Either way, by morning we'll be gone, with a bit of luck, and these poor sods will be none the wiser.'
Declan took a step forward. 'We should check on the wounded in the temple, too. We could heal them.'
Cayal stopped him from taking another step by grabbing his arm. 'Steady on there, Rodent. Kentravyon's already on his way to them. Leave him be. You'll spoil his fun.'
Cayal had a point. And Declan needed to do something, he'd been standing still for far too long. He turned to the girl, whose ey
es were dull with shock and grief. 'Ask her what her name is.'
Cayal questioned the young woman in Stevanian and then turned to Declan after she answered him. 'She says it's Gasandra.'
'Tell her we're here to help.'
'I already did. Go fetch the firewood, Rodent. I'll fix the well, and if it doesn't take too long, I may even see what I can do about food.'
Declan wasn't sure he believed Cayal's apparent willingness to aid these people, but there wasn't much he could do about it now. If he started questioning Cayal's motives, the immortal might decide not to help out of sheer perversity, so Declan turned to Gasandra and pointed inland. The girl nodded and turned to lead the way, leaving Declan with the uneasy feeling that this was all too easy; the willingness of Cayal and Kentravyon to aid the survivors of a tidal wave they'd probably caused was completely out of character for both of them.
CHAPTER 15
The next few hours passed in a blur for Cayal. They'd stopped here in Blackbourn to rest from the incessant drain of the Tide, only to have the Rodent insist they help the survivors of the tidal wave they'd almost certainly caused. Even his immortal regenerative ability strained to cope with the demands he was making on his stamina. Cayal remembered when he used to behave as Hawkes was now; when guilt was the only emotion he truly understood, and he was driven by little more than the need to assuage it.
The Rodent still hadn't figured out who he was or what he could do. So he was clinging to what he did know, trying to convince himself as much as the others that he still retained his humanity.
Good luck with that, Cayal thought.
Helping others to help himself. Poor sod didn't realise yet that even now, he was turning into what he most despised. He was already helping others in order to help himself. Such was the selfishness of all immortals.
By dawn, Cayal had desalinated the two wells that had supplied the village before its destruction by the rising water. It was a simple matter really. Tide magic was elemental and separating salt from water was a relatively uncomplicated task.
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