Osidian pursed his lips, shook his head. ‘I can do nothing.’
‘Cannot or will not?’
Osidian’s eyebrows rose together. ‘My god no longer speaks to me. I search for him in my dreams, but he is not there. He is gone so completely that I begin to doubt I ever heard his voice at all.’ His gaze sharpened. ‘Do you really believe that if I speak to Morunasa he would not see this?’ He seemed to sink away as if his flesh were draining into the earth. ‘You would be wise to keep him away from me.’ His eyes closed and he seemed not even to be breathing.
Carnelian felt fury rising in him. He wanted to shout at him that he could not simply hide from the situation, but he sensed Osidian immovable and went to cool his anger by soaking cloths in the stream and then laying them on Fern’s arm and shoulder to soothe the burns.
Old woman’s face running with blood. Voice rustling leaves. Carnelian knows she is Poppy. Iron streams in her wrinkles pour down to the sea. Ravens kiting, scribing circles in the wind. Is that a body at the focus of their funnelling? No. Fresh uncurling ferns, green foam on the waves. The tide is coming in. The tide is coming in .
Carnelian woke suddenly. Uneasy wisps of the dream unravelled, fading. He sat up and saw Fern lying near him, his burns fiercely red against the brown-green of the fronds upon which he lay. Outside their cave the sky was bright and vast and clear.
As the days passed, Carnelian grew used to the routes between the rocks, to the murmur of the stream. He spent time losing himself in the limitless sky or gazing at the white cliff of the Guarded Land, imagining a return to his father, to Ebeny, to his brothers in Osrakum. Much of every day he spent sitting on a high rock gazing east across the valleys, searching for Poppy’s return. While the sun was up, it was possible to keep fear and worry at bay. At night nightmares lay in wait for him.
As for Morunasa and the Oracles, they rarely descended from their lair among the rocks. The fear Carnelian had of them abated. They seemed to have become no more menacing than a flock of crows.
Though Carnelian had been watching them for a while, it took some time for him to be certain that the distant figures were the returning Marula warriors. They had been gone for more than four days. Straining his eyes, he could still not see Poppy or Krow among them. Neither was there any sign they had brought any Lepers with them.
He became aware of movement nearby. It was Morunasa and the Oracles descending their slab. He cursed. Morunasa called up to him and he clambered down to meet them. Together they watched the riders winding towards them through the boulder field. Carnelian knew that as soon as Morunasa and the Oracles were reunited with their people the rest of them would be once more within their power. He was relieved to discern Poppy and Krow riding at the head of the returning Marula. She waved and Carnelian waved back. As she came closer he unwound his uba so that she would be reassured by his smile. Though she returned it he could see the worry in her eyes. He stepped forward as her aquar sank to the ground and he helped her out of her saddle-chair. The Oracles clustered round them.
Carnelian saw how the returning warriors were making straight for the stream and turned enquiringly to Poppy. ‘Are you thirsty?’
She looked at him, unsure what answer he wanted.
‘There’ll be time enough to drink,’ said Morunasa. ‘Tell us everything, child.’
Uneasily she looked round the circle of the ashen faces, her gaze coming finally back to Carnelian. He gave her a nod. It seemed futile to attempt to keep anything from Morunasa.
‘For the first couple of days we saw hardly anyone. Those we did ran off and we couldn’t catch up with them. On the third day, we left the Marula in camp and Krow and I went off on our own.’
Carnelian glanced at Krow, who had come to stand protectively behind Poppy, then returned his attention to her. She looked at him intensely. ‘We found several who talked to us. We begged them for help.’ She pointed at her saddle-chair. ‘They gave us some salve that is good for wounds, but said they could do nothing more for us.’
Carnelian tried to hide his disappointment behind a smile. ‘You did well.’
Morunasa turned a jaundiced gaze on Carnelian. ‘Did she?’
Carnelian was sure he could hear an edge of menace in the man’s voice. Confrontation could no longer be avoided. ‘Shall we meet in council?’
Morunasa gave a solemn nod without taking his eyes off Carnelian. He spoke to the other Oracles in their own tongue. They too looked at Carnelian as they gave their assent. He could see they were waiting for him, but he needed time to think. ‘Let’s meet at nightfall.’
Morunasa gazed out over their encampment, now full of Marula warriors. ‘You’ll bring the Master?’
When Carnelian agreed, Morunasa began addressing the other Oracles. Carnelian slipped his arms around Poppy and Krow and led them towards their cave. Behind them the Oracles began moving off in pairs across the camp, to speak to their warriors.
Hunched together, they gazed down at Fern. Poppy knelt and pulled a jar from her bag. ‘Let’s put some of this stuff on his wounds.’
As she pulled the cloth cap back from the jar it exhaled an odour that overcame Carnelian with a memory. He asked her for it and Poppy put it in his hand. He raised the jar to his nose and inhaled. He recalled the sartlar woman applying her burning ointment to the wounds the slaver ropes had cut into his neck and ankles. It was the same smell.
Poppy looked alarmed. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘Nothing,’ he said. He returned the jar. ‘It has a very characteristic smell.’
‘And it burns in your wounds,’ Krow said. ‘But, soon after, it leaves them soothed.’
Carnelian nodded and Poppy, kneeling, began to apply it to Fern’s arm. Carnelian knelt beside her and, taking some of the salve on his finger, bent to anoint Fern’s shoulder. ‘So they refused to help us?’
Poppy looked at him. ‘They threatened us at first, but we could see they were terrified of Sthax.’
‘Sthax?’
She nodded. ‘I lied to Morunasa when I said we went alone. Sthax asked to go with us. I didn’t mention it because I didn’t want to get him in any trouble.’
‘He asked?’
‘Sort of. We made conditions.’
‘He understood you?’ he said, incredulous.
Poppy shrugged. ‘Well enough.’
Carnelian frowned. ‘You were right to lie about him.’ Poppy was gazing at him, curious about his reaction. ‘Please continue with your story.’
Poppy let it go. ‘The Lepers became friendly enough when Krow showed them his burns. It was only then they believed we’d suffered from the dragons.’
Krow nodded. ‘They said we could return with them to some cave, that they would hide us, even share their food with us.’
‘Did they?’ Carnelian sat back, thinking.
Poppy knew him well enough to be able to read something of his thoughts in his face. ‘You want to leave us here with them, don’t you?’
Carnelian grimaced. ‘There’s nowhere else.’
He looked to Krow for support. The youth put his hand on Poppy’s shoulder and began to speak, but she jerked her shoulder free. ‘What about you?’
Carnelian grew annoyed. ‘Look, didn’t you see the way Morunasa and the others behaved with me? We’re in their power. Even if we manage to survive, I intend to leave with the Master.’
‘Leave?’ asked Krow, frowning.
Poppy half turned to him. ‘Back to the Mountain with Hookfork.’
‘Hookfork?’ exclaimed Krow.
Poppy ignored him. ‘And what about us?’
Carnelian shook his head. ‘You two could still slip away, and take Fern with you.’ He watched as their gaze shifted to their injured hearthmate. ‘Please try to understand. You must know that the last thing I want is to leave you behind, but it’s simply madness to imagine I could get you safely to the Mountain. Hookfork’s a monster. He already hates me and would gladly use you against me. Eventually, he would make sure you both died, horribly.’