“There, see? The blue Fairuz.” Askander First Warden pointed toward the bright water on the horizon. “We need but cross the river, and za hanu, we have reached Bayyid Eidtein.”
Ani looked up from the path and smiled. She was stuck, as always, with a pang of attraction that never seemed to lose its edge no matter the distance or the number of gray hairs between them. “I am obligated to you once more for accompanying me, First Warden. Talieso and I would not have made such good time without your help.”
“I did not accompany you to incur obligation… Youthmistress.” He grinned at her, the same wicked flash of teeth in a sun-loved face that had caused her heart to skip all those years ago, when he had been a handsome youth and she a round-eyed cub looking for her hayatani. He had been no easy meat, but she had been a most persistent huntress. “Ah, I see you still blush like a girl.”
“I still kick like a girl, too, ehuani.” She stuck her tongue out at him and they shared a laugh, comfortable and warm as the autumn sun.
She had not exaggerated when she said they had made good time, despite a rough start. It had been long and a day since she had ridden so far north. The paths had shifted and many of the oases she remembered had been swallowed up by the hungry sands. At first Ani had been forced to push Talieso harder and farther on less water than she had wanted. By the time they had stumbled across the Ja’Sajani taking census she and her stallion had both been footsore, butt-hurt, and seriously out of sorts with each other. First Warden had replenished her stores, guided her to better paths, and had offered assistance more graciously than she accepted it.
She was glad now for his company. Askander had proven himself willing and able to lend a hand. Both hands, in fact, and on more than one occasion. Her mood had mellowed, and although she was saddle-sore and loath to rise in the mornings, it had been, all in all, the most enjoyable ride she had had in years.
She would be glad of his presence, as well, when she delivered the knife to Hafsa Azeina. Ani had not spoken to the dreamshifter since that fateful night, and guilt chewed at her heart.
If only I had not spoken to the dreamshifter about my suspicions, she thought, perhaps I might have gotten an explanation from Nurati. If only Zeina would have at least waited for the child to be born. If only Nurati had not meddled in the dreamshifter’s affairs…
Inna’hael growled.
If only you would learn to quiet your mind, he grumbled. You make more noise than a cub hunting spiders. He shimmered into being to her right, nearly invisible against the russet sands. Talieso snorted and danced to the left. Although he had never objected to the presence of other vash’ai, her stallion had not warmed to this wild sire and always kept one eye rolled in his direction. His ears flattened and he crowhopped, announcing his willingness to stomp the cat into mush at the first sign of a threat.
The wild vash’ai ignored the horse completely. He ignored Askander as well, and treated Askander’s Duq’aan with such contempt that the smaller sire had scarcely been seen since they had left Riharr. Ani had attempted to chide the sire for his rudeness, but he had laughed at her with his eyes.
Get rid of that thing, he urged, as he had done many times since she had taken up the flensing knife. Throw it aside. Bury it. Let it lie forgotten until stars dim and moons fade. It stinks of soul magic. Get rid of that snake, too. Better to kill a thing than keep it in a box.
The lionsnake whelp screeched and thumped as if it knew they were discussing its fate, and Talieso flattened his ears, letting her know again what he thought of being forced to carry such a thing across the desert.
“A live lionsnake whelp is worth ten salt jars in the Zeera, and twice as much to the outlanders,” she retorted. “We will be rid of it once we reach the market, and I am taking the knife to Hafsa Azeina.”
Ah yes, the dreamshifter. Inna’hael growled again, a low rumble she felt more than heard. Kith to Khurra’an… I do so look forward to seeing him again.
“How do you know Khurra’an?”
Khurra’an and I are old… friends. Even as he mindspoke the word, red flashed across her vision and the taste of hot blood filled her mouth.
“Wait, no… wait, you. I will not get involved in some kind of war between vash’ai.”
War? War is a stupid human concept. You stalk an enemy until you have him by the throat, and then agree that he may keep his queens. Stupid humans. He lifted his tail and let his lower jaw drop, displaying massive tusks. Why would you be involved in a war, sweet one? You are no queen, you are a huntress. You bring meat for the pride and watch over the cubs. You hunt, you guard, and you do as you are told. Why else would I have chosen you?
A sudden wind kicked up a faceful of sand, and both horses spooked. Inna’hael became one with the squall, faded away until he was no more than a pair of yellow eyes and a saber-tusked grin, and then he was gone altogether. The wind died. Talieso whipped her leg with his tail and stamped, furious with her for not doing something about that cat.
Askander whistled softly through his teeth.
“I do not envy you your companion,” he said. “It is hard enough with a bonded vash’ai. I cannot imagine what it must be like to face down a wild sire, much less a kahanna. I thought your dreamshifter was a bold one, but this! You have some tits, woman.”
“Wait… kahanna? What is this?” Ani had the sudden, sinking feeling that she was about to hear something she did not really wish to know.
“Kahanna. You know… a vash’ai sorcerer.”
“Za fik,” Ani swore, with feeling. “Of all the goatfucking, sword-sucking, maggot-infested, gut-wounded, nut-licking animals in the world, why did this one have to choose me to pick on?”
Askander threw his head back and roared, startling a golden hare from a pile of rocks. “Oh, Ani, you precious thing, he doubtless chose you for your sweet words and gentle manner.”
Ani scowled at him. “Males of any species are a pain in my ass.”
Talieso stretched his neck back and bit her foot, hard.
The sound of their laughter, the sun in Askander’s hair, the way his eyes curved into half-moons as he laughed at her. These things would become a memory to be treasured, bottled up and hoarded. A memory to light her way in dark times.
The faint path they had been following for so long now had become a wide avenue of footprints, hoofprints, claw-marks and wagon-ruts. As they drew closer to the river and to the wide arch spanning its steep banks these tracks gave way to a groomed, hard-packed avenue and finally to a cobbled stone road. They kept their horses to the side and gave them their head. Encouraged by the smell of fresh water and sweet grasses, their stallions fell into a strong trot. Askander’s eyes took on a faraway look for a few heartbeats, and then he looked at her and smiled.
“Duq’aan has found a pride of young and unattached queens to flirt with until we are ready to leave. Will Inna’hael accompany us into Bayyid Eidtein, or will he remain outside the city walls?”
“He will do as he will do.” Ani shrugged, reluctant to admit that although Inna’hael spoke to her as he wished, he rarely chose to do so. “We are here, and that is what matters now.” She could feel the fell knife, wrapped and bound in leather and hanging from her belt. She had not wanted to leave it in her saddlebags, but touching or even looking at its naked blade made her flesh crawl. “Now we must find Hafsa Azeina and give her this blade, and that will be an end to it as far as I am concerned.” She pushed the thought of Nurati back down to the dark deeps of her mind.
“Ah, yes, the dreamshifter.” Askander set his mouth in a thin hard line and picked up the pace.
Ani stood in her stirrups and held a hand up to shade her eyes as the bridge to Bayyid Eidtein came into view. “Look, oh look, it is just there. It is so big! I had not known it was so… big!”
Askander snickered. “Not the first time I have heard those words from you.”
“I was not speaking of your ego, First Warden. I was speaking of the bridge. Half a troop could ride abreast with room to spare. But there are no guards… just look at the low walls of the city! And they have planted trees from the river banks to the wall.” She clucked her tongue. “A single pride could take this place in a single day and have time left over for a game of aklashi.”
“Yes, but who would want to take Bayyid Eidtein? It is known as a den of rogues and miscreants. Travelers and traders from Quarabala to Rah Kuwei come here to drink and whore, to gamble and fight…”
“Why have you not brought me here before?” She grinned. “It sounds like my kind of place.”
“Which is precisely why I have not brought you here before. Bad enough we should let you influence our younglings, without turning you loose on the poor tender outlanders.”
Ani was spared the need to reply as they drew close to an ancient olive tree which squatted next to the road like a wide and ancient grandmother napping in the sunlight. A voice hailed them from its gray-green boughs and both Talieso and Akkim spooked to the side like silly young colts.
“Yassa!” A smiling and heavily tattooed brown face peeked out from the foliage. “O good travelers, how my heart delights to see you! How I could kiss your cheeks and weep with joy!”
Ani raised her brows at Askander. “He seems happy to see us. Why do you suppose that is? Do you think perhaps he is a brigand and means to rob us? I suppose we should shoot him.”
Askander reached for his bow. “He did threaten to kiss us. I suppose it is only prudent.”
“No… no!” The boy squeaked, and practically tripped over his own tongue, so quickly did he speak. “O honored pridesmen of the Zeera, please have pity on a poor traveler…”
“Pity. Yes, that is the word I was looking for.” Askander agreed. “Pray tell, why are you perched up in that tree like a songbird?”
“The better to beg for a kiss?” Ani guessed. “Fly down here, little bird, and ask me to my face. Perhaps I will kiss you with my knife.”
“Ah, beautiful lady. I, ah, I find myself in a deplorable state of undress at the moment… and I would never dare to beg a kiss of such a lovely—”
“I would stop right there,” Askander warned, “before she decides to cut you after all.”
“Ehuani, Askander, I believe he was speaking to you.” She clucked to Talieso. “Let us leave this little bird to his singing.”
“A moment! Please!” The boy sounded near tears. Ani pulled her horse around with a heavy sigh.
“Make it quick, outlander. We have business in the city.”
“The… city.” The boy blinked. “Of course. As I say, I find myself, ah, sadly without…”
Askander urged Akkim under the tree and looked up. “Clothes. Naked as a fish. Caught with another man’s lover, hey?”
“His daughter,” came the woeful reply. “She was willing enough—”
“Dumped you off out here for the bandits and barbarians without a stitch to cover your hide, did he?” Ani laughed.
“Yes, and he stole my horse, as well.” The boy indeed looked woebegone.
“Ah, the folly of youth.” Ani reached back to rummage in her saddlebag. “I suppose I can… Here. It will be a bit short on you, I suppose, but at least your balls will not be hanging out in the wind.” She tossed him an old tunic.
A brown and surprisingly muscular arm shot out from the tree, and he caught the garment neatly.
“O great lady, the birds will sing your praises!” He favored her with an impish grin. “Especially this bird.” He pulled the linen over his head and dropped from the branches. A lanky youth, at the most twenty years of age. “If I could beg one further favor…”
Askander glanced at Ani and sighed. “I suppose you are going to insist on holding his hand all the way to the city. Give you a brat with big brown eyes, and you go soft in the head.”
Ani looked the youth over and hid a smile. Her girls would be fighting one another for a shot at this one, for sure, curly black hair and mischief to the bone. “Perhaps he will be of use to us. Tell me, boy, do you know Bayyid Eidtein?”
“I do, O beauteous one.” He started to bow, seemed to think better of it as the hem of her tunic rode up his thigh, and settled for a flourish of his hands instead. “Let me be your guide. I know the city well.”
“If you do not stop trying to flatter me, I will take my shirt back from you and let you walk naked.”
His face fell a little at that. “Walk? I had hoped…” He eyed their horses.
“Do not push your luck, brat. This woman’s bark is bad enough, but her bite is much worse.” Askander turned so Ani could just see the mark her teeth had left on his shoulder, just this morning. If only she had something to throw at him…
“No outlander may touch our asil,” she informed the brat. “You will walk beside us. Tell me, have others of our people arrived recently? Warriors, and an injured girl, and a woman with golden eyes?”
The boy stopped and stared at them. “You are with the barbarian sorceress? I cannot go with you,” he said. “I am sorry, I am most abjectly sorry, but I cannot. A dreamshifter, and ne Atu, and that… that girl…” He backed away, eyes huge.
Ani showed her teeth. “Did I ask whether you wanted to come with us? You will walk, or we will tether you like a goat and you will drag behind. But you are coming with us.” She turned to Askander. “Did you bring rope?”
“Did I bring rope?” He clucked his tongue. “Did I bring rope. Did I bring water? Food? A bedroll, perhaps?”
“Smartass.”
“Excellent choice. Talieso does not like dragging people, and often shits on their heads in protest. What is your name?”
“Soutan Mer.” His voice was sullen.
Mer, she thought. Why is that name familiar to me?
“Mer?” Askander’s brows rose at that. “Of the salt merchants?”
“Yes.”
“Interesting. Tell us, Son of the Salt, you know of the people we seek. When did they arrive in Bayyid Eidtein? Are they still there?”
“Four days ago. And no, they have gone on to Atualon.” He looked up at them speculatively. “Is it true that the queen consort has been living among the desert barbarians as a dreamshifter? Why has she come? Why is she with the children of Ka Atu? Are they her prisoners? Does she hope to take his throne? They say he is ill. Is that girl really his daughter?”
Askander pursed his mouth and looked at her from the corner of his eyes. “This was your idea.”
“Za fik,” she swore softly. “I told you males are a pain in my ass. Het het!”
Ani laid her leg along her stallion’s side and urged him to a walk fast enough to keep the boy from asking more questions. She schooled her face to stillness, schooled her heart not to fly, to sing, forced herself not to urge Talieso into a headlong and heedless gallop.
She had heard the fear in the boy’s voice, had seen the look in his eye at the mention of Hafsa Azeina, and these things were not to be ignored. The winds of fear might fan the embers of war to flame. But right now, in this moment, Ani could not bring herself to care about such things. For the youth had carried the words she was most desperate to hear.
Sulema was alive.