Exile (26 page)

He’d do it in a heartbeat.

There. Now he had his answer, he was able to sleep.

‘W
HAT IS THIS
?’ Imoshen asked as Egrayne dropped the message in front of her. She picked it up, regarding the royal seal with some misgivings.

Egrayne sank into the seat opposite. It was late. They were tired. Between them lay a pile of scribbled notes, the logistics of exile – messages to outlying estates, messages to their ships. They’d been at it all evening, balancing the challenge of reaching port in time to set sail by winter cusp, while delaying as long as possible to bring in the harvest on their estates, since they didn’t know when they would be able to grow their own food again.

Egrayne gestured. ‘Open it.’

Imoshen broke the seal and unfolded the heavy paper. She scanned it quickly, then laughed and handed it to Egrayne. ‘Sorne has been appointed to ensure our exile goes smoothly.’

Egrayne smiled. ‘He’s a clever one. You should–’

Iraayel thrust the door open. ‘It’s Saf. She’s up to something, and I... you should come now. Both of you.’

Imoshen glanced to her voice-of-reason. Saffazi’s fragile beauty hid a strong will and an equally wilful gift. They sprang to their feet, tiredness forgotten.

Iraayel led them out into the corridor up a floor and around to the scriptorium. It was dark. Imoshen tensed as soon as she stepped into the room, her senses alerted by gift-working.

Iraayel cursed. ‘She promised to wait!’

‘What is that girl up to now?’ Egrayne muttered, striding past Imoshen. Egrayne was no longer responsible for her – she had begun her initiate training – but a mother never stops worrying about her children.

Fear prickled across Imoshen’s skin; the gift-working felt too powerful for an initiate to be in control.

Iraayel took off at a run, weaving through the shelves.

‘Wait.’ Imoshen darted after him. ‘Whatever you do, don’t touch her.’

Imoshen reached the lamplit alcove in time to see her choice-son confront a Malaunje youth no older than him.

‘What happened?’ Iraayel demanded.

‘She went ahead. I was supposed to drop my defences, but it didn’t feel right.’

‘Saf?’ Iraayel knelt, reaching for Saffazi, who lay unconscious on the cushions.

‘Don’t!’ Imoshen cried.

Too late.

The moment he touched her, he toppled like a puppet whose strings had been cut. At their side, the kneeling Malaunje youth reached out instinctively.

‘No.’ Imoshen grabbed him by the shoulder.

With a moan, Egrayne sank to her knees next to their two choice-children – beautiful youngsters on the verge of life, lying like discarded toys.

Fatal accidents while learning to harness the gifts’ power were rare, but they did happen.

‘Saf complained that Vittoryxe was holding her back,’ Egrayne whispered. ‘Why didn’t I listen?’

Imoshen took in the little nest they’d made for this illicit gift-working. They’d chosen a secluded alcove that looked out onto the aviary balcony. They’d placed cushions and bedrolls on the floor. And they had invited this Malaunje youth to join them. What were they up to?

‘Look at me.’ Imoshen fixed on the youth’s face, trying to place him. His gaze slid past hers, fear written in his features. He knew they’d been breaking the rules. His cheeks still had the roundness of a boy. Pale skin, mulberry eyes, vivid dark-red lips and hair, a crooked little sixth finger. She placed him. ‘Redraven. What’s going on here?’

‘Saffazi offered to dream-share with me, all-mother.’

‘Dream-share with a Malaunje?’ No wonder he looked guilty.

‘This is not dream-sharing,’ Egrayne said.

Without a word, Imoshen knelt over Iraayel and Saffazi, not touching, trying to sense if their essences were still on this plane. Cold fear seized her. ‘She’s dragged them both onto the higher plane. Iraayel’s unprepared and she’s inexperienced.’

‘We should send for Vittoryxe.’

‘That will take time and–’ Imoshen broke off. They both knew the sisterhood’s gift-tutor would use this breach to belittle their choice-children and undermine their leadership.

‘I’ll bring them back,’ Imoshen decided. Arodyti’s death throes flashed through her mind, making her stomach clench with terror.

‘No, I’ll go,’ Egrayne insisted. ‘We can’t afford to lose our causare.’

‘Anchor me.’ Imoshen dropped her gift-walls and reached for her choice-son before Egrayne could stop her. The moment their skin touched, she let herself go and segued to the higher plane.

She’d been prepared for conflict, but not for this.

Mieren overran the palace, rampaging through the halls, tearing the paintings off the walls, overturning statues and furniture. She could hear their howls and the smashing of glass. For a heartbeat, Imoshen wondered if Saffazi had done the impossible and performed transposition through time.

Then one of the Mieren rounded the corner and she looked into his eyes and knew he was no mortal man. Everything fell into place. The higher plane had taken form from Saffazi’s mind. The city was all she knew, and the night the Mieren stormed the palace had been the most terrifying night of her life.

Until tonight.

Every time the beasts destroyed a painting or smashed a vase, they tore a piece from Saffazi’s essence and devoured it. When they had shredded enough of her, she wouldn’t be able to maintain her concentration and they’d feast on her.

All this passed through Imoshen’s mind in a flash as the predator approached her. Stripped of the illusion, she saw it for what it was: a scraeling, a scavenger. It was not strong enough to tackle her alone, but soon more would come. To defend herself from them she would have to expend power, and that would draw the more dangerous predators, the ones she did not want to test herself against.

Lifting her arms, Imoshen confronted the scraeling as if it were a vicious dog. On this plane, her body was her own creation and she willed a sword and shield into being. The beast dropped back, but did not slink away.

Where were Saffazi and Iraayel?

Imoshen opened her senses and cast about. Felt the lure of power being expended and ran in that direction. The scraeling loped after her. Others joined it.

Rounding a bend in the balcony, she found Iraayel and Saffazi making a stand at the top of the stairs, just as they had done in real life. Iraayel had formed the sword he had used the night he held the steps against the Mieren. At his back, Saffazi fought with the two long-knives. She was an adept of both armed and unarmed combat. They made a beautiful pair.

Iraayel forged towards Imoshen, drawing Saffazi with him. Fingers outstretched, Imoshen reached for Iraayel, who held onto Saffazi. The instant Imoshen touched her choice-son she sought Egrayne through their sisterhood link, felt her voice-of-reason’s presence and followed it back to the earthly plane.

She came to herself lying on the floor amidst the cushions. From where she lay, she watched Egrayne roll Saffazi over.

Despite her ordeal, the initiate was conscious and unharmed.

‘Ma?’ Saffazi sounded seven, not seventeen.

Egrayne hugged her choice-daughter.

Imoshen struggled upright, fighting nausea as she looked for a sign that Iraayel was unharmed. He blinked, staring blankly. Blood seeped from several wounds taken on the higher plane. The moment she touched him, intelligence returned to his gaze.

She hugged him fiercely, shaking with relief. Behind her, she could hear Egrayne assuring herself Saffazi was unharmed, in mind, body and gift.

Egrayne’s tone changed, growing sharper as anger overcame her relief. ‘What were you thinking? You could have been killed. What were you trying to do?’

Saffazi glanced to Iraayel, and Imoshen read her. Saffazi thought he would lie for her. This shocked Imoshen. Until this moment, she’d believed she had Iraayel’s complete loyalty.

‘I had to bring them, Saf,’ Iraayel said, coming to his knees. His hands trembled as he wiped blood from his eyes. ‘I told you this was dangerous. You shouldn’t have tried it.’

‘And I told you that I could handle it.’

‘You were not handling it when I found you.’ Imoshen’s voice shook with anger. Her gift spiked, almost slipping her control. ‘The empyrean plane was devouring you!’

Saffazi flinched.

Imoshen looked down, clenched her hands in her lap, closed her eyes and reeled in her gift until she had regained complete control. When she looked up, her gaze settled on Iraayel and she took in the gash on his forehead. Pressing her sleeve to his head, she muttered, ‘I should’ve sealed those wounds on the higher plane, now they’ll have to heal like ordinary injuries.’

He brushed her hand away. ‘I’m all right. I heard your warning. I chose to go after Saf. I knew what I risked.’

But he didn’t. That he’d managed to hold his own against the lesser beasts of the higher plane was due to the strength of his will alone. That he’d managed to forge a weapon from his gift showed innate ability. Egrayne had identified him as a gift-warrior when she empowered him.

‘Only luck preserved your lives long enough for me to bring you back.’ Imoshen turned to Saffazi. ‘As for you. You dragged Iraayel through to the higher plane and he has not even begun his training there. You could have killed him.’

‘I didn’t mean to.’ Instantly contrite, Saffazi’s lower lip trembled. ‘We were supposed to be dream-sharing.’

Iraayel reached for her, his hands cradling hers with exquisite tenderness.

Imoshen’s heart sank. He loved her, but he was destined to spend his life in a brotherhood. As a mother she would do anything for Iraayel, but she could not protect him from his own emotions.

Imoshen looked away from them, into Redraven’s face. Adoration suffused his features. Him too? What was it about Saffazi that elicited such devotion?

‘This Malaunje youth trusts you,’ Egrayne said. ‘You could have killed him. That you didn’t was due to his good sense and excellent gift affinity. Unless you have great control, dream-sharing and memory-sharing must only be done with someone of equal strength, otherwise your gift will swamp them. We don’t want any more devotees.’

‘You both have devotees,’ Saffazi protested.

‘Roskara became my devotee by accident.’

‘Frayvia also became my devotee by accident,’ Imoshen said quickly. She believed Gift-tutor Vittoryxe was partly to blame for hoarding knowledge and doling it out with irritating condescension. No wonder Saffazi wanted to explore her gift on her own.

When her gift first started to manifest, Imoshen had been in a similar position. Deliberately kept ignorant by her captors, left to discover what she could do by trial and error, she’d been lucky not to get herself killed.

Imoshen was aware of Redraven, still as a mouse, witness to T’En mysteries forbidden to all Malaunje but devotees; and even they were kept ignorant of the deeper mysteries. His ignorance had nearly cost him his freedom, or even his life.

The secrecy surrounding the gifts was dangerous. There were so many things Imoshen wanted to change. If the leaders of the T’Enatuath knew their causare’s true agenda, they would have been horrified.

‘I stole Frayvia’s freedom the night my infant son died,’ Imoshen revealed. ‘Like you, Safi, I didn’t mean to involve her in my gift-working. It happened when we tried to escape Lighthouse Isle. It was almost midwinter, very cold. We ran down to the beach and climbed into a rowboat. They tried to stop us. My bond-partner fought off the attackers, but they tipped our boat over. My newborn was strapped to my chest. It was deep water. I tried to keep his head above water, but one of the attackers sought to drown me. I got away, swam to a rowboat and climbed aboard. The current had taken Iraayel and Frayvia. By the time I dragged them aboard, between the cold and the water, there was no spark of life left in my newborn. I tried to pluck his life essence from the higher plane to restore him. But–’

‘That’s traduciation, Imoshen!’ Egrayne gasped. ‘Absolutely forbidden.’

‘I didn’t know. I was crazy with grief. Frayvia was nearby when I segued onto the higher plane. By accident, I dragged her essence with me. She had no protection from the predators. I had to link with her to save her life. She’s been bound to my gift ever since.’ Imoshen’s voice hardened. She wanted to impress the desperation that had driven her to make this mistake. ‘It is not something attempted lightly, as a dare or for stature, Saffazi.’

The three young people looked down, guilt written large on their faces.

‘This is why I speak of private T’En matters before Redraven. He must know what he risks. To become a devotee is to be linked for life. You–’ Imoshen broke off as she realised the silly boy was so lovesick it probably sounded like a good idea to him.

Egrayne cleared her throat, sending Imoshen a wry look, but the voice-of-reason was all business when she spoke. ‘The creation of a devotee has gone out of favour. If you die, your devotee dies. It is a selfish act.’

There was silence for a moment, as the youngsters digested this.

‘You are dismissed, Redraven,’ Imoshen said. He did not need to be told twice. Springing to his feet, he gave a deep obeisance, hands going to his heart to signify love and then to his head to signify duty, before leaving.

‘I know, I disappoint you,’ Saffazi said to Egrayne. ‘But the gift-tutor is holding me back. I can’t stand–’

‘She’s holding you back for your own good.’

‘But...’

Imoshen caught Iraayel’s eye and they both slipped away.

As they walked in silence, Imoshen wondered if she dared broach the subject of Iraayel’s feelings for Saffazi.

‘Have you heard anything from the all-fathers?’ Iraayel asked.

‘I hear nothing but complaints and accusations from the all-fathers. At least now they are resigned to exile. But to answer your question, no one has offered you a place in their brotherhood.’ It infuriated her; they were taking out their hatred of her on him.

They paused where the passages diverged.

Iraayel said, ‘I’m sorry to be a burden to you–’

‘Don’t say that. You were never a burden.’

‘I was four years old the night your baby died, but I remember your heartbreak. I lived while he died. I wish–’