The Waterless Sea (26 page)

‘That buffoon!' exclaimed Heben. ‘I met him once, last year, at Court,' he told Calwyn in an undertone. ‘He was a fool.'

Darrow glanced at them sharply, and the rebel leader' s cool, thoughtful gaze lingered on Heben.

‘He is a fool,' said Fenn. ‘None of the Clans will support him. The First Prince and his followers want to rebuild the ruins of the Palace. They do not know that it' s impossible without sorcery.' His hand twitched involuntarily toward making the sign against evil. He shot the two chanters a challenging glance, not an apology.

‘Go on,' said Darrow, expressionless.

‘Some of the surviving courtiers have dispersed, and set off for the provinces. Certain members of the Royal House have also disappeared into the desert. One party was seen moving south, toward the mountains.'

‘Heading for Hathara?' asked Heben.

Fenn shrugged. ‘I doubt it. More likely they seek the shelter of the hills and caves, escaping from the soldiers. The Army is our chief concern. It seems the divisions gathered on Martec Plain just after the Palace fell. Their purpose is uncertain. But if they intend to march on the sorcerers' nest, that is where they would start.'

Calwyn frowned. ‘How would they know where to find it?' ‘Amagis,' said Heben. He explained to the others, ‘There was a sorcerer at Court, Amagis. He told some secrets to the Third Princess. Maybe he told the generals, too. Or perhaps the Princess told them what he had told her –' Darrow gave a low whistle. ‘Either way, his brother sorcerers will not thank him for that betrayal.'

‘He' s dead,' said Heben.

‘That' s as well for him,' said Darrow grimly. ‘The brotherhood of ironcrafters hold their secrets close. Their secrets are all they have.'

Fenn was busy scratching diagrams in the dirt. ‘Let' s assume that the Army does intend to march on Hathara. If they come directly through the mountains, they may soon reach the sorcerers' nest.'

‘Then we must get there first,' said Heben, his thin face resolute.

Fenn said, ‘My brother rebels are agreed. Whoever rules the Palace, rules the Empire.' The shadow of a smile crossed his weathered face. ‘With the Palace of Cobwebs gone, whoever holds the Black Palace will rule Merithuros. We must seize the sorcerers' nest without delay.'

‘And set the kidnapped children free,' said Calwyn.

‘That is not our aim,' said Fenn.

‘It is mine!' said Calwyn hotly.

‘And mine,' said Heben.

The rebel leader shrugged. ‘If the children go free, we will not object.'

Calwyn leaned forward, staring into his eyes.‘You might need those children. They could help you defeat the sorcerers, they could help you win your revolution. Why do you scorn them?'

‘I don' t scorn them,' said Fenn. ‘They are welcome to join us, if they wish. As are any chanters.' He and Darrow exchanged a look. Calwyn watched them, not understanding.

Darrow said, ‘Taking the Black Palace will not be easy. The iron-chanters have protected themselves for a long time.'

Fenn smiled, baring his teeth to the firelight. ‘I never thought I would accept aid from a chanter of magic.'

Again he and Darrow exchanged that enigmatic glance.

‘What are you planning?' cried Calwyn.

‘We have managed so far without the interference of women,' said Fenn abruptly. ‘This is no business for your ears.'

Calwyn flushed, and opened her mouth to make a sharp retort, but to her surprise, Heben spoke up first. ‘Calwyn and Mica and Shada can endure as much, and are as able – more able, than many men. If you will take the help of chanters, you should take the help of women. It is your loss, if you do not.'

The corners of Fenn' s eyes crinkled, very slightly, as he looked at Heben. He said mildly, ‘Do not ask me to change all my ways in one day, brother.'

‘You talk of accepting our help!' cried Calwyn hotly. ‘Perhaps you should ask if we are willing to offer it!'

Darrow laid his hand on her arm to silence her. He said calmly to Fenn, ‘We are with you.'

Fenn nodded, then unfolded his legs and strode off to join his companions around the larger fire. Heben followed, asking eager questions about strategy and tactics. Calwyn stared after them. ‘Are you sure we should be helping them, Darrow? Are the rebels the best people to rule Merithuros?'

‘Better the rebels than the Emperor' s puppets. Better the rebels than the sorcerers of the Black Palace. And better all of them together than any group alone.' Darrow stretched out his legs beside the little campfire. Calwyn was unable to read his quizzical expression. ‘Never fear, Calwyn. I know what I am doing.'

Calwyn stared into the fire. She had wanted so much to be with Darrow again, but he wouldn' t confide in her. He had shared secrets with Fenn, but not with her! But she had learned that there was no point pressing Darrow to share his thoughts if he was unwilling.

‘Fenn is an arrogant man. How gracious of him, to accept the help of chanters!' She could not keep the hurt from her voice.

Darrow smiled in the firelight. ‘Do you remember how you showed off your powers to that boy in Kalysons?'

‘The one who teased me, so I froze the spittle in his mouth? I remember how furious you were with me.'

Darrow was silent for a moment while sparks flew into the night. ‘I was harsh with you. You were foolish to use magic in such a place. But I made a similar mistake once, and paid a heavy price for it. That was how I came to be stolen away to the Black Palace myself.'

Calwyn sat bolt upright. ‘You were one of the kidnapped children?'

‘Yes. There is only one path to the Black Palace, and few tread it willingly. There has only been one sorcerer who went there of his own wish, and you can guess his name.'

‘Samis.'

There was silence between them for a time. Calwyn' s voice shook as she said, ‘I can' t bear to think of you as a little boy, stolen away –'

Darrow made an impatient gesture, brushing her words aside. ‘Please, don' t pity me,' he said brusquely. ‘But the Black Palace is a dark place. I want to help these people punch holes in its walls, and let in some light.'

Calwyn stared at his profile in the firelight. Hesitantly she said, ‘Tell me what happened.'

‘Another time, perhaps.' Darrow' s voice was crisp.

Calwyn looked away. After a while Darrow joined the larger group, where Heben' s mournful flute sent a thin thread of music to disappear with the sparks into the darkness and she was left to sit alone.

The next day Calwyn saw what a proper desert caravan looked like. A long row of
hegesi
, laden with neat packs, stretched along the dunes, outlined against the bright glare of the sky. The rebels strode ahead and behind them, swathed in their robes, their heads wrapped in scarves of red and yellow. Halasaa, still unconscious, was carried on a sheltered litter, hung with fluttering scarves. The children, much strengthened and heartened by a day or two' s rest and nourishment, formed one tight-knit cluster. The crew of
Fledgewing
formed another, with Heben among them. At the very head of the procession walked Fenn, beating time on the hand-held drum. His deep, clear voice floated back along the line, chanting words that Calwyn strained to hear.

‘What is he singing?'

‘It' s not a song,' said Heben. ‘It' s the story of Thanar and Lantrisa, the Father and Mother of Merithuros. Thanar lived on the smallest of the moons, and Lantrisa on the largest, and they loved one another across the gulfs of the sky, and met secretly on the third moon. But her father discovered them and swore to kill his daughter for dishonouring him.'

Mica snorted under her breath.

‘They ran away toTremaris, to the forests of Merithuros – there were forests here once, according to the stories – and for a time they hid here in safety.'

‘Not forever?' asked Calwyn, a little wistfully.

‘No. They had many daughters, and when the Seven Warriors came from the sky, they married them, and that was the beginning of the Clans. But Lantrisa' s father pursued them, and cut down all the trees of Merithuros, searching for them. Lantrisa and Thanar fled deeper and deeper into the forest. Her father cut down every last tree to find them. He slayed them both, and their spirits bled into the dust.'

‘Cheerful,' said Tonno.

Calwyn shivered. She seemed to feel the ancient grief creep up from the land through the soles of her feet and into her whole body. ‘What a waste. Murder and destruction, and for what?'

‘This land was built on blood and sorrow,' said Heben severely. ‘Thanar and Lantrisa died to make way for their children. The forests had to be destroyed so that the Clans could flourish.' After a pause he added, in a more uncertain tone, ‘At least, that' s what the stories say.'

‘Then perhaps it' s time for some new stories,' said Calwyn. She stole a sideways glance at Darrow. He walked on steadily, as if he wasn' t listening, but she thought his face looked sterner than usual, and her heart was heavy. All the old distance of last winter lay between them still; nothing had changed since the day he' d sailed away. At the end of the next day, they came to a wall of rock that stretched on and on, in both directions, as far as the eye could see. ‘This is the Lip of Hathara,' said Darrow grimly.

The lip was as high as two men, and it curled over their caravan like a petrified wave about to break. Calwyn strained her eyes to left and right, but nowhere could she see a breach or a low place where they might cross, or even look over it. Like the Wall of Antaris, it had kept the lands of the Merithuran chanters safe for generations.

Fenn conferred with his fellow rebels. ‘Get the ropes,' he instructed. ‘With hooks attached, as we use to cross the mountains.'

Calwyn swung round to Darrow. He and the children could easily open a way through the rock with ironcraft. But he hung back in inscrutable silence, and the children, looking to him for guidance, whispered to one another but did nothing. Tonno glanced at his old friend and chuckled quietly. ‘Reckon I might give them a hand, if you don' t mind. I know a thing or two about ropes.'

Darrow waved his hand, as if to say,
go
.

Heben glanced at Calwyn. ‘Why won' t Darrow help them?' he murmured.

Calwyn had to smile. Heben' s feelings about chantment had changed so much since they' d first met. She said quietly, ‘Fenn is willing to accept the aid of chanters. But he is still too proud to ask for it.'

Heben shook his head and strode forward to offer Fenn his help. The chanters of the company stood by and watched as the rebels, with Heben and Tonno' s assistance, opened the packs and hauled out coils of rope and well-worn slings and pulleys, for the
hegesi
. Fenn and Tonno attached a hook to the end of one coil of rope, and hurled it over the crest of the lip.

But the hook didn' t catch, and the rope slithered back, useless, to their feet. Time after time they struggled to secure the rope, without success. At last Darrow went up to Fenn.

‘What?' The rebel leader was sweating and irritable.

‘The other side of the lip is polished rock. Your hook will never catch.' Darrow looked quizzical, or perhaps it was just the scar that tugged his eyebrow down.

Fenn was silent, winding the rope around his arm. Still he could not bring himself to ask for help.

After a moment, Darrow stepped back, and again the chanters stood silently watching while the rebels tried every means they could to cross the high wave of rock. They sent a
hegesu
trotting up the lip, but it scrabbled back before it reached the curl. Then Fenn himself tried to run up it, clutching at the slippery surface with his bare hands. He managed to cling like a barnacle to the rock for a heartbeat, but then he lost his grip and tumbled back in an undignified heap in the dirt.

Calwyn said to Mica, ‘When I go back to Antaris, I' ll tell them to make the IceWall in this shape.'

Mica looked at her in surprise. ‘Do you think you will go back?'

‘Perhaps. One day.'

‘What for?'

Calwyn was taken aback by the fierceness of Mica' s voice. ‘It' s my home.'

‘No it ain' t. Ravamey' s your home, ain' t it?'

‘Well, yes, but – the place you' re born is always your homeland . . . ' Calwyn' s voice trailed away. She had not been born in Antaris; she didn' t know where she was born. She looked at Mica ruefully. ‘You' re right. Ravamey is the only home I need.'

‘D' you think we' ll ever see it again?' Mica gazed wistfully around at the red desert.

‘Of course we will!' Calwyn put her arm around Mica' s shoulder, and after a moment Mica leaned against her.

Fenn swallowed his pride at last. Dusting himself off, he strode up to Darrow. ‘All right,' he said. ‘Show us your tricks.'

With a faint smile, Darrow nodded, and beckoned the children to stand beside him. The chanters arranged themselves before the towering lip, caught in its perpetual arrested fall. Now it was the turn of the rebels to stand and stare as Darrow raised his hands and let out a low growl of throat-chantment. One by one the children added their voices to his, and the chantment swelled like the roll and rumble of thunder. Darrow swept his hands up and apart, and, with a groan, a deep fissure shot through the smooth rock.

Slowly Darrow spread his hands further apart, and the crack widened, splitting the high wall in two. The chantment grew in intensity, until Calwyn felt that the marrow of her bones was shaken by its vibrations. The chanter children exchanged glances, grinning with triumph. The crack grew wider and wider, until it was broad enough for three people to pass through abreast. Darrow, with a nod to the children, brought his hands up once more, then swept them down and together, pressing one palm against the other. The chantment faded like the echoes of a departing thunderstorm, and died away.