The Destroyer Goddess (76 page)

It was a while before he reached the southern end of the bay and found the rocks upon which he had washed ashore yesterday.

It was still there. Right where he'd left it.

He picked up the oar which was Sharifar's gift to him. She had already claimed the sea king, so there must be another reason she had returned this
stahra
to him now. 

As Sharifar floated in the enchanted Guardian fire on Dalishar, she had said to Mirabar,
His gifts will lead him home
.

Water magic. The gift inherited from his father. The gift that Tansen hated. Zarien would not go thirsty on his journey, even if the longed-for arrival of the rains had yet to swell the rivers and ponds inland. He knew he would find whatever he needed along the way. It was one of his gifts.

It's time for you to seek your true father
, Sharifar had told him when she first sent him ashore. He later grew to believe she meant Tansen, to whom this
stahra
had led him before. But now he knew it had led him to Tansen as the man who would search for Ronall, when he disappeared from Shaljir on his strange quest for death, and eventually help Zarien bring him to Sharifar.

No, Tansen was not his true father. Now Zarien understood. And now he knew why Sharifar had given the
stahra
back to him. She was fulfilling her part of the bargain. He had brought her the sea king. Now she would send him to his father.

He picked the
stahra
up off the rocky shore and held it in his hands, feeling its familiar weight, reacquainting himself with its texture. 

If Tansen had killed his bloodfather, why wouldn't he kill his bloodson? Zarien shivered when he remembered the shock and revulsion on Tansen's face after he saw Zarien heal Najdan and realized what it meant. Zarien remembered Tansen advancing menacingly on him, his expression full of anger and hostility, then shaking him and shouting into his face when he suspected the truth about Zarien's parentage.

Zarien remembered thinking in that instant that Tansen was going to kill him, and that only Najdan's interference and Mirabar's presence stopped him from doing it.

He killed Armian, so why wouldn't he kill me?

Zarien hadn't wanted to believe Searlon, but Tansen himself admitted it was true. He'd done it. Murdered his own bloodfather.

By all the winds...

Armian's father was a waterlord. How much more would it gall Tansen that Zarien's father was Kiloran?

And he knows I have inherited Kiloran's power. He saw.

Armian had trusted Tansen, and that was why he was dead.

Zarien wanted to live, so he mustn't make the same mistake.

He turned the
stahra
over slowly in his hands, knowing his bonds with the sea were being dissolved. He must live on land, and he only knew of one person who would protect him from Tansen.

"I want to meet my father," he whispered.

The
stahra
quivered in his hands, then began leading him west.

He was finally going home.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Unity among the herd makes 

the lion lie down hungry.

                        —Moorlander Proverb

Kiloran fought despair as he had fought every other enemy in his life; but it was the most ruthless foe he'd ever known, and unlike other enemies, it did not bleed when he fought back.

He had lost Cavasar. The defeat was now conclusive. Hundreds and hundreds of those who'd been loyal to him were dead. Many of his assassins were lost. Guardian magic now shielded the city's water supplies, thwarting every effort he made to push it away. 

Meriten was dead, too, and so the Shaljir River, as well as all its surrounding territory, now belonged to the loyalists. Even Kiloran's own traditional territory was threatened. So far, he defended it; but with so many of his allies dead, the loyalists now had far more people and power to direct specifically against
him
. 

He was losing men nightly to ambushes and skirmishes. And he was—yes, he must admit it to himself privately—growing tired. The constant struggle to ward off the Guardians pushing at his power was exhausting. Moreover, whoever was helping Baran try to take the mines of Alizar and the Idalar River from him, they were getting stronger. They were wearing him down.

And now the long rains had come, ending the season when Sileria could not survive without Kiloran's mercy. 

Even worse, he'd heard the rumors spread by pilgrims returning from their sojourn on Mount Darshon. The new Yahrdan had been born and was already being acknowledged as Dar's chosen ruler, the number of his followers increasing every single day. Meanwhile, the people of Sileria turned on Kiloran for violating Sanctuary and killing a woman. 

And she was the
wrong
woman
.

Here in the depths of Kandahar, where he had launched the various schemes that had made him the most powerful waterlord in the Society and which had ensured that he had maintained that stature for many years, he was starting to feel trapped, even desperate. 

Had he been wrong about his destiny? Even he, who had wrested victory out of so many discouraging situations over the years, was losing heart and felt unable to measure what could now be gained by persisting.

Could he, alone against so many enemies and with so few allies left, still triumph? 

Kiloran suddenly felt old. Old and alone.

A young assassin entered the hall to disturb his brooding. The lad crossed his fists and bowed his head. "
Siran
, someone is approaching."

Kiloran lifted his brows in silent inquiry.

"A boy." The assassin looked puzzled. "Sea-born, it's reported. Tattooed. Carrying an oar."

His heart stopped for a moment, and then began thudding loudly. "Is Searlon with him?"

"No,
siran
. He's alone."

Kiloran was briefly distracted by that news. Where was Searlon? What was the boy doing here unescorted?

He brushed aside these thoughts. What mattered was that the boy was here. Renewed optimism flooded Kiloran. How could he have sat here moping so pathetically when he knew Searlon was busy accomplishing his most important, most secret plan? Yes, the plan that could still change his fate. The alternative which no one even suspected. 

"No one is to interfere," Kiloran instructed the assassin. "Let the boy come to the lake. I will admit him."

When he felt someone approach the water that he commanded, he began whirling it around with his power, spinning it and then hardening it to create a crystalline staircase which led into this very room. He sensed the moment the boy set his foot on the first step.

He also sensed what he had hoped to feel ever since learning of Zarien's existence: the cold, clear gift of another water wizard. Yes, when Zarien's foot touched the ensorcelled stair, Kiloran immediately sensed the water's response to the boy's inherent, ungoverned power.

He has it!

Kiloran had more than a son. He had an heir.

There would be no more morbid brooding. No more time wasted in regretting what was lost. He and his son had so much work to do together. So much to accomplish and achieve.

This turn of events would come as a terrible blow to Tansen. Perhaps hurt his judgment and damage his effectiveness. As for Baran... Ah, what mistakes
wouldn't
that emotional madman make once he learned that Alcinar's son was here, in Kandahar, with Kiloran?

Yes, I can still win. I can turn this around. Anything is possible now
.

He would teach his son everything he knew, so that even if he died before achieving unchallenged rule of Sileria, he would die knowing that his heir would achieve it.

The boy came into his presence now, descending the stairs. First one foot appeared, then the other. He was indeed carrying an oar. Kiloran smiled in puzzled amusement. Then he saw the rest of his son. A good-looking boy. Dark, dark-eyed, slim, and wiry. He wouldn't be a tall man, but he would be a memorable one. His face was intelligent and sensitive beneath those sea-bound tattoos. His eyes were curious, quick, and momentarily filled with awe as he entered Kiloran's underwater palace and looked around.

Their eyes met, and Kiloran liked the courage he saw there.

"You have the look of your mother," Kiloran said without thinking. Yes, the boy was very like Alcinar.

Zarien held his gaze. "Hello, father."

Kiloran smiled. Oh, yes, he had everything to fight for now.

"Welcome home," he said to his son.

Mirabar stood on the balcony of Santorell Palace next to Elelar, acknowledging the cheering crowds in Santorell Square while her mind dwelled yet again on Zarien.

How could she face Tansen? What could she tell him?

After Zarien disappeared, she made pilgrims, praise-singers, and sea-born folk spend three full days searching for him. No one had seen anything, and no one could find any trace of him.

What will I tell Tansen?

Had Zarien thrown himself into the sea and drowned? Why couldn't they find a body? Had he run away? Had another of Kiloran's assassins found him? 

After three days, she knew they wouldn't find Zarien. Moreover, word had spread that Gaborian was there, and she knew it might be only a matter of time before someone from the dwindling Honored Society launched an attack on them. She didn't know where Tansen was, nor how to get word to him. All she could do was get Elelar safely to Shaljir, then go to Belitar to await Tansen's arrival.

How can I face him? I've lost his son!

"You're scowling at them," Elelar said to her. "Smile and wave."

"Huh? Oh!" Mirabar stopped scowling at the cheering crowd and did as advised.

The people of Shaljir were gathered here to celebrate the birth of the prophesied ruler, whom Mirabar—backed up by Jalan and other witnesses to Gaborian's birth—proclaimed as the child foreseen in her visions and chosen by Dar to lead Sileria.

"I think that's enough," Elelar said, turning away from the adoring crowd at last.

Mirabar followed her inside with relief. Elelar handed the baby in her arms over to Faradar. Radyan was nearby, as he always seemed to be ever since their arrival in Shaljir. Mirabar could tell by the way he looked at Faradar—and she at him—that protecting Gaborian was only his
other
reason for being underfoot all of the time. Still, Mirabar liked him, and she was glad that Faradar was finding happiness.

Later today, the members of the Alliance who had set up a temporary government here would meet with a large group of Guardians, as well as with Radyan and other available leaders of the loyalists, to start determining who would govern the country while Gaborian was too young to do so. 

Mirabar would stay for the first few meetings, but then she and Najdan would have to leave for Belitar. She didn't know when Tansen would arrive there, and she didn't want him to have to wait for her.