Another silence, broken this time by Serrah. ‘We have people back on the island who can help you,’ she promised. ‘Magicians, scholars-’
He shook his head. ‘The clans couldn’t master it, for all their resources, and they would dearly have loved to. Respect to your sorcerers, but what chance would they have?’
‘If it’s so powerful,’ Kutch asked, ‘why did the Founders leave the Source to be discovered? Why didn’t they destroy it, or at least hide it better?’
‘Perhaps whatever catastrophe overtook them was too swift. But I suspect the real reason is because even the Founders couldn’t better it. My feeling is that it can’t be understood and, as long as magic fuels it, it can’t be destroyed.’
‘That’s a cheerful prospect,’ Serrah returned mordantly.
‘There’s nothing joyous about any of it,’ Mahaganis informed her. ‘Unless you count the fact that the magic locked in my head has kept me going far beyond my natural lifespan. But that can be a mixed blessing, can’t it, Reeth?’
Caldason ignored that, and posed a question of his own. You still haven’t told me why the clans targeted my tribe for butchery.’
‘Your kin were irrelevant, except insofar as they might have protected you. Or at least they were of no consequence to the client who commissioned the slaughter. You were the only real target.’
‘Why? And who-’
‘There are some things you’re ready to hear, others not.’ He was massaging his forehead. ‘We’ve spoken enough about all this for the moment.’
‘Have we? Have we really? I’m not a child anymore, Mahaganis. I don’t need to be sheltered and lied to.’
‘Not now, Reeth. I don’t feel too good.’
‘To hell with that. Answer me.’
‘Leave him alone!’ Wendah demanded. ‘Can’t you see he’s ill?’
‘Would it hurt him that much to tell me?’ Caldason’s temper was rising.
Serrah caught his arm. ‘What are you going to do, Reeth, beat it out of him?’
Caldason sighed. He regarded the frail old man and the emaciated girl at his side.
‘No,’ he said. ‘What we’re going to do is get you two out of here.’
25
While not especially built for speed, the Daughters of Mercy hospital ship was compact and sleek, and capable of a good rate of knots. Fortunately so, for no sooner had the island been sighted than trouble struck.
An insipid sun at their backs, a brace of privateers bore down on the disguised rebel craft. Shortly, a second pair arrived, the other edge of an intended pincer.
The Mercy ship put on speed. From port and starboard, further pirate galleons closed in, canvas swelling, prows carving the chill water. On board the infirmary craft the order went up to jettison all surplus cargo, and crates, chests and casks tumbled overboard. Lightened, the quarry surged.
A race ensued, the hospital ship trying to reach friendly climes before the pirates blocked its path. It was a close run. The hunted vessel beat the tightening blockade by a nose, and now it was a chase, the loner battling to outpace a small fleet even more determined to prevent it making shore.
Then a new set of ballooning sails was spotted, moving out from the island itself. A flotilla hove into view, equal in number to that which the pirates had mustered. And though ramshackle and makeshift, it put them to flight.
So it was that Dulian Karr and the dregs of the Resistance came to the Diamond Isle.
For Karr and Goyter, Quinn Disgleirio and a few hundred others, it was a time of joyous reunions.
For Tanalvah Lahn it was an experience of quite a different order.
In the shadow of their great tiered fortress, the islanders allowed themselves a brief period of rejoicing, for all that their situation looked hopeless. There were celebrations, some revelry, and cups raised to fallen comrades. But Tan was insensible to all that and had no part in it. In any event, Karr arranged for her to be taken to Kinsel without delay, while Goyter cared for an exhausted Teg and Lirrin.
Tanalvah was put into a carriage bound for the central redoubt and made as comfortable as possible, given her condition. She endured the short, bumpy journey in a mixture of anticipation, confusion and fear, and too soon found herself delivered to the island’s grim-walled fastness of last resort.
A small, wood-panelled chamber, sparsely furnished, was hastily made available. Its windows had been boarded for defence, so it was lit by candles and a lantern, despite the daylight outside. Tan was installed on the only decent chair, and her beaming well-wishers withdrew.
She was grateful for the room’s half light. Its shadows gave her haven, a veil to hide her shame. The silence was less welcome. It meant she had only her thoughts for companionship, and she was loathe to be in that company.
On the voyage over she had determined to be rid of her intolerable burden once and for all, and to confess, but only to Kinsel. There were many whose forgiveness she craved, but none as greatly as his. So, much as she longed to see him, she dreaded the prospect in equal measure.
Alone with her dark reflections, time dragged interminably. Perhaps a minute passed, perhaps an hour, before there were sounds in the passageway outside. Footfalls. A loose board creaking. The soft rattle of the door handle.
Tanalvah got up, awkwardly, meaning to move to the opening door, but she could do no more than stare at it, blood pounding in her ears.
Then he was there, outlined by the frame.
She was shocked by his appearance. He’d lost weight and looked haggard. He was hollow-eyed and his complexion was pallid. Kinsel was equally as shaken at seeing her, and by how heavy with child she was.
They stood numbly, taking in their respective states, until, as though at an unspoken command, and as one, they flowed into each other.
They hugged, caressed, sobbed. Finding their voices at last, their tearful outpourings would have seemed nonsensical to an eavesdropper. When some kind of coherence came, they mouthed endearments and devotions, and spilt their fears.
At length, eyes glistening, they drew back from each other, hands linked.
Kinsel smiled, nodding at the swell of her belly. ‘Look at you. You’re twice the woman you were.’
‘And you’ve been wasting away.’
‘Nonsense. I’m better for it.’
She gave a laugh that sashayed into a wheezing sob. ‘I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.’
‘I was afraid I’d lost you, too.’
‘And the baby. Our baby. I didn’t think-’
‘I know.’ His arms were round her again. ‘It’s all right,’ he soothed. ‘We’re back together. Tell me about Teg and Lirrin. They’re well?’
She nodded, moist eyes blinking. ‘They’re fine. Growing so fast. Missing you.’
‘I can’t wait to see them.’
He talked on, supportive and affectionate, making her feel good in a way no other man ever had, so that any thought of confession began to fade. It could wait until later. Tomorrow, perhaps. Why spoil this?
‘…and our friends from Bhealfa?’ Kinsel was asking. ‘Dulian, Quinn-’
‘They’re all right,’ she replied a little brusquely, less than pleased to be reminded of the Resistance. Then she checked herself, her mind turning to other faces. ‘What about Serrah, and Reeth and Kutch?’ she said. ‘I didn’t see any of them when we landed.’
‘Reeth finally got his way and went off in search of the Clepsydra. Serrah and the boy went with him.’
Tan was relieved that they weren’t on the island. She wasn’t proud of the feeling, but it seemed trivial in light of her greater crime.
‘You were wrong about him,’ Kinsel told her softly.
‘Who?’
He smiled. ‘Reeth. You doubted him. But he was the one who freed me.’
That was more than she could bear. Gratitude and guilt swept over her. ‘I feel ashamed,’ she said.