Chaosbound (30 page)

So the facilitator waded in among the humans and brought back a likely Dedicate, a small young man with a weak chin. The boy dodged and kicked, trying to break away. He did indeed seem to be a child with a gift for speed.

The facilitator spoke to the boy in his own language, soothing him, calming him, promising life in return for his gift. A few slaps to the face left the boy with a bloody nose and a firm conviction that giving up his endowment would save his life.

Then the ceremony began; the facilitator picked out a forcible and began singing to the boy in his deep voice, a wordless song meant only to mesmerize the child, get his mind off his fear. Then the facilitator pressed the rune end of the forcible to the boy's neck, and it suddenly grew white-hot at its tip. The sound of sizzling skin filled the air.

The boy whimpered then, but did not break away. Instead, he sat stoically, glaring at Crull-maldor, as if daring her to take his gift.

The facilitator continued singing, brought the forcible to Crull-maldor. He twirled it in the air, and thick white lines of light held in the air wherever the forcible went, creating a serpent of light that coiled through the room.

But when the glowing forcible touched Crull-maldor's skin, the white hot metal did not burn it. The serpent merely hung in the air, as if waiting to strike elsewhere.

The facilitator grew nervous, tried touching Crull-maldor in various places—her belly, her neck, a healthy-looking patch of skin on her forehead.

But nothing worked. Beads of sweat began to break upon his brow as he considered how she might punish him for his failure.

“Master,” he begged, “a lich cannot take an endowment. . . . You are too far gone toward death.”

It was as Crull-maldor had feared. She had tried an experiment, and failed.

It is because I do not cling to my flesh, she realized. I am a spirit inhabiting a bag made of skin, nothing more. I have the form of a living being, but I am not like the Knights Eternal.

She thought for long seconds, and answered the facilitator. “Oh, I can take endowments. But first I must take a fitting body. . . .”

17

No man is a barbarian in his own eyes, but often is seen as a barbarian by others
.

—Warlord Hrath

Six days later the soft cries of gulls wafted above a still, fog-shrouded sea. In the gray dawn, the water barely lapped against the hull of the
Borrow-bird
, looking for the entire world like molten lead.

Myrrima peered overboard, and tasted the salty air. Land was not far off. She could smell a hint of it—autumn fields and wet earth, not too far away.

Fifty-two days it had been since the family had fled Landesfallen.

Fifty-two days was a long time. Much can change.

Myrrima was filled with burning questions: What will we find in Rofe-havan? Where is Talon? What has befallen my other children?

The sea gave no answers. Myrrima was a wizardess, but unlike some who were gifted with aquamancy, she could not foretell a person's fate by gazing into a still pool.

For a moment, she thought that she caught sight of a shadow on the water—a fishing coracle. But it disappeared through the fog as silently as it had come, and she wondered if it had been a dream.

Her ship lay as silently as a log in the water. She'd lowered the sail an hour ago, and then bade the ship be still. A small spell kept a dense fog in place. It was not hard to do. There was no wind, and it would have been a foggy morning even without her help.

Aaath Ulber stumbled up from the hold and wiped the morning sleep
from his eyes. He took the rudder by long habit, though there was no need to steer.

“We've got land nearby,” Myrrima told him. She didn't know exactly where they were. No one on board was a navigator. But they had known that if they sailed west long enough, they'd run into a continent. But how far north or south had they come? To the north was Internook, home to the savage warlords. That was the most likely place for them to beach. But if they had drifted south far enough, they might beach in Haversind or Toom—lands that would be more hospitable.

The giant drew a deep breath, taking a long draught of air. “There's a port,” he said. “I can smell cooking fires.”

He has a good nose, Myrrima thought. The warrior clans bred like hunting dogs, and they gave him a good nose with all the rest.

“Aye,” Myrrima said. “If you listen close, you'll hear foghorns braying in the distance.” She shot him a worried look.

Aaath Ulber stood silently until a horn sounded, long and deep. “Internook,” he said softly. “We've landed in damned Internook.”

He gave her a worried glance. They'd had nothing but bear meat to eat for the past few days, an old boar, sour and rancid.

Myrrima said, “I think that I should go ashore, purchase some fresh supplies.”

Aaath Ulber held his tongue for a moment, peered at her from the corner of his eye. She knew that he would argue. He loved her too much to let her take the risk.

“I'll be the first to go into town,” he said.

“Why you?” Myrrima demanded.

“I'm the biggest,” he said. “If anyone gives me trouble, I'll be able to squash them.”

She had known that he would make that argument. “You're the biggest—and the easiest to spot,” she said. “You'll attract too much attention.”

“Your dark hair will attract almost as much attention. And you speak with a Heredon brogue. I've always done a fair impression of an Inter-nook accent.”

“Fair enough to mock the warlords at a drunken feast, but this isn't a feast, and these are not our friends. They'll spot you in minute!”

“Last that I heard, it wasn't against the law in Internook to be a Mystarrian,” Aaath Ulber growled.

“Last I heard, the warlords of Internook were using Mystarrians for bear bait in the arena.”

“Let them,” Aaath Ulber said. “The last bear that I tangled with didn't do so well.”

“Maybe we should just keep sailing,” Myrrima said. “I have an ill feeling about this. In two more days we could be in Toom.”

Aaath Ulber stood over her, put his huge hand on her shoulder. He was trying to be gentle, she knew. He was trying to ease her mind. But it felt clumsy and wrong somehow. His hands now were as big as plates. They felt like the paws of some animal. There was a distance between them that could not be crossed, and when he touched her now she felt more isolated than ever.

“We need ale,” Aaath Ulber said, “at the very least. I've heard that we cannot trust the water here. Ale, a few vegetables, a couple of hens. I can go to the morning market and be out in an hour. I won't talk much, just grunt and nod and point.”

“That was my plan exactly,” Myrrima smiled.

“Mmmm?” he asked. He pointed at her, jutted his chin, and grunted, as if to say, “I want that one.”

Myrrima laughed.

“See,” Aaath Ulber said, “I've been practicing all month. I've got it down to an art.”

Myrrima didn't agree to let him go. Aaath Ulber simply went to one of the two away boats, lowered it over the side, and climbed down in. When he settled into it, he looked far too large for the small vessel. It threatened to sink under his weight.

Rain came rushing out of her cabin at that moment. “Wait,” she cried. “I'm coming with you.”

“You?” Aaath Ulber asked.

“You shouldn't go alone,” she said. “With my blond hair, I'll fit right in.”

Aaath Ulber opened his mouth to argue, but Rain shushed him. “I'll follow you, keep a good distance. And if there is trouble, I won't intercede. I'll just let the others know.”

Myrrima studied the girl. She had the right hair color, but she wasn't big-boned enough.

Rain's plan made sense, but a wave of foreboding stole over her.

As Rain scrambled to get into the boat, Myrrima said, “Maybe I should come, too. . . .”

Aaath Ulber said tersely, “The others need you more than I do. Keep a fog wrapped around the boat, like a fine gray cloak. I'll be back soon.”

He took the oars and began to paddle away, toward the distant bray of a foghorn. Myrrima demanded. “How will you find us when you're done?”

“Easy,” Aaath Ulber said. “I'll just look for a broad patch of mist on the ocean, and aim right for the heart of it.”

He smiled up at her, then pulled hard on the oars once, twice, three times—and the mist swallowed him.

Aaath Ulber rowed toward shore on the little ship's boat, with Rain seated in the back of the boat, doing her best to look brave.

“Don't worry,” Aaath Ulber told Rain. “Everyone will be looking at me. No one will be looking at you.”

He considered how very little the young girl knew, and realized that Rain could use more instruction. “When we get to the dock, wait until I've gone a good hundred yards before you begin to follow. Understand?”

“I'll be fine,” Rain said.

Aaath Ulber recognized that Rain seldom had to be told a thing more than once. She had a keen memory, and a good wit when she wasn't too shy to speak. But right now, her life would depend upon how well she performed.

For a moment there was little sound, only the splashing of oars as he dipped and pulled, dipped and pulled. Then a great horn sounded off toward shore. Other than that, the only sound was the waves lapping
against the boat, and the only sight was the gray fog above and the waves beneath as they lifted the boat gently and then let it fall. The water was clear, with a bit of kelp floating here and there, and some small yellow jellyfish.

“When you follow me, keep your head down, and your hood up. This may not be the largest village in Internook. The men and women of the place, they'll think that you're some girl from the outskirts of town or a nearby village. But folks your own age—they're the ones you have to watch out for. They'll mark you as a stranger.

“Don't speak to anyone. Try not to look like you're following me. That means that you don't watch me. You might stop and look in the windows of a shop, or stoop over to tie the straps to your boots, or pet some stray dog. But you don't follow me with your eyes, understand?”

He waited for Rain to nod.

“Now, tell me what you're going to do when we get into town?”

Rain repeated the instructions nearly perfectly.

Yet he worried. Rain's face was pale with fear. Bone-white skin was common up here in the North, and so he figured that she wouldn't look too out of place. Her hair color and eye color were right. The folks here all had yellow or red hair.

What bothered him was the fear in her eyes, the tight lips, the way her shoulders hunched in on themselves, the way her breath came shallow.

“I want you to try not to be afraid,” he suggested. “Your fear is what will give you away. Keep your head down but your back straight and tall, your shoulders wide. When you see someone, smile as if you were greeting an old friend. And when you walk along the streets, think of better days, and happier times ahead.”