A Sacred Pool
Tsassani Land
Steam rose from the surface of the water, as though the whole stream had been put to a boil. White silt seemed to pool along the edges and around rocks in the stream, and the whole area stank like a soapmaker’s shop, pungent chemicals stinging the back of her throat and nose.
“Is it safe?” Acherre asked. “The horses won’t drink it.”
Acherre’s mount stood beside her, shying back from the bank of the stream. Sarine’s own horse had taken to grazing as soon as they’d arrived, but it, too, seemed to be avoiding the water.
“It’s not safe to drink,” Ka’Inari said, after she’d relayed Acherre’s question. “The animals are wise. But it is a sacred place, and safe to enter, if you can stand it.”
“This is the place from your vision?” Sarine asked, and Ka’Inari nodded.
She didn’t wait for more. Her boots came off as quick as she could free her feet. Her leggings followed, and her smallclothes. No sense dousing her garments in water that smelled like the leavings from a munitions factory. She took care to cradle Zi as she lifted her shirt, easing the sleeves around his fragile coils. She held him tight against her chest as she waded into the water, leaving her clothes behind on the shore.
The water was hot to the touch, enough to sear her skin. If not for Zi she might have held back, but the beast spirits’ gift of ignoring temperature made it bearable. The soreness in her feet and legs melted away as she submerged them, blisters from walking and riding salved by the heat. It took lowering herself at the center of the pool for the water to reach her chest and shoulders, but she did, careful to keep Zi’s head above the water as she soaked the rest of him in the spring. Zi’s scales flashed red and gold beneath the water, and he met her eyes, though he said nothing.
“I take it that means he said it was safe,” Acherre said dryly.
“Yes,” she said. “Sorry.”
Translation had been the least of her burdens since they’d set off from Ka’Ana’Tyat, though the need for it had made Acherre and Ka’Inari stranger company than they might have been, if the two of them had shared a tongue in common. The burden of walking had been tempered by the discovery of a pack of horses still wearing saddles and tack; Acherre had claimed the lead horse for herself, and roped down two more, with no sign of who their owners might have been, or why the horses had been left to the wild. With the horses they’d ranged across the span of two tribes’ land and not seen another soul. If not for Zi she would have let Axerian go. She’d never imagined traveling so far from New Sarresant, so far from her uncle and the city and every comfort she’d ever known. But for Zi she would find out whether the earth had an end.
Sarine. Zi’s thoughts felt frail, as though he struggled to form her name.
“Shh,” she said. “It’s all right. Ka’Inari said this place has healing magic. It will help.”
During blinks she caught sight of the leylines twisting in strange patterns beneath the springs, leaving afterimages of green pods swarming where the water bubbled up from the ground. She’d tried tethering Life into Zi a dozen times without effect, but perhaps a different power was at work here. There had never been a healing spirit among the creatures of the wild, though it was always possible this was an older place, predating the spread of her influence in—
Zi tensed, tightening his grip on her forearm, and she smothered her thoughts. “I’m sorry,” she said, and felt a rush of shame. She hadn’t had a vision in days, but intrusive thoughts sprang up like weeds in the chapel garden. Thoughts she shouldn’t have, memories from no life she’d ever lived, and even pondering their mysteries seemed to hurt Zi beyond what he could bear.
“Exarch’s balls, that’s fucking hot,” Acherre said, and withdrew her foot from the water quick as she’d dabbed it in. Only her boot was off, piled near Sarine’s clothes, but the captain hastened to get it back on rather than shed the rest. “I think I’ll leave the bathing to you, if it’s all the same.”
A fog of steam rose all around her. Perhaps it was hot, but her skin took it in stride. “Sorry,” she said. “I should have warned you. It was only, Zi needed …”
“Don’t trouble yourself,” Acherre said. “I need time to work with my mount. We’ll patrol around the spring a ways, make sure none of the natives are taking an interest in us.”
Ka’Inari had removed his footwear as well, thick leather slippers set beside a rock he’d sat atop, dangling his toes into the steam.
“You seem troubled,” Ka’Inari said as Acherre walked her horse away, leaving her and Ka’Inari alone beside the pool. “Is all well between you and the captain?”
“Yes. Acherre means to watch for anyone approaching while we bathe here.”
“Your companion, then.”
Sarine nodded, returning her attention to Zi. He was still quiet, clinging to her forearm as the heat from the pool seemed to lap streaks of red across his scales.
“I don’t think it’s helping him,” she said. “This is the place from your dream, isn’t it?”
“It is,” the shaman said. “The Tsassani pools. Not a place of the spirits, but it is known to them.”
“You said it was a place of healing.”
“Yes. But there are many sorts of wounds. Who can say, for your companion …” He trailed off, and seemed to stop himself. “That is, I’m sorry. I’d hoped this place would help.”
Zi’s eyes had closed, though his claws still held him in place. Asleep, perhaps, or resting. Best to let him linger. Perhaps the waters took time.
“What’s it like,” she asked, “hearing the voices of the spirits of visions?”
The question seemed to surprise the shaman. But it was better if they spoke of other things, something besides Zi’s sickness. If the pool was going to heal him, it was going to heal him. Dwelling on it wouldn’t help.
“It’s something I’ve known since I was a boy,” Ka’Inari said. “And not something spoken of, except to other Ka, or Ilek’Ka.”
“Oh.” She hadn’t meant to offend, but it appeared she had.
“It’s all right,” the shaman said. “I only meant I’m not used to describing it. The spirits of things-to-come speak differently than we do. They send images and sensations, memories sometimes. Dreams. It falls to us to interpret what they mean.”
“So it’s different than the others?”
“Others?”
“I spoke with spirits, when I killed mareh’et, lakiri’in, and again at Tanir’Ras’Tyat. They were cryptic, but they spoke in words, not emotions or images. Not so different from Zi, actually.”
The shaman had rolled his hide leggings up to his knees, submerging his calves into the pool, and he leaned farther forward at her mention of Zi, studying the serpentine head poked above the surface.
“I know nothing of your companion,” Ka’Inari said. “But yes, the spirits of beasts are different. More direct. As different as beasts are from the concepts of time and possibility.”
“Is that why they wouldn’t let me enter Ka’Ana’Tyat?”
“They only told me it wasn’t your place,” he said. “Typically they refuse entry to any who hasn’t performed the rituals and been foreseen by another shaman. I’d suspected it might be different, for you, given your blessings with the other spirits. But it appears it was not.”
“They said it wasn’t …” She trailed off. They’d said it wasn’t her place. Perhaps they’d only meant what Ka’Inari had said, that she hadn’t been chosen or performed the proper rituals, but it came dangerously close to the sort of talk that had been hurting Zi. Better if she changed the subject.
“Your visions,” she said instead. “When they send emotions, memories. Do you ever worry about getting them wrong?”
“Always. Even the best of us make mistakes.”
A painful reminder that they were two hundred leagues from anywhere, on little more than Ka’Inari’s promise that he saw a shadow in the west.
“You’re worried over our journey together,” he continued, and she nodded. “Don’t. One or two sendings could be misinterpreted, but I’ve had many, pertaining to you.”
“The spirits speak of me?”
Ka’Inari’s eyes seemed to flash, but he looked away again quickly.
“They are fascinated by you,” he said.
Silence passed between them. She wasn’t sure how or whether to ask for more. Strange, to consider how close Ka’Inari and his people lived to her city, yet neither knew the other’s ways. Suddenly her nakedness came to the forefront of her thoughts. Neither the shaman nor Acherre had reacted when she strode into the pool, but it was far from polite to shed one’s clothing in the presence of strangers. Was it similarly forward among the tribes? Now she felt like an ass—she hadn’t considered anything beyond the need to try to soak Zi in the pool.
She turned her attention back to her companion, stroking his neck below the water’s surface. He was getting worse. He’d hardly been able to string two words together since Ka’Ana’Tyat. His eyes seemed to be full of pain, and he spent most of the day asleep or comatose—she couldn’t tell which. She’d seen him dozing a thousand times, lazing about on whatever surface was at hand while she drew her sketches. This was different. She wasn’t even sure he would tell her if he knew what was wrong, or how to fix it. It had always been his nature to protect her, and who could say what would qualify as a thing from which she needed saving? The inequality of it burned, doubly so in light of the searing pool. It was her turn to protect him, and she came up short for her ignorance of how to do it.
Light flashed in her eyes, and she was somewhere else.
An empty place.
Her body floated in the water, but even the shape of her seemed a foreign memory. She had no form, no weight, only consciousness.
She wasn’t alone.
Another spark of light, a deep purple where she was blue.
IT SHOULD BE EASIER, IN LIGHT OF THE BREACH IN THE DIVIDE, AND YET I HAVE STRUGGLED TO SPEAK WITH YOU OF LATE.
What?
The words resonated in her mind, and seemed to project outward, until she wasn’t certain whether she’d spoken it or heard it from another source. The void around her was similar to the spirits’ place, but it was different. Calmer, somehow. More empty.
YOU ARE RESTORED. IT’S DONE, THEN. MY PART IN YOUR REBIRTH.
This was hurting Zi, she was sure of it. Her thoughts again seemed to reverberate with sudden force, and she formed them into words.
Please, stop. Let me go.
SO LONG AS YOU DO NOT FORGET OUR PACT. I HAVE TRUSTED YOU BEFORE, AND BEEN BETRAYED.
Air and water sputtered through her lungs, and she coughed, lying on her back in the sunlight.
“Sarine!”
Ka’Inari knelt over her, his image seeming to blur between the man and a shimmer of blue sparks before it settled on his face, full of concern and alarm.
She coughed again, tasting spoiled eggs in the back of her throat, and sat up, her lungs burning raw where water had gotten into her chest. She was on the bank of the pool, a trail of water splashed across the rocks where Ka’Inari must have dragged her out.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She tried to nod and coughed again. Zi was still coiled around her forearm, but her skin stung where his claws dug into her. Red droplets trickled from where he clung to her arm.
“Zi,” she managed. “Zi, are you okay?”
Zi clung tighter in reply, squeezing blood from her skin. She ignored the pain.
“You slipped under the water,” Ka’Inari said. “I was afraid you’d passed out from the heat.”
“No,” she said. “Something … I’m not sure what happened.”
The Regnant, Zi thought to her. I’ve tried to hold him back, but he grows stronger as we travel west.
“Zi!” Surprise touched her voice—it was more than he’d said at once in days.
I’m sorry. It wasn’t supposed to happen so soon. We needed time. Time for you to grow.
Ka’Inari sat back, surveying her as if to be sure she was all right.
“Zi, it’s fine. Don’t exert yourself. I’m fine. I didn’t—”
You must change. If you inherit too many of her memories, you will be lost. I tried to hold it all back, but I’ve failed. You will have to be strong now, Sarine.
“What do you mean? What’s happening?” Tears came to her eyes. Zi’s claws still stung where they dug into her skin. He wasn’t suddenly healed. He was using the last of his strength.
It’s time. I’m sorry. I tried to do better than this.
“Stop it,” she said. “Stop this, please.”
Don’t repeat her mistakes. You are not her.
Tears flowed, and she whispered something indiscernible. Begging. Pleading. But Zi had gone cold as suddenly as he’d seemed to find his strength, and his claws released their hold on her arm. His body uncoiled, leaving dead, scaled loops lying across her lap, the light in his gemstone eyes faded to a dull gray.