Her eyebrows rose. “There is a price for visiting you, now?”
“Maybe. I just want a little advice.”
“Oh? What advice?”
“How can ordinary people kill magicians?”
She gave a short laugh. “They can’t. At least, not if a magician is competent and vigilant.”
“How can we tell if he isn’t?”
Her eyebrows rose. “You are not joking—but of course you are not.”
He shook his head.
She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “So long as I don’t reveal my people’s hand in this, I see no reason why I shouldn’t help you.” She smiled crookedly. “And I am sure you will find a way, even if I don’t. You might get killed trying, though.”
“I’d rather avoid that,” Cery told her.
She grinned. “I’d rather you did, too. Well, then, if you keep me informed of what’s going on in the city, I’ll give you advice on killing magicians. Does that sound reasonable?”
“It does.”
She crossed her arms and looked thoughtful. “I cannot tell you a sure way to kill an Ichani, however. Only that they are no different from ordinary people in that they make mistakes. You can trick them, if you know how. All it takes is courage, bluff, and some considerable risks.”
Cery smiled. “Sounds like the sort of work I’m used to.”
“I hear water.”
Akkarin turned to regard Sonea, but his face was in shadow and she couldn’t see his expression.
“Go on, then,” he replied.
She listened carefully, then moved toward the sound. After so many days in the mountains, she could now recognize the faintest noise of water trickling over rock. Drawn to the shadows of a recess in the rock wall they had been following, she stared intently into the darkness and felt her way forward.
She saw the tiny stream of water at the same time as she saw the break in the wall. A narrow gap led to an open space. Rock scraped across her back as she squeezed through. When she’d made her way out to the other side of the gap, she gave a low exclamation of surprise.
“Akkarin,” she called.
She stood at the edge of a tiny valley. The sides sloped gently up to steeper rocky walls. Stunted trees, bushes and grass grew along a narrow stream that gurgled cheerfully down to disappear into a crack several strides away.
Hearing a grunt, she turned to see that Akkarin was having some difficulty forcing himself through the gap in the rock wall. He freed himself, then straightened and gazed at the valley appreciatively.
“Looks like a good place to spend the night—or the day,” she said.
Akkarin frowned. They had continued walking toward the South Pass long into the morning for the last three days, conscious of the Ichani travelling behind them. Sonea worried constantly that Parika would catch up, but she doubted that he would travel at such a punishing pace unless he had good reason to.
“It may be a dead end,” Akkarin observed. He did not move back to the gap, however. Instead he started toward the trees.
A loud squawk rang out, echoing in the valley. Sonea jumped as a large white bird arced out of a nearby tree. The bird suddenly twisted in the air. Sonea heard a faint snap, then watched it plummet to the ground.
Akkarin chuckled. “I guess we will be staying.”
He strode forward and picked up the creature. As Sonea saw the huge eyes of the bird, she gasped in surprise.
“A mullook!”
“Yes.” Akkarin smiled crookedly. “Ironic. What would the King say if he knew we were eating his House incal?”
He continued up the stream. After several hundred paces, they reached the end of the valley. Water trickled over a looming cliff overhang to form the stream.
“We’ll sleep under that,” Akkarin said, pointing to the overhang. He sat down by the stream and began pulling the feathers from the bird.
Sonea looked down at the springy grass under her feet, then up at the hard stone under the overhang. Dropping into a crouch, she began tearing up handfuls of grass. As she carried armloads to their sleeping place, the smell of roasting meat drifted to her nose and set her stomach rumbling.
Leaving the mullook cooking in a floating globe of heat, Akkarin moved to one of the trees. He stared up at the branches, and they began to shake. Sonea heard a dull patter, then saw Akkarin crouch and examine the ground. She moved to his side.
“These nuts are hard to open, but quite tasty,” he told her, holding one out. “Keep gathering them. I think I saw some stingberries farther down.”
The moon hung low in the sky. In the growing darkness, it was hard to find the nuts. She resorted to groping around until she felt their smooth roundness under her fingers. Gathering them in the front of her shirt, she carried them to the cooking mullook, and soon worked out how to crack the shells without crushing the soft nuts inside.
Akkarin returned soon after, carrying a rough stone bowl filled with berries and a few stalks. The berries were covered in nasty looking spines.
Between shelling nuts, Sonea watched as Akkarin lifted the berries with magic and carefully peeled off the skin and spines. Soon the bowl was half filled with the dark flesh of the fruit. Next he set to work on the stalks, peeling away the fibrous outer layer.
“I think we’re ready for our feast,” he said. He handed her two of the stalks. “This is shem—Not particularly tasty, but edible. It’s not good to live on just meat.”
Sonea found the inside of the stalks pleasantly juicy, if not flavorsome. Akkarin divided up the mullook, which contained more meat than any of the other birds they had eaten. The nuts proved to be as delicious as he had promised. Akkarin crushed the berries, then added water to the pulp to make a tart drink. When they had finished, Sonea felt full for the first time since they had entered Sachaka.
“It’s amazing how something as simple as a meal can be so good.” She sighed contentedly. The valley was almost completely hidden in darkness now. “I wonder what this place looks like in the daylight.”
“You’ll find out in an hour or so,” Akkarin replied.
He sounded tired. She looked at him, but his face was in shadow.
“Time to sleep, then,” she said. She drew on enough Healing power to chase away her own weariness, then held out her hands. He didn’t take them at first, and she wondered if he could see her in the darkness. Then she felt his warm fingers wrap around hers.
She drew in a deep breath, then sent power to him, taking care not to exhaust herself. Not for the first time, she wondered if he had accepted her decision to take the first watch to ensure she didn’t give him too much power. If she exhausted herself, she wouldn’t be able to stay awake.
As she felt her power ebb, she stopped and pulled her hands away. Akkarin remained still and silent, making no move toward the grass bed she had prepared.
“Sonea,” he said suddenly.
“Yes?”
“Thank you for coming with me.”
She caught her breath, then felt her heart swell with pleasure. He remained silent for several minutes, then drew in a short breath.
“I regret separating you from Rothen. I know he was more like a father than a teacher.”
Sonea stared at his shadowed face, searching for his eyes.
“It was necessary,” he added softly.
“I know,” she whispered. “I understand.”
“But you didn’t understand then,” he said wryly. “You hated me.”
She chuckled. “That’s true. I don’t any more.”
He said no more, but after a short pause he rose and moved to the overhang and lay down on the grass bed. For a long time she sat in darkness. Eventually the sky began to lighten and the stars fade and disappear. She wasn’t bothered by sleepiness, and she knew her Healing power wasn’t solely responsible for that. Akkarin’s sudden thanks and apology had stirred up the hopes and wishes she had been trying to smother for days.
Little fool, she scolded herself. He’s just being kind. Just because he has finally acknowledged your help, and regrets what he did to you, doesn’t mean he considers you as anything more than a useful but unwanted companion. He’s not interested in you otherwise, so stop torturing yourself.