[Age of the Five 02] - Last of the Wilds

by Trudi Canavan

  :Give over your will, Huan commanded.

  Mirar was staring at her. Different expressions crossed his face: first horror, then fear, then resignation.

  :I must do as she says, she told herself. I must.

  It would be so easy to just give over the responsibility for Mirar’s death to the goddess. It wouldn’t matter that killing him was…was…

  Unjust. Unfair. He had done things she did not approve of, but nothing deserving of death. Circlians did not execute people without good cause—at least not the law-abiding ones. There were alternative punishments for minor crimes. Imprisonment. Exile.

  :Obey me, Auraya.

  She put her hands to her face and groaned.

  :I can’t. This goes against the laws that you laid down, and that you gave us the responsibility to uphold and refine. Killing without just cause is murder. I can’t kill Mirar. I can’t allow him to be murdered.

  She waited for Huan’s reply, but none came.

  “Auraya?”

  Taking her hands from her face, she looked at the man standing before her. Whether Leiard or Mirar, he had brought her more trouble than anything else in the world. She wanted him gone. “Go,” she found herself saying. “Leave Northern Ithania before I change my mind—and never come back.”

  :Auraya! Huan’s voice boomed. Do not defy me!

  As Mirar hurried away, his boots splashing in the stream, she felt her knees weaken. She sank to the ground, feeling ill and desolate and yet also a bitter and disturbing satisfaction.

  If I just made the right just choice, then why do I feel so bad? She shook her head. Because I just disobeyed one of the gods and for a moment there I was proud of it.

  And Huan can’t have failed to notice.

  38

  The Drayli family had so much luggage with them that Emerahl suspected they’d brought every possession they owned apart from their home. They had been dismayed to learn they would have to sell or throw away at least half of it.

  “My boat is small,” she had reminded them. “Not only will there be no room for you if we pack all this in, she’ll probably lie so low in the water that the slightest wave will flood the boat, and you’ll lose everything. Can you swim? I hadn’t thought to ask until now.”

  Shalina had turned white, which told Emerahl her question had had the desired effect.

  “They are only things,” Tarsheni said quietly to his wife. “Possessions. We can’t let mere objects get in the way of our search for the true deity.”

  The sorting out of their belongings had taken a frustratingly long time, then Emerahl had to accompany the family to the market to watch over the selling of them. Their friendly innocence and generosity made up for their expectation that she would help them in all matters. When the afternoon grew old, Tarsheni had insisted he pay for a meal and a room for her at the boarding house. They did not want to search for the tunnel in the dark, concerned that their children would be frightened.

  Now, as she watched them climb tentatively into her boat, she found herself worrying how they would cope with a sea journey. She sensed determination and excitement from both adults and curiosity from their son. The baby was blissfully unaware of the adventure his family was undertaking. They gazed at the other water craft as Emerahl guided her boat out of the docks.

  Leaning forward, she gave Shalina a small bottle.

  “What is this?” the woman asked.

  “It is for seasickness,” Emerahl told her. “Take one capful each and a third for the boy. Give the babe a drop mixed with some water and let me know if she starts to redden.”

  “I don’t feel sick at all,” Tarsheni said. “I don’t think I’ll need it.”

  “You will when we get out into the waves. The cure takes some time to work and isn’t as effective after you get sick, so best take it now.”

  They did as she said. Once free of the docks, Emerahl directed the boat in line with the Isthmus. The boy began asking his parents a flood of questions about sea-related matters. Emerahl resisted smiling at some of their answers.

  “How are you moving us?” Tarsheni said suddenly. “The sail is down and you’re not rowing.”

  “Magic,” Emerahl told him.

  His eyebrows rose. “A useful Gift for a sailor.”

  She laughed. “Yes. One tends to learn and practice what is useful to one’s trade. Do you have any Gifts?”

  He shrugged. “A few. I am a scribe, as all my ancestors were. We pass down Gifts used for preparing parchment and ink, sharpening tools, and to defend ourselves.”

  “Defend yourself?”

  “Sometimes the letters we deliver are not well-received, even if we did not dictate them.”

  Emerahl chuckled. “Yes, I imagine that would happen occasionally.”

  “I hope to write down the words of the wise man of Karienne.”

  “You seem to know a lot about him already,” she said. His quiet enthusiasm had impressed many at the boarding house the previous night. Emerahl had almost expected to find a string of boats following her to the tunnel today.

  “Only what I have been told by others who have listened to him,” he admitted. “Sometimes what is said is contradictory. If his words are written down, none can alter his meaning.”

  “In theory. Others might alter your work later.”

  He sighed and nodded. “That is possible. If there were a Gift I could use to prevent it, I would dedicate my life to learning it.”

  “You said last night that this god created the world, the gods, all creatures and every person. If it created humans, and they are capable of cruelty and murder, then it must either have intended that to be so, or made a mistake.”

  Tarsheni grimaced. “That is a question I wish to pose to this wise man.”

  “If it wasn’t a mistake, I don’t think I’d like this…Is that the tunnel, do you think?”

  Emerahl felt the boat shift slightly as the family turned to follow her gaze. She had seen a fold in the steep side of the Isthmus ahead. As they drew closer she noted a path running down to the gap.

  “It looks like it,” Tarsheni answered.

  “Yes,” Emerahl agreed. “No—don’t bring that into sight yet,” she added as he drew out his purse. “Let’s see what we find here first.”

  He looked anxiously toward the tunnel. “Do you think it is a trap?”

  “Just being cautious.”

  The fold deepened, and as they reached it they could see lamps hanging from the walls on both sides of a tunnel and a half-circle of light at the other end. The walls were supported by brickwork, which looked like it had been recently repaired at the entrance. In what Emerahl guessed was the center, a large metal gate filled the gap. The path became a ledge that ran along one side of the tunnel.

  She could see figures ahead and sense interest as they noticed her boat entering. Her skin pricked as their interest changed to greed and anticipation.

  “How did you find out about this tunnel, Tarsheni?”

  “A man told us about it. He said he could sail us north in exchange for the fee to get through the tunnel.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “We didn’t like the look of him.”

  “Hmm. It seems to me that this tunnel ought to be busier or there’d be no profit in making and manning it.”

  “Perhaps it is too early in the day.”

  “Hmm.”

  She considered who might use the tunnel. Fishermen could find it useful, but the tunnel was too small for any craft except little boats like hers. Only travellers like herself, alone or with a few others, would seek out the tunnel.

  “What else did he say about the tunnel?”

  Tarsheni shrugged. “That there used to be many tunnels through the Isthmus, most carved by smugglers, but people began to worry that they’d collapse and the Isthmus would be washed away by the sea. They had them filled in.”

  Emerahl thought of the repairs to the brickwork around the entrance. Had this tunnel been blocked, then r
ecently reopened?

  “Did he say if anyone objected to this tunnel being reopened?”

  “No,” Tarsheni replied. He paused. “It’s not likely to collapse, is it?”

  Emerahl looked at the arched ceiling. “It looks solid enough.”

  As they neared the gate, Emerahl saw four men standing on the ledge. Their expressions reflected the avarice that spilled from their minds. Drawing a little magic, Emerahl created a defensive shield around the boat. She guided the vessel to a stop before the gate then met the eyes of each of the four men in turn.

  “Greetings, gatekeepers. My passengers and I wish to buy passage.”

  A large man with missing teeth hooked his hands in his belt and grinned at her.

  “Gree’ings, lady. Thi’ your boat?”

  “Yes.”

  “No’ of’n we ged women sailors.”

  The other men moved forward, peering down at the family and their belongings. One started to step off the ledge down into her boat. The man’s knee rammed against her barrier. He cursed in pain and stumbled backward.

  “I don’t allow anyone onto my boat uninvited,” Emerahl said, turning to regard the toothless man again.

  He narrowed his eyes. “You be’er invi’e us, den, or you won’ be going frough.”

  “You don’t need to come aboard,” she told him firmly.

  The toothless man puffed out his chest. “So you go’ Gifs. Ameri here has doo.” He gestured to one of the men, a thin, sour-faced young man. She nodded to him with feigned politeness and turned back to the toothless man.

  “How about you reduce the fee to ten canar and I leave the gate standing?”

  She realized she was hoping for a refusal. They probably did this to travellers all the time. While she couldn’t put a stop to it completely without delaying her journey, it would be satisfying to ruin their little scheme—for a while at least.

  The man’s eyes narrowed. “Ameri,” he said, without taking his eyes from Emerahl. “Make dem coopera’e.”

  The thin man extended a hand toward her and made a dramatic and ridiculous-looking gesture. Magic splattered off her shield. He was stronger than the average man or woman and his attack would have hurt or even killed most travellers. She glared at him, no longer amused by the situation.

  When he stopped she blasted him and his companions with a force that slammed them against the wall and held them there. She turned to the gate and sent a wave of heat out. Soon it began to glow and warp. As bits of molten metal fell into the water, hot steam filled the tunnel. Her shield protected her boat, but the men began to scream. Releasing them, she let them flee back down the tunnel.

  As the last of the gate sank into the water, Emerahl moved the boat forward, taking care not to bump it against the glowing walls of the tunnel. Only when it had emerged from the other end did she relax and turn to regard her passengers.

  They were staring at her in amazement.

  She shrugged. “I told you: my Gifts are not inconsiderable. And I don’t have much sympathy for thieves.”

  Auraya moved from sling bed to sling bed, examining the Siyee yet again. Two of the sick were fighting Hearteater effectively, the other two were struggling. She did not want to use Mirar’s healing Gift on them until she was sure they wouldn’t defeat the disease by themselves.

  I’m calling it “Mirar’s healing Gift” now, she thought. Not Leiard’s. I suppose Mirar has been using it for hundreds, even thousands, of years. It is his more than Leiard’s.

  Tyve watched her, his thoughts full of curiosity and worry. She could not make herself stop moving. She could only pace from bower to bower, trying to find a distraction to stop her thinking about what she had done.

  I disobeyed Huan. I disobeyed the gods I’m sworn to serve.

  The alternative had been to kill a man who did not deserve it. That should not matter. I should trust the gods have reason to want him dead. Juran did, long ago.

  Instead of reassuring her, that thought only brought her more discomfort. I can’t believe Juran tried to kill Mirar without being sure it was justified. Though she knew it was his duty to do as the gods wished, she found she thought less of him for doing so. I wonder if he knows what has happened…

  One of the Siyee woke and asked for water. Tyve did not stir as she rushed to take a bowl to the woman. As she held it to the woman’s lips a terrible feeling of dread welled up in her and she froze.

  A familiar presence was moving toward her. Auraya let out a gasp of relief as she recognized Chaia.

  :Auraya, he said.

  :Chaia!

  :I can see I don’t need to tell you that you’re in trouble, he said. His words were spoken lightly, but she sensed a deeper concern.

  :No, she said.

  A hand touched hers. She looked up, startled, to find Tyve taking the bowl away from her. He waved her away from the patient. Auraya moved toward the bower entrance.

  :Why did I do it? she asked Chaia. Or why didn’t I do it?

  :You have a conscience, he told her. You need to know your actions are justified. To you, being just and right is more important than obedience. It is a part of your nature I like. Unfortunately my view is not shared by the others.

  :By all of the others, or just Huan?

  :We vary in our opinions, but are united in our decisions, Auraya. It is not for you to know our individual views.

  She stepped outside. The sunlight was too bright. She headed for the shade.

  :You and the other gods must have known it was part of my nature. Why did you choose me to be a White?

  :Because the White cannot all be the same. You each have strengths and weaknesses. When you work together your weaknesses are lessened and your strengths enhanced. Your own weakness—your compassion—is your strength. A leader who can kill without question is unlikely to have the empathy and compassion needed to negotiate mutually beneficial alliances and help other people resolve their differences.

  :Then why did Huan choose me for this task?

  :I’m afraid you are the wrong White in the wrong place at the wrong time. You should not be the one executing Mirar—and not just because you were once in love with a part of him.

  Auraya felt a spark of hope.

  :Am I forgiven, then?

  :Not quite, Chaia replied. Some of us believe that the White must be obedient, no matter what is in their nature. If the White have different natures, then they are bound to disagree at times. When conflict happens they must look to us for a resolution. They must obey us, or their unity will be broken.

  Auraya felt her stomach sink.

  :Huan still wants me to murder Mirar.

  :Execute, not murder.

  As her hopes were smothered she was surprised to find anger stirring.

  :And if I refuse again? she found herself asking.

  :You will be punished. To what degree I cannot guess. It took me some time to persuade the others to give you a second chance. I also insisted that you be given a day to reflect on the task and the consequences of refusing or obeying. While you do, consider this: sometimes we face a problem where all solutions are unpleasant, where the least damaging option must be chosen. Consider which choice is the least damaging to the people you are sworn to protect.

  :Mirar has no intention of acting against us.

  :No? He may not now, but that does not mean he won’t try in the future. He is powerful and clever—you know that. He hates us—you know that too. Can you gamble that if the opportunity comes to cause trouble, he won’t take it?

  Auraya shook her head.

  :Consider what might happen if he decides to reclaim his role as leader of the Dreamweavers, he urged. He can influence and direct them from another land through dreams.

  Her stomach sank. Even exile wasn’t a plausible alternative.

  :And consider the possibility that you may still love Leiard.

  :I don’t, she told him.

  :No? I know your heart, Auraya. I know there is still attraction and aff
ection there, confused and unresolved. He will keep you bound to him if he can, not just because he is still enchanted by you but because you will not harm him while you are unsure of your feelings. You will not be free to love again until those bonds are gone.

  Auraya wrapped her arms around herself. She felt ill. Wretched. Torn.

  :I cannot console you, Auraya, though I wish I could, Chaia said sorrowfully. I cannot be affectionate, or fend off your nightmares, lest the others think I am rewarding you for your disobedience. They agreed that I should speak to you, as you know me better. I ask as your friend and lover, do as Huan bids.

  He moved away. For a long time she sat alone, thinking about all that he had said, then she rose and returned to the bowers. She needed to think, but the Siyee needed her help more.

  39

  Mirar drew magic and warmed the air around him. During the months he had treated the Siyee he had barely noticed the turning of the seasons, too caught up in his work. Now he felt the chill of winter in the air, especially in these last hours before dawn. He leaned back against a tree and closed his eyes.

  Though he had travelled all day and most of the night, this stop wasn’t for rest or sleep. Clearing his mind, he sent himself into a dream trance.

  :Emerahl?

  They had communicated through dream links every few days since she had left. Recently she had grown secretive about her location or destination. He hoped that meant she’d had some success finding other immortals, but couldn’t yet tell him about it.

  :Mirar? she replied.

  :How is my travelling friend?

  :Much the same as before. Lots of sailing, more sailing, and a little sailing on top.

  :Bored, are we?

  :No. I have some interesting paying passengers. You?

  :Life just got a lot more interesting, he told her. The gods know who I am.

  :What! How?

  :I taught Auraya how to heal. The gods must have been watching.

  :You idiot.

  :Yes. Disappointed in me?

  She was silent for a moment.