Waterdance (19 page)

“What?” Peri said when Atheris paused.

“About Amis,” Atheris said at last, very softly. “Whether she lives or not.” But he didn’t meet her eyes, and from what Peri had heard of the fortune-teller’s speech, she thought Atheris was lying.

“Well, did you find out?” she said at last.

Atheris glanced at her, his eyebrows lowering.

“What?”

“Whether she’s alive or not,” Peri said patiently.

“Ah. No, he could not tell me,” Atheris said, his voice flat. “But I am almost certain she is dead—if not from the harm our magic caused her, then executed as a heretic.” He was silent for a long moment. “I would like to rest now, Perian.”

Peri sighed.

“Right,” she said.

A poultice, a few bandages, and some brandy later, Atheris was soundly asleep. Exhausted as she was, however, Peri found no such release from her troubled thoughts.

Atheris was lying about the fortune-teller; she was certain of it. That meant there were other facts he was concealing. She didn’t like what she had heard, especially the bit about betrayal. The plain fact remained that although she’d slept with this man, matched sword to sword as an equal, and risked her life for him several times over, she still couldn’t trust him. But, oh, she couldn’t lie in her pallet next to his and not smell the earthy scent of his hair, not taste his sweat, not see in her mind those eyes that seemed to know her so well—

Traitor, Peri thought grimly, helplessly, burying her head in her arms. The betrayer in this loft isn’t Atheris. It’s me.

In the morning, by tacit agreement they simply ate their breakfast and stayed in the loft waiting for the delivery of the horses. Atheris dozed, probably recovering his strength; Peri practiced with her sword, by herself this time. When Atheris woke, it was almost suppertime. Peri checked his wound, pleased to see it was healing cleanly.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said when she’d fetched up their bread and stew. “I wonder if we shouldn’t wait and leave in the morning. Nobody in this city seems to go out at night, and now we know why—if there is a guard at the gate, it’s going to look pretty noteworthy if we ride out after dark. I’d hate to run into any more of those feeder things, either. Tomorrow we could slip out pretty easily with all the pilgrim traffic going in and out—we saw how slipshod the gate watch is during the day. Besides, you can probably use another good night’s rest in a comfortable bed before we start a hard ride south. Once we’re out in open country, where we might be riding right into your Bone Hunters, there’s no stopping.”

Atheris considered her words for a moment, then nodded.

“There is wisdom in waiting,” he said reluctantly. “I would prefer to leave quickly, but—” He sighed. “You are correct that we would draw less attention leaving openly by daylight. And I would enjoy a last visit to the-sweathouse before we go. Very well, then. It will be as you say.”

Just as well that Atheris had agreed, for their horses arrived just at sunset, the merchant’s man delivering them hastily and departing just as quickly. Orren grumbled at having to accept the animals so close to dark, but Peri was pleased by the care with which he stabled, groomed, and fed them. Then there was nothing to do but check the packs and tack one last time, sit in awkward silence sipping ale, and sleep.

In the middle of the night Peri sat up in the darkness, listening to Atheris’s slow, deep breathing. She could see his profile in the dim light from the brazier, and a sudden stab of desire, an answering sharp pain in her heart, took her by surprise. She bit her lip hard, shaking her head, and slid out of her pallet, quietly pulling her clothes on, then her boots. Atheris slept on, as she knew he would. The herbs she’d flipped into the cup of ale she’d brought him before they’d settled down for the night assured that he’d sleep deeply and long. Long enough, at least.

She took nothing but her blanket and weapons, the healer’s bag, her saddle and a skin of water, leaving Atheris the rest of the supplies, and, after a moment’s silent debate, all the money except the few slivers of gold in her pouch. It wouldn’t take her more than a day to reach the Barrier, and once past it she could find food and water. Atheris would need the supplies—and the money—far more than she would.

Peri crept quietly downstairs and through the side door into the stable. The horses roused at her arrival and she soothed them before they could make enough noise to alert Orren. The buff mare, as Peri had expected, was not as bad-tempered as she’d looked; an evening in a comfortable stall with bedding and good food had mellowed her enough that she stood quietly while Peri saddled and bridled her and led her out of the stall.

The outside door to the stable was locked, of course, but as Peri had seen when the horses were delivered, there was a key hanging inside the stable. Orren was wary of horse thieves, but not nearly wary enough of his houseguests. Peri unlocked the door and led the buff out; she locked the door again and, by dint of considerable maneuvering with her dagger blade, managed to push the key back into the stable through the crack under the door, then to the side where hopefully nobody would hook it back out. All right; she’d done her duty by her hosts. Now it was time to go home.

Guilt was a bitter taste in Peri’s mouth, and she hesitated outside the stable doors. Atheris would wake in the morning to find her gone, leaving him alone to make his way back out of the country where he was a wanted criminal and then through Bregond where he was a hated enemy—

Peri shook her head grimly.

I can’t help it, she thought. I can’t stay with him anymore. I can’t  trust  him,   and  he  does—something—to  me  that I can’t—I mustn’t—allow. He’s got the supplies and the money and as good a horse as I could get him. With any luck those Bone Hunters are long gone, and they can’t sense us now anyway—and even if that protection fails, they’ll follow me, which is fine, since I’m the better rider. He should make it out of Sarkond all right without me.

But once he gets to Bregond, anyone who sees him will kill him! a small inner voice said almost desperately.

He knows that, Peri told herself firmly. He knew that when he rode into Bregond the first time. He has magic to protect himself to hide. The only good my presence would do him is maybe—MAYBE—I could get him just thrown into prison and tortured instead of killed on sight.

How will he find his way? that annoying voice insisted. He’s wounded, worn-out, and doesn’t even know his way around his own country, much less Bregond. And even if he doesn’t get hopelessly lost on the plains, he doesn’t have enough supplies to make it all the way across Bregond. He doesn’t know how to find food and water there.

If he’s smart, and he is, he’ll ride east to the border of Agrond, Peri told that inner voice. Food and water’s plentiful enough there, and cover for him to hide in, and he can follow the edge of the wetlands all the way south. Once he’s out of the Three Kingdoms he’s safe.

But there’s garrisons all along the border. There are patrols and—

I can’t be responsible for him! Peri thought desperately. I can’t stay with him and make myself more of a traitor than I’ve already done! He’s a Sarkond. He can’t be trusted. He—

He saved my life. And he needs me. And I—I—

Peri groaned, leaning her head against the saddle skirt.

Traitor! Traitor!

Peri groaned again and slowly turned the mare around, back toward the stable—

Then she froze, her hand on her sword hilt. Her horse’s hooves hadn’t made that scraping sound, nor her boots—

Pure instinct saved her; she’d whirled and jumped away from the horse, sword drawn and raised to block, before she had time to think. Steel rang on steel and Peri guided the stroke aside. There was plenty of moonlight, but the buildings were clustered so closely that she could barely see a faint outline of her opponent, just enough to assure her that she wasn’t fighting a feeder this time. The darkness didn’t matter, he couldn’t see her either; what mattered was the swift and silently lethal skill that one single stroke had showed. Peri barely blocked a second stroke, tried to dance aside, only to find her opponent had anticipated her.

Got to take the offensive somehow. My defenses aren’t good enough, he’ll have me in a minute—

If Atheris hadn’t used Leaping Flame against Stalking Cat, she would never have thought of it, but the risky maneuver took her opponent as much by surprise as it had Peri. She immediately moved into the wind qivashim, her strongest offensives, but even so, her barely seen opponent countered easily, almost effortlessly, and Peri was immediately forced back on the defensive, dread settling around her heart—

Whoever this is, he’s a master. I haven’t got a chance.

Despite her best efforts, her guard faltered and too late she knew she’d left an opening for a killing blow—

I’m dead!

And then, to her utter amazement, she was still alive, a fine line of fiery pain down her thigh but nothing too serious, sheer reflexes keeping her moving as she realized—

He wants me alive. He wants me alive, or I’d be dead already.

Well, Peri had no such compunctions, and that one small advantage was all she had. Grimly she ducked under a stroke and leaped into the offensive, recklessly now, Diving Hawk becoming Summer Lightning, Leaping Wolf, Mahdha’s Fury; to her amazement her attacker fell back a pace, then another, then another—

And then he faltered, his guard dropping for the instant that was all Peri needed, and her blade slid through the flesh of his throat, all but severing his head. For a moment longer her opponent stood still, wavering on his feet; then he toppled stiffly, like a tree falling—

And behind him, a familiar figure numbly released the handle of the pitchfork whose tines were still firmly embedded in her attacker’s lower back.

“Congratulations,” Atheris said, his voice shaking. “You just killed a Bone Hunter.”

Peri, stunned and shaking with reaction, dared not hesitate, dared not give shock time to set in. She wiped her sword and sheathed it.

“Hurry,” she said. “Help me get him up on the horse.”

Atheris did not question; he silently helped her wrestle the heavy corpse into the saddle. The mare shied at the scent of blood, but stood at last.

“Is your horse saddled?” Peri asked, panting from her exertion.

“Yes,” Atheris said softly. “The only reason I was so far behind you is that I had to carry all the bags down by myself. I had just finished loading him when I heard the fight outside. But it took me a little while to find the key on the floor.” Then, after a slight pause: “Mages quickly learn to recognize the taste of local herbs in potions, you know.”

Peri sighed, wishing she could manage to regret the failure of her plan, wishing that she could silence that small part of her heart that shamefully rejoiced in Atheris’s continued presence.

“We’ve got to get this body away from here and hide it,” she said. “If we leave it anywhere nearby, Orren and Lina will certainly be questioned about us, and they’re the only ones who can give a good description of both of us—well, as much of me as they could see, anyway—and our horses. Fetch your horse and let’s get out of here.”

Atheris hesitated.

“You are hurt,” he said softly. “I can sense your blood.”

Peri reached down and touched the cut on her leg. It didn’t feel deep enough to need stitches and the bleeding wasn’t severe. It would simply have to wait.

“Nothing serious,” she said shortly. “Now let’s get going.”

Again Atheris obeyed silently, and Peri slid up behind him on the gelding, pulling the buff after them. Fortunately the other citizens of Darnalek appeared every bit as wary of the city after dark as Lina had been; they met no one, no guards or Bone Hunters or thugs or feeders, and between the two of them they remembered their way through the gray, silent streets and out of the decaying city. Once they were safely out of sight of the walls, Atheris pulled his horse to a stop.

“What now?” he said softly.

“That depends,” Peri said. “Can you feel any of the other Bone Hunters, where they are?”

Atheris was silent for a moment; then he shivered.

“Yes,” he said, very quietly. “I can feel the other four. Three are south of us, scattered east to west, but I think they were all following the road. They are approaching quickly, with purpose. They must have sensed the other’s death. The last one is in the city somewhere—where, I cannot say. There are too many mages and priests and feeders in Darnalek. It confuses me.”

“Oh, Bright Ones,” Peri breathed. “We’re caught between them. The ones to the south—if they can’t sense us, are they separated widely enough that we can slip through, or maybe
go around them?”

After a long moment Atheris shook his head.

“I think not,” he said. “Off the road we could not ride with any speed—remember the ground there? And on the road we would certainly be seen.”

Peri took a deep breath.

“All right, then,” she said. “Here’s what we do. We dump the body here and ride as fast as we can to that crossroads where we camped. Once we get there, we take off these protective charms—”

“What?” Atheris hissed.

“—and take the northwest fork,” Peri said firmly. “Let them think we’re heading for Rocarran to hide ourselves in a pilgrimage again. We ride hard till we catch up with the first pilgrimage we meet. Then we put the charms back on, leave the road, and turn back south.”

“Ah, I see,” Atheris said slowly. “Another false trail, but this time baited with ourselves.”

“Exactly,” Peri said grimly. “They’ve seen through every other trick we’ve played, or at least it looks that way.” She slid off the gelding’s rump. “Now help me with this body.”

Atheris helped her pull the Bone Hunter’s body off the dun, and for the first time Peri had sufficient light to get a good look at her attacker. He was tall and lithe, rather than heavily muscled—the build of a hunting cat, made for swift attack rather than sustained strength. His entire head was covered by a black leather mask with holes cut out for ears, eyes, nose, and mouth—remembering what Atheris had said about mutilation, Peri really didn’t want to see what was under that mask—and the rest of his clothing was bone-beaded black leather, sturdy but nothing spectacular. The only other item of interest was a long string of short bones hanging around his neck.