All The Turns of Light (19 page)

He paused, erased a line, scowled at the pad, and began to draw again. “I took the name Aaron Sanders,” he said. “I pretend to be the scandalous son of a wealthy Phendelit family, sent away to stay out of trouble for a while. I have friends. People greet me, say hello. Tirlin is my home, but I have kept a secret, and for that, I am ashamed.”

“You need not be,” said Donchen. “Perhaps by keeping your secret, you guarded us all.”

“No. Even if that is true, I acted out of fear. I am still perhaps a Vonat, in my heart,” he said. “Trust no one. We learn that very early. The only secret you can trust is the one you never speak.”

He took a deep breath. “But if I am to die, I will not die a coward,” he said. “I tell you now. You, Mage, because perhaps you will know what to do with it.”

“I’m listening,” Meralda said, as gently as she could.

“When the Great Library burns, we were told to run inside, save the books,” he said, as his voice began to waver. “All is smoke. Heat. Shouting and confusion. I ran, like all the rest, gathered what books I could carry, ran out. They met us with swords. We ran back in. All night, we ran, until most choke or burn.”

Meralda shuddered.

“Beams fall around me. The fire burned my scalp, melted my shirt to my chest. I was lost inside the Library, deep in the forbidden parts of it. I felt a draft, cool air! I stumbled toward it, and a burning man thrust a stack of books in my hands. Somehow, I escaped, blinded and burned, but alive. I left the books with the masters, and they struck me, and left me for dead.”

“What an awful story,” Meralda said.

“It is, how do you say, just another day in Vona,” said the man, with a small shrug. “I lived. When I woke, I discovered a small book beneath me. I had fallen upon it. I was alone, and though I still do not know why, I took this book and hid it in a crevice in my chamber. Over the days, I began to read it.”

He shook his head sadly. “Such foolishness. I have seen men hung for far smaller infractions. My terror grew as I read the text, because I realized it was not a mere volume of history or an obscure magical treatise. It was a minor book of prophecy, which made reference to
the
Book of Prophecy, which only the Lords are allowed to name.”

The Vonat’s moving pencil halted.

“I am a fool,” said Kurbus. “A fool, to still be ruled by irrational fear. I did not understand all of what I read,” he said. “But this much was clear. An enemy lurks, out there in the dark. It nearly devoured our people once before, and only a few escaped to these lands, to hide. The book spoke of the Unmaker, who will reveal our hiding place to the enemy through use of
puckang vummi
.” He hesitated, his pencil suddenly still, as he groped for words. “The power of unmaking? The not-magic? There is no precise equivalent in your tongue.
Unmagic
. Perhaps that shall suffice. Yes. The unmagic will summon the enemy. When the enemy returns, all of creation will be consumed. Consumed, in the span of a single day.”

The chill Meralda had felt since her dream-walk in Shadow grew colder and reached suddenly down to her toes and up through her scalp. The Vonat’s unblinking eyes bore into hers. “There’s more, isn’t there?” she asked.

The Vonat nodded. “This is my secret,” he said. “In the book. The Unmaker, it was written, will be a woman of the Realms,” he said. “Her familiar will be named
urguck olu
, the Fiend of Many Eyes. It was said the Unmaker will command two black dragons, and she will bring on Doomsday by crossing the Great Sea itself.”

Meralda shivered. She tried to fight it, and failed. Donchen squeezed her hand, but the cold did not retreat.

“I know of your familiar,” said the Vonat. “Twenty-nine eyes, is that the number?” His expression hinted briefly at sadness. “My former countrymen believe you are the Unmaker, Mage Ovis,” he said. “The Unmaker, and the Fiend, aboard an airship bent on crossing the Great Sea. That is why they attacked. Why they will attack again. They believe all life in the world depends on slaying you, on bringing this airship down. I am sorry.”

“In my experience, prophecy is written to be interpreted with a convenient slant,” said Donchen.

Kurbus chuckled briefly. “Just so. But I am not here to convince you of the validity of an old book. I am here to point out that my former countrymen hold this text as sacred, and they will stop at nothing to prevent this vessel from completing its journey.”

“Surely they have already tried, and failed with each attempt,” Meralda said.

“We have not yet seen the
kuhat vulung
,” said Kurbus. “It has been whispered about for centuries, Mage Ovis. A work of dark magic so monstrous and fierce even the Lords fear it. Sorcerers have spent millennia crafting its might, perfecting its power. Rivers of blood have fed it. Rivers of blood, and mountains of bones. It is coming, Mage. If you hear nothing else I have said, hear this—it is coming.”

“Kuhat vulung,” repeated Meralda. She struggled to keep her voice from shaking.
Tim spoke them in the land of the dead, she recalled, and she told me their meaning. Black death. Destroyer.

So that wasn’t a mere dream.

And this prophecy isn’t just nonsense.

Kurbus shrugged. “I do not know what form the black death will take,” he said. “But every Vonat has heard the whispers, the rumors. The Dark Lords have been grooming it, preparing it, against this very day. If there is one thing they are good at, it is shaping the means of mayhem and destruction. Fear it, my friends. Be watchful.”

Neither Meralda nor Donchen spoke. The Vonat continued to sketch for a moment, but then he put his pencil behind his right ear and looked upon his drawing.

“It is not my best work,” he said. “Nonetheless, it is my gift to you.”

He turned the drawing pad around, and winked.

The Vonat had depicted Donchen–the real Donchen, not Jeffrey Sink—and Meralda, and put them on his couch. But instead of sitting a foot apart, the drawing showed Meralda’s head on Donchen’s shoulder, as they looked into each other’s eyes and embraced.

“Oh,” Meralda said, blushing a deep crimson despite her internal chill. “How, um, detailed.”

“A masterpiece,” said Donchen. “We thank you.”

Donchen took the drawing. The Vonat, at last, smiled.

“It is a privilege to depict true love,” he said. “Perhaps I am the son of monsters, with a monster’s icy heart. Even so, I am not blind.”

“There are no monsters,” said Donchen. “At least not here. We will do what we can to convince the King we are still under a grave threat.”

“Thank you,” Meralda said. She glanced toward the door. “We should be going.”

The Vonat nodded. “You are always welcome in my home,” he said. “Both of you.”

He rose and limped to his door. Donchen took in a breath, and then grabbed Meralda’s hand. Again she saw Donchen vanish, but her own form remained perfectly visible to her.

Kurbus asked the guards if he could have one more stroll about the ramp to ease an ache in his injured leg. They agreed, ambled inside without seeing the Vonat’s visitors, and soon they were gone.

After a few minutes, Donchen spoke the word that subdued the ward spells in the hall.

Meralda closed the Vonat’s door, and they hurried away. The passageways were empty until they reached the
Intrepid’s
flying launch, the
Lucky Jenny
, which hung ready to depart down the load ramp once the small sleek craft was lowered and fitted for flight. There, they hid in the shadows behind the
Jenny’s
hull as a pair of night watch Guards strolled past.

Donchen watched them intently until they were well out of sight.

“I do hope you didn’t take all that Unmaker nonsense to heart,” he said. “I imagine one could find a half dozen directly contradictory prophecies, if one were given access to a Vonat library.”

“Isn’t that why you wanted me to hear his story?” asked Meralda.

“I only wanted to let you decide whether his warning about the kuhat vulung has any merit,” replied Donchen. “I believe we should change course, in case this black death is indeed pursuing us. But I am in no position to bring any such warning to Captain Fairweather or the King.”

“The two black dragons Kurbus described could be the staves.” Meralda crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “It’s all too close to be coincidence. The Great Sea. Black dragons. Me, a woman of the Realms.”

Donchen raised an eyebrow. “The staves only take the shape of crows. But–a woman, are you?” he asked. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Meralda turned away. Donchen caught her up in a swift embrace. “Forgive me, woman. But I do know you, and there is no evil within you. You are no more the prophesied destroyer of worlds than I am a seedling of Mug’s.”

“The Vonat never said the Unmaker intended to bring ruin,” she said. A badminton racquet appeared just above the
Jenny
’s curving hull, and would have struck the deck with a clatter had Donchen not caught it. “What if
that,
” Meralda said, pointing at the racquet, “is just the beginning? What if the next thing that appears is a piece of the sun?”

“I cannot explain this,” said Donchen, placing the racquet gently aside. “But neither do I find it particularly threatening. I believe you are at the center of the phenomenon, yes, but I also believe you are controlling it, to some extent.”

“You’ve been talking to Mug.”

“No,” said Donchen. “It just seems rather obvious.”

“Obvious? How?”

“Because a piece of the sun has not appeared. Neither has a dangerous volume of pure vacuum. Or a basket of serpents.”

Meralda frowned. “Please don’t give it any ideas.”

Donchen nodded, his eyes suddenly serious.

“I was flippant before,” said Donchen. “It is a bad habit I have. My apologies.”

“Flippant?” asked Meralda. “When?”

Donchen smiled. “When we were here earlier tonight. When you asked me why I came. I believe I made reference to the exorbitant wage commanded by a ship’s cook.”

Meralda smiled wearily. “I knew what you meant.”

Donchen drew her in closer. “I should have said I came because I love you, and if you are to fly around the world, then I shall surely follow. You are my life, Meralda Ovis. My life and my heart, now and forever, if you will have me.”

Meralda’s heart skipped a beat. But only one. Her lips met Donchen’s, and even when a leather shoe went bouncing down the
Jenny’s
hull her world contained nothing but Donchen and the
Jenny
and the moonlight.

Some time later, after the guards made another round, Meralda pulled away from Donchen and smiled at him, touching her finger to his lips.

“What you said,” she whispered. “It had a certain ring of formality about it.”

He nodded. “An ancient custom, rarely observed even among my former countrymen,” he said. “It was called
nen hi peng
. The gift of one’s heart. Spoken by a man to a lady, announcing his intention to pursue her hand in marriage. Forsaking all others, forever, even if she spurns his advances later.”

Meralda grinned. “I have every confidence the numerous charms of the
Intrepid’s
number one line cook will prove irresistible.”

Before Donchen could reply, a familiar buzzing sounded up the stairwell.

“I swear I shall weld a bell to that infernal flying cage,” Meralda said.

Donchen laughed and stole another quick kiss. Then he and Meralda emerged from the shadows behind the
Jenny.

Mug ascended, coils buzzing. “Well there you are, posing casually in front of the flying launch,” he said, bringing his cage to a hover. “No, you two certainly haven’t been snuggling and nuzzling in the nearest convenient secluded corner.”

“Mug,” Meralda said, her hands on her hips. “It’s far too late to be so insulting. What is it?”

“Tower called,” he said. “He sounds worried, in his emotionless stack of stones way. Wants to speak with you. I can tell him to wait until morning if you haven’t finished your badminton match.”

Donchen smiled. “I’ll pop back around the kitchen, make us a tray of cheese and fruit. I have a feeling you’re in for another late night, my dear.”

“I’ll just fly on ahead and tell Tower you’re on the way,” Mug said. “Give you two a chance to say goodbye. I could also ask the Captain to pop by later, as I seem to recall airship captains can perform wedding ceremonies, and –”

Mug’s cage swerved, easily avoiding the shoe Meralda threw.

“Like I said, going to tell Tower you’re on the way,” he said, as he flew at speed down the stairs.

Before Meralda could say a word, Donchen swept her up in another firm embrace.

* * *

“Greetings, Mage,” said Tower, from Goboy’s Glass. His voice was softer than it had been in previous communications. Bursts of noise, like the rushing of waves, peppered the conversation, making some of Tower’s words hard to understand.