The Balance of Power (Godsland Series: Books Four, Five, and Six) (47 page)

The lord chancellor noticed their arrival, and a smile played across his face. Allette could not tell if it was a warm or self-satisfied smile; her gut suggested the latter. The thrower looked threatening even when at ease and Allette once again considered fleeing. The problem was that there were only two places to go: back into the darkness or over the ledge. The darkness terrified her, and if the fall from the ledge did not kill her, then the Cloud Forest certainly would. Prior to their trip, Allette had studied the Heights, and the Cloud Forests were said to be just as deadly as the Jaga, only smaller. If even a few of the creatures she had read about really existed there, then they were truly frightening places indeed. There was no solution to this puzzle. The only way out would be for someone to pay for her dragon flight home, and that didn't seem at all likely.

When the lord chancellor approached, he held his hands cupped before him. Sensi put a hand on her shoulder and guided her forward. Allette kept her eyes downcast and stopped when the lord chancellor stood before her. Sensi's hand remained on her shoulder until the lord chancellor cast him a glance that sent him scrambling backward.

"Now then," said the lord chancellor, his face showing no signs of the warmth his tone implied. Allette looked to his eyes; that was where her father said a man held his intentions. There she saw curiosity; something else lingered behind it, but she could not figure out what it was. "You, young lady, face the lord chancellor's wrath for having assaulted a member of my guard."

Allette said nothing.

"Come with me; let us be apart. Let us enjoy the view."

The lord chancellor drew Allette along and brought her to the very edge of the jutting rock on which they stood. It had been cut, carved, and polished, but rock it would always be. Something in that comforted Allette, and she didn't know why. That comfort did little to quell the unrest in Allette's belly. Her current vantage showed just how deadly the fall could be. A sheer rock face dropped away for a goodly distance, and below that, loose rock formed a slope that disappeared into the mists. It didn't look as if the fall meant certain death, but it did look as if it would guarantee injury. Wandering into the Cloud Forest when injured would mean certain death. If the lord chancellor were looking to soothe her fears, this was a poor place to do it. That reason convinced her his pleasant tone was a ruse.

"There is no one to speak on your behalf and no one for me to grant custody. You put me in a very difficult position. But I am not cold of heart. We will go through the exercise with the thrower as a matter of formality, but you have nothing to fear."

Allette maintained her silence, almost certain there would be something more.

"First, though, I've a small thing to ask of you."

Allette looked up, knowing this was his true game but having no idea what to expect. When he opened his cupped palms, her heart nearly stopped.

"Grab hold of this, here, around the handle."

In his hands was a small metal figurine, slender and seemingly frail. The figure was of a woman in a flowing robe, her hands at her sides; one holding what looked like a bolt of lightning, and the other holding something she did not recognize. The metal was cool to the touch and felt good in her hands, even if fear nearly overwhelmed her.

"Yes. Just like that," the lord chancellor said, his cold, blue eyes watching her intently.

Allette almost dropped the figurine when it began to move. Something registered in the lord chancellor's visage, but it was gone in an instant. Allette was left to wonder what it meant when the figurine's arm, the one with the lightning bolt, rotated until the lightning bolt was held above its head. Allette hadn't even noticed the joint required for such movement, which had cleverly been concealed through remarkable craftsmanship.

Taking the figurine back from her, the lord chancellor concealed it within his palms again before turning back to those who waited. "The thrower will decide her fate," he said when he turned around. "Long live the thrower."

"Long live the thrower," echoed those assembled, though they did so with little enthusiasm, as if this were merely the formality Sensi had mentioned. When the lord chancellor turned to the thrower and gave him an almost imperceptible nod, Allette's stomach clenched. If she let that big man get his hands on her, there would be no escape. Still, no other route presented itself, and she found herself standing before the thrower. His face deep in shadow, Allette could glean nothing from him. He might as well have been stone for all the emotion she sensed.

Hands the size of melons descended on her, and meaty fingers gripped her shoulders. Allette was much shorter than this man, and he had to stoop down to grab a hold of her. Still no emotion came from within the dark hood. The thrower began turning them in a circle. Faster and faster they turned; the mountain and the open air flashing by in an alternating pattern that churned Allette's guts. Still, the man's grip remained firm, and still he spun them faster. The force of the spinning motion felt as if it would send Allette soaring into the open air even if the thrower did maintain his grip on her, which he did not.

The release of his grip came suddenly. The darkness of black rock had just flashed by, which meant she would be flying toward the cliff. As soon as his fingers relaxed, Allette acted on instinct, knowing she was about to die. One did not grow up on a ship and not learn self-defense. Allette's subconscious seemed to know then that the thrower would kill her. Instead of fighting their momentum, Allette grabbed the thrower's robes and threw herself at the stone, just before the edge. Her back hit stone and she continued to slide toward the ledge. Curling up beneath the thrower, who was already over leveraged from leaning so far forward, Allette prepared herself for one massive thrust. Planting her feet on the big man's chest and continuing to pull him forward, Allette thrust her legs, despite the man's desperate, last-second appeal. The word
no
was still pouring from him as the thrower sailed over the edge. A moment later, his cry ended abruptly.

Allette turned to see all those behind her stunned. Her hands and legs trembling, she knew she had to think and act fast. She had just killed the thrower, and there would be no forgiveness for her now, if there had ever been any in the first place. The lord chancellor took a step toward her, released from his paralysis sooner than the others as one of the guards stepped toward her as well. Her time had run out.

It was then that she looked at the place where the jutting balcony met with the sheer face, and she saw that the face sloped away and downward at a steep but more manageable angle than from where the thrower had gone. Without another thought, she bolted, using all the speed and agility she possessed, which was considerable. A stone railing surrounded most of the balcony, making it less likely that spectators would join the accused in going over the ledge. Allette planted one arm on the rail and vaulted over, not knowing exactly what awaited her below.

The fall seemed impossibly long, and when her boots finally struck stone, her knees buckled and sent her tumbling forward. Rotating, she came back to her feet on the steep, rocky slope. Her momentum carried her forward, and she danced over the loose stone. There was only so much her dexterity and reflexes could do, and Allette soon found herself tumbling down the slope, her body tucked into a ball in an attempt to minimize the damage. It was too much; she felt as if she would be dashed to bits. Squeezing her eyes shut, she dug deeply into the place from which her strength had always come, the place that had saved her after her mother's death. There she found quiet, peace, and strength; there she was separate from the pain.

When at last she stopped, Allette lay sprawled on stones that dug into her skin. She should be dead, but she was not. The world spun. When finally it slowed enough for her eyes to focus, she saw the lord chancellor, Sensi, and the people of the Heights looking down, and then they drew back and were gone. Allette was alone.

Chapter 4

In the fields of heaven are sown the seeds of stars, and some go astray.

--Brother Milo, Cathuran monk

* * *

When Benjin and Fasha entered the galley, all eyes turned to them. This was their ship, and it went where they wished; it was something Sinjin tried not to forget. These people were all his friends, but they did not always want the same things that he did. Of course, at that moment, he wasn't certain what he wanted. Fingering Koe in his pocket, he let the cool smoothness of it soothe him. The staff lay across his lap, and his other hand stroked its lustrous finish. The items had brought him pain at times, but they also brought solace depending on his state of mind.

"Thank you for feeding our newest crew members," Fasha said, and Benjin smiled, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

"I can't wait to see this one swab the deck," he said, pointing to Kendra.

She just stuck her tongue out at him, though she quickly pulled it back in her mouth when Fasha raised an eyebrow.

"We're a day or so from picking up your grandfather and great-uncle," Benjin said. "After that, it's but a matter of weeks to get back to the Godfist."

Kendra shook her head, as if trying to reconcile the speed and distances involved.

"I know," Benjin said. "I still can't quite believe it myself, and my own daughter making it possible. What will this world bring me next?"

"Bread and stew without most of the vegetables, I'm afraid," Millie said as she handed them steaming bowls and hearty chunks of bread.

Both sat and ate.

"What if Trinda is unwilling to let us return to the Godfist?" Sinjin asked while Benjin blew on his soup.

"Since when do you need Trinda's permission to enter your own home?" Kendra asked, incensed. They'd had these words before.

"I know I've the right to do so, but that doesn't make it the right thing to do."

Benjin nodded and sipped his soup.

"I think the Arghast would accept us," Sinjin continued.

Kendra snorted. "You must retake Dragonhold. It's the only way."

"Trinda controls Dragonhold; I do not," Sinjin said. "Trinda has power; I do not."

"Power is not in the fist of the leader but in the fists that rise to his command!" Kendra said with conviction.

"I don't disagree with the girl on that part," Benjin said. "Though she'll have to concede that a leader must consider the lives that would be lost. If, on the other hand, Trinda would relinquish your grandfather's farm and the cold caves back to their rightful owner, then we would have all we needed."

Kendra made a rude sound in her throat. "How will you ever sleep at night, knowing that her assassins are out there, waiting to kill your family?"

Sinjin had to think a moment before answering. When he drew a breath to speak, Kendra started speaking first.

"You have strength," she said, gripping his shirt and pulling him just a little closer. "You have warriors and scoundrels and you've got me. Did you even consider that?"

Sinjin nodded; he had considered it. He'd lost enough already; he didn't want to lose any more.

"You don't have to go back to the Godfist at all," Fasha said, and Benjin gave her a dark look. It would appear that they'd had these words before. "There are beautiful places we found, perfect places to raise a family, perfect places to disappear."

Kendra didn't appear to have the courage to scoff at Fasha, but she looked like she wanted to. Sinjin took her scowl as a no. After what might have been considered a polite interval, Kendra spoke again. "It's not just the people on this ship who'll follow you," she said. "Most of the people within Dragonhold will rise to your call, but call them you must!" The last was said as if there were no way anyone could argue her point.

A note of sadness colored Sinjin's voice when he responded. "There are some who are loyal--of that there can be no doubt--but I think the number is smaller than you might believe. My mother's ideas were rarely popular, but she had the power and image to make things happen anyway, or at least somewhat. But the average person cares about feeding their family, and war feeds no children."

"Not war," Kendra said. "A coup."

"I don't know," Sinjin said. Then he had to hold on as the ship slowed, gently at first, then abruptly when the ship reentered the water. Before everyone had themselves settled back into their spots, Pelivor walked into the galley, the smile fading from his face when he saw the looks from the others.

"Could you please give us some warning before you do such things?" Millie said, even as she retrieved stew and bread for him. Sinjin just waited for it. "The stew is missing the vegetables because someone was inconsiderate and didn't let the cook know before turning the ship on its side."

"Well, I didn't know," he began, but Millie cut him off with a look. "There were black ships coming, and I didn't turn the ship on its side so much as--" Again, she cut him off with an outraged look, glancing down at her vegetable-stained smock. "I'm sorry," Pelivor said. "I'll warn you next time before I do anything inconsiderate or stupid."

"That's all I'm asking," Millie said, her arms waving in the air.

Morif just shook his head.

She rounded on him. "What are you laughing about?"

Morif just waved his hands in front of him as if to ward off her attack, and he started laughing.

"You big oaf," Millie said with half a smile. "The next time, I'll make you clean up all of it. I'd make you cut up more if we had it, but supplies are hard to keep on a ship. It's just wasteful, I tell you. Disgraceful is what it is."

Morif stood and cleared the bowls, but he walked away shaking his head, and Sinjin thought he saw the big man's shoulders move as he chuckled. Sinjin envied Morif in that moment; his ability to remain happy no matter what others thought of him was something Sinjin could take a lesson from. Though he wasn't certain how he would do it, he vowed to get there someday. In the meantime, he hoped he hadn't made Kendra too angry. That was when it occurred to him that Gwen hadn't joined them.

Since Kendra didn't seem to be enjoying his company, Sinjin took a clean bowl from Morif and filled it with stew. After pulling a sizable chunk of bread from the loaf, he walked toward the hatch, still getting his sea legs and using the staff for support. The flight had been mostly steady and smooth, and it was a sudden and disorienting change. Part of him wanted to get the ship back in the air, but bad weather was coming. Near the stern, he found Gwen, standing with her hands still resting on the wooden tubes. He would have thought she'd want to be away from there, eating or resting, but she seemed content, her eyes closed and her breathing deep. For a moment, he considered leaving her alone since he did not want to interrupt.

"Don't even think about walking away with that food," she said when he started to turn, her eyes still closed, but a small smile on her lips.

"I never could sneak up on you," Sinjin said.

"Still can't," she said, "but since you came bearing food and using the staff, I suppose you weren't trying all that hard."

Sinjin handed her the food. He would ask no questions while she ate, as that would be rude, but he also sensed impatience from her. Still, he waited. Finally she set the bowl aside and just looked at him.

"Were you going to come into the galley and eat with us?" he asked.

The look Gwen gave him in response made it clear he was walking a dangerous path. "I was waiting for
her
to leave."

"Who?" Sinjin asked, immediately wishing he hadn't. By the time the word left his lips, he knew the answer. Now Gwen's face grew sharp and angular, and her eyes danced with fire. That was no twinkle, and Sinjin knew it. "Wait."

"I've had enough waiting," Gwen said, though Sinjin knew it hadn't been his fault that they'd been apart for so long. Always before their relationship had been something of a game between them, just like the enmity was. After a long silence, she said, "I see how she looks at you."

Sinjin could have laughed, but he resisted the urge. There was nothing to be jealous of. He had no chance with Kendra or Gwen; both were impossible relationships. He'd always known, deep down, that Gwen would end up with someone else. Some people lived life; Gwen rode it like a spring colt. Whatever she felt, she felt passionately, and Sinjin always managed to find himself on the wrong end of those passions. His relationship with Kendra was purely circumstantial; she'd been close to him because there had been absolutely no one else to be close to. Part of him knew there were some cracks in his theory, but he was trying very hard not to think about those.

"It's really good to see you again," he finally said, not knowing what else to say. Then he added, "You look nice."

Though she seemed to be trying not to appear swayed by the compliment, Sinjin couldn't help notice her toss her hair. The reason he couldn't help notice was that she'd always been able to do that to him. A toss of her hair, an innocent look, or a twinkle in her eye had always rendered him useless in an argument. If he ever did manage to win, she would cry and get what she wanted anyway. For all these reasons, Sinjin did his best to choose his words carefully, yet the words he spoke slipped out anyway, "I have no home."

There was a catch in his voice when he said it, and he could almost see something inside Gwen change in that moment. There was no more feigned anger or resentment, no more coy interplay; for that moment, he saw his old friend. With tears welling in her eyes, Gwen hugged him, and they both cried. It was at that moment that Kendra emerged from the galley, clearly looking for Sinjin. When she saw him, her face reddened and she turned away as quickly as she could. After a word with Morif, she disappeared into the deckhouse. That was a problem Sinjin would have to solve another time. As it was, Gwen had pulled back, an uncertain look in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Me too."

"Your parents were good people," she said, and Sinjin bit his quivering lip. "And you always have a home with us."

Though he knew it to be true, Sinjin could not imagine himself as a sailor; he'd spent most of his life within walls of stone, and being surrounded by nothing other than air and water seemed unnatural. He would need to find somewhere to call home. It was from the Greatland that they fled, and Sinjin had no desire to ever go back. Dragonhold, the only place he did fit in, was now controlled by someone whom he had barely tolerated. Though he'd been kinder to Trinda than most had, he had hurt her feelings on numerous occasions. It shamed him that it was only after realizing he might actually need her for something that he felt bad for mistreating her. Perhaps he was not as charitable a soul as he'd always liked to think.

Though she remained silent, Sinjin could feel Gwen's eyes on him, and he met her gaze. There was kindness there and vulnerability; that perhaps frightened Sinjin more than anything else.

"Is it hard?" he asked when he could find no other words. "Making the ship fly, that is. Is it difficult?"

Gwen pressed her lips together for a moment, and Sinjin feared he'd upset her, but then she just nodded and smiled. "I don't actually make the ship fly," she said. "Pelivor does that. I just make it go faster. And yes, it's difficult and tiring, but we can do it for long periods of time nonetheless."

"Have you tried to do what Pelivor does?"

"I've tried a number of times," Gwen admitted. "I can affect the movements of the ship, but I've never been able to make her fly. Pelivor was the one who thought of using the thrust tubes, but still he cannot use them for very long. He is better suited to flying, and I am better suited to thrust. Sometimes we play off each other's energy, but the truth is that Pelivor can fly the ship without me as long as there is wind; without him, I wouldn't be able to make much speed with the ship in the water, but I could keep her moving."

"That's amazing," Sinjin said, trying not to reveal that he felt more than a little jealous. He was, after all, powerless. He possessed some of the most potent artifacts in all of Godsland, but he could do nothing with them. That was when he made up his mind and pulled Koe from his pocket. Gwen's eyes were immediately drawn to the carved cat with its aggressive stance. Of course, it was the only dragon ore carving known to exist. "This does me no good. But I bet you could fly the ship using it. Here, take it."

The look of awe on her face soon changed to fear, and she pulled away. "Too much," she said. Sinjin quickly put Koe back in his pocket. When he looked back to Gwen, there were tears in her eyes. "You have the most precious, beautiful, and dangerous thing in the world, and you want to give it to me."

Sinjin opened his mouth to speak, but Gwen didn't give him the chance. Instead, she grabbed the empty bowl and moved quickly past him and into the galley. Feeling like a fool, Sinjin tried to figure out where he'd gone wrong.

"They're all like that, you know," Benjin said. Sinjin hadn't realized the man had walked up behind him. "They think so much differently from us that they all seem crazy, or you end up feeling like a complete fool. Am I right?"

Sinjin just nodded and Benjin laughed. "I should probably never give advice on women, but you need to start by accepting the fact that you'll never completely understand them; it's against the laws of nature. Haven't you ever wondered why tomcats fight or why stud horses kick trees? Women . . . that's why."