“That’s better,” Maeli said. Again Droë heard mockery in the words.
“Where did you come from?” Teelo asked. She thought his interest sincere.
“Far. Trevynisle.”
The two shared another look.
“You sailed?” he asked.
Droë shook her head. “I journeyed with a Shonla.”
Their eyes widened at the same time, in precisely the same way.
“What was that like?”
“Cold. And it demanded a lot of singing.”
He nodded, smiled. Perhaps he wasn’t so bad.
“I still want to know why you’ve come,” Maeli said.
She, on the other hand, Droë didn’t trust at all.
“And I’m still not willing to tell you.”
“You’ve come from Trevynisle, you said,” she went on, ignoring Droë’s remark. “So you probably know Walkers.”
Droë tried to keep her expression even. Judging from Maeli’s wicked grin, she failed.
“We know a Walker. Don’t we, Teelo?”
“Maeli–”
His sister rounded on him. “What? I’m playing. I’m not being mean.”
“That’s not the point. We shouldn’t talk about him.”
Displeasure creased Maeli’s forehead. “I don’t see why not. I never understood why you liked him so. He was rude, too. And he never shared. All the years that–”
“Maeli!”
She stiffened at his tone, eyes widening again in an entirely different way. She glared at him for the span of a breath, then left them at Tirribin speed.
Droë regarded Teelo, unsure of what she ought to say, her mind filled with questions. What Walker had they met? Mara had come here, but Teelo had said “him.” Did they know Tobias? And what did they mean about him never sharing?
Teelo’s stare didn’t leave the spot where his sister had been standing. A frown pinched his features.
“Do I need to leave this city?” she asked, breaking a lengthy silence. “Will the two of you…?”
“Will we kill you?” He shifted his gaze to her. “Probably not. Maeli will want to, especially now. And she’s the elder; it’s her choice. Still, she probably won’t try without me, and I feel no need to.”
She knew she couldn’t expect more reassurance than that.
“The Walker she spoke of,” she said. “Was… was his name Tobias?”
Surprise registered on his face. “Yes, it was. You know him?”
“No. I will, later. I met a friend of his, also from his future.”
“His future is lost.”
“I know. This other human came back to reclaim it, to repair history.”
Teelo shook his head. “Impossible.”
“You don’t think she can succeed?”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Do you?” He gave her no time to respond. “Have you interacted with any humans since you left Trevynisle? Of course you have. You’ve fed. Probably dozens of times. So have Maeli and I. We’re aware of the misfuture, but that hasn’t stopped us from doing what we do. Nor has it stopped anyone else. History is changing constantly, and just because it veers in a new direction doesn’t mean it stops, or waits. The future is always changing. That future–” He gestured again with that same fine-boned hand: a vague turn of the wrist that encompassed everything beyond the alley in which they stood. “The one Tobias left. It’s gone. It’s been gone since he entered the between. He can no more reclaim it than he can reclaim a raindrop from last night’s storm. You’re Tirribin. You should know this.”
Droë could think of nothing to say. Because she did know it, and had since the night she summoned Tresz and decided to leave Windhome. Whatever the woman – Mara – had hoped to accomplish, she was doomed to fail.
Droë didn’t care, because she had her own purpose. She didn’t want Tobias to return to his time. She didn’t want Mara to find him. She searched for the Walker himself, not for any point in time, and certainly not for any thread of human history. Of course, she wasn’t about to share with Teelo her reasons for coming to Daerjen. She trusted him more than she did his sister, but that was a low threshold to clear.
“You do know it,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “You’re no fool. So why are you here? Do you intend to harm the Walker?”
“No!” She said it too quickly and with too much passion. Her cheeks flushed. A human response.
“Interesting,” he said, considering her, his head canted. After a brief pause, he went on. “We sent him to the Notch.” He pointed southward. “It’s a place humans go when they don’t want to be found by those with authority. Breaklaws, debtors, people who can’t find work. It seemed the safest place for… him.”
“Why did he need such a place?”
“I can’t–”
“Who was with him? Your sister started to mention someone.” “A mistake. She shouldn’t have spoken so.”
“And yet she did.”
Teelo shook his head, grave and resolute. “It’s not my tale to tell. Nor was it hers.”
“I’d never harm him,” Droë said, knowing her tone betrayed too much.
“I believe you, but it’s up to him to decide what you should and shouldn’t know.”
“Do you always show such loyalty to humans?”
“He’s not just a human. He’s a Walker. And in this case, I’m not sure you’re one to talk.”
He softened this with a smile. Droë felt her cheeks redden again.
“Can you at least tell me when you sent him to this Notch you mentioned?”
“It’s been nearly two turns now.”
“Do you think he’s still there?”
His hesitation was answer enough. “We’ve gone there several times since. We haven’t seen him or sensed him.”
Her mouth had gone dry. “Gone, or dead?”
Teelo raised a shoulder, an apology in his pale eyes. “He had an arrangement with an Arrokad. Ujie. It’s possible that she might tell you more, if you can convince her to help you.”
Droë shuddered. “An Arrokad. What sort of arrangement?”
“Neither of them told us much.”
“You’re still with her?”
They both pivoted. Maeli stood equidistant from them, completing a perfect triangle, fists on her hips, cold resentment in her expression.
“I was waiting for you,” he said. “I knew you’d come back. You always do.”
“That’s because I’m always bored without you.”
“Or hungry,” he said.
“Yes, or that.”
The girl cast a leery eye over Droë. “You’re going to insist that we let her stay, aren’t you?”
“Hayncalde is a large city, Maeli,” her brother said. “None of us will go hungry.”
“That’s not the point, is it?”
“What is the point?” Droë asked.
Maeli bared her teeth. “I don’t like you. I don’t want you here.”
“I’m not so fond of you, either. I do like your brother–”
“Yes, I’m sure. He likes you, too. What a surprise. My brother likes everyone.”
“Actually, I was going to say that your brother likes you, and so perhaps I should give you another chance.”
She saw a sly smile flash across Teelo’s face.
“Oh.” Maeli appeared genuinely confused.
“I haven’t yet hunted in your city,” Droë went on. “I won’t without your leave. But I wish to remain here, just until I work out where I ought to go next. I ask your sufferance.” She finished with the formal words of supplication, her gaze lowered.
The Tirribin looked to her brother again. Droë’s submission had caught her by surprise. Droë realized now that she should have started off this way, meek and respectful instead of combative. She was the interloper, not Maeli, and her mere presence here could have been taken as a challenge. Had been taken that way, obviously. Her own fault, and foolish. She could have gotten herself killed. It was a lesson she had learne
d once long ago, nearly to her own doom, and still she had forgotten. She needed to be more careful.
“Do you know how long?” Maeli asked. She sounded more curious than hostile.
“I don’t. A few days perhaps. No longer.”
“Where would you go after?”
“I can stay then?”
Maeli dismissed the question with a flip of her hand. “Teelo’s right,” she said. “There’s plenty here. Answer my question.”
“I don’t know yet. I need to find the Walker first, or at least learn his fate.”
Maeli exaggerated a nod. “So you’ve told her about Ujie,” she said to her brother.
“I mentioned her just before you came back.”
“I suppose that’s good. Saves me the trouble.” She heaved a sigh. “Let’s do something. I’m bored.” She said it to both of them. For now, Maeli had accepted her.
Despite having taken years from the man in the alleyway, Maeli wished to hunt again.
“It’s not that I need to,” she said, in response to her brother, when he pointed to the dead man. “I want to. It’s fun.” She eyed Droë. “Don’t you agree?”
This didn’t strike Droë as a good time to side with Teelo. “Of course,” she said. “And I am hungry.” She wasn’t really. Not that this mattered. She did enjoy hunting, and if that was what Maeli wished to do, Droë would join her.
Teelo acquiesced with a shrug, and the three of them left the alley, heading downhill toward the wharves.
“It was bad when the occupation began,” Maeli said as they walked. “The Sheraighs blockaded the port and we had no new prey for a turn. Now that the wharves are open again, finding years is easier, even with the curfew.”
“Was that before or after the Walker arrived here?”
Maeli regarded her for a few strides before facing her brother.
“It was the same time,” he said. “When we met the Walker, the occupation had begun, but he hadn’t been here long.”
Droë had expected as much, though she hadn’t been sure they would answer her question.
“What else have you told her?” Maeli asked him, ice creeping back into her tone.
“Not a lot. She knows he has an arrangement with Ujie. And she knows that he went to the Notch. She already knew his name.”
Maeli turned back to her. “Interesting. What do you want with him?”
She didn’t think it wise to dissemble. “To find him. To help him change this past back to the way things are supposed to be.”
“Such a human notion. The way things are supposed to be? I’m not sure I know what that means.”
“This is a misfuture. Already. And it gets worse as–”
“I know what you think it means. I know what the Walker thinks. Others of his kind probably feel as he does. I’m asking, what is all that to us? We feed on years. We perceive them. We know when they’re altered or pure. Beyond that, we don’t care. At least we shouldn’t.”
Droë started to answer, stopped herself. She wasn’t sure what to say. She felt off balance. If this was a fight, Maeli would have killed her already.
“Interesting,” Maeli said again, watching her. To her brother, she said, “You didn’t tell her anything more? Not about any of it?”
“I didn’t tell her anything I wouldn’t have wanted you to tell.”
“Did you find that frustrating?” she asked Droë.
“What are you doing, Maeli?” Teelo asked.
She ignored him, waited for Droë’s answer.
Droë refused to flinch from the other Tirribin’s stare. “You don’t want us to be friends. You’ll let me stay for now, but when you tire of me, when you’re ready to kill me, you want to be certain that Teelo will go along with you.”
“She’s clever,” Maeli said. She still eyed Droë, but once more she addressed her brother. “I’ll give you that. And you’ve always been distracted by the pretty ones. Remember that Tirribin in Streathe? You liked her, too.”
“I remember. It was six hundred years ago, but I remember.”
She did turn at that. “That wasn’t the only time. You’re too easily distracted, brother.”
“And you’re too easily threatened.”
“Three Tirribin is too many in one city, even one as large as Hayncalde. Never mind the number of prey. Yes, there are plenty for all. That’s not the point.”
“What is the point?” Droë asked.
Maeli spun. “Humans get nervous. They’ll find their dead, too many of them, and they’ll start to hunt for us. This is our home. I won’t be forced out because of you.”
“So when you said I could stay–”
A cruel smile. “Did I really say that?”
“Maeli–”
She rounded on her brother. “I’m the elder! This is my decision, and you will support me. You don’t wish to kill her. That’s fine. She need not die. But she will not remain here. If you insist on letting her stay, then I will make you kill her.”
Teelo blinked at the outburst.
To Droë, Maeli said, “You may hunt once in this city. Tonight. One life. Take more than I have decreed, or stay longer than I have sanctioned, and your life is forfeit.”
Droë looked past her, seeking out Teelo. He stared back, his expression flat, and he said nothing. He didn’t have to; he’d already said all that mattered. She’s the elder.
“All right,” she said. “I’ll go. I didn’t know there were Tirribin here, and I didn’t mean to enter the city without your permission.”
Neither of them responded. Dispensation was Maeli’s to give, and she didn’t.
Droë left them and continued on to the waterfront. Once she judged that she was beyond their hearing, she allowed herself to cry. Not for long. She had things to do before she left Hayncalde. But she was lonely, humiliated, scared, hurt. Tears coursed down her face and dripped from her chin.
She didn’t bother to hunt. She would feed elsewhere. Upon crossing through the gate, she sped away from the wharves, following the strand southward: the direction Teelo had indicated when he spoke of the Notch.
Once she was clear of the city, she stepped to the edge of the surf and called Ujie by name.
Soon she spotted movement through the distant swells. Moments later a figure emerged from the sea. Naked, beautiful, black hair hanging to her waist, pale skin aglow with moonlight. She walked to where Droë stood, her feet sloshing in the surf. As she drew closer, Droë saw that her eyes were silver, the pupils slitted rather than round.
“Cousin,” she said, in a voice like waves sliding over sand. “You summoned me.”
“I did,” Droë said. “Forgive me.”
Ujie halted at water’s edge, so that foam and brine lapped at her feet. “There is nothing to forgive. There is a price, however. There is always a price, as you well know.”
“I do. What would you have from me?”
The Arrokad lifted an eyebrow. “Your name to start.” “Droë.”
“You are here with sanction from the others? The siblings?”
“Not their sanction, but their forbearance. I’ll be gone before daybreak.”
Ujie sobered. “I see. You have been weeping. They were cruel?” She faltered.
“Maeli was cruel,” Ujie said, answering her own question.
“It was my own fault. I should have been more careful in entering the city.”
The Arrokad turned a hand. “Tirribin are odd in that way. More human than my kind would be. They mentioned me to you?”
“They told me you had arrangement with a human I seek. A Walker.”
Her expression darkened further. “That was not for them to discuss. With anyone.”
“They told me no more than that.”
This didn’t seem to mollify her. “Why do you seek him?”
“He’s part of a larger misfuture. And in another future, I’ve been told, he and I are friends. I don’t wish to lose that friendship.”
Droë winced at what she heard in h
er own words. She might as well have said, I want to fall in love with him.
Ujie’s eyes narrowed. “I care nothing for the misfuture. Humans will war with each other in one path as much as they will in another. And Walkers are often the agents of change such as this. Nevertheless I find your interest in him intriguing. This is unusual for Tirribin, yes?”
She glanced to the side and nodded.
“Then I ask you again, why do you seek him?”
A tear slipped from Droë’s eye. “I don’t know. I’m… confused.” “Most interesting.”
She bristled, weary of being an object of interest for other Ancients. “What’s so interesting? Your kind are known to engage in the act of love with humans. Sometimes you pleasure them and let them go, other times you kill them. Should I find your behavior interesting? Should I judge you?”
The Arrokad raised an eyebrow, silencing Droë.
“Do you wish to love this man, cousin?”
Heat suffused her face. Ujie’s eyes widened.
“Well, now I am truly surprised.”
“I’m curious,” Droë said, her voice barely louder than the advance and retreat of the surf. “I’ve seen love, the emotion and the act. I… I want to know more.” She gestured at herself. “I remain this girl-thing, and I tire of it. I want to be different. I want others to see me as more than a child.”
“You thought I would give this to you?”
She shook her head. “No. I wish to know if Tobias is still alive, and if he’s here in Daerjen. That’s why I summoned you.”
“Ah. Well, that is easy enough. He is still alive. I know this, because he owes me a boon, and I him. Arrokad keep ourselves aware of those with whom we have bargains fairly sworn. He has left these waters.”
“Can you tell me where he is?”
“I can. I choose not to.”
“Why?” Droë’s voice cracked on the question.
“I fear you have not considered fully the implications of what you seek, and what might happen if you find him.”
“That’s not your concern.”
Unwise, that last. Ujie drew herself to her full height and glowered down at Droë. “You summoned me, Tirribin. You made it my concern, and you will hear what I have to say.”
“Yes, cousin. Forgive me.”
Ujie let out a breath. “He may love another, you know,” she said, gentling her tone.
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