84 Ishalem

No one dared to challenge the Teacher on the streets of Ishalem. The dark figure glided past sweating work crews at the canal construction site, around the towering Urecari churches under construction, and arrived at the residence and headquarters of the provisional governor.

“I am here for Kel Unwar.” The uneasy guards parted to allow entry, and the Teacher brushed past them.

When the visitor appeared at his private chambers, Unwar looked up from the scrolls, construction diagrams, and abacus on his desk and responded with a warm smile. “Close the door. We can speak in private here.” After he pulled thick curtains to cover the windows, Unwar sat back down. “Relax and be comfortable.”

The Teacher reached up and gratefully removed the smooth silver mask. Unwar heaved a long sigh. “It's good to see you without your trappings, sister.”

The Teacher pulled back the hood and shook out her raggedly cropped dark hair. She rubbed her face. “That mask is who I am, and the mystique is my persona.”

“You're beautiful, Alisi. You shouldn't have to hide.”

“I'll stop hiding when all Aidenists are dead, for what they did to me.”

Unwar poured his sister a goblet of golden wine. “We all hate them. I know what happened to you.”

“You might know the words, but you don't know the depth of the wounds. No one can.” Alisi pulled off her gloves and sat back. She took a grateful sip of wine, then ate some bread and grapes from a platter, but her deep scowl did not fade. “You have heard what those monsters did at Fashia's Fountain? The desecration? The slaughter? Typical of them.”

“Yes, we received reports a few days ago. I sent a group of volunteers by fast ship to help the sikaras cleanse the site.” His voice could not convey the revulsion and disbelief he had felt upon learning the news.

“It will never be cleansed… nor will I. That's why we must inflict all the harm we can upon them, in the name of Urec.” The dead spot inside her felt cold and leaden. Alisi could no longer recall how it felt to be a happy girl, a carefree daughter, a dedicated sister. It was like looking at the ashes of a long-dead fire and trying to find warmth and light. It had been there once, but not anymore.

Her heart and soul had been extinguished that night the crude Tierran sailors stole her from the Ouroussa docks. When she had tried to scream, they gagged her; when she struggled, they tied her legs and hands and carried her like a burlap sack of grain up the gangplank to their ship. The captain had laughed. When the ship had cast off and drifted out into the Ouroussa harbor, Alisi was sure she had heard her brother calling for her… but no rescue ever came, and they sailed far out of sight of the Uraban coast.

The Tierran sailors had locked her in a small lightless cabin for days, starving her, until her spirit was broken. The Aidenist captain was a man named Quanas, his ship called the Sacred Scroll. He had kept her as his special pet, refusing to let the lusty crewmen do more than grope and leer at her. She had been so innocent then, a virgin, with very little knowledge about what was supposed to happen between a man and a woman. The stories she had heard about lovemaking made it sound like a joyful thing, but what Captain Quanas did to her was not joyful at all.

For the first month, he beat and raped her. Alisi fought back, but her struggles only made the treatment worse. After two months, the captain grew bored enough with her that he occasionally sent her to his officers or crewmen as a special treat.

All along, Quanas taught her his language and his religion in an attempt to “save” her. He forced her to rise every dawn and stand before their short-statured and broken-toothed prester, who preached from the Book of Aiden. They made her wear a fishhook pendant, though she had been taught the symbol would burn her skin if she touched it.

When Alisi could speak Tierran well enough, Quanas taught her to read Aidenist scripture. If she refused a lesson, he beat her, once even hard enough that he broke ribs. If she made mistakes, he would beat her again. Eventually, she had learned.

The captain corrected Alisi's pronunciation and grammar, he forced her to eliminate any trace of an accent, intolerant of the slightest errors. She didn't understand why, since he never let her off the ship, never showed her to outsiders. He locked her in the cabin whenever the ship came to port.

He told her to be grateful for what he was doing. “I am saving your soul. I am giving you knowledge and blessings—the knowledge and blessings that Aiden conferred on all of his people. Appreciate the fact that I am treating you as a potential human being, rather than a Urecari animal.”

And then he had raped her again.

When she inevitably got pregnant, the captain regarded her with disgust for months, until she came to term. She gave birth with very little help, but the baby was stillborn. Captain Quanas threw it over the side of the ship.

Held prisoner for more than two years, Alisi learned a great deal. She studied the captain as he forced her to repeat his lessons. She never tried to escape while they were in port, never caused trouble; the captain even believed she had converted to their offensive fishhook religion. As time passed, Quanas and his crew grew lazy, careless.

One night, when the Sacred Scroll sailed along the Tierran coast just after a successful trip into port, Alisi saw her opportunity. She broke a glass bottle and slit the captain's throat as he slept. Because she was allowed to wander the ship whenever they weren't in port, the night watchman didn't even acknowledge her as she walked out on the deck. She killed him too, this time with the captain's knife. During that quiet night, Alisi slew the five men who had treated her worst, including the prester. Then, before she could be caught, she dropped over the side into deep, dark water and swam to the coastline, where she saw tiny lights in the distance.

She washed up on shore the next morning and was found by a beachcomber collecting mussels. The old woman clucked over her condition, helped her to her feet, and placed an arm around her shoulder so the two could make their way to a nearby village. Since Alisi spoke perfect Tierran, the people there accepted her, and no one ever suspected that she was truly Uraban.

She lived among them for some time, considered an orphan with a terrible past—abused by the Urecari, they assumed. Alisi continued to watch and learn. Finally, when she had absorbed everything she could from that place, she stole food and money and made her way back down to Uraba….

Now, many years later, Alisi possessed a great deal of knowledge about life among the Tierrans. She spoke their language, knew their religion, their customs. She knew how to be one of them. And she could teach others.

She loathed the Aidenists. They had killed all of her feelings inside, except for the hatred that blossomed daily with renewed strength. They had stolen her childhood, and now she took joy in stealing their children.

Returning in secret, in shame, she had lived with her brother, explaining her plan for revenge, and Unwar had presented the ideas to Omra without revealing Alisi's identity. As the Teacher, Alisi used her knowledge to create ra'virs, and she had even taught her brother to speak their language. For years, with her silver mask and black robes, she had wielded fear over others, casting herself as an enigma. She indoctrinated the captive Tierran children, taught them, tested them, shaped and tempered them, and selected only the most fanatical candidates. No one suspected who she truly was, and that was how it must be.

She finally spoke again. “I came here, Unwar, because you have to make your decision about Prince Tomas before the soldan-shah learns what you have done. Once Omra knows, the choice will be out of your hands.” Alisi took up her mask and placed it back over her face. Her voice was muffled once more, a stranger's. “I would like to see the boy. Show me this Aidenist prince.”

Unwar led her up the winding steps to the tower cell, where the boy shot to his feet, looking at them with fearful hope. His angry defiance was clearly feigned. Alisi could see how terrified he was.

Staring at him through the burnished hemisphere that covered her face, the Teacher didn't speak. She knew the effect her eerie silence had on people, and she waited for the uneasiness to make him crack.

Tomas cried out, “What do you want? How long are you going to hold me here? When will my sister send her answer?”

The two chuckled as Tomas's questions increased in desperation, and finally the boy broke down and began to sob.

Alisi turned her mask toward Unwar. “Pathetic. Worthless. I wouldn't even try to train him as a ra'vir.”

Her brother closed the cell door and bolted it as they walked back down the stone-walled corridor. “You know what must be done,” she said. “The boy is here. He should be made to pay for what the Aidenists did at Fashia's Fountain.”

“That child had nothing to do with the desecration.”

Alisi shrugged. “Nevertheless, it provides all the justification we need. How can Omra disagree? It's best if you don't give him the chance to make the wrong decision.” When her brother still looked uneasy, she snapped, “Have you already forgotten all those sikaras slain in cold blood?”

Unwar's expression darkened. “I won't forget that. I can never forget.”

“And will you forget the atrocities that the Aidenists inflicted on me?”

Unwar turned white. “Never!”

The Teacher glided off down the corridor. “Then you know what Urec's justice demands. Why wait for the soldan-shah?”