| |
“HUSH, VEN,” ALEIA MURMURED. Mannon just chuckled.
“They never told you?” he asked. He waved toward a pair of chairs. “Sit. Both of you. We can talk like adults.” He reached for a bottle on the table, poured two glasses full, then studied Aven for a moment before pouring a third. “Sit, Aleia!”
Aleia angled her head to the side and studied Mannon with a calm, cool gaze. Then she nodded and went to one of the chairs. Lacking anything else he could do, Aven followed her, and sat by her side. Mannon came over with two of the glasses, passing one to each of them.
“Fireberry mead,” he said. “I seem to recall you liked it once, Aleia.” Mannon returned to the table, leaned back against it, and picked up the third glass. He sipped from his, then nodded. “A fine-looking boy, Aleia.”
“I think so,” Aleia agreed with a small, chilly smile.
“His name isn’t Othi, though.” It wasn’t a question.
“No, it’s Aven,” Aven answered.
Mannon nodded slowly. “That’s better. Aven suits you better. Now, since your parents haven’t bothered to give you your complete bloodline, let me fill in the gaps. Your mother, I presume, has given you the entire lineage on the Water side of your blood?” Aven nodded, and Mannon smiled. “I thought as much. On your father’s side, though. That’s probably a mystery to you. Did you know you were the great grandson of the Firstborn? Firstborn Riga. His son was Elcam. Elcam sired two sons, a good many years apart. By Airborn Falla, he sired... well, me. And by the Earthborn healer Pirit, he sired a rather scruffy little healer named Jhansri. Who never liked his full name, so he went by Jehan.” He sipped his mead. “Fireborn are very good at keeping track of bloodlines. That’s the bloodline inscribed in the Book of Silver. Jehan was claimed as the son of Elcam—”
“But Healer Pirit swore under oath to Firstborn Tirine that she couldn’t be sure of that. She swore that she was never certain of the parentage of any of her children, and among the Earth tribe, bloodlines are counted through the mother line, not the father.” Aleia smiled up at Mannon.
“Even the Firstborn yields to the writings of the Book of Silver,” Mannon countered. “So that’s what counts.” He looked at their cups. “You’ve neither of you drunk anything.”
Almost automatically, Aven put the cup to his lips and sipped. The liquid was sweet, and burned in his throat and chest. He blinked and looked down at it. “I don’t think I like it,” he said softly, then looked up at Mannon. “No discourtesy meant, but it’s...”
“Nothing you’ve had before,” Mannon finished. “I understand. Set it down, lad.” He put his own glass down, folded his arms over his chest, and gave Aven a frank look. “I’ve heard impressive things about you, Aven.”
“Mannon—”
Mannon continued as if Aleia hadn’t spoken. “Polite to a fault, even when asked some very impertinent questions. An excellent hunter. No navigator tattoos, though. Is that lack of skill, or some other reason?”
“He’s not part of this, Mannon,” Aleia snapped. Mannon grinned.
“There’s the temper!” he laughed. “I’d wondered. He is part of this, Aleia. Whether you like it or no.” He glanced at Aven again, then back at Aleia. “Give him to me.”
“What?”
Aleia’s shocked voice echoed in the cabin, and Aven heard something moving in the darkness. He tried to see what it might be, but couldn’t make out what was beyond the circle of light cast by the lamp. It was important, whatever it was. He could feel it. But he couldn’t go looking for it. Not now, not as Mannon raised his hand in a gesture that was meant to be pacifying.
“Not in any sordid way, Aleia. I have everything that I could possibly desire, save one thing.” He looked at Aven again. “A proper heir. Think on it. He could follow me to the throne–”
“A throne that was never yours,” Aleia interrupted.
“I hold it now. That makes it mine,” Mannon said with a shrug. “I continue to hold it. That makes it mine. I intend to continue to hold it. And I’m offering to make your son my heir, so that it can be his when I finally die. Is that so outrageous a request?”
“It’s not yours,” Aven said, hearing the shiver in his voice. “It was never yours. You can’t give something that isn’t yours.”
“Didn’t you hear me, Aven?” Mannon asked. “I hold it. That makes it mine.”
“Where’s Axia’s Crown, then?” Aven asked. Mannon’s eyes widened.
“You’ve taught him well,” he said slowly. He looked up at the sounds of a commotion outside the room. “I may not have the crown, but I will shortly have the Diadem.” He turned toward the door as it swung open, and armed men escorted Jehan and Aria into the room. Mannon looked at them both, then sniffed. “Where were they?”
“In the storage nets under the canoe,” Boni answered. “Took me a bit to figure it out. And there’s no signs of any gems other than the one that he’s wearing and this one.” He held up Aleia’s water gem. “No Diadem.”
Mannon frowned. “No...” his voice trailed off, and he turned and looked at Aria. “Well, then. Aria, Milon’s daughter. Where is it?”
Aria shook her head slowly. “I do not know. They were taken from me when I was caught. They were locked in a box, as I was. What happened to the box, I do not know. Perhaps it was burned?”
“That would be unfortunate,” Mannon murmured. “But not impossible to deal with.” He looked at Jehan and smiled. “Brother. No kind words for me, Jhansri? It’s been a long time.”
Aven watched as the color drained from Aria’s face, and an angry flush rose in his father’s. “You are nothing to me,” Jehan growled. “You murdered Milon.”
Mannon blinked. He raised his right hand. “I swear, I never did. I did not murder Milon.”
“Semantics,” Jehan snapped. “You ordered him killed. It’s the same thing. Do not call me brother. I’ll have none of you.”
Mannon just laughed. “The Book of Silver says otherwise. Now, Jehan, be reasonable. I know you can be. I had intended to make your son my heir—”
“I refuse,” Aven interrupted. He rose and went to Aria’s side, took her cold hand in his. “I will not be yours. I’m spoken for.”
Mannon’s eyes widened, and he nodded. “I see,” he said. “Well, it doesn’t have to change, you know. You could still have her, if you take your place as my heir.” His face went slack, his voice flat as he continued, “Or you and your parents could vanish, and I’ll have her make me a new heir.”
Aven went cold. He glanced at Aria, who looked terrified. He saw her mouth move, but no sound came out.
“Mannon, it doesn’t have to be like this,” Aleia said quickly, stepping forward. “You searched the canoe. You saw we don’t have the Diadem or the gems. We have no way of proving that Aria went to the Temple. Give us our canoe back, and we’ll go out to the deep waters. You’ll never see us again.” She smiled slightly. “We’re not a threat to you. How could we be?”
Mannon shook his head. “You, my dear Aleia, were always a threat to me.”
“All we ever wanted was to live our lives, Mannon,” Jehan said. He stepped forward. “And that’s all we want now. Listen to Aleia. You know she’s right. We’ll take Aria back out onto the deep waters, and you’ll never see us again.” He held his hand out. “I give you my word.”
Mannon arched a brow. “You expect me to believe that?”
“You haven’t heard from us for twenty-five years,” Jehan pointed out. “We really were coming south to get metal tools and cookware for wedding gifts. There’s a small fortune in pearls on that canoe.” He grinned and nodded toward Aven and Aria. He offered his hand again. “You take half the pearls, resupply us for the sail home, and we’ll leave. You’ll never hear from us again.”
Mannon looked skeptical. He studied Jehan for a moment, then Aria and Aven. He sniffed. “So, Aven? Is this true?”
“Ama says it’s time I was married,” Aven answered. It was true, after all. She’d said it to every sailor they’d met on the trip south. He smiled down at Aria. “We haven’t built a canoe yet, but we survived teaching her to swim. I think we’ll be all right.”
Mannon barked out a laugh. “Teaching her to swim? That’s your idea of courtship?”
“It worked,” Aria said. She leaned into Aven’s side, and he could feel her trembling. “Can we go? I don’t have what you want. I just want to go home now.”
Mannon looked back at Jehan, who still had his hand out. “You leave. And I never see you again. That’s the deal?”
“And a half fortune of pearls,” Jehan added.
Mannon frowned. Then he nodded and took Jehan’s hand. His eyes widened, and he gasped. His knees buckled; Jehan moved like lightning, catching Mannon before he hit the ground, wrenching his arm up and behind him, and catching the back of his neck in his other hand. Mannon howled in pain.
“Now, brother,” Jehan growled. “You’re going to do exactly what I say—”
“Jehan!” Aleia gasped, getting to her feet. Aven went cold. He knew what was happening. What his father was doing. He was using his power to cause pain — a complete desecration of the healing arts, but one that might save all their lives.
“Leave it, Guppy!” Jehan snapped. “We’re walking out of here, Mannon. You’re going to order your men to let us pass. We’re all going to go down in that little boat, and you’re coming with us on the canoe. Once we’re clear of any ranged weapons you might have on this thing, you’ll be getting back in your boat. Understand?”
“Yes,” Mannon hissed through gritted teeth. Then, he gasped again.
“Incentive,” Jehan said. “I can keep you dancing on the edge of agony. Now walk.” He pushed Mannon forward, past Aria and Aven. Aven went to follow his father, only to stop with his mother’s hand on his arm.
“Once we’re out in the air,” she said, her voice quiet. “Get off this ship. The both of you. Get to Forge. We’ll meet you there.”
“Ama!” Aven whispered.
“Do as I say,” Aleia said, her voice firm. “Aria, take to the skies. It’s dark enough still that they won’t be able to see you to shoot. Aven, swim deep and stay there. Do not surface. Do you understand me?”
Aven met her eyes. He nodded, feeling cold and sick all at once. “Yes, Ama,” he said, and heard Aria echo his words.
Aleia smiled. She tugged Aven down to kiss his cheek, then kissed Aria. “Now do as I said. As soon as we’re clear.” She met Aven’s eyes. “Don’t forget your bag.”
Aven nodded, running his hand over the strap that crossed his chest. “Be careful, Ama.”
“As we can be,” she said. “Now go.” She turned and followed Jehan and Mannon to the door, leaving Aven and Aria to follow. Aria clung to Aven’s hand, and he looked at her and tried to smile. It didn’t work.
“I’ll see you at Forge,” she whispered.
“Where you fly, I’ll follow,” he whispered back. She squeezed his hand. Then they were outside, and she let him go. She ran two steps, spread her wings, and launched. Aven ran after her, vaulting over the ship railing and diving deep.
He hit the water hard, feeling his chest ache as the change began. He used his arms to pull himself farther down in the dark water, trying to put some distance and depth between him and the ship. By the time his fins had unfurled, he was far below where a spear or harpoon could reach him, and out of range of arrows. He hoped. He twisted, looking upwards. There were lights playing over the surface of the water above him. Lights that shouldn’t have been there. He stared for a moment, then decided that he needed to defy his mother — he had to surface. He had to see. He kicked, and shot upwards toward the light.
He broke the surface into the darkest levels of damnation. Fire flickered and danced on the surface of the water. That had been the lights he’d seen. For a moment, Aven couldn’t imagine what was happening. Then he saw the outline at the heart of the flames, and realized what had happened.
The canoe had somehow caught fire. How didn’t matter. What did matter was that there had indeed been inferno oil soaked into the deck timbers that they’d had no time to replace. The entire canoe was ablaze, and the fire was spreading over the surface of the water. He could hear sailors shouting as they rushed to get the great ship underway, out of reach of the flames. Aven couldn’t make out one figure from the next as they ran around the deck, couldn’t see his parents anywhere. Were they away? Were they safe?
Then, over the shouting of the sailors, over the crackling and popping of the flames, over sounds of wind and water, a woman’s voice pierced like a blade.
“Ven! Go!”
Aven dove, his mother’s voice ringing in his ears. He had no idea where she was, but she had to have still been in her land form, in order to shout at him. That meant...
Mother of them all, she’d still been on the ship! His parents had both still been on the ship — there was no way that Aleia would have remained behind if Jehan had gone. And if the ship was underway, that meant that Mannon had control again.
Mannon had them both.
And there was nothing Aven could do to help them. He had no weapons — those had all been on the canoe. He had only the clothes on his back and the canvas carry-bag that contained a diadem, four gems, and a single dark-gray pearl that suddenly didn’t seem nearly as important as it once had been. He knew that he should surface, find Aria. If he waited for dawn, he’d be seen. But he needed to at least wait out the fire. So he stayed deep, watching as the flickering light from the surface faded away. Only then did he rise up once more, and break the surface.
The moon was near the horizon, painting the sea with a silver-gray glow. The water was as calm and smooth as glass, and as unbroken. There was no sign of the ship, or of the canoe. Aven stayed where he was for a moment, turning to search. Then he set out for shore, trying to find a place where he could hide and change without being seen.
He came ashore amidst rocks on a beach that was within sight of the walls of Forge. It was the only cover he could find, and not very good cover at that. He hid behind the largest rock, watching as the sky grew lighter, feeling terrifyingly vulnerable. His father had taught him that this was when he was at the most risk – when he was in the heart of the change, neither sea nor land, but something between. It was something that he’d never really understood before. Now he knew it in his bones and hated it. It seemed to be hours before he could once more stand on his own feet. He climbed out of the rocks and looked up at the sky — it was that not quite light, not quite dark that just preceded the sun rising. He needed to go. He needed to get to Forge.
He started walking, feeling the ground turn from sand to rocks under his feet, then to a smooth surfaced road. After a while, he started feeling as if there was something missing. He looked around, puzzled. He could hear the wind through the trees, and the sound of birdsong. What was missing? He turned in a slow circle, and it was when he looked back the way he’d come that he realized what was missing. He could no longer hear the sea. He swallowed, looking out at the water.
“Aven!”
There was a wild flutter of wings as he turned, and Aria hit him, hard enough to knock him off his feet. They landed in a tangle of arms and legs, and he gasped as the air was knocked out of him. She didn’t seem to notice — she clung to him, crying, and he put his arms around her, listening to her until he could make out words in the sobs..
“... I couldn’t see and I flew until I found land and I landed and I hid until it was light enough that I could come and find out. I was terrified I wouldn’t find you,” she gasped and sniffled. Then, to Aven’s complete shock, she grabbed him and kissed him solidly on the lips. “You’re all right,” she whispered. “I’m fine now, now that I know you’re all right.” She looked down at him, and frowned. “Except that I knocked you down. Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” Aven said. “Let me up. We need to keep moving.”
Aria got off of him and helped him to his feet. “Move where?” she asked, taking his arm. Then she looked around. “Aven, where are they?”
Her words cut like a knife. “I don’t know,” he said quietly. “I... I don’t think they got away. I think he has them.”
Aria gaped at him, “No. Oh, no! Aven, what do we do?”
“Get to Forge,” Aven answered. “Then... I don’t know. Find Memfis.” He put his arm around her waist, holding her close. “We do what we were told. Then... we’ll figure out the next step then.”
She looked up at him. “Aven—”
“I promised to keep you safe,” he said. “I’m going to do that.” He glanced back at the sea. “I can’t think about anything else yet. Not until we’re safe.”
He turned toward Forge, and they started walking. He couldn’t make himself stop touching her, stop looking at her. He kept having to check, to make sure that she was real, even though he could feel her in his arms, her body pressed to his side.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said softly. “We might be faster if you held my hand instead of all of me.”
Aven swallowed, looked at her, and nodded; he let her go, and took her hand as they walked. It did help with their progress, and the walls of Forge grew larger as they got closer. Which raised the question of what they were going to do once they were in the city?
“Have you ever been in a city like this?” he asked Aria.
“The Solstice Fair village, once,” she answered. “It’s not nearly this big.”
Aven frowned. He was about to ask Aria if she had any ideas when he heard something rattling and rhythmic. It was getting closer.
“Come on. We need to get off the road,” he said. He looked around, saw a stand of small, scrubby trees, and tugged Aria’s hand. “We might be able to hide there.”
They ran from the road and hid in the trees, just as the source of the noise came into view. To Aven, it looked like a box on wheels, drawn by a gray, furry beast. A horse? He wondered. He’d never seen one, but his father had told him about them. There were two men sitting in the box — a man who looked to be a little younger than Aven, and an older man with dark skin.
“This is it,” the older man announced as he did something to make the box stop rolling. “They’re here.”
“You’re sure?” the younger man asked. “I mean, I know you saw it, and you’re never wrong about that. But are you sure it’s today?”
The older man nodded, handing the lines to the younger one and getting out of the box. He took curved staves from the back and came around, facing the stand of trees. He cocked his head to the side, then raised his voice. “I know you’re there. Aven, son of Aleia. Aria, daughter of my Milon. Come out.”
Aven looked at Aria, who was staring back at him. Who...?
“Memfis,” he whispered. “That’s Memfis!”