speaking, howling, about the wrath of the Angel of Rin. He heard Rose whisper, 'Mother!' in his sleep.
But the sounds of the Chathrand were but a puff of wind in the storm. Pazel could hear all the waves in the Nelu Peren, breaking on every rock and raft and seawall in the Empire. He could hear the layers of the wind, pouring over the world like drifts of snow, mile over mile, and thinning at last to the icy flute-song of the void. He heard sea turtles hatching on a warm Bramian beach. He heard a creature many times Chathrand's length devouring a whale on the floor of the Nelluroq.
Then a gentle breeze tamed the cyclone. It was Ramachni's breath, Pazel knew, and it flowed into that mad cauldron of sounds and silenced them-entirely. In seconds it was all gone, even his own heartbeat was gone. The world might have been dead, or frozen for eternity in solid diamond. And into that perfect silence Ramachni spoke three words.
He was sitting up. Dizzy, dazed. Thasha was stumbling toward an armchair. Ramachni trembled at his side.
What had happened? How much time had passed? For a moment Pazel was reminded of the time years before when he had woken to find the lilies grown tall in his mother's garden, and himself barely escaped from death. But no, not this time. Minutes had passed, not weeks, and he wasn't ill. Just full, to the very edge of madness, with remembered sounds.
'I heard the whole world breathing,' he said.
Slowly, achingly, Ramachni raised his head. Pazel met his gaze.
'The words,' he said. 'I have them. I can feel them in my head! But what are they for?'
'They are the simplest of Master-Words. But when you speak them they will be spells of fabulous power. One will tame fire. Another will make stone of living flesh. And the third will blind to give new sight.'
'Blind to give new sight? What does that mean?'
'You will know.'
'Look at this place,' said Thasha vaguely. 'It's a disaster.'
So it was: a whirlwind seemed to have passed through the stateroom. Pictures were crooked, chairs overturned, crumbs of cake spread everywhere. Thasha herself, with her hair bedraggled and her silver necklace twisted over one shoulder, looked as if she had just climbed down from a mast.
Ramachni touched Pazel's arm. 'Remember: each word is gone forever after you speak it. Everything depends on your choices. Listen to your heart, and choose well.'
He crept down from the window bench, wheezing like an old man. Thasha hurried forward and lifted him. Her face was suddenly very worried.
'Be strong, my warrior,' Ramachni said to her. 'Now go and find Hercуl, and let him take me to my rest.'
But there was no need to go looking for Hercуl. Seconds later he threw open the outer door, leaped inside and slammed it behind him.
'Ramachni, you have kept them too long!' he whispered. 'Hide! Her father comes! By the Night Gods, you two-straighten your clothes and sit down to your studies!'
Ramachni vanished into Thasha's cabin while Hercуl began frantically putting the room in order. Snatching up Thasha's grammar book, he thrust it into Pazel's hands.
'For the love of Rin, watch that tongue of yours!'
They had just enough time to drop into studious postures before Eberzam Isiq flung open the door.
'So,' he said with a glance at Hercуl, 'you found them.'
He was furious. Pazel reflected dimly (his mind was still rather thick) that he had never apologized-but how could he apologize for speaking the truth?
Hercуl cleared his throat. 'I found them. Hard at the books, Your Excellency.'
'But not in public chambers,' said Isiq. 'Did I give you the run of my cabin, Pathkendle?'
'No, sir,' said Pazel, struggling to his feet. His voice sounded odd to his own ears. Thasha started to rise as well, then sat again with a thump.
'And yet you dare return,' said Isiq, breathless with rage, 'after your insolence a month ago.'
'Don't blame him, Prahba,' said Thasha, her voice equally strange. 'I couldn't stand the noise in the lounge. I made him come here.'
He looked at her, clearly taken aback. 'You brought him? Well, then-it is not your fault, Pathkendle. But it is most improper that you two should be alone! Bring Syrarys, next time-or fetch Nama, or Hercуl. Hmmph! And how is her Mzithrini, boy?'
Pazel swallowed. 'She… amazes me, Excellency.'
Isiq demanded a demonstration. Thasha cleared her throat and said, 'My husband is not always a pencil.'
'Are you laughing, boy?'
'No, sir.' Pazel gave a gagging cough. Isiq took a step closer, studying him.
'Chadfallow might have adopted you,' said Isiq.
Now it was Pazel's turned to be startled. 'Yes, sir,' he stammered. 'I owe the doctor a great deal.'
'You're an educated boy. Why did you risk insulting me that day?'
Pazel gripped the chair. 'I have no excuse, Your Excellency.'
'Just as well.' Isiq forced out a chuckle. 'You learned Mzithrini from their envoy, didn't you? Chadfallow called him a barbarian in silks. Perhaps a little barbarism rubbed off on you? Not a bad thing, that. A little barbarism fortifies a man.'
'Yes, Excellency.'
'Let us forget the past, shall we? You showed great valor with those augrongs. And when I learned that you were the son of Gregory Pathkendle I naturally wished to meet you. That coat is to your liking?'
'Yes, Excellency; I thank you.'
'We shall forget the past.' Isiq ruffled Pazel's hair. 'A strange meeting for us both, eh? You're the first Ormali I've spoken to since the Rescue. And naturally I am the first soldier of that campaign to speak with you.'
'No, Excellency. The first to speak with me was the corporal who kicked me unconscious because he wanted to rape my mother and sister, and could not find them.'
After Hercуl had clamped a hand over his mouth and dragged him from the stateroom (with a look that made it clear just how thoroughly Pazel had cooked his own goose), after Uskins appeared and stripped him to the waist and tied his wrists to a fife-rail, after men gathered by the score to gawk and mumble about Rose's wrath, after someone began to lash him with a knotted whip and a gleeful Uskins shouted, 'Harder, wretch, or I'll demonstrate on you,' after Pazel heard a sob and realized Neeps had been made to deliver the punishment, after Pazel felt tears streaming down his cheeks and blood trickling to his breeches-only then did the worst result of his outburst occur to him.
He would never see Thasha again.
But that was the least of his troubles, wasn't it? He had never much bothered with girls: everyone knew they spelled disaster in a seafarer's life. Like coral isles, went the saying: pretty at a distance, ringed by reefs.
He shouldn't care. He didn't even know her, and what he did know-that she was the daughter of the man who had burned Ormael, and pampered, and rather violent, and indiscreet-he did not much like. Did he?
Fire and fumes, Pazel. You do.
It was a final, unexpected lash. She might have been a friend-after all these years, a friend! — but he would never find out now. And Neeps, his other friend: he would vanish, too, and kind Mr. Fiffengurt, and-oh, sky! — the chance of finding his parents and Neda again! If Dr. Chadfallow had really been guiding him back to them, Pazel had just thrown the chance away.
Suddenly he wished very humbly for the protection of the Imperial surgeon. What would happen to him? Who would care if he died?
Dr. Rain cleaned his wounds with eucalyptus oil and sent him back to his hammock. He could not lie in it, so he lay on his stomach on the filthy floor, hardly daring to sleep for fear that boys would tread on him in the blackness. And yet he must have slept, for sometime in that miserable night he found himself suddenly awake, possessed of a terrible awareness.
I've lost all my people.
But even as the thought crossed his mind, Neeps returned from his night shift, felt his way to Pazel and gripped his arm. Pazel sat up, wincing, and Neeps handed him a pouch.
