20: THEY HUNT IN PACKS
“The vané “Gatestone system is just so much cooler than ours,” Kihrin grumbled.
Thurvishar sighed. “You’re not wrong.”
(Kihrin’s story)
Teraeth and I examined the cliff face surrounding us. The tunnel jutted out several feet, which made swinging back to the rocks challenging. Vines and plant life clung to the cliff itself, which looked sturdy enough to support a climber’s weight. But appearances can be deceiving. The waterfall itself seemed safe enough; I doubted its wake was strong enough to pull anyone under.
Teraeth looked over at me. “What do you think?”
“For you and me? Easy. For these two?” I gestured toward Janel and Thurvishar. “I don’t think so.”
“I can climb.” Janel crossed her arms over her chest.
“I’m sure you can,” I said, “but this is a little more specialized than what you’re used to doing.”
“I’ll just open a gate,” Thurvishar said. “We’re not in the Blight anymore.”
“Oh! Right. Sure, go for it.” I stepped back to give the man room.
Thurvishar concentrated as he cast the spell.
Nothing happened.
“This isn’t funny anymore.” Thurvishar looked utterly offended. “I’m actually good at this, you realize.”1
We all waited, but no chaos storm presented itself.
Teraeth made a face. “I’d bet metal we’re inside the barrier roses again.”
We all groaned. The whole reason the Eight Immortals had to open the gate themselves to the vané capital city was because a vané magical network—the barrier roses—stopped gates and teleportation. Which, while pretty fantastic from a defensive standpoint—the whole reason, in fact, Emperor Kandor had been forced to invade the Manol the old-fashioned way—was proving inconvenient on a personal level.
“Wait.” I turned to the others. “How long were we unconscious? I mean, transporting us to the Blight must have taken weeks…”
“We’ll know once we’re back,” Teraeth said, shrugging.
I returned my focus to our present dilemma and pointed down to the lake. “Anyway, I’ll climb down and see if the water in the lake is deep enough for jumping.”
“I’ll go.” Teraeth gave Janel a quick glance.
I frowned. “Hey, who was the professional burglar?”
“I’m the better swimmer.” Before I could make any further protest, Teraeth swung out, leaping over to the vine-covered cliff face.
Janel sighed.
I tried to keep Teraeth in sight, but the angle of the tunnel walls made it difficult. Teraeth climbed down until he’d almost reached the lake and then simply dropped. I waited for Teraeth to surface.
He didn’t.
We waited. The lake’s surface didn’t still—not with the waterfall and steady lake outflow—but the water took on a quiet air.
“Teraeth?” Janel shouted down. “Teraeth!”
“Shit.” I took several steps back.
Thurvishar must have sensed my intentions. “You don’t know if it’s safe. What if the same thing—”
I was already jumping.
I hit the water feetfirst, the roar of falling and landing cutting off abruptly as water rose over my head. All sound muffled, the light turned green and glassy. Searching for Teraeth proved impossible through the muddy churn. As I surfaced, a hand grabbed my wrist and pulled me up.
I gasped for air. Teraeth surfaced with me.
“You actually jumped?” Teraeth said. “Why would you do that? You had no idea why I hadn’t come up for air!”
I flushed. “I was worried about you. You’re such an asshole!” I shoved water in Teraeth’s direction in pure frustration; I didn’t have the leverage to punch him.
“Guilty as charged,” Teraeth said mildly. “I mean, I’m flattered, but don’t do that again. I can return from the Afterlife a lot easier than you can.”
“Fuck you.” As I treaded water, I shouted up, “False alarm. He’s fine!”
“Yeah, we see that!” Janel shouted back. “So how do we climb down again?”
“You won’t have to. We’ll leave the water so we’re not in your way!” I shouted.
“It’s easy,” Teraeth said. “Plenty deep. Just jump feetfirst.”
“No!” I corrected. “Feetfirst, keep your arms out when you jump, and bring them down to your sides as you hit the water. Try to keep your body straight.”
“I’m suddenly not feeling so confident,” Janel admitted.
“You’ll be fine,” Teraeth said.
“Janel?” I called up. “Don’t use your full strength when you jump. You don’t want to land too far out, understand?”
“Uh, Kihrin?” Janel’s voice wavered.
“Yeah?” I shared a look with Teraeth. I had a sinking feeling I knew her next words. Don’t say you can’t swim. Do not say you can’t swim.
“I can’t swim,” Janel called down.
“Seriously?” I shouted. “Wasn’t your family castle right next to a river in Jorat?”
“Yes, but I never swam in it! I didn’t even know how to swim in my past life. Elana grew up in a desert!”
Teraeth sighed. “Honestly no excuse.”
“Fine,” I called to her. “It’s fine. Not a problem. We’ll swim off to the side. Thurvishar, you go next. You can swim, right?”
“Yes, I know the basics!” Thurvishar shouted.
“Great!” I decided against clarifying if he meant in theory.2
Teraeth and I swam to the side. I hadn’t seen any predators—one factor in our favor. I’d learned to swim in the Senlay River next to the Capital City, but the trick to doing so had always been making sure the crocodiles were someplace else.
“You’re going to do great, Thurvishar. Take a running leap. Keep your arms out to start.”
I thought Thurvishar might be having an attack of nerves. Then he vanished from the tunnel, and a second later, a dark flailing shape jumped into the air and plummeted down to the lake.
Thurvishar didn’t bring his arms down in time, but he also didn’t scream, which had to count for something. Teraeth helped him make his way to the shallow end of the lake, which Thurvishar managed without any incidents.
So that left Janel.
“Okay, so you saw what Thurvishar did, right? It’s that easy!” I shouted. “We’re here to pull you from the water, so there’s no reason to be afraid.”
“I’m not afraid!” Janel yelled down.
I took a deep breath. “Of course you’re not.”
Teraeth cupped his hands over his mouth and made chicken clucking sounds.
I turned and looked at him in disbelief.
Janel jumped.
She hit the water like a spearpoint, went under, and came back up immediately, flailing in pure panic. She choked and breathed in at least some water.3
I pulled her from the lake. As soon as Janel reached land she spent several minutes on her hands and knees coughing, before giving Teraeth a murderous glare while he continued to tread water.
“No, we can’t kill him,” I told her. “Teraeth’s the only one who knows the way back to the Mother of Trees.”
She laughed as she settled down on her side. “At least I’m cleaner now.”
I decided this would be a poor time to point out her silk clothing had turned transparent. I certainly didn’t mind. Besides, given Joratese nudity taboos, or lack thereof, Janel probably wouldn’t care.
And that issue with the clothing proved true for all of us.
Teraeth waved from the water. “Hey, want to help me with this?”
“Help you with what?” I asked.
“The crocodile I killed earlier and lodged under this rock!” Teraeth shouted. “I figured we’d cook it for dinner.”
I looked at Janel. “The crocodile he killed earlier. Of course.”
Thurvishar sighed and scrubbed his face with his hands.
That evening went a lot better than previous ones.
True, our clothing was tattered, our footwear condition laughable, and we had no weapons worth the name. We possessed only a theoretical knowledge of our location in the Manol, Thurvishar couldn’t open a gate, and we were too close to the Blight to expect the Eight to answer our prayers.
Don’t think we didn’t try. Even with the warnings the Eight had given us that they’d be too busy to respond, we still tried. I prayed to Taja, Janel prayed to both Tya and her patron god, Khored. The closest we came to an answer was Teraeth, who blinked as if slapped and announced Thaena had been too busy to talk—she’d been in the midst of battle.4
But even if we didn’t have a way to contact the Eight Immortals, we had food and fresh water, and most importantly, magic worked.
So accommodations were made. I pulled water from green wood we gathered until it turned dry enough to burn. Janel had a fire going in no time. Thurvishar knapped a razor-sharp knife from local stone, and Teraeth used it to skin and dress the crocodile. Thurvishar even repaired our shoes (that crocodile was proving handy).
Teraeth cooked again, mostly because he was the only one any good at it. Under his care, the crocodile meat tasted so fantastic, I almost forgot where we were.
By the time we finished eating, it was dark. The jungle sounds echoed around us with intimidating cacophony. I struggled not to flinch at every noise.
Teraeth rescued a wooden stick from the fire and drew a map on the ground with its burned end. “So this is where we are,” he said, pointing to a long river running just underneath the Korthaen Blight. “And we need to be here.” He draw an X to the southwest. “That’s the capital, the Mother of Trees, and King Kelanis’s palace.”
“I’m no expert on such things, but I think that’s going to take a while,” I said.
Teraeth gave me a look. “No kidding. But I’m more concerned about traveling all the way down there and finding ourselves in the same situation.”
Janel grimaced. “There’s no guarantee whoever kidnapped us the first time can’t do the same thing twice.”
“Exactly,” Teraeth said. “How do we strong-arm our way past the bureaucratic maze that trapped us before?”
Thurvishar studied the map. “Do you have a suggestion?”
“Yes, I do.” Teraeth circled another location, southeast of our current position. “This is Saraval. There’s a Brotherhood chapter house there—”
“Out in the open? Do they have a sign on the front door? Is it black?” I couldn’t help myself.
Teraeth rolled his eyes. “No. The Black Brotherhood is illegal in the Manol.”
I tilted my head. “I’m sorry. What was that? I could’ve sworn you just said the Black Brotherhood isn’t legal among the vané.”
Teraeth rubbed his jaw. “It’s considered a cult. Most vané don’t worship gods, so to the eyes of most vané, we’re just a band of uh … fanatics.”
“Huh. Imagine that,” I said.
“Anyway,” Teraeth continued, “more important than the chapter house, there’s also a gate there to the Well of Spirals.” He gave that last pronouncement significance, then sighed when we all stared blankly. “It’s a holy place.”
“You just said the vané don’t worship gods,” I pointed out.
“Fine,” Teraeth said. “It’s sacred.”
Janel paused from chewing a piece of crocodile meat. “That means the same thing.”
“Revered, then. My point is the caretakers there have the authority to contact King Kelanis directly. We can cut right through all the bureaucracy and go straight to the top.”
“Great,” I said. “That’s starting to sound like an actual plan.”
“Anything else we should know?” Thurvishar asked. He’d been letting us talk, saying nothing, but watching us with studied care. He looked like a man who already knew the answer to the question he was asking.5
“Yes,” Teraeth said. “Only the vané are allowed to step a single foot near the Well of Spirals,” he explained. “Janel and Thurvishar would be arrested. Or killed. Probably the latter.”
“What about Kihrin?” Janel pointed to me.
“Kihrin is more vané than human,” Teraeth said. “He can pass.”
“Janel and I don’t need to go,” Thurvishar said, “as long as Kelanis receives our message.”
“What is the Well of Spirals?” Janel asked.
Teraeth made a face. “It’s complicated. Without it, the vané wouldn’t be vané. Babies are sent there to learn their first spells—”
“Babies?” Thurvishar all but sputtered.
“They’re imprinting them,” Janel murmured. “They must be.”
We stopped and looked at her.
“What was that?” I asked her.
Janel started poking the fire with a stick of her own. “If you’re good at body magics—the way any god-king would be—you can modify a child’s development to ensure they’ll be able to use magic. You can even give them a sympathy toward specific spells guaranteeing they’ll develop them as ‘witch gifts.’” She casually added, “Pretty sure either Tya or Xaltorath did that to me.”6
Teraeth’s expression fought between pride and annoyance. “I … am not going to confirm what might easily be considered a state secret. The vané have dedicated our existence to biological magical study. We literally created our own race; the Well of Spirals is the tool we used.”
“Created your own race?” I blinked at him. “Explain, please.”
“You know how god-kings have been responsible for creating races? The thriss, firebloods, centaurs, and so on? Well, that. Except it was a group of voras sorcerers, not a god-king, and they did it to themselves. The vané created the vané.” Teraeth shrugged. “That’s how they escaped becoming mortal when the voras did.”
“And we’re asking them to give that up,” Thurvishar mused.
“It’s that or we all die,” I protested. “Vol Karoth’s not going to spare them just because they’ve been around for a long time.”
Teraeth held out his hands. “We’re not the ones who need convincing. But if you were unclear why a faction inside the court might not like us? Now you know.”
I leaned back against a log. “Right. Well, one disaster at a time, I suppose. Let’s figure out how to reach Saraval first. We’ll just have to—” I paused as a clicking noise emanated from the jungle.
Several clicking noises. Surrounding us.
Why did that noise seem familiar? Then it came to me, in a rush of dread. “Wait. I know that sound…”
Teraeth sat still. “This is important: no one move.”
To Janel’s and Thurvishar’s credit, they followed orders. And I didn’t need to be told.
“What is that?” Janel asked.
She must have seen the first of the reptiles—about the size of a hunting dog, with a mouthful of teeth and wickedly sharp claws on its hind legs. The creature ran on those back legs, and it moved fast. The drake stared at Janel with keen, intelligent eyes, tilted its head, and trilled.
“That’s a drake,” I answered. “Problem is—”
A dozen creatures ran into the clearing.
“—they hunt in packs,” I finished.