Drakis gazed down at the dwarf and shook his head. “When we get to these God’s Wall Peaks you keep talking about, then we’ll find out whether I choose my fate or it chooses me. There is only one way to be absolutely sure.”
“Indeed?” the dwarf asked.
“Yes. . the same way one can be absolutely sure as to whether a dwarf floats or not.”
CHAPTER 47
One Among Us
Mala watched Cape Caldron fall astern as the Cydron sailed northwest from the anchorage, her eyes never leaving the coast until it vanished at last below the horizon under a brightening morning sky.
As the sun crossed the tops of the masts, shore again was sighted to the east, this time the Westwall Cliffs rising through the haze on the eastern horizon. This, Urulani informed Drakis, was the farthest western end of Nordesia. Their conversation was somewhat disjointed, however, as Jugar was constantly interrupting with some prattle about the giants that lived in the Westwall Cliffs and who occasionally waded out into the ocean to capture and play with boats that passed too close to the shore. Urulani scoffed at the “child’s tale” as she stood at the tiller, but Drakis quietly noted to himself that she nevertheless kept the ship far from those shores.
It was perhaps two hours later that Urulani pushed the tiller over slightly and the ship’s bow responded, changing their course perpendicular to the falling sun. They were heading truly north now. The Straits of Erebus lay far to the east-that body of water that separated the Lyranian and Drakosian continents. Their course, however, would take them directly north across the eastern expanse of the Charos Ocean as that was the course the song in Drakis’ head seemed to dictate to him.
There was nothing now between them and the sirens that called to Drakis but the open sea.
Drakis stood on the afterdeck of the Cydron, his hand on the tiller as he watched the bow and, more importantly, the stars beyond.
From where he stood he could see the length of the middeck below him. The oars-sweeps, he corrected himself-were pulled in and stored beneath the galley benches. The night had been a clear one and remarkably warm with the trade wind blowing from the southeast off of Nordesia. Urulani had instructed the crew to strike the canvas that they had spread days earlier like a tent over the middeck. There was a lower deck to the Cydron where the crew could bunk among the stores-and where poor Belag had elected to spend most of the voyage, miserable in his seasickness-but tonight most of the crew elected to sleep on the deck beneath the gentle breeze and the great dome of the star-filled night sky. He could see them as shadowy figures on either side of the elevated decking that ran the length of the ship between the port and starboard ranks of galley benches and around the masts, ending at the forecastle deck at the bow.
Come to the shores of the sorrowful. .
Come to the Northerly Lands. .
Come on the ocean. .
Come with devotion. .
Drakis was fancying himself something of a corsair. There was something about the water, its freedom, and the motion of the ship beneath his feet that called to him like the song that still ran through his head. The seas were relatively calm this night and the breezes generally favorable as they made their way northward. Urulani had instructed him on how to man the tiller and steer a course directly north by keeping the bow directed toward a particular place about which all the heavens overhead revolved. She kept a critical eye on him for some time and then, at last satisfied that he would not be a danger to the ship or her crew, she sat with her back against the aft bulwark, folded her arms, and drifted off to sleep.
One is the Guardian of our hope. .
One is the poison we drink. .
Pity the last one. .
Keep the course true on. .
Since leaving the Westwall Cliffs five days before, everyone aboard had settled into a comfortable routine and, being in such confined quarters, got to know to each other quickly. Ganja, the ship’s master, was next in command on board, a tall and powerfully built man of Sondau who kept his tightly curled hair cut close to his scalp. Drakis knew that the man was deeply distrustful of both him and his companions, but he also sensed that he was unswervingly devoted to his captain. He often would take a watch at the tiller-as did Kendai and Dakran, the two sailing loremasters aboard. Then there were the eight men on each side who manned the oars whenever Urulani found the wind not to her perfect liking and tended to other duties aboard when the sails were full. Yithri, Kwarae, Gantau, Djono the Giant, Zinbar, Lukrasae, whom all the rest kidded about his diminutive height and whom Jugar had taken to defending-Drakis was coming to know them all as they worked shoulder to shoulder on the ship.
He looked down at Mala, who lay on a bedroll he had prepared for her, curled tightly under a blanket, her back turned against the breeze. Her hair had completely covered the tattoo atop her head that had branded her-and branded Drakis and so many of his companions-as slaves to the House of Timuran. Now her auburn hair fluttered slightly in the night breeze, and he realized how beautiful it had become to him-more beautiful with each passing wave of the ocean below.
Nightmares and dreams are for dark of night. .
Sometimes we sleep while awake. .
Tears for our sorrow. .
Weep for the morrow. .
Perhaps, he reflected, that was what he liked about the corsair ship-that here on the open waters he was far from the cares of the Rhonas or the fear of being brought into bondage. He had tasted the free air of the sea and felt the ship beneath his feet go wherever his mind willed his hands to take her. This was what a man was meant to be. . to master his fate, to be his own. .
Drakis froze.
A tall, robed figure stood silhouetted at the bow. Its face was in darkness, but its form was all too familiar to him.
And the magical Matei staff, its headpiece glowing a painful blue, was unmistakable.
“ALARM!” Drakis screamed, letting go of the tiller at once and charging down the central decking as he reached for his sword. “ALARM! ALARM! ALARM!”
He could hear the crew around him struggling up from the depths of their sleep. The deck beneath his feet rocked with the motion of the Sondau warriors clambering to get their feet under them. Their shouts grew, and the sound of their weapons being gathered filled the air.
“Hold, Drakis of Timuran!” the figure shouted at him, as the glowing head of the staff shifted.
Drakis realized there were two figures on the forecastle.
The Lyric! The lithe woman stood quivering in front of the Iblisi, her back turned toward him and his left hand on her throat. The blue glow of the Matei staff cast shadows across her frightened face.
Drakis came to a stuttering halt, his feet sliding awkwardly across the planking. The Sondau warriors hesitated as well, looking aft toward their captain. Drakis glanced back as well and saw Urulani, now standing silently on the afterdeck with Mala at her side.
“Well you should pause to consider, corsair,” the Iblisi called down the length of the ship. “One poor decision on my part could tear this ship from stem to stern-and I know that it is too far from land to swim, even for the much-storied Sondau.”
Jugar struggled up from belowdecks, his ax in hand. “Where’s the fight?”
“That’s what we’re about to find out,” Drakis said quietly.
Urulani stood so still that Drakis could not tell if she were breathing. “What do you want?”
“What I have always wanted,” the Iblisi snapped, his voice cracking. “What I have crossed continents and oceans to achieve. What has caused death and destruction everywhere in its wake. I want to speak with the slave Drakis!”
Urulani raised her hand. The Sondau drew back slightly. “You’ve come a long way to speak with a slave, friend. Who are you?”
Mala quickly made her way down the central deck to where Drakis stood. He tried to reassure her with a thin smile as she came to his side.
“Come far? I have come too far,” the Iblisi stated in contemptuous to
nes. “And my name is Soen. . just Soen.”
“What do you want. . Soen?”
“You, Drakis,” Soen replied from the folds of his hood. “You and your bolters have eluded me far better than any have before, I will grant you that, but I have found you at last.”
“Found us? You didn’t find us at all!” Jugar shouted. “You were led to us, you lying bastard elf! You would never have discovered us without traitorous assistance.”
“There is no shame in accepting help. . especially if the help is so very willing.” The Iblisi said casually as he released the Lyric, letting her fall with a heavy sound to the deck at his feet. “I’ll admit that I was nearly lost when you left Nothree without me. . until I discovered this.”
Soen reached his right arm inside his cloak and pulled out what appeared to be a small ball of mud about the size of a pea. “It is a beacon stone, a magical object that calls me to it, dropped by one of your closest companions along the way so that I would not be left behind on your journey. This particular one was the most useful to me. . because to my surprise I found it at Cape Caldron. That’s what led me to you here. . and the end of your run, bolters. It’s time to come home.”
Drakis gripped his sword and glanced around him. Miles from shore and only the boat beneath their feet.
“Peace, friend,” Soen said in even tones.
“Peace is not what I have in mind,” Drakis said, his breath coming quicker.
“Peace, friend,” Soen repeated.
“What?” Drakis did not understand what the elf meant.
Next to him, Mala took her arms from around his waist, and started walking toward the Iblisi.
“Mala! No, stand back!” Drakis cried.
“Please?” Mala said in a quivering voice. “Please, take me? Please take me home?”
The Lyric looked up in astonishment at Mala from where she lay on the forecastle.
“Mala!” Drakis called, tears blurring his vision. “No! Come here!”
“Please take me home?” Mala’s voice grew stronger with every step, her hands reaching out toward Soen. “I’ve done everything you asked. I’ve gone with them and followed them and been with them. . I’ve eaten with them, slept with them, smiled at them. . I’ve done all that the demons have spoken from the dark dreams. I looked for you, longed for you to come.”
“NO!” Drakis screamed as he rushed forward, grabbing Mala by the arm. “You can’t! Everything we have together! Everything that we were. .”
“Pretend!” Mala shrieked, tearing her arm away from him. “You said it was pretend. . and the demons said it, too! They said you lied and made me remember, and as long as I remember, they’ll tear at me in the night. But I won’t let them!”
She turned and ran forward, throwing herself at the elven Inquisitor’s feet. “You won’t let them! You’ll take me back home and free me from the demons just like before! You’ll send them back to the forgotten places! I did everything they said I should do, and now you’ve come for me! You’ve come to take me back!”
Soen gazed down at her with his black, lifeless eyes.
“You promised!” Mala screamed. “I gave them to you! I dropped the stones just as the demons said I should! I slowed them down! I was clever!”
Soen looked up at Drakis. The human had fallen to his knees on the deck, quaking in his agony.
Mala turned, too. “You promised to keep me away from him most of all! The demons are nothing next to his pain! He loved me! He hurt me! I want him! I hate him!” Her voice dropped to a whimper. “Please take me home! I cannot live with what he feels. I cannot live with what I feel. I want to never know that pain again. I want to forget.”
She began to sob. “Please take me home. .”
“Mala,” Soen said in a soft, warm voice. “You have, indeed, done everything that you were meant to do. I am sorry. . but the demons must stay with you.”
Mala looked up into the Inquisitor’s face, her shoulders shaking as she spoke. “But. . Master. . you’ve come for me! You. . you’ve come to take me home!”
“No, Mala,” Soen replied, “I cannot do that.”
“Why?”
“Because, I am not the Inquisitor whom you serve,” the elf replied. “I am not Soen.”
The robes began to shift as the Matei staff fell heavily to the deck. The black elven eyes contorted, and the flesh around them shifted. The robes collapsus into smoother forms. Two arms became four as the expressionless and all too familiar face looked up.
“I am sorry, Drakis,” Ethis said from the forecastle, where Mala lay quivering at his feet. “There was no other way.”
CHAPTER 48
Chimera
“Ethis!” Jugar sputtered. “You! I have seen a number of feats of legerdemain in my time, but how is it that you have thus magically appeared on this ship?”
“In a moment, friend Jugar,” Ethis said looking toward the afterdeck. “Captain Urulani, may I suggest that a few of your crew take charge of this human woman. I believe she is now beyond doing us any further harm, but her actions, I believe, warrant some prudent caution.”
Urulani broke from her astonishment and nodded. “I agree. Zinbar and Gantau. . go forward and take charge of her. Bind the woman hand and foot, but I don’t think a gag is necessary. Make her comfortable, but I want her secure.”
“Aye, Captain!” they responded and moved forward, Zinbar picking up a coil of rope stowed next to the main mast.
Urulani raised an eyebrow as she spoke to the chimerian, “Anything else?”
Ethis bowed slightly, “It’s your ship, Captain.”
“And I’d like to see that it remains my ship,” the captain replied. “Is there anything else you would like to tell me?”
“Only that my name is Ethis, that I am-as you plainly see-a chimerian shapeshifter, and that I serve you aboard this ship.”
“That’s all?”
“Oh, and that you’ll find that there is no longer a seasick manticore in your hold.”
“Which is because?” Urulani urged.
“Because. . because I was that seasick manticore.”
“Ah-ha!” the dwarf crowed. “That’s how you got aboard!”
“And how I’ve been aboard since we made our hasty retreat from Nothree,” Ethis replied taking a step down the deck then turning back to the dwarf. “Oh, here is something I need to return to you.”
The chimerian reached into folds in his flesh that had been smoothed over moments before and pulled out a shining, black-faceted stone.
The dwarf’s eyes went wide as his hands instinctively patted down his waistcoat and discovered it empty. “The Heart of Aer! How did you. .?”
“I am a creature of many talents,” the chimerian replied. “Besides, I could hardly have a real wizard conjuring up spells against a fake one, could I?”
The dwarf frowned, holding out his open palm.
Ethis shrugged and set the stone carefully in Jugar’s hand.
“I am just a poor fool of a dwarf, but it occurs to me that the shapeshifting talents of the common chimerian do not include the ability to mimic clothing and even hair down to a degree of complexity that would pass even a cursory examination.” Jugar’s eyes narrowed, but there remained a brightness to them as he spoke. “Such capabilities are rare, indeed, and often put to rather specialized use in behalf of the chimerian state interests. Such dangerous creatures have been rumored to be abroad in the land. You wouldn’t happen to be one of them, would you now, Ethis?”
“And are you, friend Jugar, no more than a common dwarven fool?” The chimerian’s face remained as blank and inscrutable as ever, but he leaned forward as he continued. “Just as a pure matter of speculation, it would be an interesting contest, though from what I have heard of such beings, it would be better not to know them. You, of all creatures, should recognize the advantage of anonymity. However, should any such creatures be made known to me. . I should be glad to direct you to them.”
The dwarf, for once, he
ld his silence.
Drakis was vaguely aware of Ethis as the chimerian turned and stepped carefully over to where he remained kneeling. His head hung down, his chin nearly resting on his chest. His mouth hung slackly open and his eyes were closed. Drakis was still aware that he held his sword loosely in his hand, his shoulders rising and falling with his quick breaths. But the rest of the world seemed so far away. . and the sounds so muffled.
Ethis knelt down in front of the human. “Drakis.”
He continued to breathe raggedly, the sound of his breath roaring in his ears. Ethis was saying something to him.
“Drakis, I’m sorry,” Ethis continued. “It was the only way I could have convinced you.”
The human opened his eyes slowly, his head still hung down to his chest.
“You would not have believed me,” Ethis continued. “You haven’t really trusted me since that day we awoke in House Timuran. Your suspicions were only strengthened in the Faery Kingdom. You thought I had betrayed you there, but in truth it was the only way to save you. . to save us all. The Iblisi were closing in on us. Murialis was our only chance, but I had to prove to her that all of us were who we claimed to be. She trusted me to find that out.”
“You did,” Drakis said, his voice rough from deep in his throat. His words sounded disconnected, as though he were talking through a dream.
“Yes,” Ethis continued. Drakis could feel himself being drawn out through the chimerian’s words, being coaxed to come back to the realm of consciousness and pain. “We had met many years before when. . well, it doesn’t matter when. . and I knew that she could help you.”
Drakis’ eyes shifted upward and peered at Ethis from under his brows. “So. . you were only helping me.”
“Yes, Drakis,” Ethis urged. “I had suspected Mala ever since my interrogations in the Faery Kingdom, but it was not until the dwarf discovered the beacon stones on the savanna that I knew with certainty. The Iblisi were closing in on us. I had to act. .”
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