A pang of guilt hit Kevessa as she remembered that he, too, had family at risk. “Do you think so? But your father is head of the orthodox Temple. What if the Purifiers—”
“Father knows how to deal with them. Remember, he’s working with Yoran Lirolla.”
“Because of me.” Kevessa looked away. It had been her faked demonstration of Nina’s demonic nature that had convinced Keeper Emirre and so many others, including Vigorre himself, that the Purifiers were right.
“Because of Yoran’s ruthlessness and cruelty. What else could you do when he was threatening your father?” Vigorre shook his head. “Father has an understanding with the Purifiers. He’ll be fine, and he’ll protect the rest of my family. It wouldn’t surprise me if he negotiates a peaceful surrender to the Marvannans. With the Matriarch and the Armada gone, he’ll be the closest thing to a leader Ramunna has.”
Surely Keeper Emirre would prevent the kind of wanton destruction she’d imagined. “I hope you’re right.”
“It will help that I’m gone. He’ll have to disown me. Otherwise Yoran will hold him responsible for me breaking my oath and betraying the Purifiers.” His voice was matter of fact, but Kevessa knew there was deep pain beneath his casual attitude.
“He might pretend to, but it won’t be real.” Kevessa put all the certainty she could into her words. “After we come back you’ll be able to show him the truth about the familiars and the Mother’s power.”
“I hope so. I hope he’ll believe me. Master Elkan showed him Elder Davon instructing Nirel to lie, but he dismissed it as a false image, just like I did.” He grinned wryly. “I hope I didn’t do such a good job convincing him that you and the other wizards were tempting me with your powers that he’ll keep believing what I said then and refuse to believe me now. After all, I’d be saying the same things if I really had been enslaved by demons.”
“Your father knows you. You were telling the truth as you saw it then, and he’ll know you’re telling the truth now.” She waved her hand. “Or, you know, when we come back.”
“Months from now.” Vigorre reached up to stroke Nirre. “Until then he’ll go on believing I’m an oathbreaker and a traitor to the Mother.”
“Well, you’re not.”
He quirked an eyebrow at her. “I broke my oath to the Purifiers.”
“That doesn’t count,” she protested. “You swore it in the Mother’s name. She’d hardly hold you to an oath to oppose her.”
“Of course not. But I never formally asked her to release me. So, technically…”
“Oh, be quiet.” She punched him in the arm, not hard, but not too lightly, either. “You’re teasing me.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “Feel better?”
“I guess.” She did, actually. The dread of terrible events beyond her control was still there, but it had lightened considerably. “You?”
“Much.” He sobered. “We have to believe the Mother is guiding us. She told me it was still possible for her power to be restored to the whole world. Nothing has happened yet to close off that possibility. I have to trust that somehow everything is leading to that end in ways we can’t see, and as long as we do our best and try to follow her will we’ll get there eventually. No matter how convoluted the path.”
Kevessa shivered. “But she didn’t promise any of us would be alive to see it. Or that all sorts of terrible things wouldn’t happen in the meantime.”
“No.” Vigorre was silent for a few strides, then shrugged. “But then, we’ve never had those promises.”
“True.” Kevessa peered ahead. “Is that a door?”
“I think so.” Ahead of them the Matriarch’s steps quickened. Kevessa lengthened her stride. Nirre spread her wings to keep her balance as Vigorre accelerated.
The door opened into a huge cavern. Cold damp air hit Kevessa’s face as she stepped through. She breathed the familiar scent of wet straw and winter. Huge piles of ice blocks swathed in straw packed the cavern, turning it into a delightful refuge from the oppressive heat of summer outside.
She grinned at Vigorre. “Makes me want to throw snowballs.” To Tesi, who was staring around the enormous space in puzzlement, she explained, “The Matriarch sends ships far to the south to bring back ice, for use in the palace and to sell. In the hottest part of the summer she invites all the children of the aristocracy to a party here. There’s lots of crushed ice to play in, and frozen fruit and cream to eat, and usually a big slippery slope to slide down. One year there was a whole palace made of ice.”
Tesi’s frown grew deeper. “In Giroda children play in the snow in winter.”
“We seldom get snow here, only occasionally far up in the mountains,” Vigorre told her. “So we make our own. For the lucky few, anyway.” He looked pensive.
The Matriarch had taken no notice of their conversation. She headed for a much wider tunnel on the far side of the cavern. The rest of the party trailed after her.
This tunnel was short and hung with many layers of woolen curtains. As Kevessa pushed through them the air thickened and warmed, and the sound of lapping waves reached her ears. She emerged into another cavern, almost as large, open to the sea. Water came up to the narrow ledge she was standing on. A long dock extended into the water. Many berths lined it, but at the moment only a single ship was moored there, one of the medium-sized Armada vessels.
A sailor in the uniform of an Armada officer stood by a plank that extended from the dock to the ship. He saluted the Matriarch. “We received your orders, your majesty. The crew is assembling. Fresh supplies are on their way. We’ll be ready to sail in less than an hour.”
“Good.” The Matriarch swept across the plank. “My servants are bringing my luggage. Send them to my stateroom when they get here. I want us on our way as soon as the tide is favorable. If we have to leave behind a few fruits and vegetables, so be it. There should be plenty of hardtack and salted meat aboard to see us all the way to Tevenar.”
Vigorre looked around at the other wizards. “This is our last chance to change our minds and get away,” he said softly. “We might be able to make it back through the secret passages to our boat. What do you say?”
Borlen shook his head emphatically, Kevessa more reluctantly. Vigorre looked at Tesi. “Well?”
She looked down at Mimi, who was sitting primly at her feet. “You wish to do as the Matriarch commands. I will not ask you to defy her for my sake.”
Vigorre studied her for a moment, then nodded briskly. “All right. Are we set for food for the familiars? Nirre can fish easily enough. Borlen, there’s bound to be rats aboard for Shadow to hunt.”
“And he can eat salted meat if he has to, though he won’t like it.” Borlen gave the snake a stern look.
“Nina can make do on hardtack and whatever else we’re eating,” Kevessa said. “If we’re lucky there will be some nuts among the stores.”
“Mimi also can hunt rats or eat dried meat.” Tesi bent to scoop the cat into her arms.
“Nirre can bring her fish as well.” Vigorre nodded again. “Onward to Tevenar.” He strode across the plank.
Borlen followed him. Kevessa hung back to let Tesi go ahead. She spoke in a bright voice, to calm her fears as well as the Girodan’s. “Just think, Tesi. You’ll get to see the Mother’s Hall. You’ll love it, I promise. And you’ll get to meet all the Tevenaran wizards.” If any were left. “It’s amazing. Hundreds of wizards and familiars, all working together to heal people, and open windows to settle disputes, and anything else that’s needed.” She waved both hands to convey the scope of it all. “Someday it’s going to be like that in Ramunna. Giroda, too. We’re going to be responsible for making it happen. So it’s good you’ll get to see first hand what we’re working toward.”
“Yes,” Tesi said softly. That was all, but Kevessa thought her step grew a bit lighter and her shoulders straightened a little. She stepped from the plank to the deck of the ship, and Kevessa followed.
Much as she hated leaving Ramunna, sh
e was looking forward to seeing Tevenar again, as long as Vigorre was right and they found that the wizards had triumphed over the Armada. She’d expected it would be years before she saw Josiah again, if she ever did. Now it would only be a couple of months.
She refused to believe he wouldn’t be there in Elathir, waiting for her.
Nineteen
Nirel woke to Lena violently shaking her. She jerked her eyes open. “What’s wrong?”
“The Marvannan fleet is coming. We have to get out before they reach the harbor.” Lena threw a leather satchel on the bed. “Pack as much as you can carry and be downstairs in five minutes.” She vanished out the door. Rumbles of a distant thunderstorm growled in the darkness.
Nirel scrambled out of bed and threw on her most modest dress, then began stuffing everything she could reach into the pack. The fine linen bedclothes, the quilt Lena’s grandmother had sewn, the fluffy down pillow. They would need those things on the ship, which had been designed for carrying cargo, not passengers. And they would be reminders of home for her adopted family when they reached Tevenar.
Why were they leaving so soon? By her calculations she should have had months yet to learn healing skills from Nalini. So far she’d mastered administering the sweet vitriol and stitching wounds, but she still preferred to have Nalini’s supervision when distilling insulin, and she’d never even watched Nalini make the sleeping drug. The more she worked with the healer, the more she despaired of ever committing to memory a tenth of Nalini’s vast store of knowledge about medicines and the human body.
She clattered down the stairs and rushed into the front room with a lack of decorum that would surely earn her penance at her next confession, but Elder Davon only gave her a distracted nod as he held the door open. “Our ship is waiting at the dock. I’ll escort you there, but then I must leave you for a while. I need to supervise the evacuation and ensure everything is going as planned.”
“Let me help,” Nirel begged. “Is the shrine packed? I can fold the draperies, or box your books, or anything else that needs doing. Or I can go from house to house and make sure everyone is out—”
“I appreciate your offer, daughter, but the best way you can serve me is to stay safe aboard the ship so I won’t be distracted worrying about you. I have trustworthy men carrying out those tasks. We’ve been preparing for this day since long before you joined us.”
“But isn’t this sooner than you expected?” Nirel dared ask him as they strode through the dark streets. Already they were full of people hurrying toward the docks, and more were pouring out of doorways every moment.
“A bit. The Marvannans advanced more quickly down the coast than I anticipated. From the reports I’ve received, it seems they’ve equipped their vessels with a weapon capable of destroying Armada ships. They’ll reach Ramunna sometime tomorrow. The Armada won’t be able to prevent them from landing and occupying the city.”
“But I thought we weren’t going to leave until afterwards. Didn’t the Purifiers agree to let us go?”
Davon smiled grimly as the mass of tightly packed bodies around them forced them to slow. “I don’t put much faith in Yoran Lirolla’s promises. Why should he accept our payment and allow us to depart, when he could seize our money, our ships, and our goods and cast us out with nothing? The gold we promised will be left for him to find, along with a deserted Quarter and empty docks, when he comes with soldiers to force us from our homes.”
That seemed like a wise plan to Nirel. But if he’d let her know they’d be leaving so soon, she could have prepared better. She cast a longing look down a side street that led toward Nalini’s clinic. “We’ve been treating four Faithful children with diabetes. You remembered to assign someone to bring insulin and injectors from the clinic, right? I think Nalini has enough stored there to last the voyage.”
Davon shook his head. “Everyone is occupied with more vital tasks.”
Nirel stared at him. “But… they can’t stay behind. I mean, I guess Irren could, he’s nearly thirteen. But he’d never get to stand his trials. And the others are much too young, unless their parents stayed, too.”
“No. Everyone must come with us. I gave the order in the name of the Lord of Justice.”
Which meant that all Faithful must obey, or forfeit their place in the Lord’s presence forever. With all the Elders gone, they could never seek absolution for their disobedience. She swallowed. “But without insulin, they’ll die.”
“If that is what the Lord decrees.” Davon’s voice was implacable.
“But it doesn’t have to be. They’ll be fine if we take enough insulin with us. Please, we’re moving so slowly I could run to the clinic and back before you go another block.” She twisted her fingers together, fighting the urge to dash away without waiting for his permission.
Davon looked down the side street, then ahead. The crowd was starting to break up. People around them noticed Davon’s robes and moved aside to let them through. His face, which had momentarily softened, grew hard again. “No, daughter. Your safety is more important to me. If there’s time later I’ll send someone.” He turned and made his way through the offered opening, nodding graciously to those who yielded. Lena pressed close behind, assuming Nirel would follow.
There wouldn’t be time. Even if there was, whoever he sent wouldn’t know what to get, or how much. Nirel only hesitated an instant before grabbing up her skirts and running toward the clinic. Davon would give her a harsh penance, but she’d have plenty of time aboard the ship to complete it.
The clinic was dark and quiet as she slipped inside, the noise of the crowded main streets muffled by walls and distance, only the increasingly loud storm disturbing the stillness. Nirel lit a lantern and surveyed the shelves full of bottles, boxes, and vials.
She calculated doses in her head, adding generous margins to her estimates. Twelve jars of insulin should be plenty to last all four patients, even if their voyage was delayed. She opened her pack, discarded her pillow, and ruthlessly ripped the linen sheets into strips to wrap the glass jars. She nestled them among folds of the quilt. Then she added all four of the precious injectors. Nalini had others at the tent and could have more made. Hopefully there would be smiths in Tevenar capable of duplicating the slender hollow needles when they grew too dull to use.
She rummaged the shelves, gathering whatever she thought would be useful, including all the sweet vitriol Nalini kept at the clinic. She’d have to reserve it for dire emergencies. Paper packages of the most useful dried herbs filled in the spaces. She would have liked to take the distilling equipment, but it was far too bulky. There were glassblowers among the Faithful who ought to be able to provide her with adequate replacements. She hoped she could remember all the steps of distilling insulin without Nalini to remind her.
Nirel hefted the much heavier pack to her back and set out. Because of the way the street angled, continuing to the next street over was a shorter route to the docks than backtracking to the street she’d come from. She was happy to put off facing Elder Davon as long as possible.
Crowds jammed this street, too. Unlike in the busy market or the streets around the palace, everyone here was quiet and patient, all shuffling downhill toward the docks without trying to shove ahead or cut off their neighbor. Occasionally a baby cried or a toddler whined, but they were quickly hushed.
Beside Nirel, a child of about six years pressed close behind his mother, who followed her stern-looking husband. After a particularly loud thunderclap that made the whole crowd flinch, Nirel caught the barely audible sound of a muffled sob. A quick glance showed her tear streaks on the boy’s face.
His parents would punish a child so old for crying if they noticed. Nirel tried to smile encouragement at the boy, but he refused to meet her eyes. He swiped angrily at his face and stared straight ahead.
Nirel ignored the man, as was proper, and moved to walk beside the mother. With all the decorum expected of a Faithful woman, she said, “Good day, neighbor. Praise the Lord
of Justice, at last we’re escaping this miserable place. I’ve heard that the land the Lord is giving us is rich and green and cool.”
The boy didn’t look at her—that would have been rude—but Nirel could tell he was listening with interest. The woman sighed. “I know all the difficulties will be worth it once we’re free to worship the Lord in our own land.”
Complaining about the lot the Lord of Justice had granted you was forbidden by the twentieth Ordinance of the eleventh month. But there were ways to commiserate without violating it. “Yes. Being routed out of bed in the middle of the night, having to comfort terrified children when you’re nearly as afraid yourself, leaving everything you’ve known all your life and sailing for months through uncharted seas to a strange and alien place—all that will seem like nothing compared to the joy we’ll reap at the end of the journey.”
The woman smiled gratefully at Nirel. “I’m sure you’re right. The Elders have prepared well for this day. They’ll make sure everything goes smoothly and we arrive safely.”
“And the Lord of Justice will guard and guide us.” The boy looked considerably brighter. “Under his care, we need have no fear. Our new home will be far better than our old one. The journey there will be a glorious adventure. ”
The boy actually smiled at that. “May the Lord grant that it be so,” the woman said fervently.
From ahead came a sudden clamor of angry voices. The boy’s eyes widened in fear, and the woman swallowed hard. “Lord protect us,” she whispered.
Nirel gave them both a reassuring smile, though her heart was pounding. “I’ll go see what’s happening,” she told them. Before the woman could protest that it wouldn’t be proper, she slipped away through the crowd, turning her shoulders sideways to slide through narrow spaces, pushing when necessary. Most of the Faithful, even the men, gave way without protest in the face of such rudeness. Nirel knew they were trained from childhood to meekly endure far worse from the Lady’s followers, lest an angry confrontation provoke merciless reprisals on the whole community.
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