"Come," Kaneth was saying in his ear, "let's get out of this crush." He took Jasper by the elbow and shepherded him back in the direction of the palace, signalling for the guards to close in around them. "What did you think of your first Temple Gratitudes?"
Jasper gave a snort. "We wouldn't waste water like that in Wash Drybone. Just pouring it into the ground as a sacrifice to the Sunlord?" He shook his head. "I don't think the priests have any idea of what it's like to go thirsty."
"Probably not, at least not on this level. Some priests on lower levels often share their water, or so I'm told."
"When did you get back?" Jasper asked. Kaneth had been away, riding the Sweepings with his men, searching for any evidence of further infiltration of the Scarpen by Reduners.
"Last night. A tame spying trip, not as exciting as chasing marauders off the White and Gibber Quarters."
They caught up with Nealrith and Ryka. Ahead of them, Ethelva, Laisa and Senya accompanied Granthon's litter. "What's the news from Qanatend?" Kaneth asked, laying a hand on the highlord's shoulder as they all walked up the stepped street towards the closest entry to the hall. "I heard there were messengers in this morning."
Nealrith nodded unhappily. "No news. The spies couldn't get through. The Reduners continue to hold the northern side of Pebblebag Pass through the Warthago Range. All we know for certain is that the city fell about ten days after the siege started. We guess it is still occupied and the Reduners are still helping themselves to the water."
"Any word of Moiqa and Iani and the other rainlords?"
"Nothing. I've no way of knowing whether Iani even made it as far as Qanatend."
Kaneth's lips tightened. "We can ill afford to lose another rainlord. He should never have gone back."
"And just how could we stop him from going to the rescue of his wife and her city?" Ryka snapped. "Bad enough that we did nothing to help them."
Jasper did not want to hear any more. To him, it was unconscionable that Qanatend had received no aid, and the thought of a city fighting Davim while others watched and waited was acid in his gut. "What happens now?" he asked. They had reached the main gate of Breccia Hall, and the guards snapped to attention, disconcerting him. It felt strange to be the object of such formal respect. "How long will they stay in Qanatend?"
"The Reduners have a distaste for roofs over their heads," Nealrith replied, nodding an acknowledgement to the guards, "so I doubt it will be permanent. More likely their intention is to stay awhile, rest their mounts, replenish their supplies, eat well, drink well, sleep with new women and then return to the Red Quarter."
Kaneth snorted, disbelieving. "Slim chance. More likely they'll move on to the next city. If they are generous, they will just kill the guards and the water sensitives and leave each city intact. If they aren't so generous, then they will destroy the groves and the cisterns as well."
"Without groves and cisterns, everyone would die," Ryka said in protest.
"You have met Davim, Jasper. Do you think that would bother him?" Kaneth asked.
Jasper shook his head.
"He knows we have Shale now," Nealrith said. "He knows Jasper is Shale, because we've told him. There's no point in him trying to threaten Taq-"
"He refused to negotiate with the mediators you sent," Kaneth pointed out. "Face it, Nealrith. He wants his Time of Random Rain."
"What can we do other than train more guards, as we are doing?" Nealrith asked. "If only we had more stormlords, we could still salvage the situation…" The words trailed away, as futile as the desire to have them come true.
Jasper's insides lurched. Always, always, it came down to a stormlord's power. The power that he had to have, and have soon. Everything depended on him. Everything.
Ryka said softly, "Iani will never forgive us for not going to Qanatend. He loved that city."
"Iani is doubtless dead," Kaneth said. "Moiqa, too."
"There has been yet another deputation of Alabasters bringing more news of what has been happening in the White Quarter," Nealrith said. "More requests for help against Reduner raids." He looked away, and there was real pain in the words that followed. "We can't even help ourselves, and they want aid from us!"
"Davim must be stretching his resources," Kaneth remarked. "Which seems foolish."
Jasper thought about that, remembering the red man, remembering the heat of his gaze. Impatient to the point of recklessness sometimes, perhaps-but a fool? They might not comprehend his ambition for a Time of Random Rain; his desire for a different future might be ridiculous in their eyes-but that did not mean he was stupid.
"Are we going to do nothing except guard our side of the Pebblebag Pass?" Kaneth asked. "What if they find a way to bypass our guards? Or launch a full-scale attack with ziggers? We have only a handful of rainlords up there. And there must be other ways through." He looked at Jasper. "Tell me, by any chance, could you sense the water of an army on pedes descending on us?"
He hesitated. "If I was looking for it, yes. Most of the time, though, I close down my senses, otherwise I get overwhelmed by all the water in the city-people, tunnels, cisterns, plants, dayjars, the groves…"
Nealrith nodded glumly. "I do the same thing."
"If they scatter their forces rather than bunch together," Jasper added, "that would make it difficult to sense them. Do they know enough about rainlord or stormlord powers to know that?"
"Probably," Nealrith said.
"So," Kaneth drawled, "the question remains: is Davim going to try to seize both Breccia City and Jasper-and if he tries, how do we stop him?"
Nealrith returned the salute of more guards as they passed into the forecourt of the Hall. "I don't know how to fight such idiocy. We may all perish in such a conflict. If they destroy the tunnels and cisterns and slots, they could bring down our whole civilisation! The Reduners would be the only ones to survive. Damn Taquar to a waterless death for ever starting this."
Jasper shivered.
"Do you think Taquar truly did kill the talented among us, Nealrith, as Jasper believes?" Ryka asked. "Eliminating the competition?"
"Oh, he did it all right," Nealrith said. "All the really talented ones. Kaneth and me, he didn't bother about."
"Me, neither," added Ryka with a hollow laugh.
Kaneth nodded. "At that time, he thought he would be a stormlord, and he wanted to make sure he was the only one. He destroyed our future by murder."
Ryka shook her head, not in negation but in grief. "And later, when he realised he didn't have the skills of a stormlord but Lyneth probably would… That poor little girl."
Kaneth glanced at Jasper. "Rith, the sooner you marry this youth off to your Senya, the better. They have to produce children of talent, and quickly. We need more stormlords, and they are our best chance."
Marry Senya? Jasper's jaw dropped. His stomach twisted and knotted; his heart pounded at his throat. Marry Senya? That spoiled, manipulative bitch? Every time he met her, he was exposed to her contempt, her childish sulks and her brainless remarks. He gaped at them, speechless.
"That reminds me, Jasper," Kaneth added, not noticing his consternation, "someone gave you something down in front of the temple. What was it?" Jasper put his hand into his robe and pulled out the parchment. He turned it over to see the inscription on the outside fold. "It's a letter."
"Who gave it to you?" Nealrith asked sharply.
"I don't know. I didn't see." He broke the seal and unfolded the sheet. Slowly he read the words written there-and felt the blood drain from his face, leaving him light-headed. "It's from Terelle. Taquar has her. He says I've got to get back to him, otherwise-otherwise-"