The caravan leader, Korikana—known as Kori to the caravaneers—was a small man. One of his legs was shorter than the other, so he walked with a jerky, pronounced limp. He was more at home on his arem than on his feet, and doted on the creature so much it was clear he regarded it as a companion as much as a beast of burden.
During the day Kori travelled up and down the line of carts and platten, checking that passengers and goods were in order. Two days ago he had pulled up beside the platten Emerahl had bought a seat on and pointed to a dark line that had appeared on the horizon.
“Hannaya!” he had declared before riding on.
Now she witnessed the same scene repeated. This time, however, his finger directed her attention toward what the dark line had become: a high cliff. Or, more specifically, a section of the rock wall.
She hadn’t had more than the occasional glimpse of it in the last day and she couldn’t see much now. The country she travelled through was covered in strange trees. They varied in size and also appeared to come in a few similar types. The largest had either a single or several trunks springing from its base. Sometimes they were straight, sometimes they twisted sinuously. Their bark could be smooth or rough, pale or dark. All were remarkable in that they had no branches. At the top of each trunk was a mop of large, stringy leaves of varying colors. Some bore odd fruit that was popular with the locals. Its flesh was sweet and dense. Others bore richly flavored berries that could be eaten fresh or dried. Another smaller variety produced spicy seeds. Emerahl could see potential for cures in the seeds and berries.
Another common variety of local plants were the ones with sharp prickles. They grew in all kinds of bulbous shapes, from tiny stone-like ones that quickly discouraged any traveller from walking barefoot or sitting down without first checking the ground, to enormous spheres twice as tall as a man with spines as long as her arm. Most varieties were edible, apparently, and Kori had demonstrated this once by slicing open a head-sized plant with a sword and scooping out the surprisingly sweet, watery contents for them to taste.
The platten turned and Emerahl realized the road they had been following since the coast had met a wider thoroughfare. People, animals and vehicles travelled back and forth on this new road. Looking up, she caught her breath.
So that’s what Kori’s all excited about, she thought.
The cliff was now in full view, and the sight was like nothing she’d ever seen. The high rock face had been carved with tier upon tier of windows and balconies. Near the center, enormous arched windows suggested grand halls within. Toward the edges, smaller ones hinted at more humble abodes. Smoke wisped from what looked like horizontal chimneys and water cascaded out of the mouths of carved faces.
“The palace!” Kori said to her as he rode past, gesturing grandly.
It was both fantastic and ridiculous. In one place the face of the cliff had collapsed, revealing abandoned rooms within. Emerahl wondered how far the tunnelling went into the rock face and if any other collapses were hidden within. She knew she wouldn’t feel completely at ease in this city; she would always be expecting the ceiling to fall on her, or the floor to drop away.
As the caravan drew closer to the cliff face, Emerahl was relieved to see plenty of buildings at the palace’s base. The citizens of Hannaya didn’t just live in the rock wall. More buildings filled the gap between the rock wall and the river.
She regarded the boats on the river wistfully; she had wanted to buy a place on one, but the fee had been too expensive. Kori halted the caravan in an area alongside the river where several other collections of carts and platten had camped. She paid him the final quarter of his fee and asked where she should look for accommodation. He drew a symbol in the dust, a star inside a circle, then gave her directions. When she was sure she had memorized the instructions well enough, she bade him farewell and set off in the direction he’d indicated.
She found the accommodation easily and was amused to discover it was a place for women travellers run by Pentadrian Servants. They gave her a bed in a room with three other middle-aged women, who appeared to be travelling together. The women tried to strike up a conversation, but Emerahl pretended she didn’t know the local language well enough to hold one. Which was partly true. Though The Twins had taught her Murian during her long journey, the speed at which the locals spoke made it difficult to understand at times.
She set a shield of magic about her bag and lay down on her bed. It didn’t take long before she was sliding into sleep—it was more of a struggle stopping herself lapsing into full unconsciousness. She had been travelling continually for months and craved a good long rest.
No time for that yet, she thought. But I don’t think I’ll bother mind-skimming. The Twins should be able to tell me what I need to know.
:Surim. Tamun.
:Emerahl, they replied.
:I’ve arrived. I’m in Hannaya. Are the Thinkers still here?
:Yes. They are in the library, deep within the palace, Surim told her. Are you going there next?
:No. I’m tired. I’ll need a fresh mind if I’m to convince them to let me join them. I hope they don’t realize the parchment is a fake.
With The Twins’ help she had located some old parchment and made a fake fragment of a scroll. It had the same pronouncement written in two languages, one in the script the Thinkers were trying to decode and another in a slightly younger language that they understood. It didn’t give them the entire key to the unknown language, however.
Once the Thinkers knew she could read the older script they would want her to translate the artifacts they had been studying. She had wondered, at first, why The Twins needed her to translate them.
:We can only see what is in the minds we read, they had said. Since the Thinkers do not understand it, neither do we. Only when they study the shapes of the script are we able to identify them. But they rarely do that, so it is slow work. It will be much faster if you read them for us.
:Why don’t we send them a fake parchment with the complete key to the language and let them work it out for themselves? We can read the location of the Scroll of the Gods from their minds and I can go fetch it.
:If the gods are watching and learn of the Scroll’s location through the Thinkers, they may send someone to destroy it.
It was logical to assume that both Circlian and Pentadrian gods wouldn’t want any scroll containing their secrets to be found.
:You followed our instructions on making the parchment appear genuine, Surim now said. Without looking at it ourselves, we can’t tell you how convincing it is, but we trust you’ve done a good job. Still, it would be wise for you to avoid leaving it with them.
:We have other news, Tamun said. One of the Thinkers has been offered a large sum of money for the Scroll. The other Thinkers won’t want to sell it, so he knows he would have to betray them. He’s not sure he wants to.
:Which of the Thinkers is it?
:Raynora. You will like him, I think. He is good-looking and devious.
:I’m not sure which to be most disturbed by—that you think I’ll like him because he’s good-looking or because he’s devious. Do you think he’ll take the offer?
:Perhaps if the price is raised. We will watch him closely.
:Good. I’ve been too busy for much mind-skimming, and I doubt that’s going to change. For now, the Scroll and the Thinkers can wait until tomorrow, she told them. I need a good long sleep.
:Good night, they both chimed, then their minds faded from her senses.
To the left hunkered the mountains of southwestern Sennon that the Siyee had flown over the previous day. Their lower slopes folded into root-like shapes that sank into a wide, sandy strip of land caught between mountains and sea. On the other side, across the water, the dusty shadow of the southern continent could be seen. A haze obscured the land and made it impossible to tell if the distant shapes were hills or mountains.
In front was a thin strip of land linking the two continents.
The Isthmus of Grya, Auraya recalled. It looks so fragile, as if the sea ought to have washed it away centuries ago. Maybe it was wider once and the tide has slowly worn it into this narrow land bridge.
Danjin had once said, just before the war, that the Isthmus would have been an effective defensive position to hold against the Pentadrian invaders, if only the Sennons hadn’t agreed to help the enemy. Auraya wasn’t sure she agreed with him now. The lack of water or food in the Sennon desert would make holding such a position difficult. Supplies could be transported to the Isthmus, but only with great effort.
Which meant it might be a better defensive position for the Pentadrians, if they had a supply of food and water on the other side. She knew their main city, Glymma, was not far from the Isthmus, so both resources must be available in large enough quantities to keep a big city thriving.
Sreil turned toward the southern continent and the rest of the Siyee followed. They were flying high, hoping that any human that chanced to look up would dismiss them as a flight of birds. The haze of dust ahead would also hide them.
Sennon slowly retreated behind them and Auraya began to make out details of the land ahead. A road extended from the Isthmus into the haze. The darker shapes proved to be low hills in the distance. The sun glinted off water at the turns of a wide, ropey river.
Then slowly the lines and structures of a city began to appear.
The road curved to meet it, turning into a paved street wider than any Auraya had seen. On either side, smaller streets spread in an ordered grid. Houses were sturdy structures of brick with tiled roofs. They stretched in all directions, from the wharves at the sea’s edge out to where green fields began. Here and there gardens of green vegetation and pools of reflected sky caught the eye like jewels in a fantastic necklace.
It was a city as large as Jarime. Perhaps larger. It had none of the labyrinthine disorder of the Hanian capital, however. Signs of intelligent pre-planning continued to the city edge and beyond. Impressively large aqueducts carried water far out from the mountains, and canals from the river were spanned by bridges of strange and beautiful shapes.
At the center of the city, where the wide main road ended, a hill broke the urban order. On this was built a complicated series of structures: a muddle of roofs and courtyards. Auraya wondered why this place was so chaotic when the rest of the city was not.
If this is Glymma, is that the Temple of the Pentadrians?
There was no other building or set of buildings so grand. She decided it must be. Looking around the city, she wondered what it was like to live there. To her surprise she found herself thinking of Mirar. Had he visited Glymma? He could have passed through on the way to the town Jade had said he was in. A town in Mur, in the north, if Jade hadn’t lied to protect him. In fact, Mirar could be down there right now.
Her musings were interrupted by a whistle from Sreil. He changed course again, heading away from the city.
Auraya sensed the mood of the Siyee shift. They had been even more impressed by Glymma than she, most of them having never seen a landwalker city. Now that their fascination had been broken, a gloom was settling over them. If the enemy was this powerful, how could the Siyee ever hope to fight them?
She wished she could reassure them. None of the whistles of the Siyee could communicate her confidence in them and any words she spoke would be difficult to hear over the wind. And I have no idea if this place they’re going to attack is well defended, she thought. I can’t promise them that they’ll succeed. Sometimes it was better to remain silent.
The aqueducts and fields stretched a long way from the city. Weariness began to nag at the Siyee. Sreil was leading them toward the low hills, where he hoped they could find a safe place to rest for the night. The sun dropped until all was stained the color of gold.
They reached the hills as the sun touched the horizon. All were relieved to see the dry valleys and ridges were uninhabited. Sreil gave the signal to descend and circled down into a gully.
A dim light still remained as they landed, but within moments it had died and left them in impenetrable darkness. Auraya felt the Siyee standing around her, uncertain and a little frightened.
“Shall I create a light?” she suggested.
“Yes,” Sreil replied quietly. “It is worth the risk, I think. The hills around us should hide it.”
She drew magic and channelled it into a tiny spark that barely lit the faces around her. The Siyee crowded around anxiously.
“Snack?” a small voice at Auraya’s shoulder said hopefully.
Chuckles broke out all around. Auraya smiled as the Siyee relaxed a little. She reached back to scratch Mischief’s head.
“Yes, I think it’s time for a snack.”
The Siyee began to settle in for the night. Food was unpacked and Auraya’s burden as water carrier lessened. Watchers were chosen and patches of ground were swept free of stones. Although the Siyee were used to sleeping in hammocks, not the hard ground, their exhaustion would ensure they got some rest.
As quiet settled over the camp, Auraya’s stomach sank as she felt a familiar approaching presence. She knew it was Huan by the way the hairs rose on the back of her neck.
Huan moved to priest Teel and spoke into his mind. First she asked how the Siyee had fared, then, as always, she asked what Auraya had done. Teel reported Auraya’s every movement faithfully.
:She is not to fight in this battle, Huan told him.
:Even if we are losing? Teel asked.
:Even then. This is to be a warning to the Pentadrians that every time they strike at Circlians there will be retribution. It needs to be delivered by Circlian fighters. If Auraya fights, it will appear to come from her.
:But she is a Circlian, too.
:But not our chosen weapon of retribution. How will the Pentadrians learn to respect ordinary Circlians if ordinary Circlians do not stand up and fight?
:I see.
:Yes. You are a good example for your people, Teel. You are loyal and obedient.
Auraya felt Teel’s pride swell.
:I will do whatever you want me to.
:I know you will, Teel. Your heart is true. Of the Siyee priests, you show the most promise. I know you will not fail me.
Auraya rolled her eyes. The young man was already stuffed full of his own importance. He did not need Huan boosting his confidence and pride any further. As the flattery and declarations of loyalty continued, she found herself feeling faintly nauseous.
This is one of the gods I used to love unreservedly? she asked herself. It was terrible discovering that Huan hates me and wants me dead, but this is sickening. She’s turning him into a blind fanatic. He’ll probably be so sure she will protect her little favorite that he’ll rush into the battle and get himself killed.
Sighing, she rolled over. I don’t love the gods equally any more. When I die Chaia had better be the one to take my soul. I think if it was a choice of being taken by Huan or fading out of existence, I’d choose the latter.
This was a terrible blasphemy, she knew, but for once it didn’t send a shiver of fear down her spine.