I crawled into the water. The cold cut right through me, made all my bones rattle. Silt drifted up around my bare legs. I closed my eyes, concentrated hard as I could.
"River," I said. My voice ran up and down the walls of the canyon. It became a million voices at once. "River, I ask to speak with you."
Those were the words Mama had told me a long time ago. And I waited, but the water just kept pushing past my waist, tugging on my dress.
Then I remembered. Mama casting gifts into the ocean. I had to give a gift.
The camel had run off with my money, so all I had left that belonged to me was the protection charm Naji made me and the knife I used to save his life. I threw the knife into the water. Mama always said the water knows the true value of things. And this was a trade, one way of saving his life for another.
I said my request again, louder this time, filling my voice with meaning and purpose, with pain and sorrow. If I let Naji die, my voice said, not in words but in tone, I as good as killed him.
The way I killed Tarrin of the Hariri.
This time, the babble of the river fell quiet. The river kept moving, swirling past me, but I couldn't hear nothing. And I knew I had permission to ask my request.
"Naji's dying," I said. "I need to know how I can fix him." I thought about it for a few seconds and then I added, "If there's anything in the river that can help him, please. I would appreciate it." Mama always told me to be polite when you're dealing with the spirits.
A heaviness descended over the canyon, a stillness that made me feel like the last human in the whole world. Then the river began to rise, inching up above my waist to my chest, flooding over the bed, washing over Naji, then under him, buoying him up. From somewhere in the darkness, the horse whinnied.
Then, quick as it flooded, the river retreated to normal.
River nettle. The name came to me like I'd known it all along, even though there ain't no way I'd ever heard it before. I splashed toward the shore, slipping over the stones to get to the riverbed. Naji gasped and wheezed, droplets of water sparkling on his skin. I walked past him, stumbling out into the grasses, feeling around in the dark for something that grew low to the ground, in places where the river flooded during that time of heavy run-off from the mountains. It would be covered in stiff, spiny leaves, like a thistle–
My hand closed around a thick stem, and my palm burned like it had been bitten by ants. This was it.
I yanked the nettle out of the ground, flinging clods of damp dirt across the front of my dress. Then I stumbled back over to Naji, who was panting there in the mud. The sound wrapped guilt around my heart and squeezed so hard it hurt.
"Hold on," I whispered to Naji, smoothing his hair back away from his face, wiping off the water that dripped into his eyes. "I got something to help you."
He gasped and shuddered and I knew he was dying and I knew I had to do this fast.
I used Naji's knife to cut his robes away from the wound. It wasn't like any wound I ever saw – it wasn't a cut or a burn, but a hole about the size of a fist in the center of his chest, like a well, a place of darkness and sorrow going all the way down to the center of the earth. I stared at it for a few seconds, and it seemed to get bigger and bigger, big enough to swallow me whole.
And that part of me that knew what to do, that knowledge that came from the river, told me the wound was hypnotizing me, that it wasn't no hole at all, and I had to concentrate.
I closed my eyes and shook my head and that dizzy feeling went away. When I opened my eyes again I made sure not to look directly at Naji's chest.
I stripped the leaves off the stem, going partially by moonlight and mostly by feel. I didn't fumble or hesitate – it was like I'd known how to do this all along. Then I stuck the leaves in my mouth and chewed on 'em till they got soft and mushy. They tasted like river water, steely and clean, and I spat 'em out in the palm of my hand and pressed the mush to Naji's chest. For a few seconds I was sure that my hand would plunge into the darkness, that I'd fall through that hole and wake up surrounded by evil.
Naji's chest felt all wrong, spongy and decayed and hotter even than if he had a fever, but it was there, it wasn't no doorway to someplace else. I spread the river nettle over the wound. As I worked, I sang in a language I didn't know; the words sounded like the babble of water over stones, like rainfall pattering across the surface of a pond, like rapids rushing through a canyon.
When I finished, all that knowledge evaporated out of my head. I fell backward on the mud and looked up at the stars. They blurred in and out of focus. I wanted to stay up, to watch over Naji to make sure the magic held fast, but I couldn't. I was so exhausted I slipped over into sleep, where I dreamed of water.
CHAPTER NINE
The sun woke me up the next day. It was as hot out there by the water as it had been in the desert, and when I sat up my skin hurt. Face, neck, legs: anything that hadn't been covered up was burned. At least the air felt clean. No threat of magic-sickness.
Naji was gone.
That got me to my feet fast, sunburn or not. There were a few faint footprints headed in the direction of the river. The water threw off flashes of white sunlight, nearly blinding me. But Naji was there, floating out in the middle of the river without no clothes.
Now, I ain't normally a prude about things like that – most pirates are men so it wasn't nothing I hadn't seen before. And I'd had an encounter behind a saloon on a pirates' island in the west, with this boy Taj who sailed aboard the Uloi. But because this was Naji, my whole face flushed hot beneath the sunburn and I looked down at my feet. I wanted to go hide in the grasses until he came out and got dressed, but I was worried about him too, so I called out, "You alright?" without looking up.
"You're awake," he called back, which didn't answer my question. I heard him splashing around in the water, and I kept my eyes trained down until he padded up to me barefoot, at which point I had no choice but to look at him.
He'd tied his robes around his waist. His whole chest was covered in the same snaky tattoos as his arms. And though the wound had healed up as an angry red circle over his heart, he was still pale and weak-looking. I didn't think he should have been out there swimming, but I didn't say nothing.
"Are you going to have a scar?" I asked. He didn't answer right away and I realized I'd forgotten about his face. "Um, I mean–"
"Yes, it'll scar." Naji looked down at his chest, ran his fingers over the red, crumpled-up flesh. "I thought you couldn't do magic."
He said it like he was accusing me of something, and I flailed around a bit, trying to find the words. "I asked the river. My mama taught me, or tried to teach me. With the sea. And it worked. It ain't never worked before, but it worked this time."
"Oh, of course. I should have known. A pirate – you'd have an affinity with water." He stopped and squinted up at the lip of the canyon, like maybe he was expecting to see somebody. The Hariri clan maybe.
"You saved my life again," he said, still looking up.
"Yeah, hopefully I didn't just double the curse." The irony of me saving his life a second time hadn't been lost on me. I had killed Tarrin only to make a deal with the water to save Naji. The thought made my stomach twist around.
"I doubt it works that way."
"Well, if it does, then I'm sorry."
He dropped his gaze and looked at me real hard, which made me shiver. "No," he said. "Don't apologize. I didn't mean–" He took a deep breath. "Thank you."
I got a dizzy spell then, and I thought it was because he'd thanked me, even though I knew how silly that was. But Naji caught me by the arm and said, "The magic exhausted you. We'll rest here a day before we go on. You should eat."
"What about you?" I said. "You were halfway to death last night, and you ain't looking too great this morning neither." My vision swam, the river turning into a swarm of light. The insects chittered out in the grasses, so loud it hurt.
"You're right," Naji said. He guided me down to the riverbed
. It was nice to sit down. My head cleared. Naji sat down beside me. "We both need to rest." He paused. "I only suggested that because I'm used to this kind of healing. I do it constantly. You, on the other hand…" His eyes kind of lit up like he was going to smile, but he didn't. "That was some very powerful magic you performed last night."
"It was the river, not me."
"No, it wasn't."
I didn't say anything, cause I didn't know what he was getting at and I didn't want to ask.
We spent the rest of the day lying out by the river. I caught some fish by stabbing at them with Naji's knife – it was a lot easier than it shoulda been, I guess cause I was still in the river's favor. Naji got a fire going and cooked the fish on a couple of smooth, flat stones, and that fish tasted better than anything I'd eaten for the past two weeks. I got to feeling a lot better after that, but it seemed to wear Naji out, and he curled up in the grasses and slept.
I took that as an opportunity to strip down and bathe, scrubbing at my unburned skin with a small handful of pebbles. I rinsed out my dress – hardly more than rags now – and laid it out in the sun to dry. And cause Naji was still sleeping, I laid myself out in the sun to dry, too.
Kaol, that felt good, like all my muscles needed was the strength of the sun. I stretched my hands out over my head and listened to the bugs and the river and Naji snoring over in the grasses.
Every now and then, I thought about Tarrin of the Hariri, bleeding to death on the sand, and it gave me a tightness in my chest that hurt like a flesh wound. I know guilt won't get you nowhere if you're living a pirate's life, but it snuck up on me anyway, no matter how much I reminded myself that he would've killed me first. At least with the Hariri crewmen I didn't know for sure if they died or not – that's usually how it is in battle, all that chaos swirling around you. But Tarrin stuck with me, and it wasn't just cause I knew the Hariri clan would have to take their revenge.
We set off the next morning. The horse was gone – it had wandered away in the night, off to join the camel in the desert. I didn't mind walking, but Naji was still too pale, and he moved slower than normal, shuffling along over the riverbed like an old man.
"It's only a few days' walk from here," he said.
"What is?" I looked at him sideways. "Don't you dare say a canyon."
He didn't answer at first, and I thought about laying in to him for never telling me anything, but then he said, "Leila."
"Who the hell is that?"
"Someone who can cure me."
"Oh. Right." I stopped and put my hands on my hips. Kaol, why couldn't we have met up with this Leila lady before the Hariri clan tracked us down? I didn't know how much it would've changed things. Tarrin still wouldn't have listened to me. But maybe I wouldn't have killed him, neither. Maybe I could have agreed to go with him and then found some other way out of marriage.
"What's wrong?" Naji turned toward me. He had his robes on normal again, but they gaped open at the chest from where I'd cut them, and he kept tugging them over the wound. "I thought you'd be happy to know we've almost arrived at our destination."
"Happy enough," I muttered.
Naji frowned. "Tell me. It could prove important–"
"Why should I tell you anything? Not like you haven't kept me in the dark since that night I saved your life – biggest mistake I ever made." I started walking more quickly, and I could hear Naji's footsteps catching up with me.
"Ananna–" he began.
"You really want to know?" Anger pulsed through my body, heating up my skin. Anger at Naji, at myself, and Tarrin for not standing up to his father. "I killed him. I killed Tarrin. He was a captain's son. I know that don't mean nothing to you–"
Naji didn't move.
"But a captain's son is special, cause he carries on the ship name. Ain't nothing to hire an assassin to kill a captain's daughter, but a son…" I hadn't let myself think about any of this yesterday, and now it was flooding over me like a tsunami. The Hariris would want revenge on me for sure. If they were willing to send an assassin just cause I spurned their son I didn't even want to think about what they'd do now that I'd killed him.
I wished my brain would just shut down the way it had yesterday afternoon.
"I do know what it means," Naji said quietly. "To kill a captain's son. I've worked with the Confederation before."
And then he put a hand on my shoulder, which surprised me into silence. I stared at the ridges of his knuckles, at the spiderweb of knife scars etching across his skin. His touch was warm.
"Leila is a river witch," he said. "I believe she can help lift my curse."
"Yeah, figured that out ages ago." I scowled down at the riverbed.
"Even when the curse is lifted," he went on. "I'll arrange for your protection."
His hand dropped away. The place where he'd touched me felt empty.
"Thank you," I muttered, looking down at my feet, my cheeks hot.
"Come," Naji said. "Once we get to Leila's everything will be fine. You'll see."
Yeah, I thought. For you.
But I walked along the riverbank same as before.
We followed the river for three days, and it was a lot easier than trekking through the desert, even without the camel. There was plenty of water and fresh fish to eat, and a lot more to look at. Little blue flowers grew along the riverbed, all mixed up with the grasses and the river nettle that I'd used to save Naji's life a second time, and the walls of the canyon grew taller and steeper the more we walked, until it seemed like the desert was another world away. And those walls were something themselves, stripes of golden-sun yellow and rust-red and off-white. Like the wood on the inside of a fancy sailing ship.
We had to stop quite a bit, though, so Naji could rest. His health didn't seem to improve. He stayed pale despite all the sun, and he'd stumble over the rocks sometimes, and I'd have to steady him. He slept longer than me and hardly ate much of anything. It was worrisome, cause I'd no way of helping him out if he got any sicker. There was no way the river would give me another cure, not without an offering – which I didn't have.
On the third day, we came across a house.
It was built into the stone of the canyon wall, with carved steps leading down to the river. There were three little boats tethered next to the steps, plus a flat raft that looked made out of driftwood from the sea. Bits of broken glass and small smooth stones hung from the house's overhang, chiming in the wind.
"Finally," Naji said. "We're here."
"This is it?" We were on the other side of the river from the house. I walked up to the water's edge. The house looked empty, still and silent save for that broken glass.
"Yes. Leila's house." Naji closed his eyes and swayed in place. Everything about him was washed out except for the wound on his chest. "She can help me."
But I got the feeling that he wasn't talking to me, so I didn't say nothing.
"Guess we got to swim across," I said. The water ran slow, smooth as the top of a mirror. Looked deep, though.
Naji opened his eyes. He nodded, and then he sat down and pulled off his boots and lashed 'em together with his sword and his knife and his quill, which I was surprised to learn hadn't been packed away on the camel. "My desert mask," he said.
"What about it?"
"Where is it?"
"I dunno."
Naji stood up, his boots and sword and all bundled up at his feet. "You don't know? You took it from me! I would never have lost it."
"Well, you didn't seem all too worried about it before." I honestly didn't know what had happened to the mask. It probably got left behind on the riverbed or knocked into the river proper.
"I didn't need it before."
"Why do you need it now? We still ain't in the desert."
Naji face got real dark, his eyes narrowing into two angry slits. "It doesn't matter," he said, turning away from me. He grabbed his boots and waded out into the water. I followed behind him, sure he was gonna pass out and I'd have to save his life
again. The water was colder here, and I didn't know if that was cause of the depth or this Leila woman. Probably both.
At the other side of the river, Naji put on his boots, and drew his robes tight over the wound on his chest. Then he knocked on the door.
We had to wait awhile. Whoever Leila was, she sure took her sweet time. Naji knocked again. The glass tinkled overhead and cast rainbow lights all over the place.
"She ain't here," I said.
"Of course she is." Naji leaned up against the side of the house, tugging distractedly on the hair hanging at the left side of his head, pulling it over his scar. "She has to be."
The Assassin's Curse Page 11
