‘Yes.’
‘Why so old yet unmarried? What’s wrong with you, Ahn?’
Stung, she raked a clawed hand at his face but he flinched aside, catching her wrist. ‘Now I see why,’ he laughed. ‘Too much of a temper. Well … we’ll see about that.’
She wrenched her hand free — or he allowed her to. ‘What are you going to do?’
He ignored her, gestured to one of his men. ‘Have them prepare a meal for us.’
‘Yes, Kenjak.’
Saeng stared anew at the fellow — hardly older than she. ‘Kenjak Ashevajak? The Bandit Lord?’
He smiled, clearly very pleased. ‘Ah! Heard of me, have you?’
Saeng looked away, damning herself for the outburst. ‘I have heard stories.’
He brushed errant strands of her hair from her shoulder. ‘You can tell me them all — tonight.’ She slapped his hand aside but he walked off, laughing.
Saeng caught a pitying look from the old woman. ‘I’m sorry, child,’ she murmured. ‘There is no succour here.’
‘I’m no child,’ Saeng growled, pulling at her tangled hair. She eyed the surrounding huts and fields. Hanu, wherever you are, stay hidden! I’ll handle this.
Under the watch of the bandits the villagers prepared a meal first for them, then for the roped gang of captives squatting in the square. Kenjak had Saeng sit next to him in the largest of the village huts. He offered her food pinched in his fingers, which she refused, much to his amusement.
As the evening darkened and the rains began, the young man turned to her again. He leaned back on an arm, saying, ‘So … tell me these stories,’ and he chewed on coconut meat, watching her steadily.
‘I could tell you what I have heard of your past …’ she began, slowly, ‘or I could tell you your future.’
The bandit leader stopped tossing pieces of dried coconut into his mouth. The talk around the low table among the man’s lieutenants died away. His gaze narrowed and Saeng was shaken to see for the first time true cruelty in someone’s eyes. ‘You are a witch?’ he asked, his voice flat.
She shrugged. ‘I have some small talents.’
Kenjak peered around the table, a mocking smile now on his lips. ‘This one claims to be a witch,’ he said, chuckling. ‘She is trying to scare us, I think.’ The gathered men and women eyed one another, laughing uneasily. ‘Go ahead. Read my future. Don’t you need a chicken? Or prayer sticks, perhaps?’
‘No. Nothing like that. I simply need to concentrate on the night.’
‘Be my guest, little witch.’
Saeng settled herself and stared out the door to the dark where the captives still squatted, hunched and wretched, in the now drumming rain. Peripherally, she saw the bandits’ hands sliding across their laps to the wood and bone grips of knives in their sashes. Kenjak, next to her, had not moved and she realized that they were now locked in a game neither could back away from: he displaying his fearlessness and she — to his mind — attempting to terrify everyone. She had no doubt he was not bluffing; he would kill her if he so chose. But what he did not understand was that she was not bluffing, either.
Saeng now attempted something she’d never dared before, and reached out to her brother. ‘Hanu,’ she called through the arts taught her by the shades. ‘Do you hear me?’
‘Saeng? Is that you?’ came his astonished reply.
‘Yes. Do not show yourself! Leave this to me.’
‘I am watching. If anyone-’
‘No! They mustn’t see you.’
‘Well?’ Kenjak urged. ‘We’re waiting.’
‘I see your death,’ she announced, proud of the steadiness of her voice.
‘I am grey-haired and between the legs of my favourite concubine, no doubt.’
Saeng tilted her head, squinting into the night. ‘No. You-’ She broke off then, her voice catching in surprise as an image did suddenly come to her. Kenjak in darkness, a cave, or underground, the mark of death upon him. ‘Fear the underground, Kenjak. You will die there.’
For an instant the man’s face drained of all blood. He leaped to his feet, drawing his knife. ‘Who told you this, whore?’
Screams sounded from the darkness and the hissing curtains of rain. Kenjak waved out two of his men then returned his attention to her.
Saeng knew what lay behind the screams. She had sensed them gathering: the Nak-ta. ‘Go away!’ she ordered.
‘You summoned us …’ came the cold reply.
‘I did not!’
‘The violence of your thoughts did. We come to serve. Give them to us …’
‘Look!’ one of the bandits called, pointing to her. Saeng looked down at herself. Blue ghost-flame flickered upon her lap and arms. ‘Kill her!’ the man shouted, terrified.
Kenjak thrust. But it seemed to Saeng that she merely touched his arm and he flew in an eruption of the ghost-flame to crash into a wall. The table, everyone else, all were flung backwards to strike the walls in a storm of writhing fire that lashed about her while she stared, dumbfounded, at her flaming hands.
Everyone scrambled for the door and windows, crying and screaming their terror.
‘They are ours!’ came the savage cry of bloodlust from the gathered Nak-ta.
‘Touch them not!’ Saeng demanded. ‘Obey me!’
She felt a slow reluctant acquiescence chill her. ‘We … obey.’ Beneath the admission she sensed the unspoken for now …
Heavy steps announced Hanu’s arrival into the swirling storm of blue flame. Stooping, he scooped her into his arms.
‘I told you to stay away.’
‘I guess your methods are just too subtle for me.’
She almost laughed but sudden exhaustion settled her head against his chest instead. He carried her out into the rain, past the gaping captives struggling with their bonds, tramping on into the dark woods, pausing only to open the umbrella above her.
Dimly, as she rocked into sleep, she was aware that her brother was walking past and through the flickering pale flames that were the assembled restless ghosts and spirits of the land — none of which he seemed able to see.
* * *
During their voyage west Shimmer came to the opinion that K’azz was avoiding her. It took almost an entire day to finally catch the man leaning against the ship’s side. An achievement on his part, considering the restricted size of the vessel. She rested her weight on her forearms next to him while the blustery contrary winds of this stretch of frigid ocean lashed their hair and clothes. Among the rigging the sailors shouted back and forth in a constant panic to trim the canvas.
‘A stormy crossing,’ she offered her commander.
His gaze on the white-capped waves, the man nodded his assent. ‘I’m told it is the steep temperature change from the ice fields to the warm coastal waters.’
‘Jacuruku is warm then?’
‘Yes, just as all the stories say. Like Seven Cities, but with a long season of rains.’ The man raised his chin to the western sky. ‘Which we’re entering now.’
Shimmer glanced up past the foredeck. A front of dark clouds marred the horizon. ‘Dangerous?’
‘Just unrelenting.’
‘And these Dolmens? What of them?’
K’azz’s tanned leathery features clenched and his pale gaze returned to the waves. ‘Yes? What of them?’
‘What is there?’
Her commander brushed his hands on the cracked paint of the rail. Shimmer felt a chill as, for an instant, the slim hands appeared skeletal. ‘A wild power that mustn’t be disturbed. That is all anyone need know.’
‘How do we know Ardata isn’t lying about all this?’
‘She would not lie about that.’ He leaned more of his weight upon the rail. ‘Not that.’