Settsimaksimin laughed, swung his hand toward Kori. “I’ve a new student for you, Shahnfien Shere. Take her and teach her and keep her out of my hair.”
“That bad, eh? You interest me.”
“Thought I might.”
“You paying for her or what?”
“I pay. Would I bring you here else? I know you, love.” He shifted position, looked sleepily amused, his real weariness nowhere visible. Kori watched with astonishment, fear, hope, reluctant respect. “A hundred gold a year, with a bonus given certain conditions. She’s…” he frowned at Kori, “… thirteen or thereabouts, ten years bed, board and training.” He ran his eyes over the sleeping shift that fell in heavy folds around her thin body. ‘And clothing.”
“For you, old friend, just for you, I’ll do it.”
“HAIL” A rumbling chuckle. “She’d do you proud, Shahntien.”
“You mentioned a bonus.”
“Young Kori, her name is Kari Piyolss, she isn’t too happy about leaving home right now. She’s clever, she’s got more courage than sense and she’s stubborn. The first time she tries to get away from you, whip her. If she tries twice and you catch her at it, kill her. That’s what the bonus is for. You hear that, Kori?”
Kori pressed her lips together, closed her hands into fists. “Yes.”
“You see, Shahntien? Already plotting.”
“I see. How clever is she? Enough to stay quiet and learn until she thinks she knows how to avoid being caught?”
“Oh yes. I’m counting on you, Shahntien, to prove cleverer still and keep her there the whole ten years.”
“Take her now?”
“In a moment.” He shifted to face Kori. “Apply yourself, young Kori. Remember what I told you. Your brother will sleep forever unless you come for him, so be very very sure you know what you’re about.”
“Now?” Kori drove her nails into the soft wood of the bench. “What about…”
“Nothing here matters to you any longer, child. Stay well.”
A gesture, a polysyllabic word and she was in the other pentacle tight up against the woman who put a thin strong arm about her shoulders. A gesture, a word and both of them were elsewhere.
Maksim carried the bench back to the corner, piled the scattered scrolls on it again. He straightened, stretched, rubbed at his chest. Grimacing, he crossed to the wallcoffer, poured out some of the cordial and gulped it down, followed it with a swallow of brandy to wash away the taste. He leaned against the wall and waited for the strengthener to take hold, then snapped to his bedroom to get the rest he so urgently needed.
12. Uphill And Nasty.
SCENE: Black sand sloping up to an anonymous sort of scraggly brush. High tide, just turning, foam from the sea, white lace on black velvet, out on the dark water, white sails dipping swiftly below the horizon. Isspyrivo a black cone directly ahead, twice the height of the other peaks. It is several folds back from the shore, perhaps fifty miles off.
Brann shoved a hand through her hair. Daniel was a little drunk again. A thousand maledictions on old ‘llingjii’s head, wishing that pair on me. One of them sneaking whiffs of dreamdust, the other afloat in a winy sea. She began pacing restlessly beside the retreating surf, small black crabs scuttling away from her feet into festoons of stinking seawrack; every few steps she stopped to kick black grit out of her sandals. What now? We should get started for the mountain. Walk? She snorted. Take a whip to get this party marching. Ahzurdan had performed nobly during the attack, they owed their lives to him, perhaps even the children did, but she couldn’t be sure he’d come through next time. Half an hour ago, when she went to fetch him, the smell of hot dust in that cabin was strong enough to choke a hog. The young thief was right, once you smelled that stink you didn’t forget it. He was sitting on the sand now looking vaguely out at the vanishing sails of the Skia Hetaira, probably he regretted getting off her Daniel drifted over to him, offered the wineskin. Danny
One stared at Danny Two, dislike hardening the vagueness out of his face, then waved him off. Like a bratty child, not the man he was supposed to be, Daniel kicked sand on the sorceror and wandered away to sit on a chunk of lava, one of several coughed up the last time Isspyrivo hiccupped.
Brann sighed and thought longingly of Taguiloa and the dance troupe, there was much to be said for the energizing qualities of ambition. She watched the changechildren playing with the sand; its blackness seemed to fascinate them. Jaril and Yaril were appreciably taller and more developed after the battle with Amortis. She suspected that some of the fire pouring through them had lingered long enough to be captured and it triggered that spurt of growth. What that meant was something Brann didn’t want to think about right now. Going god-hunting to feed young adults, yaaah! She shook her head, waved the children to her.
“Jay, Yaro, if we’re going to get that pair up the mountain, we’d better have transport.” She looked from one scowling face to the other, sighed again. “No argument, kids. Chained God wants them, Chained God is going to get them. Besides, we need Ahzurdan. Our fighting isn’t done. Maksim’s not about to lay down and let us dance on his bones.”
Jaril wrinkled his nose. “You want horses? These Valens seem to run more to mules.”
She frowned at Daniel Akamarino and Ahzurdan. “Mules might be a good idea, they’ve got more sense than horses. Probably got more sense than the pair that’ll be riding them. Ahh…” She chewed on her lip a moment, rubbed at her back. “See what you can do. We should have two, preferably three mounts. Be as quiet about it as you can, one thing we don’t need is a posse of angry copers hunting mule thieves. Um. Dig out three gold, leave them behind to calm the tempers of the owners.”
The children hawkflew away, powerful wings digging great holes in the air. Brann watched them until they melted into the night, then she walked a short way off to sit on a chunk of lava. You there, Maksim? You sitting there working out how to hit us next? She shivered at the thought, then she stared angrily at the empty air overhead. Ariels circling about up there, looking at us, listening to us, carrying tales back to the sorceror sitting like a spider in his web of air. I wonder how fast they fly. Never thought to ask Ahzurdan. Doesn’t really matter, I suppose. Shuh! makes my skin itch to have things I can’t see watching me. They can’t read what’s in my head, at least there’s that. Or can they? Ahzurdan says they can’t. Do I trust him enough to believe him? I suppose I do. What am I going to do when this is over? Can’t go back to the pottery. Arth Slya? Not as long as I have to keep feeding the children. I don’t know. Slya’s Fire, I hate this kind of drifting. A goal. Yes. A goal. Bargain with the Chained God. He needs me or he wouldn’t be weaving all this foolery to get me to him. If he wants my help, he can see the children changed again, let them feed on sunlight not the soul-stuff of men. Set them free from me. What if he says he can’t do it? Do I have to believe him? The talisman, yes, that talisman Maksim has, it compels Amortis, if I learned to use it, could I compel Red. Slya to undo what she has done? And if not that one, perhaps another? Ahzurdan said there were twelve of them. Which one would twist your tail, Hot Slya? She swung around and examined the featureless cone of Isspyrivo, black against the deep purple of the predawn sky. A fire mountain. When I was a child, I thought Slya lived solely in Tincreal. Not so, not so, she’s in earthfire everywhere. Shall I sing you awake, my Slya? What side would you be on if I did? Shuh! Boring, this going round and round, piling ignorance on ignorance. She sprang to her feet. “Daniel. Daniel Akamarino. Play a song for me.” She dropped to one knee, unbuckled a sandal, balanced on one foot, kicked the sandal flying, then dealt with the other and jumped up. “Like this.-She whistled a tune she remembered from Arth Slyan fetes on the Dance Floor by the Galarad Oak, began swinging in circles on the drying sand. “Something something something like this. Play Daniel play for me play for the ariels up there spying play for the wind and the water and the dawn that’s coming soon. Play for me Daniel I want to dance.”