Authors: Jennifer Fallon
'We happened,' Cayal said, as he stepped off the rug.
It was almost completely dark, an early full moon already on the horizon. They were just out of sight of the fishing village that should have been located further along the beach. Given the look of this place, Declan wasn't hopeful they'd find much of anything at all. Or anybody.
'What do you mean — we happened?'
'Tide's up,' Kentravyon said, peering into the darkness. A steep cliff loomed over the small cove,
reaching up into a night that was silent and dead. Under normal circumstances, it would have been filled with the chattering of a million cicadas and other creatures of the twilight. There was nothing. Everything here was dead or had fled the rising water.
'This is the remains of a tidal wave,' Declan said, squatting down to pick up what looked like the broken leg off a child's wooden doll. There was no sign of any people, no bodies, nothing. Had they all been washed out to sea? How many people had lived here? 'Nothing magical did this.'
'Not directly,' Kentravyon agreed. 'But the Tide, in its own way, is an element like any other. You mess with one it affects all the others.'
'You mean us riding the Tide caused this?'
'It's hard to say for certain, but it's likely, given there haven't been any undersea quakes in the past few days,' Cayal said, walking a little way up the beach toward the tree line which was now a series of broken- off stumps.
Moonlight filtering through the clouds lit the darkened beach, making the spectre even more depressing. Adding to his woes, Declan's skin itched like he was allergic to air, and he was finding it hard to stand still. 'I thought you said this wouldn't happen? You said that's why we had to ride the magic carpet, because to ride the water itself was too dangerous.'
'Actually, nobody said it
wouldn't
happen. We just said riding a tidal wave in the direction of a populated area wasn't a good idea.' Kentravyon looked around curiously. 'It was probably you, Declan. You splash around in the Tide like a child playing in the shallows at the seaside and with about as much finesse. Still, we all have to learn, I suppose.'
Muttering to himself and shaking his hands as if to rid them of pins and needles, Kentravyon wandered off into the darkness, leaving Declan overcome by guilt —and trembling like a drunkard who couldn't recall
when he'd had his last drink. He tried to ignore the shaking.
Tides, how many people died here because
I'm in a hurry to get back to Glaeba?
Appearing much calmer than Declan felt, Cayal turned inland, studying the devastated terrain. 'Look,' he said after a moment. 'Up there.'
Declan turned to look in the direction Cayal was pointing. On the cliff top behind them, there was a light. It seemed to be waving back and forth like a signal. 'The survivors must have taken shelter on higher ground.'
'They're signalling us.'
Cayal nodded and started out toward the cliff. 'If anybody asks, we're off a boat moored out in the Bight.'
'Will they care?' Declan asked, hurrying to catch up to him.
'This is — was — a small village,' Kentravyon said, falling in beside Cayal and Declan as they picked their way across the saturated sand and debris toward the cliff. 'People in places like this are suspicious of strangers.'
That seemed a fair call, but there were other, more practical things to deal with before they started worrying about their cover story. 'We're going to help them?'
'I have money.'
'These people have lost their homes and their livelihoods,' Declan said. 'They'll need food and shelter and probably fresh water. Money isn't going to help.'
'What do you want us to do, then?' Cayal asked impatiently. 'Go up there and announce we're the Tide Lords of ancient legend, come to aid them in their hour of need?'
'You know, Declan, that might be just the thing,' Kentravyon said, looking over his shoulder at them — entirely too pleased at the prospect.
Declan glanced at Cayal, wondering what he was thinking. It was hard to tell. There was a look in Cayal's eyes that said he was suffering just as much from the effect of too much exposure to the Tide as Declan. Kentravyon seemed quite calm, but that wasn't actually very reassuring.
'Do you speak Stevanian?'
'Not really. A few words, maybe.'
Cayal nodded and turned to Kentravyon. 'If we help them, their gratitude should be
...
substantial.'
'Gratitude?' Declan asked. He stared at Cayal for a moment and then shook his head in disgust when he realised what the Immortal Prince had in mind. 'You're going to offer them help in return for what — sexual favours?'
'You're the one who thinks they won't be interested in money.'
Declan wished he had a response that didn't sound quite so hypocritical. Cayal was right: they had stopped here because the Tide was consuming them and they needed to relieve the tension. That a tidal wave had devastated the village before they arrived
—-
and had possibly been caused by them into the bargain — hadn't altered their basic and urgent need.
It just felt so wrong.
Kentravyon could obviously see what was bothering Declan and was completely dismissive of it. He shrugged and stopped for a moment, looking up at the cliff tops behind the hinterland.
'Do whatever you want. I'm going to visit the temple.'
'Do they have a temple here?' Cayal asked.
'I told them to build one the last time I was here. It should have been high enough to escape the waves.'
Declan glanced worriedly at Cayal before he answered Kentravyon, wondering if the madman realised that the last time he'd been here was probably several thousand years ago. 'There's been a couple of
Cataclysms since then, you know. I wouldn't get too fixed on the idea that they remember you.'
Kentravyon glared at him. 'I am God. Of course they will remember me.'
'You do whatever you want, Kentie, my old friend.' Cayal grabbed Declan's arm and pulled him away from Kentravyon, pushing him in the direction of the cliff and whoever was signalling them. 'The Rodent and I are going to do good deeds and save the day, and hopefully ourselves. See you in the morning. And remember, gods are a lot easier to venerate if they're easing their worshippers' pain, not contributing to it.'
'Hang on
—'
Declan began, not liking the idea of leaving Kentravyon to his own devices, but Cayal gave him no chance to say anything further. He put himself between Declan and Kentravyon and shoved him, none too gently, further along the beach.
Declan pulled free of Cayal and turned to face him. 'Tides, Cayal, aren't you going to stop him?'
'Why should I stop him?'
'We've done enough damage here. If he goes up there and they haven't built a temple to him
...'
'He'll be peeved. That doesn't make him homicidal. He'll probably start preaching to anybody who'll listen, truth be told, which — I will grant you — is a cruel fate indeed, but hardly a problem. Leave him be.'
'Lukys told us to stop him doing anything stupid.'
'And if he starts doing anything stupid, we will. In the meantime, we let it go. Kentravyon, the Tide
...
all of it.'
Declan stared back over Cayal's shoulder, certain no good could come of letting Kentravyon out of their sight. He felt out of sorts, uneasy, but he couldn't tell if his premonition of impending doom was real, or a consequence of riding the Tide for so long.
He watched Kentravyon's retreating figure, wondering how a man could command so much power and yet feel so helpless, all at the same time.
He turned to Cayal. 'I need a drink.'
'You know, Rodent,' Cayal said, shouldering his pack and turning for the village, 'this may be the first time in living history you and I are in total agreement.'
CHAPTER 14
The survivors had gathered on the cliff top, a motley bunch of some two hundred men, women and children, sitting around in small groups, all wearing the blank-eyed stare of people too overwhelmed to know what had happened to them. The arrival of strangers had an odd effect. As Cayal and Declan reached the top of the escarpment, some of the people turned from them, fearing they were simply more survivors wanting to share what little they'd managed to salvage from the deluge. Others, particularly the children, clustered around the strangers, asking for help. At least Declan assumed that's what they were asking. Even if he didn't speak the language, he could see the pleading in their eyes.
And then a woman approached them, perhaps the grandmother of some of the younger children. She shooed the children away and said something in a rapid stream of words Declan didn't understand. He guessed she was asking for something, because she pointed to the children. Even in a language he didn't know, there was no mistaking the desperate look in her eye or her pleading tone of voice.
'What's she asking?'
'For water, I think,' Cayal said. 'My Stevanian isn't what it used to be.'
'Are these all the survivors?'
Cayal asked the woman the question in her own language and then shook his head. 'She said the wounded have been taken to the temple.'
'It's still here, then,' Declan said, relieved to hear the news. The last thing they needed was Kentravyon getting snippy because his temple had been washed away. 'Can we help them?'
'How, exactly?' Cayal asked.
Declan looked around in the darkness at the clustered survivors. Other than a few torches offering flickering illumination, there were no fires. He supposed that meant any firewood they'd been able to find — assuming they'd even thought to collect any — was too wet to burn.
'We could try drying out some firewood for them, couldn't we? Organise fresh water?'
'From where?' Cayal asked, looking a little dubious. 'Their wells are probably filled with sea water.'
'Can't we get rid of the salt?'
Cayal stared at him for a moment, his expression thoughtful. 'Using the Tide? I suppose we could, now you mention it.'
Declan couldn't believe how relieved he was to hear it. The burden of guilt that came with the realisation he may have caused this disaster was proving quite a bit more than he'd bargained for. 'How do we do it?'
'We won't be doing anything of the kind,' Cayal said, shaking his head. 'Desalinating water takes a level of finesse you can't even imagine yet.' Without waiting for Declan to respond, he turned and spoke to the older woman for a moment, who nodded with relief and then beckoned another young woman forward. Cayal turned back to Declan. 'She's sending her granddaughter with you to find some dry wood. She doesn't know who we are, just that we've offered to help, so try not to be too obvious about it.'
'Why didn't you tell them you're a Tide Lord?'
'Because for one thing, they probably wouldn't believe me, and for another, we don't have time. So go and just pretend you're really good at collecting dry
wood. I'll see what I can do about their well, and then we can get some rest
...
and maybe,' he added, eyeing off the pretty, albeit blank-eyed, young woman who had come forward to help Declan with the firewood,
'...
score a little bit a
gratitude,
too. Either way, by morning we'll be gone, with a bit of luck, and these poor sods will be none the wiser.'
Declan took a step forward. 'We should check on the wounded in the temple, too.
We
could heal them.'
Cayal stopped him from taking another step by grabbing his arm. 'Steady on there, Rodent. Kentravyon's already on his way to them. Leave him be. You'll spoil his fun.'
Cayal had a point. And Declan needed to do something, he'd been standing still for far too long. He turned to the girl, whose eyes were dull with shock and grief. 'Ask her what her name is.'
Cayal questioned the young woman in Stevanian and then turned to Declan after she answered him. 'She says it's Gasandra.'
'Tell her we're here to help.'
'I already did. Go fetch the firewood, Rodent. I'll fix the well, and if it doesn't take too long, I may even see what I can do about food.'
Declan wasn't sure he believed Cayal's apparent willingness to aid these people, but there wasn't much he could do about it now. If he started questioning Cayal's motives, the immortal might decide not to help out of sheer perversity, so Declan turned to Gasandra and pointed inland. The girl nodded and turned to lead the way, leaving Declan with the uneasy feeling that this was all too easy; the willingness of Cayal and Kentravyon to aid the survivors of a tidal wave they'd probably caused was completely out of character for both of them.
CHAPTER 15
The next few hours passed in a blur for Cayal. They'd stopped here in Blackbourn to rest from the incessant drain of the Tide, only to have the Rodent insist they help the survivors of the tidal wave they'd almost certainly caused. Even his immortal regenerative ability strained to cope with the demands he was making on his stamina. Cayal remembered when he used to behave as Hawkes was now; when guilt was the only emotion he truly understood, and he was driven by little more than the need to assuage it.