Vengeance of Dragons (Secret Texts) (19 page)
BOOK: Vengeance of Dragons (Secret Texts)
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And of course they asked what it was, and how they would know when they’d found it. They pointed out that they didn’t have a boat, since the ship’s crew had taken the longboats. They complained bitterly about the gorrahs that circled in the water below the
Wind Treasure
hoping prey would fall within their reach.
Wind Treasure
hoping prey would fall within their reach.
Crispin accepted no excuses, and put a quick end to complaints by assigning complainers to the first shift. He pointed out that the other airible would be bringing back its boatload of captives soon, and with them the boat. He smiled.
And then he assigned the Zaith boy who’d taken such pleasure in his awkwardness on the ladder to handle the grappling hook. He watched the dark forms of the gorrahs circling in the water beneath the ship and thought they would make the boy’s chances of seeing his home in Calimekka again slim ones.
With his orders given, he climbed back up the ladder into the airible—an easier task than climbing down. There he sat down to a pleasant meal with the airible’s pilot and Andrew and the contingent of Galweigh Wolves who had insisted on accompanying the expedition.
“Did you find Ry?” Andrew asked as the servant passed out plates. The men and women loaded them from dishes of chilled cubed monkey and dipping sauce, fingerling trout, sweetmeats, and fried goldbeetles over strips of jellied mango.
“No one stayed aboard the ship.” Crispin took a sip of iced wine and tried the goldbeetles. Deliciously crunchy, and not too salty—a tricky balance to get right. He would have liked to keep the Galweigh cook—easy enough to do once the Galweighs were dead. But cooks did taste their cooking, didn’t they? Such a waste. “So either he’s already been eaten by the gorrahs, or Anwyn’s crew is picking him up now.”
Shaid Galweigh took a few of the goldbeetles and sampled them, then settled on the monkey and sauce. “Disconcerting that they’ve hidden the Mirror so far.”
“We’ll have it in our hands before the end of the day,” Crispin said.
Andrew said, “When we overflew them, I thought I saw three longboats on their aftercastle. But after the wind, I’ve only seen the boat the gorrahs destroyed and the one the
Eagle
is chasing. So what happened to the third?”
Eagle
is chasing. So what happened to the third?”
Crispin put down his knife and pick and stared at his cousin. “
Three
longboats. No. I’m sure there were only two.”
Three
longboats. No. I’m sure there were only two.”
Andrew grinned. “That’s the funny thing about you, Crispin. You’re always so sure about everything—even the things you’re wrong about. That ship is a Rophetian galleon. They carry more than forty people, and the Rophetian longboats’re built to hold twenty. If you look at the aftercastle, you’ll see the tie-downs and the spaces for three boats. And three places where the wood isn’t bleached as light—all three in the shape of longboats.”
Crispin looked down at the back of the ship, at the broad deck where a mast had once risen, and where, clearly, three boats had once rested. Three.
Andrew tugged at the long black braid over his left ear, the only hair on his otherwise shaved skull, and said, “Remember, I
earned
this braid.”
earned
this braid.”
“You skulked around docks with a bunch of illiterate bums,” Crispin said, forgetting for the moment the Galweighs who sat observing the two of them.
“I sailed with the Sloebenes. We pirated any number of Rophetian galleons, and they had one longboat for every mast.”
Crispin leaned toward his cousin, meal forgotten. “Then you tell me, you who know everything about ships and the sea: If there were three boats, why are there only two now? Eh? You have an answer for that?”
Andrew shrugged his massive shoulders and giggled. “Me, I just figured some of the people got away.”
“We would have seen them, you mare-dick. Look down. We can see everything that happens in the whole region—that’s the advantage of approaching by air. We can’t miss things.” He rolled his eyes and leaned back on his couch.
Andrew had proven time and again that he was an idiot—useful as brute muscle, with the occasional moment of cleverness. But he was never reliable. Never. The
streune
-bolt that had disintegrated the mast and part of the decking had destroyed one of the three boats as well; that seemed obvious enough to Crispin. Ry was in the boat that had been taken captive, or he was in the one that had been capsized by gorrahs. Either way, he was dead. Dead already or dead in the Punishment Square, and Crispin was willing to consider either a happy outcome.
streune
-bolt that had disintegrated the mast and part of the decking had destroyed one of the three boats as well; that seemed obvious enough to Crispin. Ry was in the boat that had been taken captive, or he was in the one that had been capsized by gorrahs. Either way, he was dead. Dead already or dead in the Punishment Square, and Crispin was willing to consider either a happy outcome.
Wasn’t he?
“We disintegrated the third boat with magic,” he said.
Andrew giggled. “Did we, did we, did we? Are you so sure that you’d bet your place as head Wolf? Eh? Are you that sure, cousin? Because if you’re wrong, it’ll come to that ere long.”
The Galweighs were making a show of eating their food and ignoring him and Andrew, but they were, Crispin knew, hanging on every word. Dissension between Sabirs could only work to their good. And Sabir failures in carrying off the joint mission would only make them look better when they got home. Their smiles were hidden, but Crispin knew they were there.
So he ignored Andrew’s question, instead asking one of his own. “Why don’t you think we destroyed the third boat?”
Andrew’s grin grew broader. “Don’t want to bet me, eh? Don’t want to take a little chance that stupid Andrew might know something you don’t know? Smart of you, Cris. Smart, smart, smart.”
“Why, Andrew?” He spent a moment imagining Andrew in the Punishment Square, the four horses ready to leap toward each of the four points of the world. That calmed his temper enough that he could say, “I’m willing to concede you might be right.”
“How generous.” For just an instant, Andrew’s dark eyes looked at him with unnerving intelligence—but that penetrating gaze vanished, shattered by another idiotic giggle. “I know we didn’t get one of the three ships because no one would have tried to swim to safety through all those gorrahs. And there were no people on board when you got down there—you said as much yourself.”
Andrew was right. That was something new.
“But perhaps the ship didn’t carry a full complement of crew. Perhaps there were only forty people on board. Or less.”
“Rophetians have no trouble keeping crew,” Andrew said. “No trouble, no trouble, none at all. Lads sign with ’em when they’re juicy boys, and die with ’em as old, old men. Rophetians don’t run ships light—they figure long shifts make the men unhappy, and unhappy men get careless. They might be light on crew if they ran into trouble across the sea, and you could bet that way and maybe you’d win. But me . . . I’m betting the third boat is out there. I am, I am.” He took a huge bite of fingerling trout, chewed it, and grinned around the food at Crispin. “I’m betting Ry got away.”
Crispin studied his cousin from the corner of his eye, and considered what a problem he was becoming. He wasn’t reliable, but Crispin began to believe that the perverted bastard wasn’t as stupid as he usually seemed, either. He might be smart enough to double-cross Anwyn or Crispin.
Before long, perhaps Andrew needed to have an accident.
Meanwhile, Crispin could enjoy the predicament the Galweighs were finding themselves in. Their eyes drooped—he knew they would feel like they had eaten too much, like their bellies were full and their heads were stuffed with rags. He felt a mild version of those symptoms himself. Already Shaid yawned and murmured something about having eaten too much, and one of his Wolves chuckled and said she felt like she could sleep for a week.
Crispin grinned and said, “Don’t leave this marvelous food uneaten. Your cook deserves a reward for his magnificent repast.” It would probably have to be posthumous, of course.
Veburral
tasted almost pleasant—nutty, in fact. It stood up well to heat. Unlike some poisons, it remained deadly after frying, baking, or boiling. Unlike some venoms, it did not have to be injected into the bloodstream to be effective—a man eating it in moderate quantities would die nicely. Best of all, however,
veburral,
derived from the venom of the copper flying viper whose range was to the Sabir settlements on the Sabirene Isthmus, could be taken in increasing doses over a period of months or years, and the taker could build up a complete immunity to it. Most of the Sabirs took regular doses as a matter of course—and since the Galweighs didn’t have access to the snakes, they didn’t have access to the poison.
tasted almost pleasant—nutty, in fact. It stood up well to heat. Unlike some poisons, it remained deadly after frying, baking, or boiling. Unlike some venoms, it did not have to be injected into the bloodstream to be effective—a man eating it in moderate quantities would die nicely. Best of all, however,
veburral,
derived from the venom of the copper flying viper whose range was to the Sabir settlements on the Sabirene Isthmus, could be taken in increasing doses over a period of months or years, and the taker could build up a complete immunity to it. Most of the Sabirs took regular doses as a matter of course—and since the Galweighs didn’t have access to the snakes, they didn’t have access to the poison.
They would drift off to sleep one by one, and Crispin and Andrew would carry them off to the sleeping quarters and tuck them in. Alone in their darkened rooms, they would die quietly, without alerting the Galweigh loyalists, who wouldn’t suspect that anything was wrong until the Sabir loyalists and those Galweighs who could be bought killed them.
Their impending deaths had already cost Crispin a small fortune. A double agent deep under cover in the Galweigh household had placed a bottle of
veburral
-laced nut oil into the cook’s traveling supplies just before he boarded the airible, replacing the bottle that should have been there. The agent had been in place in the household of the Goft Galweighs for five years, and this was the only service he had rendered. He had been worth his price, though. When Crispin and the Sabir army flew the Galweigh airibles into the landing field behind Galweigh House without challenge, and swarmed out to claim the House and everything in it, the Galweighs would fall and the Sabirs would hold Calimekka alone.
veburral
-laced nut oil into the cook’s traveling supplies just before he boarded the airible, replacing the bottle that should have been there. The agent had been in place in the household of the Goft Galweighs for five years, and this was the only service he had rendered. He had been worth his price, though. When Crispin and the Sabir army flew the Galweigh airibles into the landing field behind Galweigh House without challenge, and swarmed out to claim the House and everything in it, the Galweighs would fall and the Sabirs would hold Calimekka alone.
Chapter
20
20
N
ight buried the escaping longboat beneath its cloak, and Ian’s voice, long since reduced to a croak, called out the beat of the sweeps in slower and slower measure. Kait’s palms wore blisters beneath blisters, the skin ragged and weeping. The muscles in her back burned, her thighs ached, her calves cramped, even her gut felt like it had been set afire by a sadist.
ight buried the escaping longboat beneath its cloak, and Ian’s voice, long since reduced to a croak, called out the beat of the sweeps in slower and slower measure. Kait’s palms wore blisters beneath blisters, the skin ragged and weeping. The muscles in her back burned, her thighs ached, her calves cramped, even her gut felt like it had been set afire by a sadist.
Ian called, “Ship sweeps and rest. Trev, drop anchor.”
The chain rattled out of the front of the boat; it tugged as it bit into the sea bottom, and the boat drifted lazily with the unseen current until it swung around to point them all back in the direction from which they’d just come.
Kait sat panting, her head between her knees. “I’m starving, but I can’t swear that I wouldn’t be too sick to eat if we had food,” she said.
“I could eat,” Yanth said. “If I puked it up, I’d just eat more. I feel like I’m dying right now.”
“I want water more than anything,” Trev moaned.
Water. Everyone agreed with that. The boat had a small barrel of water on board for emergencies, of course, but it hadn’t been changed in a long time, and it tasted as bad as bilgewater smelled. Clear, cold, fresh water from a spring . . . that, everyone agreed, would be the true gift of the gods.
“We’re half a station’s hard rowing from our destination,” Ian said. “All the sweet water there that you could drink in a lifetime. But I think we can afford to rest just a bit before we go on. The airibles haven’t come after us in spite of the fact that we were in clear sight for more than a station. So I suppose we’re safe to assume the spell worked.”
Hasmal spoke up from behind Kait. “There’s a solid enough spell around the boat right now.”
She sat up in spite of the agony in her back and turned around to look at him. He lay with his head propped against the forward bulwark, taking a careful sip of water from the barrel.
Ry twisted toward the front of the boat, too. “You can . . . see . . . the shield?”
Hasmal shrugged. “No. It isn’t like your kind of magic, which leaves marks everywhere.
Farhullen
doesn’t even leave marks that those of us who practice it can see. But I can, um, see what isn’t there.”
Farhullen
doesn’t even leave marks that those of us who practice it can see. But I can, um, see what isn’t there.”
“And what would that be?” Ry asked.
Kait was curious about the answer, too.
Hasmal said, “Look at the glow the Mirror of Souls gives off—but don’t look with your eyes. Look with your magic.” He waited. Kait closed her eyes and focused on the artifact as Hasmal had taught her. After a moment of concentration, she thought she saw what he meant. The faint, warm light that she could “see” with her magical senses glowed around the boat in a perfect sphere. And ended abruptly, which she knew, after months of sailing with it, was unusual. The soft glow had always spread to fill most of the
Wind Treasure,
fading as it neared the periphery—but there had never been a clear line between where the magic was and where it wasn’t.
Wind Treasure,
fading as it neared the periphery—but there had never been a clear line between where the magic was and where it wasn’t.
“You see?” Hasmal said.
Kait nodded, as did Ry. The others who’d tried to look only shook their heads. “Seeing” magic was a matter of practice, and Kait had only recently reached the point where she could do it with any certainty.
“If you hadn’t put that shield up, the Mirror would leave a trail behind us that any of Ry’s Wolves could follow.” He studied Ry and said, “And if she’d done it with
darsharen
—Wolf magic—the
rewhah
would have marked us so that they would still have seen us anywhere in the Thousand Dancers.”
darsharen
—Wolf magic—the
rewhah
would have marked us so that they would still have seen us anywhere in the Thousand Dancers.”
Ry said, “You know
darsharen
?”
darsharen
?”
“Of it—its strengths, its limitations, the ways it works. I know many of the same things about
kaiboten
.”
kaiboten
.”
“Kaiboten?”
Kait asked.
Kait asked.
“Dragon magic.”
“What is that like?” Kait asked.
Hasmal shrugged. “It’s best explained in comparison.
Farhullen
is the magic of the individual. It draws its strength from the resources of the practitioner alone, though wizards can band together to cast stronger spells. It is entirely defensive, and because of this, doesn’t create
rewhah
or leave trails.
Darsharen
is the magic of contained groups. It draws its strength from sacrifices held within a spell circle, and is more powerful than
farhullen
. Wolves have found ways to use the blood, the flesh, and the life energy of their sacrifices, and can create either offensive or defensive spells with that energy.
Darsharen,
though, always leaves a trail and almost always creates
rewhah
.”
Farhullen
is the magic of the individual. It draws its strength from the resources of the practitioner alone, though wizards can band together to cast stronger spells. It is entirely defensive, and because of this, doesn’t create
rewhah
or leave trails.
Darsharen
is the magic of contained groups. It draws its strength from sacrifices held within a spell circle, and is more powerful than
farhullen
. Wolves have found ways to use the blood, the flesh, and the life energy of their sacrifices, and can create either offensive or defensive spells with that energy.
Darsharen,
though, always leaves a trail and almost always creates
rewhah
.”
He took another sip out of the water barrel and propped himself against one of the curved ribs of the longboat. “And then there is
kaiboten
. It’s the magic of uncontained groups, and the most powerful of all. The Dragons discovered ways to use everyone around them as unknowing sacrifices, at any time, without needing to prepare their victims or even identify them. They could sacrifice entire populations of cities, and according to histories and brief references in the Secret Texts, toward the end of the Wizards’ War, they did. Further,
kaiboten
offers access to something no other magic has ever touched.”
kaiboten
. It’s the magic of uncontained groups, and the most powerful of all. The Dragons discovered ways to use everyone around them as unknowing sacrifices, at any time, without needing to prepare their victims or even identify them. They could sacrifice entire populations of cities, and according to histories and brief references in the Secret Texts, toward the end of the Wizards’ War, they did. Further,
kaiboten
offers access to something no other magic has ever touched.”
“Which is?” Ry asked.
“According to Solander, the Dragons learned how to harvest souls for their sacrifices. They didn’t satisfy themselves with stealing blood and flesh and life energy, but stole the energy of immortality itself.”
Kait frowned. “
Farhullen
uses the soul energy, too.”
Farhullen
uses the soul energy, too.”
Hasmal shook his head wearily. “In
farhullen,
you may offer your own soul to the service of Vodor Imrish, and he may accept your offering, or not, as he chooses. But even if he accepts your sacrifice, he doesn’t destroy your soul. The Dragons were crueler than the gods in this respect.
Kaiboten
uses the souls of its sacrifices the way a fire uses wood. It burns them for the energy they give off, and destroys them utterly in the process.”
farhullen,
you may offer your own soul to the service of Vodor Imrish, and he may accept your offering, or not, as he chooses. But even if he accepts your sacrifice, he doesn’t destroy your soul. The Dragons were crueler than the gods in this respect.
Kaiboten
uses the souls of its sacrifices the way a fire uses wood. It burns them for the energy they give off, and destroys them utterly in the process.”
Kait considered that. She had always believed in the immortality of the soul, and in its sanctity. She had faced the ever-present fear of her own death when she was a child by consoling herself with the knowledge that her soul would go on, and with the hope that in another life she would be found worthy to be a true human, and not a Cursed Karnee. She had believed then—in fact had always believed—that the soul was safe from all assaults.
And now Hasmal told her that the Dragons destroyed their victims both body and soul.
Ian cleared his throat and rasped, “Hasmal, you’ve been talking about the Dragons returning. Your religion—it knows this is going to happen?”
Hasmal nodded. “I believe it’s already happened. They’re back, and trying to get the Mirror of Souls to Calimekka. We’re trying to get it to Solander, because Solander and the Falcons will stand against the Dragons, as they did in the Wizards’ War.”
Kait turned to look at Ian—she’d never heard a sound from a human throat like the one he’d made right then. He was staring at the Mirror of Souls. “That thing—it burns souls?”
Hasmal shrugged. “I don’t think so, but I don’t know what it does. All I know is that Solander says he needs it, and Solander and the Falcons are all that stand between humanity and a return of the Dragon Empire.”
Ry had been silent while Hasmal talked, but now he said, “Hasmal, when we’re safely out of this, I want you to teach me
farhullen
.”
farhullen
.”
Hasmal’s mouth twitched in the faintest of smiles. “A Wolf approaching a Falcon for help. These are surely the latter days of the world.” He closed his eyes wearily; in the dim light he still looked pale as death.
“We’re already safely out of it, aren’t we?” she asked. “We’re shielded, we’re well away from the airibles and hidden from them now by islands, and we have the Mirror.”
Ian looked at the setting sun and frowned. “I don’t know that I’ll ever feel safe again. I liked the world better when magic was dead, and swords and speed and cunning made a man.”
Hasmal said, “That world has never existed—but I’m sure it was comforting to believe it did.”
Kait closed her eyes and leaned forward, letting her head drop down over her knees and her arms and shoulders hang loose. Her spine popped in a dozen places, and for a moment burned with fresh pain. She sympathized with Ian. She, too, had preferred the world when she hadn’t known that magic still ran beneath its surface like thick poison in the bottom of a glass of wine.
Ian said, “We need to get moving again. I don’t like being on the water any longer than we have to. Since my hands aren’t blistered, if you’ll give me your shirts, I’ll tear them into rags for you. You can wrap your hands with them. It will ease the pain and keep you from breaking any more blisters.”
Kait groaned. “Why didn’t you think of that earlier?”
“I did. But all of you had two choices—blisters on your hands or sunburn and blisters on your shoulders and backs and faces. And with the sunburn, you’d have gotten sun poisoning, and you’d have been sick and feverish, and have slowed us up when we reached our destination. I know your hands hurt, but at least you don’t have to walk on them.”
He tore strips for them. Trev told Kait, “You don’t need to use
your
shirt for strips. I’ll give you some of the cloth from mine.”
your
shirt for strips. I’ll give you some of the cloth from mine.”
She smiled at him. He had always been pleasant to her, where the others among Ry’s lieutenants limited themselves to being cautiously polite.
“Thank you,” she said.
“I’d want someone to do the same for one of my sisters,” he told her.
She managed to smile. “Me, too,” she said, trying not to think of her own sisters. They were gone, and the part of her life that had contained them was gone, and nothing she could do would change that.
Valard asked Ian, “Where are we headed?”
Ian said, “There’s a village on the island of Falea, right at the base of the volcano. It’s called Z’tatne, which my friends there tell me means ‘good mangoes.’ It’s a hard place to reach, easy to defend, and my friends will be happy to take us in and help us on our way. They’re fishermen, hunters, sailors, and farmers most of the time, and pirates when the crops aren’t good or the fish aren’t running.”
Kait was wrapping strips of linen around her hands when the hair on the nape of her neck started to stand on end. Her gut tightened, and the air around her seemed to get thicker. And she felt a greasiness she hadn’t felt since . . . since . . . She closed her eyes. When?
Then it hit her. She’d felt that precise sensation in the airible on the way home to Calimekka. Right before the magic attack that heralded the onset of her Family’s destruction. She looked at Ry, and found he was staring at her, his face marked with fear.
“Not you?” she asked him, and he shook his head. They both looked at Hasmal.
He wasn’t creating the feeling, either; he was staring at the Mirror of Souls.
Yes. That was where the magic originated. The air grew thicker, and filled with the stink of rotting meat, the stench sweetened by honeysuckle, but only slightly. “What’s it doing?” Kait asked.
Hasmal shrugged. “I don’t know. Nothing good.”
“What did you do to it?” Ry stood, and began making his way back to the back of the boat.
“I didn’t do anything to it. I was sitting beside it, and Ian was talking about where we were going, and I felt it start to . . . to
hum,
after a fashion. Like a cat purring with its side pressed against my skin. And now . . .” He frowned and rose, and stood staring down at it. “It isn’t humming anymore. I don’t know what it’s doing now, but I don’t like it.”
hum,
after a fashion. Like a cat purring with its side pressed against my skin. And now . . .” He frowned and rose, and stood staring down at it. “It isn’t humming anymore. I don’t know what it’s doing now, but I don’t like it.”
“We need to figure out how to turn it off,” Ry said. “I don’t trust an artifact that starts working on its own.”
“It’s
been
working,” Kait said. “The column of light in its center already glowed when I found it. I just don’t know what it’s been doing.”
been
working,” Kait said. “The column of light in its center already glowed when I found it. I just don’t know what it’s been doing.”
Ian said, “You’re sure your Reborn needs it?”
“Yes,” Hasmal said, and Kait echoed him with a soft, “Yes. He told me so, too.”
“Because I’d be for throwing it over the side and leaving it to the gorrahs,” Ian continued.
“We have to take it,” Hasmal said.
“It was waiting for something,” Ian insisted. “As if it wanted to know where we were going, and once it knew that . . .” His voice trailed off into silence and he stared at the glowing Mirror.
“We have to take it,” Kait said.
“Shang!” Ian clenched a fist tight and stared out at the dark hulks of the islands that rose around them. “Then let’s get going before it does something else.”
Everyone turned to the sweeps, and gripped the sturdy oak with wrapped hands. Hasmal pulled in the anchor, then settled himself beside Trev on the front thwart and gripped the oar. “Forward . . . ,” Ian said. “And down . . . and pull . . . and lift. . . .”
Her back was an agony, and fire lanced through her palms, partially healed though they already were. She tried to think about pulling her sweep, about finding safety. But Kait shivered. She had a premonition that they were doing the wrong thing by moving on instead of staying and finding out what had gone wrong with the Mirror of Souls.
BOOK: Vengeance of Dragons (Secret Texts)
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