A Bait of Dreams (7 page)

Gleia felt his muscles tensing and smoothed her hands over his shoulders. “He'll be all right. He's as tough and wily a trader as his father.” Temokeuu laughed and patted her hand. She snorted. “I'm not flattering you and you know it.” She moved away from him and began prowling about, feeling more restless than ever. “I was talking to Jevati this morning.”

“Oh?”

“It's idiotic to send a frail child all that way alone.”

“Obiachai, Gleia-my-daughter.” Smiling at her grimace of disgust, he went on. “It is sometimes idiotic, I must admit, but it gives us stability and makes us remember our origins when others forget.” He set the stylus beside the pile of papers and watched her stalk about, kicking at the hem of her cafta until it belled out around her body. “All this isn't just for Jevati, is it? I've watched you growing more restless as the winter passed.”

Gleia threw herself down on the bench. “I don't know. I have everything anyone could want. I've been happy here.”

“Been?”

She ran her hands through her hair until it was a wild tangle. “Everything I tell myself sounds not quite right. I'm not idle; I think I do help you, that it's not play you're making for me. I think I'm spoiled for peace.” She looked helplessly at him. “I'd be a fool to leave and I'd miss you terribly, Temokeuu-my-father.”

He pressed his hands on the desk top. “Most of the seaborn prefer the quiet order of the Cerns. But some of us have a taste for broken water.” Amusement lit his eyes and his mouth twisted into a smile. “I understand you better than you think, Gleia-my-daughter. You're bored. There's no challenge left here.”

She sat up, alerted by the look on his face.

He touched the pile of papers in front of him. “I want you to find Tetaki and see what he's doing. These …” He tapped his fingers in the center of the pile of reports. “These are several weeks old.” He turned grave eyes on her. “This will be your home when you need it again, Gleia-my-daughter, but now you must try the broken water.” He fell silent, frowned at the kala shell panels in the side walls. “I'll have the
Dragonfish
provisioned for you. There's no hurry. You might take the long way round, stop at Radnavar before you head out to Vrestar.”

She flung her head back, bubbling with excitement. “I told my little fish you were the wisest of men.”

His smile flashed again. “Not wise, Gleia-my-daughter, merely old in much foolishness.” Then he sobered. “Don't talk about this other thing. As far as anyone will know, you're out to see Tetaki. Jevati can do what she pleases about joining you. I don't think you'll have to warn her not to discuss her intentions.” He walked over to her and smoothed down the wild spikes she'd clawed into her hair. “I enjoy having you about the house. I want you free to come home.”

Gleia paced over the sand, looking repeatedly out toward the tall fingers of rock that poked through the seawater at irregular intervals. The barrier pillars. Horli was a bead of fire between two black fingers, turning wisps of fog into crimson smoke. She turned and trudged back up the slope to the beached
Dragonfish.
This was her second day of waiting and she was beginning to worry.

Horli drifted higher and Hesh poked up his deadly blue head. As a few clouds scooted amiably across a sky that already shimmered with heat, Gleia tucked the ends of her headcloth into the binding cord, dug her toes in the sand and hugged her knees against her chest.

The suns crept higher. Wavelets began lapping at the boat's stern. Shading her eyes with her hands, she searched the water until tears streamed down her cheeks and black spots danced like new-hatched teypolei in front of her. She rubbed her eyes.
A whole day late. Damn, it's hot.
Jerking the headcloth off, she dropped it into the boat and waded out to where the water was waist deep. One last time she looked around, then plunged under and came up sputtering but feeling a bit cooler.

“Gleia. Gleia.” Behind her, closer to the beach, Jevati crouched on her knees, the shallow water washing around her body. Gleia waded to her and helped her stand. Together they stumbled up the gentle slope to the patch of shade developing at the foot of the cliff. Jevati collapsed, arms dangling limply, resting her head on her drawn up knees. A few drops of blood oozed from a cut on one arm, leaking around a fine membrane that held the torn flesh together. After a few minutes the harsh explosions of breath grew softer. She raised her head and leaned carefully against the shaded rock.

“What happened?” Gleia touched the small webbed hand quivering on the sand. When Jevati shook her head, still sucking in great gulps of warm air, she said, “Take your time, little fish.”

They sat quietly in the widening patch of shade, enjoying a companionable silence as Jevati's strength gradually came back. The tide rose until the water's edge was a short distance past the
Dragonfish.
The little boat began to rock in time with the beat of the waves.

Jevati sucked in a deep breath, pushed up onto her knees and scanned the horizon, relaxing only when she saw nothing but the bright expanse of water foaming about the barrier pillars.

Her eyes on Jevati's troubled face, Gleia said, “What's wrong?”

“Can you launch the boat now?”

“It's coming up high heat. Are you strong enough for that?”

“We can't stay here.”

As soon as she had the
Dragonfish
running southeast on a broad reach, Gleia settled back and fixed her eyes on Jevati. “How'd you get that cut on your arm?”

Eyes half-closed, stretched out comfortably in the bottom of the boat, Jevati smiled sleepily. “Nag, nag.”

Gleia sniffed. “What happened?”

“Well, after they locked the doors against me, I walked down to the bay and started out.” She looked past Gleia, frowning slightly. “The strangest feeling. Like the whole city was empty when I knew it wasn't. Even the bay was empty.” She yawned suddenly. “Ohhhh, I'm tired. I could sleep a week.”

“Jevati!”

The seaborn stroked her throat slowly. “I was just passing Cernsha Sharoo, surface swimming for a change, when a miserable rat-nibbled dhoura came round the point. I swam right under the bow and some idiot tried to harpoon me.”

“What!”

“You're surprised?” She giggled and shook her head. “You should have seen me. He creased my arm and scared me stiff. I mean really stiff. Damn if he didn't pull in the barb and try again. Missed me completely that time, but I was bleeding and sending out signals for every blood-sniffer within a dozen stadia. I got myself into the island just in time to avoid being eaten by a cheksa.” She looked down at her arm, touched the film on the wound. “By the time this was set, the men on the dhoura had spotted me. I could hear them yelling. I went deep, found a ledge to rest on. Spent the night there. As soon as Horli stuck her head up, I was coming for you fast as I could.”

About mid-afternoon Jevati yawned and sat up. “Where are we?”

“Past Cliffend.”

Jevati looked out to sea. There was a dark smudge low on the eastern horizon. She sighed. “Cern Vrestar,” she said. “The cone is still smoking after six thaws.”

“Temokeuu told me …” Jevati's gasp interrupted her. The seaborn was staring past her. Gleia glanced back and saw the peak of a triangular sail. As she watched, the sail grew until most of the dhoura was visible. She heard a splash and swung around. Jevati was over the side, gone deep in her panic. Gleia turned
Dragonfish
and raced toward the line of barrier pillars. The water inside was too shallow for the dhoura and the spaces between pillars too narrow to admit the seagoer. Reaching along a course parallel to the pillars, she chewed on her lip and waited to see what would happen.

Jevati came up out of the water and thumped into the boat, dripping slathers of water into the bottom. “Sorry,” she said. “That thing scares me.”

Gleia laughed. “I'd say you had reason.” She watched the sail grow larger as the dhoura came dipping toward them, riding the brisk wind that ruffled the water into lightly foaming peaks. “Think they saw us?”

“Probably.”

“Well, better safe than fast. Unless you have a deadline.”

“No.” Jevati looked wistfully at the smudge darkening the sky in the east. “Maybe we could see Vrestar first once the dhoura's past.”

The dhoura came even with them about an hour later then started pulling ahead. In the west Horli's bottom edged behind the inland mountains. Hesh had moved a double fingerwidth across her middle and was sitting close to her left side, still several hours from touching down. Gleia looked at Jevati, raised her eyebrows. “Still want to go?”

Jevati nodded. “Wait a bit longer,” she said. “The dhoura's too fast and too close yet.”

Five discs came out of the smoke smudge and hovered above the dhoura like large black coins tossed into the air. Gleia glanced at Jevati. “I've never seen anything like that before.”

“Me either.” Jevati crouched in the bow watching as the discs circled slowly over the ship. “The dhoura's in trouble. Look at the way the sail is jerking.”

As they watched, three of the discs sank until they were behind the pillars and out of sight. The fourth continued to hover. The fifth came darting toward them. Jevati gasped and went overside again. Gleia swung the
Dragonfish
around and raced for the shore.

Gleia blinked and sat up. Her head throbbed. She clutched at her temples and groaned.

“Here.” A man's voice. She jerked around, then squeezed her eyes shut as the dull pain drilled through her brain. A hand closed around her wrist and pulled her arm down. She felt her fingers close around cool metal. With his hand covering hers, supporting her, she lifted the cup to her lips and gulped down several swallows of the stale water. Then he took the cup away. “Sit still a minute and the pain will lose its bite.” She heard him straighten and move away.

After a few minutes she opened her eyes, reluctantly convinced she would live. The pain was still there but it had subsided to a dull ache like that of a rotten tooth. She looked around. They were alone in a small bare cabin. She sat on the floor, her shoulders against a bunk bed built into the wall; when she managed to tilt her head back, she saw a second berth stacked above the one she was leaning on. In the far wall a small square porthole let some light creep through but no fresh air. The man was perched on the end of the lower bunk watching her.

He was thinnish and pale with a tangled thatch of hair so red it was a shriek of fire in the half-light. His eyes were pale, a nearly colorless gray—or maybe green or blue. She couldn't tell which. They changed as she watched. His face was a stubble-shadowed blunt triangle with clean-cut angles as neat and delicate as Jevati's. He sat with long legs pulled up, long narrow hands resting on his knees. His jacket had wide sleeves, the ends cut in square scallops to make a frame for hands and wrists—bright blue-green outside, dark yellow lining; his dark blue leg coverings—thick material that clung to the long muscles of his thighs—disappeared into knee-high boots. His jacket hung open, showing a wedge of pale, well-muscled chest.

Moving cautiously Gleia used the side of the bunk to pull herself up. “How'd I get here?” She swallowed and leaned her forehead against the side of the upper bunk. “Where am I anyway?”

“Thissik brought you.” She looked blank. “The disc riders,” he went on. “This is Korl's
Cuttlefish
.”

“A dhoura?”

He watched her a moment, pale changeable eyes touching her face and fisted hands. He nodded.

“Was I brought in alone?” She waited tensely then relaxed as he nodded once more.
Jevati got away,
she thought.
Madar be blessed.
“Who are you? How did you get here?”

“Shounach. Juggler. A humble passenger.” His mouth curled into a sudden broad smile. He cupped his hands, swayed them until she almost saw the bright balls circling above them. Then he dropped his hands on his knees and raised an eyebrow. “You?”

“Gleia.” A large shoulder bag made of a shiny green material, sprinkled with red and blue stars sat on her end of the bed. She lifted it, found it surprisingly heavy, set it on the floor—a floor that was rocking in long smooth swells—and settled in its place on the bed. “What's going on?”

“Better just wait to see what happens.”

“Not many choices available if you won't talk.” She sighed and leaned back. “I gather we're captives.”

The sky was dark with black smoke burping out of the cone in scattered lazy puffs. The waters of the bay swallowed the drifting smuts and occasionally spat back surges of gas. Gleia tried to breathe shallowly as she followed the sullen scowling crewmen off the dhoura onto the short pier near the last of the clanhouses, built around the inner arch of the bay. She shivered as she looked around at the tormented earth.
No wonder Vrestar's seaborn abandoned their holding.
The houses were drowned in pale ash that grew deeper as the wings of the arc approached the center, where congealed lava rose in waves around the tormented lumps that marked the council hall and the high market.

Their thissik captors prodded them toward the Endhouse. It was already dug clear of the ash. Farther on, Gleia could see small gangs of men working on the other houses. She glanced over her shoulder at the Juggler and saw him looking sharply around, his changeable eyes moving and moving, his pale face shuttered into inscrutability. He saw her watching and shook his head slightly.

Inside the house the walls had been washed down and the bright colors of the murals glowed like jewels in the light from short tubes that had replaced the oil lamps. The thissik herding them along were small creatures, dressed in gray overalls that concealed most of their bodies except for the long tapering tails held rigidly erect. Each thissik held a strange crooked rod in one hand. The sailors avoided these, rounding their shoulders and pulling in their arms whenever one of the thissik moved past.
Weapons of some kind,
she thought.