The Chaos Crystal (17 page)

folded behind his head, apparently asleep, and Kentravyon on his belly, his head hanging over the edge of the thatching, Tide fishing.

Tide fishing was a game Kentravyon appeared to have invented for the sole purpose of entertaining himself on this trip. As if the incident in Blackbourn had never happened, he would hang over the edge of their fragile platform, using Tide magic to keep himself balanced, one hand dragging in the water. His plan, as far as Declan could tell, was to catch fish. This was an almost impossible task, given the speed they were travelling and the fact that for there to be any chance of him even seeing a fish, let alone getting a hand to one they needed to be passing directly over a sizable school. He would occasionally direct Declan this way or that in the hope of finding a school near the surface, but so far he'd done little more than brush a few fish in passing with his fingertips. He didn't seem to mind the impossibility of the task, or even the silliness of it. It gave him something to do, and the more impossible the task the better. He was immortal, after all. Impossible tasks had the advantage of taking longer, and therefore keeping one amused for longer.

At least, that's how Kentravyon had explained things to Declan. And it was better than murdering wounded innocents.

'A little to the left!' Kentravyon ordered, without looking up from the water. 'I almost had one then.'

Declan shook his head, thinking that highly unlikely, but he did as Kentravyon asked and banked their magic thatched roof-section (a mode of transport Declan decided was not nearly as romantic as a magic- carpet), a little amazed at how easily he could make the roof turn now he'd had a bit of practice.

And then, without warning, the platform shattered, Declan lost his grip on the Tide and hit the water like it was made of cobblestones. He had time to wonder what they'd hit before being swamped by the waves.

Stunned and reeling from his sudden disconnection from the Tide, Declan fought his way to the surface and looked around, spitting out salt water, trying to figure out what had happened. The other two immortals were bobbing in the waves a few feet away. Cayal's expression was thunderous. Kentravyon, on the other hand, was looking delighted. He was clutching a large silver fish over his head, which wriggled and fought in his grasp. 'I caught one! Look! I caught one!'

'Tides, Rodent, what did you do that for?'

'I didn't do anything,' Declan said, ignoring Kentravyon. 'It was as if we slammed into a wall or something.'

Cayal made a noise of disgust, then turned and began to swim toward the distant shore as the last remnants of their thatched roof-section sank below the waves. A few moments later, still clutching his prized fish, Kentravyon did the same. The Tide Lords neither asked for a further explanation nor bothered to reprimand Declan for his carelessness. Puzzled by their odd behaviour, Declan eyed the coastline warily, thinking it was almost too far to swim. But then, what was too far, now he was immortal? In theory, he could survive here forever.

Declan struck out after Cayal. If Kentravyon or the Immortal Prince knew what had caused their accident, they weren't saying. But there was something in the way neither of them questioned Declan's assertion that he'd simply slammed into something, that made him think they knew what was going on.

Perhaps, if one of them was feeling generous, they might eventually tell him what it was.

'What do you think happened?' Declan asked, as he emerged from the water a couple of hours later. The effort of swimming ashore through the breakwater had cooled his blood somewhat, making it easier to

concentrate on their immediate dilemma. He still had no idea what had toppled them, and was hoping the others had some inkling. Kentravyon and Cayal were sitting on the deserted beach waiting for him. He had no idea where in Torlenia they were, other than a rough guess they were somewhere on the northern coast.

The others already had a fire going and had stripped off their wet clothes.
Why did they not use the
Tide to dry them?
Declan wondered. Bedraggled and soaked to the skin, his boots squelching, Declan began peeling off his own shirt as he approached the fire.

Cayal was sitting naked on the sand beside the fire. He looked up, squinting into the sun setting behind Declan. 'You weren't paying attention, is what happened.'

'It felt like we hit a wall.'

'What we hit, Rodent,' Cayal said, 'was a trip wire. Or the magic equivalent of one, at any rate.'

Declan's brows drew together in confusion as he pulled the shirt over his head and wrung it out. 'A magical trip wire? Who would set
...?'
He stopped as he realised the answer to his question without having to complete it. 'Brynden?'

Kentravyon nodded. He was also naked, his clothes spread out over the nearby rocks, drying in the remains of the day's sun. He was scaling the fish with a small dagger from his belt. Apparently his prized catch was going to be this evening's dinner. 'Tide's coming in fast this time. Didn't think it'd be up high enough for something like that yet.'

'But how could he know we were coming?'

'He wouldn't know,' Cayal said. 'He'd have set it around the whole continent. It's not that impressive a feat really — just a very thin magical barrier a few feet high, a couple of miles off the coast. The effort it takes to ride the Tide the way we've been doing means you probably wouldn't even feel it — unless you were

paying attention. And clearly, you weren't paying attention.'

'If you thought there was a danger of something like this happening, Cayal, why didn't you warn me?'

Cayal shrugged. 'I should have, but I keep forgetting how stupid you are. Sorry.'

Quashing the desire to even the score with Cayal using his fist, Declan decided to let that one pass. He turned to Kentravyon. 'So if Brynden set a trip wire, then he'll know we're here?'

'Without a doubt,' Kentravyon agreed.

'What will he do?'

'Depends on what else he's got going on here in Torlenia, I suppose,' Cayal said before Kentravyon could respond. 'He won't know who's tripped his alarm, just that somebody has. He might not even come to investigate if he's otherwise engaged.'

'He might send Kinta,' Kentravyon suggested. 'She's a fierce warrior, is our Kinta,' he added with a smile. 'If I ever decide to take a goddess, I could do worse than her.'

'Don't bother,' Cayal said, with an edge of bitterness in his voice. 'She's not worth the trouble. Believe me, I speak from experience.'

Kentravyon looked at him curiously. 'Lukys mentioned Kinta when he was bringing me up to date on everything I've missed these past few eons. You stole her from Brynden, didn't you? Or kidnapped her? Or something like that?'

'I didn't steal her. She was the one who wanted to leave Brynden.'

'That would not have made him happy.'

Declan couldn't help but smile at Kentravyon's mild observation. He sat down and began working off his sodden boots. 'That's something of an understatement, I hear.'

Cayal glared at him. 'You weren't there, Rodent, so why don't you keep your flanking unwanted opinion

to yourself?' The Immortal Prince turned to Kentravyon. 'Whatever way this plays out, we'd be well advised to be gone from Torlenia before he does come looking for us, though. You're right about how fast the Tide is coming in. I don't know that we've got the time to indulge in a pissing contest with Brynden.'

The older man sighed regretfully. 'What a pity, Cayal, that you wish to die right at the point where you appear to have gained some wisdom.'

'How do we keep going?' Declan asked.

Cayal looked at him with a puzzled expression on his face. 'What?'

'We need something to ride, don't we?'

'Yes.'

'Well, the roof-section is gone, the carpet's back in Stevania, and there doesn't seem to be much here,' Declan said, indicating the barren rocky landscape, 'from which to fashion a raft.'

'Kentravyon's got a dagger. We could skin you alive and use your hide stretched over a couple of bits of driftwood. I mean, you're the biggest one here, Rodent, so it makes sense to have you volunteer for it. And it's not like your hide won't grow back in a day or so. Might be a bit painful, though. What do you think, Kentravyon?'

The madman smiled. 'I think you've been anticipating an opportunity to make a suggestion like that ever since we left Stevania.'

Cayal grinned back at him. 'Doesn't mean it's not a good idea.'

'It's a stupid idea,' Declan said, finally getting off his right boot. 'Why don't we just use Kentravyon's cloak?'

Cayal seemed rather disappointed at the suggestion and looked to Kentravyon, hoping, Declan suspected, that he'd refuse. 'You don't have to give it up, you know, old boy. The Rodent's hide is plenty thick enough for our needs.'

'Perhaps,' Kentravyon agreed, 'but the time he'd take to heal is time we don't have.'

Declan found it more than a little disturbing to think the only thing stopping Kentravyon from agreeing to Cayal's ludicrous plan was the idea that the healing process required to recover from being skinned alive might slow them down a bit. He remembered the lines of dead on the cliff top in Stevania.
Tides, but
these creatures are callous monsters.

What does that make me?

'Then it's settled,' he said, making sure they had this clear in their minds and it didn't involve him being skinned. 'We move on, using Kentravyon's cloak. When we get to Elvere, we can find something a bit more suitable.'

'We won't be stopping in Elvere,' Cayal said. 'Or anywhere else in Torlenia if we can help it. Next stop after this will be the Chelae Islands.'

'But first we eat!' Kentravyon declared, holding up his gutted prize.

'There's not enough meat on that wretched thing to feed a starving child, Kentravyon,' Cayal pointed out with a frown.

'Then it's a good thing there are no starving children here,' Kentravyon said, tossing the fish into the flames. It hissed and smouldered for a few moments, the stench of burning scales making Declan glad he didn't have to eat if he didn't want to. If his survival had depended on that one small charred fish, he'd be in big trouble.

'If we're so pressed for time,' Declan said, tugging on his left boot, 'do we have time to eat?'

'We have time,' Cayal said. 'Unless Brynden's hiding over the next ridge, he's unlikely to find us before morning.'

'Unlikely?'

'There always a chance, Rodent, however unlikely. I mean
...
look at you.'

Declan pulled off his other boot and emptied the water out of it before answering. 'If you're looking to figure the odds, Cayal, you might want to wonder what the chances of me helping you anytime soon are going to be, if you keep trying to piss me off.'

Cayal didn't seem too bothered by Declan's warning. 'Maybe I'm trying to make
sure
you want me dead.'

'Making you suffer seems like a lot more fun right now, Cayal.'

'You'll change your mind,' Cayal told him confidently. 'Come the crunch you'll look at me and realise everything in your world would be better if I'm dead.'

'And you're counting on that?' 'Like it was —' Cayal stopped abruptly and looked around.

Declan felt it too — the ripples on the Tide that indicated another immortal was approaching. They both jumped to their feet, although Kentravyon paid no attention to the disturbance, too interested in his fish.

'That way,' Cayal said, pointing inland.

Declan turned, squinting into the darkness that was slowly overtaking the land. 'Can you tell who it is?'

Cayal shook his head. 'It's not Brynden. The ripples aren't strong enough.'

'Kinta then?'

'Probably.'

They waited as the immortal drew closer, her presence humming along Declan's still hypersensitive veins as if they were taut wires singing in a high wind. A few moments later, a chariot appeared on the top of the dune behind them, pulled by a matched pair of greys. The person driving the chariot wore a shroud in the Torlenian fashion, which led Declan to assume that it was a woman. She brought the chariot to a stop and looked down over the beach for a moment, before

turning the horses into the dune and plunging down the slope toward them.

The men waited for her as she drove toward them on the damp sand. After stopping the horses a few feet from their fire, she alighted from her chariot, but made no move to identify herself. Dark eyes through the slit of her embroidered shroud took in Cayal's naked figure with barely a second glance, spared a curious look at Kentravyon sitting on the sand roasting his fish and then she turned her attention to Declan.

Lifting the shroud to reveal a statuesque blonde woman wearing a tooled and gilded leather breastplate and a short leather warrior's skirt, she stared at him, frowning.

'I am Kinta,' she said in Torlenian. 'Consort to My Lord Brynden, the true Imperator of Torlenia. I know who these two are and the trouble they bring with them. Just who the hell are you?'

CHAPTER 18
 

Kinta proved to be everything Arkady's reports about her claimed — and then some. She was a tall woman, easily as tall as Arkady, but much more statuesque, her body forced into its optimum form by her immortality. She was beautiful, regal and thunderously angry, both at the intrusion into Brynden's realm by these uninvited guests and the realisation that someone was out there making new immortals. It was only on hearing that he was Lukys's son and Maralyce's great- grandson that she seemed to begrudgingly accept, if not Declan himself, then at least the truth of his origins.