descends from the clouds, and in that black hell you’ll curse your own stupid waywardness, that has cost Alifros its life.’
‘Erithusme,’ said Pazel, ‘I can see right through you.’
‘The Pits you can, you imp.’
‘I mean literally,’ said Pazel.
The mage raised a hand before her eyes: it was transparent. She sighed. But it was not only the mage whose time had come. The entire court was fading. He could see the hillside through the ruins, the dry earth through Erithusme’s chest. The mage growled and plunged a hand into the cauldron, digging furiously. At last she straightened, and in her soot-covered hand lay a last, softly glowing coal.
‘I am coming back,’ she said, ‘and you, Thasha’s lover: you are going to make it possible. I know this. I have known it since I first heard your name. But I said I would answer your question, and I shall. If all seem lost — and
Her hand closed. He saw smoke through her fingers.
She was gone.
Thaulinin beckoned to him from the hilltop: apparently he was still forbidden to descend. The Demon’s Court had vanished, and in its place lay nothing more than a barren slope. Pazel shivered as he climbed; the wind was unrelenting.
Clouds had appeared, pursuing one another across the sky, swallowing and disgorging the moons. He was exhausted, suddenly. The dead earth, so unlike any other place in Ularamyth, spoke to him of the endless brutality of the road ahead.
The selk greeted him with a sombre nod. ‘Were you successful?’ he asked.
Pazel leaned on the iron fence. ‘I don’t know. I’m not even sure what that means any more.’
Thaulinin looked at him strangely. ‘That is unfortunate. Your quest is bringing greater losses to my people than anyone foresaw. I hope they are not all in vain.’
Pazel jerked upright. ‘What are you talking about, Thaulinin?’
‘Come, I will show you.’ He led Pazel to the opposite side of the hilltop, facing the side of the lake they had crossed. ‘Wait for the cloud to pass. . there.’
As if a curtain had been thrown open, moonlight flooded over Ularamyth. And there on the lower slopes of the island, near the shore, a crowd was running fast. They were selk, sixty or eighty of them, and they ran like contestants in a race, bunched close together; but in their hands were spears and daggers and long selk swords. Over a small rise they passed, fluid as horses, then down onto the rocky beach and-
‘No!’ Pazel shouted. ‘Oh Pitfire, no!’
— straight into the lake, one after another, without slowing or appearing to mind when the water closed greedily over their heads.
‘They will emerge again,’ said Thaulinin softly, ‘but you are right to ache. I counted seventy-six. Tomorrow the tears will flow in Ularamyth: we are so few, and when those souls find their owners we will be fewer yet. If any doubted that battle lay before us we have our proof tonight. Something was decided here that will also decide the fate of the selk.’
Noises behind them: Thasha was racing up the slope. Ramachni and Lord Arim walked behind. Pazel dashed through the gate to meet her, caught her in his arms. She was tear-streaked and shaking, and her hands trembled violently.
‘Don’t,’ said Thasha, flinching.
‘What happened? What did you do?’
‘I didn’t do anything,’ she said. ‘I just fell through the rock, down and down and down. We never reached bottom, we just stopped and hung there. It was so black, Pazel, and so
Pazel stared deep into those frightened eyes.
‘Pazel?’
He pulled her close again. ‘I’m on your side,’ he said. ‘No one else’s. Do you hear me?’
She kissed his ear, weeping freely. ‘They broke me open. So that she could come out and talk to you. They had to, I know that-’
‘Did they?’
She blinked at him, her look accusing — no, self-accusing. She swabbed her face with her sleeve.
‘I didn’t think I’d be so
Her voice came out tiny, a little girl’s, a voice he knew gave her shame. He kissed her, undone by love; no force in Rin’s heaven could challenge this one; they could try anything they liked.
‘I’m with you, Thasha. I’ll always be with you. No matter what happens I’ll keep you safe.’
Thasha shook her head, adamant, trembling like a leaf. ‘Promise,’ she said, weeping again. ‘Promise you won’t.’
14
The wolves have finally pounced.
As I write this, I feel how lucky we are to be alive. Whether luck and life will still be with us much longer is uncertain. For now all credit goes to Captain Rose. People change; ships grow faster, arms more diabolical. But nothing beats a seasoned skipper, no matter his moods or eccentricities.
Five bells. Lunch still heavy in my stomach. A shout from the crow’s nest: Ship dead astern! I happened to be right there at the wheel with Elkstem, and we rushed to the spankermast speaking-tube to hear the man properly.
‘She was hid by the island, it’s not my fault!’ he shouted. That told us next to nothing: there were islands all about us, great and small, settled and unsettled (though with each day north we saw fewer signs of habitation), sandy and stony, lush and bone-dry. We’d been winding among them for a week.
‘A monster of a boat!’ the lookout was shouting. ‘Ugly, huge! She’s five times our measure if she’s a yard.’
‘Five times our blary length?’ cried the sailmaster. ‘Gather your wits, man, that’s impossible! Distance! Heading!’
‘Maybe
‘What
‘East, Mr Fiffengurt, or east-by-southeast. They’re under full sail, sir, and-’
Silence. We both screamed at the poor lad, and then he answered shrilly: ‘Correction, correction! Vessel tacking northwards! They’ve spied us, they’ve spied us!’
Not just spied, but fingered us for dinner, it appeared. I blew the whistle; the lieutenants started bellowing like hounds. In seconds we were preparing for war.
From the hatches men were spilling like ants, the dlomu answering the call as quickly as the humans, if not more so. Mr Leef finally brought me a telescope. I raised it, but shut my eyes before I looked.
