"Are you all right, m'lord?" Elmar asked, after he had gamely struggled into Shale's Reduner clothes. The breeches were far too small.
Shale shot a quick look at the rainlord. Elmar's words had made him realise just how weak Kaneth was.
"Nothing that a week or two's rest won't cure," the rainlord said with a wan smile and a hint of dry humour. "Moving water out of men is a bloody tiring business." He looked at Shale. "Remember, it's much easier just to disable someone by withdrawing the water from their eyes than to do it to the whole body. Takes less out of you. Now, can you try to look like a guardsman instead of a potter's boy hunched over his wheel? Shoulders back, that's it. I am going to make a scene at the gate so everyone looks at me, not you. Understand?"
"Yes, lord."
There was still no hint of Terelle's water in his consciousness. Wherever she was, it was not close by. Kaneth was right. She would have gone to Level Ten. She was safe. And then he remembered how difficult it might be for Terelle to get up to the tenth, with all the reeves and enforcers on the lookout for the waterless, and he despaired all over again.
Kaneth turned and looked once more at the briquette traders. "If you are wise, you didn't see a thing," he called out to them. He dug into his pouch, extracted a handful of tokens and launched them into the air so that they scattered over the piles of briquettes.
"That should give them something else to think about for a while," he muttered as they headed for the city's southern wall once more.
He stumbled again as they reached the gate, and this time it was one of the city guards who grabbed him by the elbow. He was berated for his trouble, as Kaneth indignantly launched into a tale of how he had been assaulted in the bazaar by a pack of waterless Gibbermen and would not have escaped with his life if not for his valiant Breccian armsmen. Glowering, he jabbed a finger into the guard's chest, demanding to know what sort of law they had in Scarcleft. How was an attack on a visiting rainlord even possible? Especially one sent by the Cloudmaster of the Quartern! It was outrageous!
Shale skulked behind Elmar's bulk, his head lowered. Every now and then, he glanced behind. There was no sign of pursuit. By the time Kaneth had finished with the Scarcleft gate guards, they were only too grateful to see the rainlord and his party pass on through.
Shale took one last despairing look over his shoulder as they left the city. I'm sorry, Terelle, he thought. I'm so, so sorry. Everything happened so fast.
He gulped, trying to hold back the horror inside him. Please let her not be dead, too. Not Terelle.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Scarpen Quarter Scarcleft City Arta Amethyst's house, Level 10 Nealrith sipped the hot tea served in a stylish glass with a silver handle. Resin plant seeds floated on top, a Gibber product much sought after in the Scarpen.
In spite of Amethyst's hospitality, he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He did not feel at ease in Scarcleft. Old fears stirred deep within; Taquar Sardonyx unsettled him. He always had. It dated back to their boyhood, to the odd times when Taquar had sought a subtle revenge of one kind or another, usually in answer to a perceived slight. He had been good at that, planning with cold vindictiveness to achieve a rival's humiliation.
In their adult years, Taquar had given him less reason to worry; he'd not even appeared to resent Nealrith's marriage to Laisa, the woman he had once courted himself. He'd given his congratulations with an amused smile, remarking that he thought them entirely well suited. But Nealrith had just walked into the city past the remains of men and women nailed-still alive-to the city gates for offences concerning water. He was glad he had four armed men wearing the Breccia Hall monogram waiting for him in the anteroom.
Nonetheless, he found it hard to believe that any rainlord, even Taquar, would hide the presence of a potential stormlord from the only man who could train him properly: his father, Granthon. He had not fully believed the message his mother had received from Amethyst. There must, he decided, be some kind of rational explanation. He and Ethelva had talked it over with Kaneth, and they had all decided not to trouble Granthon with the story until they'd had time to investigate. His father was in no condition to have his hopes raised and dashed once again.
Yes, Nealrith had believed that Taquar had been to blame-by his lack of effective leadership-for the deaths of the two young rainlords in the desert decades ago, but he had never thought him capable of murder. And yet here was Amethyst telling him a story of collusion with Reduner killers, of the destruction of a whole settle, of betrayal so great it was beyond horror.
He had always disliked Taquar, yes, but this was something else. This was treason of the highest order. Moreover, it was stupid. And Taquar was not stupid.
He took another sip of tea and asked carefully, "Do you think Taquar capable of these things?" In the distance, he heard the gate bell ring and suppressed an urge to get up and see if Kaneth was back at last.
"I do, and I know him better than most. I was his mistress for ten years."
Nealrith cleared his throat, embarrassed. "I did hear that, yes. And the boy? Is he honest?"
"I believe so. And don't think of him as a boy, Highlord. Shale is beyond childhood. Anyway, he's not all that young in years, either. Eighteen, possibly. A little socially inept-because of his history, perhaps-but surprisingly well educated, self-contained, capable of mature thought and analysis. He doesn't strike me as particularly imaginative, yet his tale would have required great imagination if it wasn't true. He described the details of rainlord training, for example, just as I have told you. Were those accurate?"
He nodded reluctantly. "And he saw the man who destroyed his settle speaking with Taquar?"
"So he says. Davim, from Dune Watergatherer." She stopped as Jomat came to the door. "Yes?"
"Madam, a visitor."
"I told you we were not to be disturbed."
"Not even by me, my dear?" Taquar stepped around Jomat's bulk and closed the door in the steward's face. "Why, I'll be waterless! Nealrith. Such an unexpected pleasure to see you here. What is it that brings you to Scarcleft? And unannounced, too. That's a breach of protocol, I believe. A highlord's visit to another city should always be preceded by a request for an invitation, is that not so?"
Nealrith curbed his anger. "I am not here in any official capacity, Taquar. I merely bring a request from my mother for Arta Amethyst to dance for her in Breccia City."
"That's carrying the job of dutiful son to extremes, is it not?"
"I was on my way to Pediment on the Cloudmaster's business, as it happens."
"I hope this was not an urgent request on the part of Lady Ethelva. Amethyst has a full schedule for the next several weeks, I believe."
The dancer had stood up as soon as Taquar had entered the room. Now, pale faced, she said woodenly, "Not to my knowledge."
Taquar raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Rebellion, my dear?" Then he looked over at Nealrith, and the smile disappeared. "Leave my city, Rith. Now. You are not welcome here."
Nealrith gritted his teeth, even more enraged. "As you wish," he said tightly and rose to his feet. He stooped to pick up his water skin. "Oh, one other thing. There's a whisper on the wind about a young water sensitive with potential right here in Scarcleft. Perhaps it would be a good idea if I took him back to Breccia City with me."
"But you just told me you are on your way to Pediment. Anyway, you should not listen to rumours. There is a half-mad boy who has been living in the tunnel and stealing our water, but he is no water sensitive. Merely sandcrazy and highly imaginative. He has been spreading an imbecilic story far and wide about how I killed his family, kidnapped him, held him prisoner, all so that I could prevent the Quartern from having another stormlord. Now does that sound likely? Watergiver only knows why that would be an aim of mine. I am not suicidal. I like to have water in my dayjar, too, and it is clear your father is unable to make that a certainty." He looked Nealrith straight in the eye. "I assure you that looking for the lad will be a waste of your time."