Srolan's eyes flashed to Ki in confusion. Ki glared at them both. Memories burst in her mind like fresh wounds. She suddenly perceived the whole tapestry Dresh had woven. Wizards and Windsingers were creatures cut of the same fabric, stuffed with the same vile weeds! 'It is true, Srolan,' Ki said. 'I have never yet been able to trust the honor of a wizard's word. Yet my mind cannot stoop to the depths of their deceit, cannot roll in the same gutter to follow their devious plans. Was this your little amusement, Dresh, to arrange this play for us? How well you wrote the parts, and how finely you assigned them! It has been better than any Temple Ebb pageant these folk have ever seen. It matters little to you that the tragedy doesn't end with the falling of a curtain. Nor do you see fit to pay your actors. From the first, we have all danced to your tune, but Vandien and I have trod it best of all.'
'Does it end with a soliloquy?' Dresh asked drily.
'It does,' Ki snarled. Her glance swept the room. Fisherfolk gaped like stranded carp. Ki saw no empathy, no regrets. She and Dresh were a-spectacle to them, a last treat of Temple Ebb, the unexpected entertainment. Srolan alone had sustained a loss among them. She had aged in these last few moments. When she croaked out, 'Dresh, please!' even the music was gone from her voice.
'My friends,' Ki said slowly. 'My first idea was the best. Let's roll our skeel out of here. Janie, run to fetch Sasha. The Romni know the truth of it: There's always another buyer, down the road apiece.'
Ki stepped up and put her shoulder to the skeel. Dresh stood up so suddenly he nearly overturned the table.
'Hold!' he cried as he strode toward her. He shouldered Berni out of the way like a transfixed sheep. Boldly he put a hand on the opposite side of the skeel. Ki felt the resistance. 'Hold up, teamster. Take your skeel, please. But not the Windsingers' chest, for it does not belong to you.'
'And you would claim it as yours, wizard?' Vandien's words were politely questioning. But in his eyes there was a threat, and in his stance and face a promise. Dresh's eyes met his. Dresh didn't flinch, but Ki saw a sudden revising of opinion. For the first time she realized how much of a size the two men were. Dresh would have been the handsomer of the two, even if Vandien had not been scarred. But there was a slinkiness to his beauty that put people on their guards, and a coldness to his eyes that ruined his face more than any scar. If Vandien were the hawk, Dresh was the intricately patterned poisonous snake. He was coiled to strike.
'Vandien!' Ki whispered, cautioning. But Vandien was beyond caution. Dresh had twisted the man's hopes, until they had broken off short. He smiled, and Ki's belly curled up at the sight. 'There are customs, wizard. Salvaged goods belong to the one who brings them up. Me.'
'You are mistaken, teamster,' Dresh said smoothly. He glanced about at the village folk, warming them with his smile, including them in this debate. 'It was the village that knew of the chest. It was the village that set you after it.' Dresh paused to fit a wedge. 'Srolan does deserve their thanks for hiring you. Perhaps I could help the village make her a reward.' Fanatic hope kindled again in Srolan's eyes. Dresh smiled at his success. 'The chest belongs to the village, I think. If I hired a teamster to bring my goods from here to there, and the teamster is late, does that mean the teamster may keep the goods? I think not.' Again his smile swept the room, but he let it rest over long on Ki.
'That is so,' Helti agreed cautiously, and here and there heads nodded hesitantly. Even Srolan looked at Vandien with her heart in her eyes and begged, 'Leave it here for me. It is my final chance.'
'The chest cannot be taken from the village!' Dresh decreed. 'It belongs to the village! If they had not told you of it, you would never have recovered it. Who told you where to look, and what to look for? The village folk alone knew that. On that basis, it must belong to them.'
'To me, then!' Janie's voice began as a shriek and ended in a whisper. Dresh's eyes snapped to her face in shock. 'By your own reasoning, wizard! It is mine! I alone knew where it was, I alone knew what to look for! And I helped bring it up! Mine, wizard, and you will kill me before you touch it!'
There was no rationality in Janie's eyes. She advanced fearlessly on Dresh, and he retreated. In madness there is power and Janie wielded it. Her hands settled on the chest's corner, a priestess blessing relics.
'Janie. Now, Janie, calm yourself. Listen to me...'
'Shut up!' Janie screamed savagely, and Srolan fell silent before her wrath.
Srolan turned anxious eyes on Vandien. 'Do something,' she pleaded. 'Make her see reason.'
'Do what?' Vandien demanded. 'It seems to me that Janie is correct. I've no wish to take the chest from her.'
'It's mine!' Janie asserted again. She glared at Dresh who had ventured forward a step.
'I've no wish to kill you,' Dresh said reasonably.
'Then don't,' Vandien growled.
'She leaves me no other course!' the wizard flared. His fingers waggled in agitation until he clenched them into fists.
Vandien grinned. 'Be ready with the team, Ki. Janie, shall we load it?'
But the eyes she turned on him didn't know him. 'It's mine!' she warned him.
'She's broken,' Ki said in a hushed voice. 'They've finally broken her.'
'It is mine' she screamed in an inhuman voice.
She was echoed by an inhuman roaring. Cold swept through the inn borne on a wind that snatched their breaths and snuffed not only candles but the fire on the hearth. The fear-stricken cries of the fisherfolk were drowned in its immense vibration. It was a blinding, numbing wind that paralyzed all Ki's senses. A heavy wooden table skidding across the floor struck her on the hip. She found herself on hands and knees in cold darkness. Other people blundered blindly around her. A foot trod heavily on her hand and a knee struck her in the ribs. She scrambled away in the confusion, but could find no safety. The roaring wind ceased, but the darkness remained. Confused cries filled the room.
'Vandien!' Ki cried out. An answering shout came from across the room. In darkness she blundered toward him, only to trip on an overturned bench.
'It is mine!' shrieked a voice scarcely recognizable as Janie's.
'It is mine,' responded another voice. The resonance of that voice nullified all other sounds. There were a few more scufflings, then silence. Ki brushed the hair from her eyes and rose silently. In the darkness, yellow flame blossomed. Two slender well-formed hands cupped it. They transplanted the fire to a candle on one of the few tables that remained standing. The tall figure straightened. The flame on the candle struggled and tugged at the wick, trying to illuminate the darkness. A hushed expectancy grew. Then another yellow flame bloomed within those tapered fingers. The inn gasped as the fingers snapped it away. The ball of fire arched through the air, to land on the hearth and burst into a roaring blaze. 'Make light from that,' the voice commanded, and those few who had found candles crept forward to kindle them.
The inn was a shambles. Tables and benches were overturned. Broken crockery grated underfoot, while the sour smell of spilled ale mingled with the fishy odor of slopped chowder. As Ki's eyes adjusted to the semidarkness, she saw folk huddled like frightened sheep. Their eyes darted about furtively, seeking someone to blame. A hand squeezed Ki's shoulder and Vandien stood beside her. 'Look at Janie!' he whispered.
The other villagers had retreated from the skeel. Of Dresh there was no sign. Janie alone stood protectively by the wad of animals. One hand rested possessively on the chest as she glared at the one who sought to take her treasure. Defiance and despair had driven out caution. Her shoulders were squared as she defied the blue-robed Windsinger.
'Rebeke,' Ki breathed in dread, and Vandien replied, 'I thought so.'
Rebeke ignored them. The dancing firelight struck a sheen from her finely scaled face. Her hands were innocent of weapons as they hung peacefully at her sides. She needed no threats; her face radiated her power. She scanned the room once, eyes fingering a moment on Ki. But she found no opposition. Folk turned their eyes away, or crouched with bowed heads. Even
Srolan winced away like a kicked cur. Slowly Rebeke turned her gaze back to Janie. She did not break the silence, and no one else dared. Long she stared at the womanchild with eyes that reached and touched and probed. A little of the tension went out of Janie's stance, but still she repeated, 'It is mine.'
Rebeke smiled as a mother might smile on her curious child. 'Yes. I can see that. But it is also mine.'
'No!' The defiant shout shook the room and trembled on the air. Villagers cowered, expecting retribution. Rebeke waited until the echoes had ceased. No trace of anger marred the serenity of her browless face.
'Killian spoke of you. For you must be Janie.'
Janie hesitated, then tossed a grudging nod.
'Do you believe I will take the chest from you?' Rebeke asked her.
Janie's eyes flickered over the assembled villagers. She found no support. Her eyes locked with Vandien's, but she looked hastily away. He had offered her the only taste of friendship she'd had. She wouldn't draw him into this.
'She...' Vandien began.
'Silence!' Rebeke said calmly. Rebeke made no gesture, but Ki felt the impact as Vandien reeled against her from the unseen blow. No other saw it.
'You say the chest is yours,' Janie said as Rebeke continued to gaze at her questioningly.
'And yours. I said it was yours as well. Having said that, do you think I will take it from you? I have come for the chest,' Rebeke spoke to the villagers now. 'But I have also come for Janie and Sasha. Run and fetch your sister, Janie.'
'By the Hawk!' Vandien swore, but his voice rose no louder than a croaked whisper. Janie stared at Rebeke and did not move.
'Didn't you hear me, Janie?' Rebeke repeated, smiling more gently. 'I've come to take you and Sasha away. You don't belong here. Any fool can see that, and I am far from being a fool. Your own spirit knows it. The chest called to you because of it. And only one of your spirit and determination could have dragged it up. Because you are a Windsinger, Janie. You were never born to drag up smelly fish from cold water, to bend your back to the wind as you sliced the wet meat from their bones. You were born to find power and wield it. You were never meant to be part of this village. It is beneath you. You knew it from the time you were a small child. And the village knew it as well. Am I right?'
Janie's eyes were riveted to Rebeke's smiling face. She teetered on the edge, for Rebeke called to her hungry heart. The only one who might have wished to call her back was voiceless.
'Why hesitate? What holds you here, sister?'
The simple kinship offered overbalanced the scales. 'I must fetch Sasha,' Janie began hesitantly.
'Didn't I just say so?' Rebeke's laughter was warm as a summer wind. 'Hurry, for we have far to go this night. Take no time to pack, just bring the child. All else we have prepared for you.'
'Prepared...' Janie's voice trailed off in awe. The implied welcome warmed her cheeks. Life flowed in her eyes, bringing animation into her face. 'You will wait for me?' she asked fearfully.
'Hurry!' Rebeke chided her with a smile. Ki looked at Janie's glowing face. She was the peasant child in the tale, who finds herself the true daughter of a queen. A smile bowed her mouth as she looked down on them crouching in the dark before her mentor. Her eyes paused on Collie, but the silence that had prevented him from mocking her now prevented him from asking her to stay. 'Hurry!' Rebeke warned her again, and Janie broke free of Collie's eyes with a laugh.
'Janie! Go with us, and be Human!' Vandien croaked. The slamming door answered him.
Rebeke turned rebuking eyes on him. She considered him, and how he and Ki stood together, apart from the villagers. 'I did not think to find you here, Ki,' she remarked. 'But the Romni are renowned as a thickheaded folk. Perhaps that means that when you learn to respect Windsingers, you will learn it in such a way that you will never forget it.' Her cold eyes appraised Vandien. Ki shuddered. Then Rebeke smiled. 'You stand as friends stand. That man would defy me, would take from me not only the chest, but Janie as well. Does he know that you owe me, Ki? Didn't Killian hint to him that you traveled under my shadow, and only by my tolerance? But as he runs with Romni, perhaps he is as stubborn as one. I chose to let her live, Vandien. Murder is distasteful to me, but I had other options. Still, I chose to let her return to you. By that choosing, some would say I betrayed my own interests. I don't think so. But I angered some that could be mollified by this chest. I could use the chest as justification for letting Ki live. However... some other Windmistresses might see it as negligence on my part if Ki went on living and we had nothing to show for it. They might even try to remedy that.'
'Vandien does not share my debts!' Ki cried out in anger. 'Ask of me what you will for my life, but don't...'
'You have nothing I want.' Rebeke stated it flatly. And he is not really in a position to bargain. As I have said, murder is distasteful to me. Vandien may either say, We made a trade, the Windsinger and I, or he may resist me when I take the chest, and die.'
Vandien gave a harsh laugh that drew all eyes to him. 'Take it!' he croaked. 'Take it and be welcome to it. As the village will not pay me for it, why shouldn't you have it? But not as barter for Ki's life; neither of us would want to live under that burden. Consider it this way; I return the chest to the original owners, as would any honest man.'
'Asking no reward?' Rebeke marveled drily.
Vandien afforded her a courteous nod.
'Then I shall remove your team from my property.'
Rebeke circled the tangle of skeel slowly, frowning as she examined them. To the villagers she paid no more attention than she would to a flock of curious birds. After her third circuit of the skeel, she stepped back from them, massaging her narrow hands. She stared for a moment, then flicked her fingers at the chest. A cracking sparked momentarily from her fingertips. Instantly the chest glowed, moving through a dull red to blinding white in the space of two heartbeats, and as quickly fading back to its dull black. The skeel didn't even twitch.
'I don't like to be harsh,' Rebeke muttered in consternation. She folded her hands together and extended them in front of her. Her thumbs were stiffened, pointing straight at the chest. The crackling lasted longer, and three times the chest pulsed white. Rebeke lowered her hands and stared wordlessly at the motionless skeel still entwined around the chest. She gave Vandien an apologetic glance and began to raise her hands again. But the skeel began to loosen. Like melted wax they slid bonelessly down, to puddle around the chest. The blinking of a wide eye showed they were still alive, but they lay in postures skeel had never assumed before. One whiplike tongue flicked lazily out and leisurely slid back in. Yet they looked not stunned, but satiated.
Ki's eyes moved up the black chest. With heart squeezing shock, she saw the widening cracks in it. Even Rebeke's hands were clutched tightly in front of her breast. Her finely scaled lips were pinched shut. One villager cried aloud and many turned aside their faces. But Ki could not resist the awful temptation of knowing what so much had been risked for. Slowly the black pieces fell away from one another, like a flower shedding its petals.
The thing within was white, a dead white without shine or shading. It stood no taller than Sasha, but it creaked of age. And Evil, Ki thought to herself, but no, not evil, but a wisdom so far beyond Human reach that it could not seem good. Its high knobbed forehead domed above a scaled face that was noseless and lipless. Its mouth stretched as far as the hinge of its jaw. The thin sexless body crouched with its knees drawn up to its ribby chest. Folded arms rested atop the knees, almost Human, but owning too many joints, and most of them bending the wrong way. Its eyes were open, round and white. An indescribable flowing, neither bone nor hair, cascaded whitely down its back.
'What is it?' Helti demanded sickly.
Ki knew, with a jolt of recognition.
'It's a Windsinger!' shrieked Dresh. He leaped up from his crouch by a table near the door. Pushing back his hood, he let a cube of brown chalk drop from his hand. 'And the thrice-damned thing is mine!'
/> 'Dresh!' Rebeke mouthed the words, but no sound came. She did not move. A brownish glow came from the earthrune carefully chalked on the floor. Dread rose in Ki as she knew that Rebeke could not move, had fallen to Dresh's power. Ki remembered how he had bent her will. Sickness rose in her as she imagined how he would twist Rebeke. Ki had been but a casual entertainment for him. The spurs of retaliation would goad him on with Rebeke. Always Ki had dreaded and despised Windsingers. Those feelings weren't gone. She feared Rebeke and shuddered at how Janie had been seduced away from her own Humanity. But sympathy squirmed within her, overturning old loyalties. Vandien shot her a questioning look as she eased away from him. Her sideways movement was lost in the stir of folk edging forward in fascination to stare at the revealed image.
'Look at it!' Dresh gloated. He stepped past Rebeke to put greedy hands on it. Rebeke cringed as if his questing fingers violated her personally. 'You see what hasn't been seen on this world for so many generations that it is now a legend; a true Windsinger. This is not some transformed Human or T'cheria or Dene, but a Windsinger hatched and grown. Not a statue of one! This is what they did with their dead, folding them neatly and tucking them away in chests. No temple, that building, but a mausoleum unbelievably old.'
The village folk dangled on his words, mesmerized by what he said. Ki slipped slowly through the crowd.
Dresh smiled at his audience. 'See how she flinches at my words! This is what the Windsingers wouldn't have you know; that they are shams, chameleons who have taken the shapes and powers of an older race. Control of the winds was never given to them; they seized it! And how? By a process as gruesome and twisted as themselves. This body can be ground to a powder, and ingested through nostril and mouth. Then the changes begin. Imagine the small girls, stolen from their homes, who are fed a secret measure of this filth with their food. Once the transmutation has begun, there is no stopping it. The children never have a choice!'
No tears flowed on Rebeke's face, but it was twisted in agony. Her eyes denied what Dresh was saying, but her lips were silent: Dresh smiled at her pain.
The Windsingers Page 28
