to stay in place. He felt the moment Trevanion began to climb behind him, the chain becoming taut and painful to hold.
At the top, he extended a hand to Trevanion and pulled with all his might. He felt pain shoot up from his elbow, but he gritted his teeth and ignored it. They grabbed at the chain and hauled it up to hide it from their pursuers.
'Stay down!' Trevanion said, struggling for air.
For a long while they did not move, pressing themselves flat against the rock as the dogs barked and the guards called out to one another below. Finnikin watched his father, waiting for a sign. It wasn't until the air was silent and Trevanion seemed satisfied they would not be seen from afar that he pointed out a path to the east over the caves.
'But to get to the shrine—' Finnikin began.
Trevanion silenced him.
'All you do is follow,' he said.
Later, when Finnikin felt there was no more strength in his body, when the sun caused the world to double in his eyes and Trevanion half carried him down the rock face toward the ravine, he thought he heard the sound of rain. Suddenly Trevanion stopped and Finnikin stumbled to his knees. Before them, from the mountain above, a stream of water showered from the rocks in sprays of silver. And behind the waterfall, like an apparition, was the shrine of the goddess Sagrami.
Without thinking, Finnikin staggered to his feet and pulled off his shirt and trousers to stand naked under the coolness. When he looked back at Trevanion, his father was staring at the water with an expression of wonder. Then he removed his clothing and stood alongside Finnikin, lifting his face to the sky and extending his arms. Slowly he turned and placed his hands on either side of Finnikin's head, before pressing his lips to his son's forehead like a man giving thanks to his goddess for all things blessed. And for the first time since Trevanion's arrest in Lumatere, Finnikin allowed the tears to fall under the shower from the rocks, mingling them with the blood and grime and rot that he knew would never be truly washed from his father's memory.
In the ravine below was the horse from Sarnak. Trevanion leaped on and grabbed Finnikin's injured arm, almost pulling it out of its socket. Sharp threads of pain shot through him, but he held on as his father turned the horse toward the east. When they reached the fork in the road, following the novice's instructions, they found the path of stones that took them into the woods.
Trevanion rode the horse hard, and it took all of Finnikin's strength not to lose his grip. As he stared into the distance, he began to doubt that the cottage in the woods even existed. Until there it was, and standing at the gate that marked its entrance was Sir Topher ... and Evanjalin.
Trevanion was off the horse in an instant and went straight for the girl's throat, lifting her from the ground. It took Sir Topher and Finnikin's combined strength to pull him away.
'Let her go, Trevanion,' Sir Topher said. 'She's more good to us alive than dead.'
After a moment Trevanion released her and she stumbled. She looked to Finnikin, but he would not meet her gaze.
Trevanion took Sir Topher's hand and gripped it hard. 'I am your servant until my last day on this earth,' he said quietly as the two men embraced.
Finnikin winced as Sir Topher put a hand on his shoulder.
'You are in pain?'
'I'm fine.' He watched as Evanjalin disappeared into the trees beyond the cottage.
'You were lucky she only sent you to prison. She sold the thief to the traders of Sorel.'
'Mercy,' Finnikin said, amazed that her actions still had the power to surprise him. But he had seen the bruises on her face, and he looked at the older man closely. 'What did he do to her?'
'Enough to deserve what he got.'
That night, as Finnikin lay in the loft nursing his arm, Evanjalin crouched beside him. He smelled leaves of rosemary and eucalyptus and watched as she stirred a substance into a paste and then administered the balm to his bruised and swollen face.
'Did I not tell you to bend to their will?' she reprimanded him.
'Have I ever given you reason to believe that I would bend to another's will?' he replied sharply. When the balm stung his face, he gripped her wrist with a firmness he knew caused pain.
'Why are you so angry?' she asked, pulling away.
'You betrayed me! Am I supposed to be grateful? Am I supposed to thank you?'
'You have your father. Lumatere has the captain of its Guard.'
'Lumatere doesn't exist!'
'That is your belief, Finnikin!' she said. 'I can tell by reading your
'You have no right to touch that book,' he said angrily.
'You dropped it when the soldiers took you away.'
'Don't you mean I dropped it when you betrayed me?'
She studied his face for a moment. 'You list the dead. You tell the stories of the past. You write about the catastrophes and the massacres. What about the living, Finnikin? Who honors them?'
'You think you're worthy of the task?' he asked bitterly. 'After what you've done? Go to bed, Evanjalin. Lumaterans sleep easier without your help.'
He heard her sigh as she leaned toward him. 'Only someone who has the comfort of two fathers sleeping close by could make such a statement.'
She lifted his arm and he winced. 'I'm going to have to dislocate your shoulder,' she said. 'I know exactly what to do, so you need not fear anything. Do you want a signal, or would you like to signal me?'
'What kind of a signal?' he said, alarmed. 'Can I trust you?'
She looked hurt. 'Of course you can. Maybe a count.'
'As in one, two—'
His cry of pain echoed across the stable, and within seconds Trevanion was in the loft with Sir Topher at his heels.
'What have you done?' Trevanion bellowed, grabbing her by the arm and shaking her.
Finnikin was spluttering, his eyes rolling and watering from the waves of pain that paralyzed his arm.
'I know how to administer to cuts and injuries,' she said in a small voice.
'Is that what you do? Administer suffering?' Trevanion snarled.
'Let her go, Trevanion,' Sir Topher said. 'She has suffered herself. She was with the exiles in Sarnak.'
'And you believe her?' Trevanion asked coldly.
Evanjalin looked down, unable to meet his stare.
'Tell us who they were. What part of Lumatere did they come from?' Trevanion asked.
'Go on, Evanjalin,' Sir Topher said gently.
But she would not respond, and despite the pain, Finnikin clenched his fist with fury.
'You lied to the High Priestess about Sarnak?' he accused.
'No, I didn't.' Eyes still downcast, she handed Sir Topher the herbs. 'On the arm, just below the joint,' she said as she climbed out of the loft.
Trevanion's expression was hard. 'We rid ourselves of her the first moment we get.'
Chapter 9
Leaving Sorel became their only priority, and despite Trevanion's objections to anything Evanjalin suggested, they agreed with her that the lawless town at land's end was their best bet for survival. Speranza was a place that had been conquered, reconquered, and relinquished so many times that no one seemed to remember who governed it. In such a place, the presence of two escaped prisoners, even one who looked as if he had stepped out of the depths of hell, would go largely unnoticed.
At midday they entered the courtyard of the tavern in town. From the balconies, women beckoned to them
