Waterdance (8 page)

Atheris scowled slightly, but he paused thoughtfully before he answered.

“The city would be only an elementary scrying,” he said. “The Bone Hunters are another matter. Finding them is simple; preventing them from sensing my scrying in turn is another matter. That requires a more powerful spell.”

“So?” Peri said.

“I am already sustaining the blood spell on this wagon,” he said slowly and patiently, as if speaking to a child. “Casting the necessary scrying will weaken me greatly.”

“Well, think about this, then,” she said, just as patiently. “We have to get away from this caravan before we get into a city, or I’m dead. We’ve got to find some other place to hide, or you’re captured. That means that we’ve got to know where the city is so we have time to get away from the caravan, and we’ve got to know where the Bone Hunters are so we have time to get away from them. Or do you have a better idea?”

Atheris was silent for a long moment. At last he spoke, sounding very tired.

“I will require a bowl,” he said. “Or a cup.”

And they had none. Peri thought about the problem for a moment, then nodded.

“Can you make fire?” she asked.

“Fire?” Atheris repeated. “By magic?”

“By magic, yes,” Peri said irritably. “If I wanted somebody to hear me scraping away with flint and steel, I wouldn’t have asked you in the first place. Can you make enough fire to light a candle? Yes or no?” This was a Sarkondish mage, true, not a Fire-Dedicated like her mother, but even Loris could’ve lit a simple candle.

“Yes,” Atheris said very softly. “I can light a candle. But if I do, it will be seen.”

“Not if you stop talking about it and do it before the light goes,” Peri retorted. She had to remind herself sternly to be slow and quiet as she drew a candle out of one of the bags. “Hurry.”

Atheris said nothing, although he clearly wanted to question, if not argue, but he only focused on the wick of the candle Peri held out; a moment later the candle flared alight. Peri handed the candle to Atheris.

“All right,” she said, extending her cupped hands. “Drip the wax into my hands.”

Atheris’s eyebrows shot up, but he obeyed, tilting the candle sharply so that the wax melted rapidly. He glanced at Peri’s face as the hot wax dripped down. “I would think,” he said slowly, “that that would be quite painful.”

Peri grinned ruefully, carefully working the liquid wax with her thumbs against her palms into a bowl shape.

“Not much, actually,” she said. “I’ve been studying the sword and herding horses most of my life. I’ve even woven baskets out of swordgrass. My hands are pretty callused and tough.” She chuckled, thinking of her mother; the Fire-Dedicated High Lady, whom Peri had seen hold metal in the forge until it melted in her bare hands, would not have been impressed by a little melted beeswax.

And she and Father wouldn’t be much impressed by anything else I’ve done so far, either, Peri thought sourly as she worked the wax. And why should they be? So far all I’ve managed to do is rescue an enemy, get the both of us chased into Sarkond by magic-wielding assassins, and lose my war-horse. So much for convincing them I was meant to be a great warrior. A great idiot—now, THAT they might believe.

“Enough,” Atheris whispered, blowing out the candle. “The wax cup is deep enough, and the sun is low. Soon they would see the light from this wagon and investigate.”

Peri carefully pulled her fingers free of the hollowed-out wax cup and handed it to Atheris. When he started to unwind the bandage around his hand again, however, Peri shook her head.

“Don’t,” she said. “If you keep opening that cut, it’s going to need stitches, and the palm of your hand is the worst place to have a scar.” She grimaced. Why do I care if he cripples or scars his hand? Mahdha scour me raw, you’d think he was my clansman. Never mind—for now, at least, I need him un-maimed.

“If you have to use blood,” Peri said, forcing the words out, “can you use mine? You may need your strength for more spellcasting, and Mahdha knows I’m rested.”

Atheris hesitated thoughtfully for a moment, then nodded.

“Your blood will suffice,” he said. “Your knife?”

“Right.” Peri passed it over and pushed up her sleeve, indicating the fattiest part of her forearm beside the previous cut. “There.”

That’s another priority, she thought to distract herself while Atheris made the shallow cut, letting her blood drip into the wax cup. If he has a scabbard, I assume he has at least some idea of what to do with a sword, mage or not. Whatever that horsecrap was about women and swords, two blades are better than one, even if one of them IS a Sarkond. I’ve got to find a way to steal him a dagger at least. I don’t like eating with a knife that’s been used in Sarkondish magic. And as long as I’m in Sarkond, at least, my grace-blade never leaves my boot sheath. If I were captured—Peri resolutely did not finish that thought.

When Atheris released her arm, she bound the cut quietly, watching as he chanted in a whisper over the makeshift cup. At last his chant trailed off into silence; Peri saw nothing reflected in the blood in the cup, but Atheris’s gaze became intent and the fleeting expressions passing across his face told her that the spell had at least revealed something of interest.

At last he closed his eyes, apparently breaking the spell, raised the wax cup, and to Peri’s amazement, swallowed the small quantity of her blood in the cup. Atheris shivered as he swallowed, and Peri shivered, too, grimacing. She’d tasted the blood of her kills often enough, sharing the heart or liver on a successful hunt, but this was different. This was human blood, her blood.

“Why in the world,” she whispered squeamishly, “did you do that?”

Atheris glanced at her curiously, as if the answer were self-evident.

“Your blood contains the emanation of your magic,” he whispered back, “and further was imbued with some of my own magic as well. What would you have had me do, waste its power and pour it on the ground for the Bone Hunters to track us by?”

Peri didn’t grace that with an answer, but she privately resolved to empty her urine out the back of the wagon at the first possible opportunity, before she learned about any more bizarre Sarkondish customs!

To her surprise, however, she found herself weary, almost exhausted. She checked the cut on her arm, only slightly reassured to find it already closed, then sat back against the crates, closing her eyes, already drowsing. Certainly Atheris hadn’t drawn enough blood to leave her this worn-out. This must be the magical draining effect he had mentioned. If that was so, no wonder he’d slept all day!

“So what did you see?” Peri murmured, forcing her eyes open. “Bad news first; I’m not sure I can stay awake for the lot.”

“The Bone Hunters are definitely closer,” Atheris said softly. “There are three who crossed into Sarkond, and they are far west of the point where they crossed. Whether they are tracking us somehow, whether they are merely paralleling the Veil by arrangement with their brethren on the other side, or whether they are following the trade road, deducing that we might take that path, I do not know. They are mounted—not the horses they rode before, so they have stolen or claimed others. They ride slowly but with purpose, not deviating from their path to search, so I must assume they have some idea of our course. And they move, of course, far more rapidly than this caravan.”

“Oh, Bright Ones,” Peri groaned, abruptly remembering their situation and quickly lowering her voice. “Is there any more bad news?”

“No,” Atheris said softly. “The rest should reassure you. The other Bone Hunters have not crossed the Veil, which indicates they are not positive we are still in Sarkond. That remains to our advantage.

“Judging the distance we have made from the Veil in one day,” he continued, “we will reach Darnalek in two days, perhaps three. But we will wish to leave the caravan tomorrow.”

“Oh, really?” Peri said, forcing herself to sit up straight. She shook her head as cobwebs threatened to smother her brain. “Why? And have you figured out how yet?”

“The ‘why’ will answer a part of the ‘how,’” Atheris told her. “I have found for us a far better hiding place than this, and one which will quickly conceal us when we depart this wagon. There is a large pilgrimage of worshipers journeying to the great temple at Rocarran. The road the pilgrims are following joins with this one very soon, and the caravan will undoubtedly overtake the pilgrimage tomorrow in late afternoon. There are enough people on the road that the caravan will be forced to follow behind the pilgrimage until the worshipers take another fork in the road some miles beyond. Therefore it is almost certain that the caravan will camp near the pilgrims tomorrow night. We should be able to leave the wagons and easily hide ourselves among the worshipers, many of whom are sick or diseased. A robe and some bandages will conceal your outland features and clothing.”

“That’s fine,” Peri said irritably, “except that it still leaves us with our two biggest problems—first, that we’re going farther north when we want to be heading south instead; and second, that we won’t have any nice wagon you can cast a spell on to hide us from those Bone Hunters.”

“But that is the perfection of it,” Atheris told her, smiling. “The worshipers are accompanied by priests of the temple, powerful mages themselves. Hiding within the crowd, the presence of the priests will conceal our emanations as certainly as the spell I used, and without taxing my magical energies in the slightest. And when the Bone Hunters find no trace of us, why should they search farther north when they know that is the one direction we would never choose to go? Surely they will assume that they have passed us and turn back eastward, and then we can make our way back to Bregond safely.”

Peri was far from convinced. Atheris’ s plan meant continuing north, so they’d have that much more of Sarkond to cross on foot to return to Bregond, with only whatever supplies and money they could manage to steal from the merchants before they left the caravan. Her every instinct told her to sneak out of the wagon this very night, steal a couple of horses, and head back for Bregond as fast as she could ride, with or without Atheris. And could she trust what he told her? Perhaps his whole goal was to get them deeper into Sarkond for purposes of his own.

But that made no sense. He’d clearly fled Sarkond into Bregond; she’d seen that for herself. And just as clearly the Bone Hunters had pursued him and captured him alive with the goal of taking him back. Atheris had no more to gain by venturing farther north than Peri herself. His motives might be questionable, but she was far too tired right now to press him for those answers. She could hardly form a coherent thought without nodding off.

“All right,” she whispered at last. “We’ll talk about it and make our plans tomorrow while the wagon’s moving and we can make more noise. Right now I need ...” Her eyelids were so heavy she could barely keep them up. “Need to—”

“Yes, sleep,” Atheris urged, sliding their makeshift pack over for her to rest her head on. “Regain your strength. And tomorrow—”

But sleep swallowed whatever he might have said.

Chapter Three

“Yes,” Atheris said, very softly, “they are definitely closer.”

Peri sighed, rubbing her eyes. Her head was still fuzzy, her eyes scratchy, despite having slept all night and most of the morning.

“Bright Ones, I’m a mess,” she whispered. “Was that scrying spell that strong?”

“The spell itself was not strong,” Atheris replied. “It was intricate and subtle, and I had to substitute the energy of the blood sacrifice for properties normally gained over the course of the ritual. Unfortunately, as you say, the little magical force in your blood is quickly consumed and so your energies are exhausted more rapidly. I must avoid drawing on your strength unless it is unavoidable. You are better left to defend us physically.” He sounded vaguely disapproving, and Peri bit back a retort that seemed likely to start the whole women-as-warriors argument over again. First chance she got, she’d happily demonstrate her ability as a warrior. She was less than pleased this morning anyway; to her embarrassment, when she woke she found that she’d cuddled cozily against Atheris in her sleep, and unfortunately, by the time she pulled away, Atheris had already wakened and noticed her position and her flaming cheeks. Thanks be to Mahdha, at least he’d kept his mouth shut about it; for that great mercy, Peri was willing to forgive him his idiotic view of women—for the moment, at least.

“Three priorities,” she said shortly. “First: steal food, water, weapons, and money if possible. Second: get away from the caravan without anyone noticing. Third: hide ourselves in the pilgrimage, which means getting a robe and rags for me.”

“This time let me manage the thefts,” Atheris told her. “If you can only get away from the caravan and hide yourself temporarily, I will procure what we need.”

“Really.” Peri glanced at him narrowly. “And just how are you going to do that?” If anything, he looked more weary than she felt.

“I can cause sleep,” Atheris told her, then added hastily, “in one or possibly two persons at a time. I could hardly so treat the whole caravan of guards and merchants. But with care I can find a guard by himself and so procure his weapons. I will gain money and supplies and your robe in a similar manner. Only leave the caravan and make your way around to the north side of the camp and wait for me. That way the pilgrims and priests will remain between you and the Bone Hunters.”

“I can do that,” Peri said unwillingly. It disturbed her profoundly, the idea of depending on Atheris and his magic so heavily. But she could suggest nothing better. And stealing ran contrary to everything she had been taught. However hypocritical it might be, she would far rather leave the stealing to someone else. “I can do that,” she said again, more strongly. Atheris had trusted her expertise before; here, now, deep in Sarkond, she had little choice but to trust his. And speaking of trust—

“Why do they want you so badly?” Peri whispered. “Those Bone Hunters, I mean.”