The Waterless Sea (23 page)

I do not know until I have seen her,
came Halasaa' s patient reply, but Calwyn thought his shoulders sagged a little as he went across to the herders.

‘Ain' t there nothin I can do for em?' demanded Mica indignantly. ‘Don' t they need no windworker at all?'

Calwyn smiled. ‘You can fetch their waterskins for me.'

‘If we was at sea, they' d want me over everyone,' muttered Mica as she stomped off.

When the two groups parted, Vin had news to report. ‘They didn' t know anything about the Emperor dying, or the Palace coming down. But they' ve seen many soldiers massed together on Martec Plain, preparing for a march. There' s an uprising in the mining towns of the coast. The rebels have taken over Geel and Phain, and they say they' re planning to march on the Palace of Cobwebs, too.'

‘They won' t find much,' said Heben grimly.

‘We could show them the way to the Black Place,' said Oron. ‘They can pull that down.' Calwyn couldn' t repress a shiver as she looked at his small, sullen face, closed in on itself.

Gently she asked Vin, ‘Did the herders have any news of your family?'

‘They offered to take me back to my father. But I said no. I want to help you first, I want to see the Black Place brought down, like the Palace of Cobwebs.'

Calwyn did not reply. Soon they were under way again, and there was no chance to say anything more. But all through that day her feeling of unease grew. She had thought their purpose in going to the Black Palace was to rescue the other captive children, but she feared thatVin and the others might be more intent on vengeance for what they' d suffered. Perhaps not even Halasaa' s healing could banish that wish entirely.

That night Oron muttered to Vin, ‘You should have gone with them! At least
your
Clan will take you back! Mine never will –' He fell silent as abruptly as he' d spoken.

Vin said nothing, and he soon moved away from the other boy, as if he had a disease that he might catch. To be rejected by one' s Clan was so great a misfortune that even these children could not forgive it. Calwyn went to Oron where he sat alone, and offered him her waterskin. He took it, and drank, but he would not lift his eyes from the ground, and he did not thank her.

On the fifth day, the mountains came into view, a shadowy mass in the south-east. If the chanter children had not told her they were mountains, Calwyn would have taken the shimmer on the horizon for a trick of the desert light.

‘How far is it, Shada?' she asked, when they' d stopped for a brief rest and a hurried meal. ‘How many days did it take to travel between Hathara and the Palace of Cobwebs? Do you remember?'

At once a heated argument broke out. ‘Ten days and nights, on
hegesi
.'

‘No! Longer than that! A turn of the moons, near enough.'

‘But we came through the mountains, stupid. This is the long way round.'

‘But we' re going faster, with the rafts, than we did with
him
.'

‘We have a long way to go yet.'

‘How do you know, Vin, you slept on the
hegesu
' s back all the way –' Calwyn grimaced and passed a waterskin toVin; there were dark circles beneath the older boy' s eyes, and he had let the tent-sail drop three times that day. ‘Drink,' she urged him. ‘Why don' t you swap places with Oron, and come onto the raft with Halasaa and me? It will be easier for you, with three on a raft.' Vin hesitated, then nodded his agreement.

Haid had milked the
hegesi
at dawn, but there was only enough milk for each of them to take one sour, refreshing gulp. ‘They don' t like travelling on the rafts, Calwyn. Their milk will dry up altogether if we keep on like this.'

‘We must use the rafts while we can. If the ground becomes rougher, we' ll have to abandon them.'

‘Without their milk, we may as well butcher the
hegesi
, and just eat them!'

‘If we must,' said Calwyn, and ignored the shocked look that Haid and Heben exchanged. Haid had been provoking her; he hadn' t expected her to take him seriously. To a desert-dweller, a
hegesu
was worth infinitely more alive than dead. To kill an animal that provided milk and wool and dung and transport, just for one meal of meat, was sheer folly. Calwyn understood this, but they couldn' t go on carrying the
hegesi
indefinitely. There was more dry-grass than
arbec
in this part of the desert; it was poor grazing land. The children, for all their bravado, were weaker every day, especially Vin, and she was worried about Halasaa. He had done his best for the sick herdswoman of the I' beth, but he had come back exhausted. He was sitting now, head bowed. His hands, usually so expressive and full of life, hung slack over his knees; he didn' t even brush away the flies that clustered round his face, and she wondered if he were listening to the tormented murmuring of the land.

Yet she wondered if the sighing of the spirits of the trees might not be preferable to the silence that hung so heavy over the desert. There was no birdsong, no rustle of grasses or burbling of streams, not even the gentle breathing of the wind, unless she or Mica set it in motion. For almost a year, Calwyn had lived either on a boat or within the sight and sound of the sea. It was only now that comforting murmur had gone that she realised how deeply she had come to love it.

Her hands shook as she replaced the stopper in the waterskin. She missed the sea, and the island, and Darrow, and Tonno, andTrout. And oddly, she was missing Mica, too. She and Shada spent every moment together. Though Shada was several years younger than Mica, the older girl was protective of her, and they whispered and giggled just as the other novices had done in Antaris, leaving Calwyn out. Calwyn knew this shouldn' t make her feel so hurt and lonely, but it did.

Like Halasaa, she had bad dreams, the same dream every night: that she was searching for Darrow in the rubble of the Palace of Cobwebs, desperate to find him, but at the same time dreading she might find him dead. And in the dream, over and over again, she found not Darrow, but Ched' s small body, or Amagis, grinning lifelessly up at her.

‘Calwyn –' It was Heben.

‘Oh, what now?'

He ignored her irritated tone. ‘I' ve had the looking-tube out. Something' s coming across the plain, from the east, out of the mountains.'

‘Soldiers?'

‘I don' t think so.' He handed her the tube. ‘It looks like
wasunti
.'

At first, all she could see was a cloud of dust, a long way off, heading toward them. Then the shapes in the dust resolved themselves into striped, muscular bodies, moving fast, heads down. Calwyn lowered the tube. ‘There must be thirty or more.'

Heben nodded grimly. ‘It' s a large pack. I hope we can outrun them.'

‘We' ll have to try,' said Calwyn, and Heben called them all to clamber back onto the rafts again.

Periodically through the day Calwyn checked on the position of the pack. For a time it seemed that the
wasunti
were travelling west unaware of the presence of the rafts and their cargo. But by late in the day, their direction was unmistakable. The pack was headed toward them, to cut them off. Heben called a halt.

‘Calwyn, what do you say? Should we keep going, try to lose them?'

‘You know more about the
wasunti
than I do. What do you think?'

‘They have our scent. I don' t think we can lose them now.' Heben hugged Shada protectively to his side.

‘They can smell death,' said Oron, looking pointedly at Vin, who by now could scarcely lift his head.

Vin' s weak voice came from Calwyn' s raft. ‘Leave me here, then. I' ll make a meal for them. It' ll give you some more time.' ‘Don' t talk nonsense,' said Calwyn sharply. ‘We' re not leaving anyone.'

‘You' ve already left one boy behind,' said Oron blandly. As was Merithuran custom when speaking of the newly dead, he did not use Ched' s name. ‘Why notVin?'

Calwyn felt the sting of his words, but she kept her face expressionless.

‘Shut up!' shouted Shada. ‘They rescued us! You think they' d feed us to the
wasunti
?'

‘We could leave them the
hegesi
. That might satisfy them,' suggested Heben, but Calwyn could see that he was unwilling. Calwyn turned to Halasaa. ‘Can you tell what they intend?' Dully he lifted his head.
They mean us ill.

‘Then we must prepare to defend ourselves,' said Heben grimly. The others stared at him, some trustful, some wary, some too exhausted to care.

Only Oron was openly hostile. ‘Defend ourselves? With what?We haven' t any weapons.
Wasunti
hate fire, but we have nothing to burn.'

‘Halasaa can speak with beasts,' said Calwyn. ‘He' ll be able to keep them away –' But Halasaa spoke silently, to her alone.
My sister, I cannot. I
hear their thoughts, but I cannot fend them from us.

Oron couldn' t hear his words, but he saw Halasaa shake his head. ‘He can' t help! What will we do? Blow them away with wind-spells?'

Mica thrust her face close to Oron' s. ‘You want me to practise on
you
?' she spat. ‘Calwyn can drive em away. You' ll see! Can' t you, Cal?'

The sight of Mica' s face turned to her, bright with trust and hope, made Calwyn' s breath catch. ‘It' s true,' she said shakily. ‘Heben, I have some knowledge of the Power of Beasts, the magic that tames animals. Perhaps I can keep them at bay.'

Heben nodded. ‘Very well,' he said brusquely, then he began to call out commands. ‘Haid, Shada, gather the
hegesi
together. Mica, Vin, Halasaa, prop the rafts in a circle, we' ll stretch the tents between them. Vin? Did you hear me? Oron, you collect some stones.You know how to throw a rock, don' t you?'

‘
Wasunti
aren' t afraid of stones,' said Oron sourly, but he obeyed.

While the others made ready, Calwyn watched through the looking-tube as the cloud of red dust drew nearer. Her heart beat as fast as the swift legs of the
wasunti
could run. If she couldn' t hold them off, if the magic failed, then they would be helpless prey for those strong jaws and savage teeth. Oron was right; a pile of stones wouldn' t keep them away for long.
Taris,
give me strength!
she called silently. But the moons were invisible, and Calwyn felt as if the Goddess were far away.

The rush mats were propped in a ring, with the tents pulled tight between them to make a thin barrier. Calwyn could have wept at the pitiful inadequacy of their defence. Haid and Vin knelt at the centre of the circle, trying to keep the
hegesi
calm, but the animals sensed the approach of predators, and strained at their tethers, bleating hysterically. The children stood facing out, weighing stones in their hands, each with a waiting heap of rocks piled at their feet. Mica caught Calwyn' s eye, and gave her a grin of encouragement. Calwyn smiled back, close to tears.

‘
Wasunti
,' she called. ‘
Wasunti
.'

They came at dusk, in the time of the longest shadows, when cold air fell like a shroud over the plain. They came in silence, not running now, but padding slow and soundless across the red dirt, their muzzles at the ground. Calwyn saw their golden eyes on all sides, unblinking, watchful. Watching her.

Oron bent his arm to throw.

‘Not yet!' barked Heben, and a growl rose from a
wasuntu
' s throat, warning them. The
hegesi
bleated frantically, rearing and rolling their eyes. The other
wasunti
began to growl softly. Like a chantment of iron, thought Calwyn wildly. Her voice had dried in her throat. They were watching her, the children, Mica, Halasaa and Heben. Their eyes flickered anxiously between the prowling beasts and herself. They were waiting, all of them, human and animal, waiting for her to act.

Calwyn began to sing.

The ancient song rose in the crisp air, the song she thought of as the song of the bees. Slowly Calwyn turned as she sang, directing the chantment to the beasts that prowled around their fragile circle, trying to push them away with the force of her magic. She held up her hands as she used to in Antaris, to draw the power down from the air, from the moons, from the sky, the realm of the Goddess.

But something was wrong. The chantment was thin and feeble, not grasping firm. The others didn' t know it; Heben and Mica watched, wary but confident, and their hands that held the stones were relaxed. But the
wasunti
knew, and perhaps Halasaa, though when she stole a glance at him, his eyes were closed and he swayed to and fro, far away from her.

The
wasunti
crept closer. Imperceptibly, the circle tightened. The menacing growls threaded through her song, but her chantment did not touch them. It floated over them like smoke.

Goddess, help me!
Calwyn breathed deep, trying to force the power through the ancient words. The ring of amber eyes surrounded them, mocking her. The
wasunti
bared their teeth; ivory gleamed wet in the light of the setting sun. They were very close, their hot breath steaming in the chill air. Behind her, Calwyn heard one of the children sob. The magic would not hold; the power drifted out between the notes like water flowing through a net, like sand trickling between her fingers – That was it. She had called on the Goddess, in her realm between the stars. But this chantment belonged to the land, to the life that sprang from the mud, and the power must come from below.

Tremaris, Merithuros, mother of the
wasunti,
give me strength!
Calwyn breathed in again, drawing up power from the soles of her feet into her whole body and out into her song, and then, only then, she felt it come true. The
wasunti
heard her. She stared into their amber eyes, strong and commanding, and she felt she could understand the ancient words whose meaning had dissolved generations ago: