Kaiku did not like where this was going. It came uncomfortably close to suggesting that Lucia was divine, and she had thought Phaeca above that. 'What are you saying?' she asked.
Phaeca shook her head. 'Nothing,' she replied. 'Just thinking aloud.'
Kaiku lapsed into silence, wondering about this. She had tried to talk to Lucia earlier in the day about her late-night excursion into the forest, but alarmingly she found it impossible to get through. Lucia was not only paying no attention, but she could not bring herself to focus enough to make any sense of Kaiku. She stared right through her as if she were some puzzling phantom, then her eyes would slide away elsewhere.
Whatever was happening to Lucia, she was, as ever, facing it alone. Kaiku was entirely shut out. She could do nothing but worry. Another one of them fell by mid-afternoon.
It was Tsata's cry to his kinsman that alerted them. They did not catch the meaning, phrased as it was in Okhamban, but they understood the tone. Several men clustered around Lucia; the others hurried into the trees towards the source of the sound. Kaiku directed Phaeca to stay, haste making her peremptory, and then went after them. She clambered up a steep rise of land, using roots as handholds and odd gold-veined rocks as steps, and ducked through the foliage and past a thicket of tall, straight trees to where she could see the soldiers' backs in a circle. They made way for her as she arrived.
It was the Tkiurathi woman, Peithre. She lay in Tsata's arms, breathing in thin, rasping gasps, her skin pale. Heth broke through the circle a moment later, and demanded something of Tsata in their native language. Tsata's reply was clear without translation: he did not know what was wrong with her.
'Let me,' said Kaiku. She crouched down in front of Peithre. The ailing woman's eyes fixed on her, a mixture of desperation and pleading. Tsata looked around, searching for the source of what had done such harm, but nothing was evident.
'Tsata, tell her to be calm. I will help her,' she said, not taking her gaze from Peithre's. Tsata did so. Then Kaiku put her hand on Peithre's bare shoulder, and as the soldiers watched her irises changed from brown to bright red.
'She is poisoned,' Kaiku said immediately. She held her hand cupped beneath Peithre's chin, and a dozen tiny flecks, like bee-stings, popped from the skin of the jaw and throat and collarbone and fell into her palm, where they ignited in tiny pyres. 'That plant,' she pointed behind her, at where a patch of curved, thin reeds with bulbous tips rose out of the bank of a tiny brook.
One of the soldiers brandished his sword and took a step towards them.
'Do not touch them!' Kaiku snapped. 'You will kill us all. We will not harm the forest, even if the forest harms us.'
'Can you save her?' Tsata murmured.
'I can try,' she replied; and for a moment they were back in a fog-laden marsh in the Xarana Fault, and it was Yugi and not Peithre who lay dying. But then she had been a clumsy apprentice; now she was a seamstress of the Weave. She closed her eyes and plunged into the golden world, and the Tkiurathi and soldiers could do nothing but wait. Heth muttered to Tsata in Okhamban. They watched the patient closely, observers to a process too subtle for them to understand. Peithre began to sweat, giving off an acrid stink: Kaiku was hounding the poison from her body. Then gradually her breathing slowed. Her eyes drifted closed. Heth exploded into a guttural tirade, but Tsata held his hand up for silence. Kaiku was concentrating too hard to reassure him. Peithre was not dying, not now; but she would have to sleep.
Minutes passed before Kaiku's eyes flickered open again. The soldiers murmured to each other.
'She will live,' Kaiku said. 'But she is very weak. The damage the poison has done is too widespread and too deep for me to repair entirely.'
Heth spoke up in Saramyrrhic. 'I will carry her.'
'It is not that simple. She needs rest, or she may not survive. Her body is at its limits already.' She met Tsata's gaze. 'The poison was very strong,' she said. 'It is a miracle she lived long enough for me to get to her.'
She looked up, and caught sight of Asara standing there, watching her through the trees with singular interest. Then she turned away and was gone, leaving Kaiku faintly perturbed.
'Make her comfortable,' Kaiku said to the Tkiurathi. 'I will speak with Doja.' She got to her feet.
'You have my gratitude,' Heth said uncertainly, glancing at Tsata for approval. He found Saramyr customs as difficult as she found theirs.
'And mine,' Tsata said.
'We are pash, you idiots,' she said tenderly. 'No thanks are needed.'
'You mean we're staying here?' one of the soldiers called in disbelief. All eyes looked to him. He was a black-haired man around his twenty-fifth harvest. She knew him: his name was Kugo.
Kaiku fixed him a hard stare, made harder by the demonic colour of her eyes. She could feel the momentary warmth of cameraderie drain from her. 'That is what I am going to talk to your leader about.'
'We can't stay here!' he said. 'Heart's blood, four of us are dead already; you yourself were nearly a fifth; she was a hair's breadth from being number six. This is only our second day! How long do you think we're going to survive if we just wait around in the forest?'
Kaiku could feel herself tensing, readying for a confrontation. She should have just walked away from this, swept him icily aside. But something inside her would not allow her to let it go, because she knew where this was coming from, and she wanted to hear him say it.
'What would you have us do, Kugo? Abandon her? What if it were you?'
'It's not me. And if it were, or if it were any of these men, I'd stay with them whatever the consequence. We would not abandon our own.' There was a murmur of approval at this. 'But these are not our own,' he said. 'I won't risk my life for foreigners.'
Tsata and Heth did not react to this, but Kaiku did.
'Have you learned nothing?' she cried, walking up to Kugo until she was facing him. 'Why do you think we are fighting this war, you fool? Because we were so ready to let the Weavers scapegoat Aberrants that we never thought to question them! We let them kill children for more than two centuries because we held jealously onto the prejudices that they instilled in us! People like you joined the Libera Dramach to change that. And now, now that Aberrants like me have saved your empire, now that we are following an Aberrant into the heart of the most gods-damned dangerous place on the continent, now you say that these people who are willing to die alongside us are not our own?'
She was in a fury now such as she had rarely been, and the air tautened around her, the tips of her hair lifting in the palpable aura of her rage. Kugo's face was a picture of shock.
'This division is what kills us! Do you not see? You cannot throw away one set of arbitrary prejudices and still maintain another! You cannot decide to accept Aberrants like me and still regard foreigners as lesser than you! Your ignorance condemns us to repeat the same cycle, war after war until there is nothing left! Heart's blood, if your kind ran out of enemies you would start killing your friends! These people,' she gestured at Tsata and Heth, 'could teach you something about unity.'
She grabbed the side of his head with one hand; he was paralysed with fright now. Her voice dropped.
'You will afford the Tkiurathi the same respect you give these other men, or you will have me to deal with.'
With that, she shoved him roughly away and stalked into the forest. Silence reigned in her wake. Tsata watched her leave, his tattooed face unreadable; but he stared at the point where she was lost to the undergrowth for a long time after she was gone. She went to see Doja when she had calmed down, and he agreed that they should stop here for the night and evaluate Peithre's condition anew in the morning.