37

Despite a week spent resting at the edge of the Si forest with plenty of food and water provided by the local tribe, Tyziss still had to fight a deep, unshakable weariness in order to fly. He craved rest, but his longing to reach the Open and his family was more powerful. Though news that he had escaped the Pentadrians must have reached them, he knew they would not stop worrying about him until he was home.

Sreil flew a short distance ahead. Their leader hadn’t rested more than one night in one place since being freed from the Sanctuary. He had refused to rest any longer, determined that he wouldn’t be the one to delay the return of the warriors to the Open.

He must be exhausted, Tyziss thought. Only half of the freed Siyee had made it back to the Si border. The water and food the Pentadrians had provided them with had not been enough for the journey, but then the Siyee couldn’t have carried more anyway.

Tyziss had decided to return home by a different route, following the coast of Sennon. He dropped into villages to ask for water and food, figuring that there was no longer any reason to fear that Sennonion Pentadrians would report the presence of Siyee in their land.

Only the warriors who had come to the same conclusion had survived the journey. It was a longer route, however. It had taken Tyziss four weeks to reach Si. Sreil had arrived a week later.

When the first Siyee made it to the edge of Si the local tribe had flown out into the desert with water for following escapees, but most of the Siyee who had died had probably perished of thirst within a few days of reaching Sennon. Some would have fainted and fallen from the sky, others were perhaps too weak to become airborne again after landing for the night, or might have lost their sense of direction. A few days before Tyziss had reached Si he had followed a trail of faint footprints in the desperate hope they’d been made by a landwalker who might help him. Instead he’d found a Siyee lying in the sand. He’d landed only to find the man was dead. It had taken so much energy to run himself into the air again he had nearly blacked out. Only a short distance later he’d seen a well in the distance.

Poor Tilyl. He didn’t know how close he was.

He pushed that thought aside and tried to think of home, but his mind moved to darker places. Thirst had not been the only killer of Siyee. When Sreil had ordered them to leave for the Open the day after he arrived, someone had asked about the priest.

“Teel is dead, and Auraya has been imprisoned,” Sreil told them heavily. “She spoke to me in a dream and told me of it.”

At least she managed to free all but one of us, Tyziss told himself. He could not imagine how the Pentadrians could keep her constrained. She was a powerful sorceress. But so were the Pentadrian leaders. And there were five of them.

The Siyee crested a ridge and a great scar of stone on a mountain slope appeared ahead. The Open. Tyziss felt a rush of emotion so powerful it left him weak and dizzy. His arm muscles began to tremble. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to remain rigid and in control.

I’m not going to fail now, so close to home.

It seemed to take forever for them to reach that distant stretch of exposed rock. Siyee flew up to meet them, whistling greetings. Tyziss started to shake again as he saw his wife. He saw tears in her eyes. His own were quickly dried by the wind.

At last they were circling down to land. When Tyziss’s feet met the ground he sighed with relief. Yissi embraced him tightly. He was home at last.

“The girls?” he asked.

Yissi smiled. “Well enough. I’ve left them with my sister.” A crease appeared between her brows. “Oh, Ty. Will you be leaving straightaway? You’re so thin. You look worn out.”

“Leaving?” he asked.

He heard Sreil’s voice growing louder.

“When did they go?” the young man demanded.

“At the last black moon,” an old man, who Tyziss recognized as Speaker Ryliss, replied.

Sreil glanced at the returned Siyee. “We must join them.”

“No,” Ryliss said firmly. “You and your warriors are exhausted. You haven’t the strength to catch up with them.”

“A night’s rest will do,” Sreil replied.

“No, Sreil. I forbid it. Too many have gone, leaving us vulnerable. We need some fighters to remain in case we are attacked.” The Speaker glanced at them and shook his head sadly. “Though we were hoping more of you would return than this.”

“There are too few of us to turn back an invading army,” Sreil said. “But we can help the Circlians fight the Pentadrians. There is no point in us staying—”

“Are you so keen to drag these men across the desert again?” the old man asked.

Sreil stared at him, then shook his head.

“They aren’t fighting in green Hania, Sreil,” Ryliss explained. “They are taking this battle to the Pentadrians. Crossing Sennon to the southern continent. You would not reach them in time. More likely you would never reach them at all. Stay here, where you are needed.”

Sreil’s shoulders dropped. He nodded and the Siyee around him sighed in relief. Tyziss turned to Yissi.

“The Circlians are invading Southern Ithania?”

She nodded.

He straightened and shook his head. “Another war so soon after the last?” He frowned as a suspicion dawned on him. “Where are my parents?”

“Gone,” she said, sighing. “They weren’t the only ones too old or too young to be going to war, and yet our army was half the size of the last.” Her hand slipped around his waist. “If I hadn’t been so sure you were coming back I would have joined them myself.”

He looked at her closely and felt a pang of affection at her serious expression.

“You? A warrior?” he asked in mock disbelief.

She poked him in the ribs. “A fine husband you are. I tell you I never lost hope and would have sought revenge for your death, and all you can do is laugh at me?”

He nodded. “Yes. Let me laugh. I haven’t had much reason to lately. Now, where are those girls of ours?”

She smiled and led him away.

The light of Emerahl’s magic-fed spark revealed an empty room. She ducked through the small doorway and moved inside, relieved to see that nothing had been disturbed. Her accommodation was a dome made of woven reeds secured to the sandy riverbank. Everything here by the river was made of reeds, from boats to furniture to houses, including these little domes for hire.

The walls gave an illusion of privacy, but there were plenty of gaps in the weave through which someone could look. So far she hadn’t caught anyone spying on her. The locals considered such an act a crime, but that would be no deterrent if anyone suspected she carried a fortune in treasure.

She opened the reed basket that held the freshly steamed fish and reed shoots she had bought. As she ate she eyed the patch of matting under which she had buried the bag of treasure.

It was proving to be more of a nuisance than a benefit. In the last two weeks she hadn’t encountered a town large or wealthy enough to sell any of it in. Even the smallest piece was obviously worth a lot. Anyone she tried to sell it to would assume she had stolen it. Even if they didn’t care about that, they might guess she had more and try to rob her. While she was confident she could stop them, she did not want to draw attention to herself.

According to The Twins, Raynora had been caught sneaking into Barmonia’s tent a few days after Emerahl relieved him of the treasure. He had convinced Barmonia that Emerahl had tricked and robbed him. Barmonia had sent out a warning to Thinkers in Glymma, telling them to look out for a woman of Emerahl’s description, who carried stolen artifacts.

That made selling the jewellery dangerous in Glymma. The Twins were searching for someone she might be able to sell it to in the city. She could take some of the uglier pieces of jewellery apart and sell gems and chains of gold separately, but she didn’t like the idea of pawning any of it to some lowlife who didn’t know its true value. They were more than just pieces of gold and gems; they were from another age, when there had been more gods than countries in Ithania.

It would be safer to sell the treasure in the northern continent, but that meant lugging the heavy bag around with her. She was tempted to hide it somewhere, but hadn’t yet found a place she considered secure enough. In the meantime, she was running out of money. There was little profit to be gained as a healer here. Dreamweavers were as common as blacksmiths and cloth merchants. Days before, she had been forced to sell her arem. The money she’d received in exchange should last her until she reached Glymma.

If she could sell some of the gems, she would buy passage to Karienne on a ship. If not, she would have to walk across the Isthmus or see if she could work in exchange for passage on one of the small boats sailing across to Diamyane, the town at the Sennon end of the Isthmus. Either way, she would go up to the Red Caves and The Twins.

The Twins. She smiled. They had been alarmed when they heard of the chance she had taken, leaving the Thinkers on the hunch that the secrets of the gods were among the treasure Ray had stolen. Now they were anxious to see the diamond themselves. Perhaps they would have more success with it than Emerahl had.

She decided she would get no more flesh from the bones of the fish and wiped her hands. Drawing the chain out from beneath her clothes she examined the pendant hanging from it closely. The diamond was held within two intersecting bands of silver. On each band were glyphs. The first or second of each set were upside down:

She looked at the diamond closely. The bands framed the four largest facets. When she held it up to her spark the light cast shapes against the walls. If these were part of a language, it was either so old or obscure she had never encountered it before. The trouble was, neither had The Twins.

As the pendant revolved at the end of the chain, the glyph shadows moved, some to the left, some to the right. The ones turning to the right were blurred and she recognized reversed versions of the shapes turning left. A dark line of shadow crossed the wall as a silver band passed. Lines and glyphs followed.

Then she suddenly recognized a glyph. A full Sorli glyph representing “light.” She turned to stare at the diamond. The facet facing her light was the one contained between the bands marked one light / and two lights / .

She turned the diamond between her fingers, keeping that facet facing toward her. If she read only those glyphs that were the right way up when positioned above the diamond the words were:

Emerahl smiled. Using the same rule, the rest read:

Taking hold of the chain, she let the pendant hang again. She moved her spark closer and watched as the lines and shapes on the wall grew larger. Finding the “light” glyph, she felt a thrill as she realized that what she had assumed were more of the unfamiliar symbols were the simple glyphs for numbers.

But the thrill quickly faded. She still couldn’t make sense of it. The unfamiliar glyphs on the reverse side overlapped and obscured the familiar ones. Moving her spark closer only made the effect worse.

If I could just get rid of these symbols from the reverse side…. She blinked, then smiled. Of course, I can. I just have to get the light past them.

But that meant moving her light into the diamond. She wasn’t sure if she could do that without damaging it.

Dropping the pendant into her lap, she considered the risk. Maybe she should wait until she reached The Twins. Or at least ask them if it was possible to move a light into a diamond without damaging it. Perhaps they had tried it before.

She looked at the matting where the treasure was buried.

Perhaps I can try it on another gem first.

First she checked for minds close by. None were closer than the next reed dome, several paces away. She uncovered the treasure quickly and carefully, making sure none of the moist soil spilled onto the matting to hint that something might be buried here. Searching through the jewellery and trinkets, she was pleased to find a diamond set in a thick gold ring tangled among the chains near the top.

Freeing it, she sat back and considered the stone. There were no markings in it. In the past several weeks she had carefully checked all of the treasure and found nothing marked with glyphs or with other significant features.

Bringing her light close, she made it as small and cold as she could. Slowly, she moved it to the surface of the diamond. There was no resistance as, with a push of her will, she shifted it inside.

The effect in the room was quite pretty. The facets of the stone made patterns on the walls. They shifted, the slight movement of her hands magnified so that no matter how hard she tried to keep her hand steady the room looked like it was trembling.

Moving the light out of the gem, she put the ring down and picked up the pendant. Taking a deep breath, she held it as steady as she could and moved her light inside it.

The walls swirled with glyphs and lines, then steadied. She looked around and felt her stomach sink with disappointment. The glyphs still overlapped each other, forming a muddle of unrecognizable symbols. But as she turned to look behind her she felt a small thrill of relief and triumph. One section was clear. Lines and numbers surrounded the glyph she had recognized.

But now it was the curved dark weave of the dome wall that made it difficult for her to understand what she was seeing. She needed a flat wall. Or some other flat surface.

Looking around, she saw that the shawl she had draped over her pack hung relatively flat in places. Removing the light from the diamond, she put the pendant down and picked up her blanket. She hung the blanket from the roof using fishing hooks and twine.

She picked up the diamond and carefully introduced the spark again. Turning the pendant so the one light / one key side faced the blanket, she stared at the shape that appeared.

An octagon, marked with unbroken lines. At the center of this was the glyph for light. Lines of dots crossed the octagon, each marked by a number. The whole diagram shook from the slight tremble of her hands.

She had no idea what it meant. The word “light” within the octagon surely represented a light within the diamond. But what did the numbers and radiating lines mean?

I’ve never been much good with numbers and equations. This is one for The Twins, she decided. She stared at it until she was sure she had memorized everything, then drew her light from the diamond. Hanging the chain around her neck, she replaced the ring and buried the treasure again. Then, making sure the dome was well protected by a barrier of magic, she lay down to sleep.

:At first I thought it was unlikely this Elai child they rescued was a princess, Mirar told Auraya. Surely a princess would be too well-guarded to fall into the hands of raiders. But everyone I’ve skimmed believes it is true.

:So does everyone I’ve encountered.

:Then yesterday Nekaun told me of the treaty with the Elai. He sounded quite proud of the fact, even though he had nothing to do with it. It was all the doing of Second Voice Imenja and her Companion.

:I can’t see the Elai king making a treaty with landwalkers for anything less than the return of his daughter. It is quite a feat.

:And a surprise. I can’t see any great benefit to the Pentadrians in this treaty. The Elai are hardly a powerful or numerous people. They might eventually keep raider numbers down, but that won’t be a huge boost to trade since few Pentadrian traders bother travelling to Toren or Genria.

:But if they can sink ships, they may be a valuable ally in war. The White need to know about this. Auraya paused. Would you send them a message for me?

Mirar felt his stomach sink.

:They wouldn’t believe anything I told them.

:They don’t have to know who it came from. It would have to be an anonymous warning.

:I’m not sure that would be wise. What will the White do to the Elai? If they know the sea people have joined the Pentadrians they may attack them before the battle, in order to keep them out of it. This may be a matter best left concealed. I doubt the Elai will make much difference in the war, and if the White win at least there’s a chance of peace later.

:The White won’t attack them, Auraya assured him. They need to know their ships are in danger.

Mirar was beginning to wish he hadn’t raised the subject. It seemed wrong to be disagreeing with Auraya when she was trussed up in an underground prison for weeks while he was still an honored guest. And he hadn’t yet found a way to rescue her without his involvement being obvious and ruining the good will between the Dreamweavers and Pentadrians. But he couldn’t let guilt and pity stir him into doing something he didn’t agree with.

:Have you been able to skim minds as far away as the Circlian army? he asked, changing the subject. Have you overheard any of their plans?

:Not yet. I expect I’ll encounter the same problem I have with spying on Pentadrian war councils. Some of the gods will be there, and I’ll have to stay away in case they detect me.

Mirar felt a twinge of apprehension. He could only assume that if he couldn’t sense the gods when mind-skimming, as Auraya could, then they couldn’t sense him. Unfortunately, he was usually busy being shown about the Sanctuary or Glymma by Dedicated Servants whenever a war council was in progress so he never got a chance to spy on them anyway.

:You’ll just have to skim the minds of the Companions after the council, to see what they remember, he told her. And do the same for the advisers of the White.

:Yes, she agreed. Though Companion Reivan’s mind is nearly always on Nekaun.

:She’s completely infatuated, Mirar agreed. Yet I don’t think she actually likes him. I know her mistress doesn’t…Listen to us, gossiping like old women!

:It might be useful gossip, if we can bend the situation to our advantage.

:That’s true. Trouble is, I have no idea how.

:You’ll think of something. Or I will. Not much else to do right now.

Mirar’s heart twisted.

:Are you sure you’re all right?

:Yes. I’m fine. I can endure a bit of physical discomfort.

He did not point out that she was suffering more than that. Though she said nothing, he knew she must be living in constant fear. At any moment Nekaun might decide it was time to kill her. Mirar was not entirely sure why the Pentadrian leader hadn’t yet.

A sound caught his attention and he felt himself drawn out of the dream trance.

:I have to go, Auraya, he said. I will link with you tonight.

:You’d better, she said. Or I’ll…

But he didn’t hear the rest. The knocking at the door of his rooms was loud. Rising from the bed, he looked around and sighed.

I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to forge an understanding with these Voices, that they wouldn’t want me in their lands. Now that I find I’m welcome, I can’t enjoy the fact. If Auraya wasn’t here, I’d be delighted. But because she is their prisoner, I find myself thinking of them as our enemy.

It was a strange and complicated situation, and with the Circlians coming to wage war on the Pentadrians, it wasn’t about to get any simpler.