fate of all the worlds in her hand without a moment’s hesitation, if I could.’
Pazel looked at him keenly. ‘I was talking about Erithusme,’ he said. ‘Can you say as much about her?’
Ramachni stopped walking.
‘Because I just remembered,’ said Pazel, ‘how you didn’t know who had created the magic wall around the
Ramachni’s deep black eyes fixed on him. ‘Listen to me, lad,’ he said. ‘Since the dawn of woken life on Alifros, in days so ancient even the selk have forgotten them, only a handful of beings have ever been born with utter mastery of magic inscribed in their souls. Erithusme is one. She did not know the power latent in her until the Nilstone awakened it — that is true. But what matters is that she never let the Stone enslave her. What matters is that she was noble enough to be satisfied with greatness and spurn omnipotence. A lesser being would have clung to the Nilstone even as it killed her, built keeps and castles, raised enfortressed islands in which to guard the cursed thing. Erithusme gave it up. She knew its rightful place was not Alifros but the land of the dead, and tried to send it there. What further proof of her intentions do you require?’
Pazel had no answer. He did require more, but how to ask for it? Even Ramachni might have a blind spot, and if he did it was surely for his mistress, the one who trained him as a mage.
‘Some day,’ he said, ‘I’d like to hear the story of your childhood, Ramachni.’
‘I shall be glad to tell you, at the appropriate time,’ said Ramachni. ‘Perhaps if we rejoin the ship, and start the crossing, and lie becalmed for half a year upon the Ruling Sea.’
Pazel smiled, but could not laugh. He was uneasy still. Then he heard footfalls behind him. To his surprise it was Neda, running to catch up with them, and for once unescorted. When she arrived she amazed him further by kissing him on both cheeks, and then looking at him with the plain, frank, critical eye of an older sister, rather than that of a warrior, or a priest.
He studied her, alarmed. There was something in her face that was liberated, or unhinged. ‘Neda,’ he said, ‘what in Pitfire’s happened to you?’
‘I spoke with our mother,’ she said.
Thasha and Neeps saw the wolves before they saw the temple. They were still in the bamboo grove. A pair of the regal animals, coal-black and chalk-white, bounded onto the trail.
‘Welcome, rare birds of the North,’ said the white wolf. ‘Valgrif spoke of you, but we have only seen the little ones — the women so small our cubs try to pounce on them. Come quickly: Lord Arim awaits.’
Thehel Bledd was a large complex with several halls, and many long rectangular pools that mirrored the surrounding mountains, and marble terraces of differing heights that stood open to the sky. Parts of the temple grounds were half lost in vines and creepers and the ubiquitous bamboo; others, swept clean, appeared to enjoy more frequent use. Many wolves padded through the temple, watching them with bright, intelligent eyes.
Rounding the corner of a large hall they came suddenly on Pazel and Neda. ‘Thasha!’ Pazel cried. ‘Come here, listen to Neda! You won’t believe your ears!’
Neda was changed — there was a directness to her look that Thasha had never seen before — and what she told them changed Thasha too, or at least made her weep with joy and longing. She asked Neda repeat it again and again, in her poor Arquali, until Pazel could not stand it and rattled it all off in one breath.
‘Is true, sister,’ said Neda, aglow. ‘Your father being fine.’
‘But — friends?’ said Neeps, looking at them dubiously. ‘Her dad, and your witch-mum?’
‘Why not?’ said Pazel. ‘Mom’s a little crazy-’
‘Very crazy,’ said Neda.
‘-but she’s never been a fool. And the admiral, why, he’s capable of anything.’
‘Is what mother saying, too,’ said Neda.
‘And Maisa,’ said Thasha, ‘hiding out in the blary Fens. It’s a blary miracle. Pazel, we have to tell Hercol.’
‘I am telling,’ said Neda.
‘She means she told him already,’ said Pazel.
Neda looked at Thasha curiously. ‘When I am saying “Empress Maisa” I think Hercol getting cry. But no, no tears.’
‘What did he do?’ said Thasha.
Neda looked unsettled. ‘He being quiet; then praying little bit. Then saying if I not
They might have talked a great deal longer, but the wolves urged them on. A moment later Valgrif himself bounded into view. ‘Good!’ he said. ‘Now you are all accounted for, save Sergeant Lunja. Come, we are about to begin.’
‘Valgrif, you’re hurt,’ said Neeps. And so he was: a white bandage had been tied about his ankle, and his ear was torn.
‘I have killed five servants of the Raven Society,’ said the wolf. ‘Four fell quickly, but the last was a terrible dog, an
The wolves led them through a few more twists and turns, and at last through a stone gate. Beyond, a crumbling stair led down to what Thasha presumed was the temple’s innermost terrace. Here a round stone table awaited them, upon which fruit and bread and decanters of selk wine had been set. The other travellers, except for Lunja, were here already. There were also some half-dozen selk, among them Thaulinin and Lord Arim. Nolcindar was not present; in fact Thasha realised that she had not seen the warrior for many days.
‘Citizens,’ said Lord Arim, ‘you deserve full honours and a splendid farewell. Indeed, I had hoped to show you something of the esteem we hold you in — you who felled Arunis, and recovered the Stone from his keeping. But that cannot be. We must have a war-council, and a brief one at that. One of you is missing, but we dare not wait for her. Come and drink a cup with us, and let us begin.’
‘What’s keeping Lunja?’ Neeps murmured to Thasha. ‘She only meant to go and bathe in the stream. She shouldn’t be this late.’
The selk poured everyone a cup of dark wine — even the wolves drank a little, from a brass bowl on the terrace. Then Thaulinin helped Lord Arim to a chair, and the others sat down as well. Ramachni leaped onto the table and sat between Thasha and Hercol. The ixchel settled beside the mage.
‘You have heard,’ said Lord Arim, ‘that we sent scouts into the world beyond. Now they have spoken: Ularamyth is all but surrounded. Macadra may have learned that the Nilstone came inland with the sorcerer, or she may still be uncertain whether it did so or was taken from Masalym aboard your ship. But either way she has landed forces in the Peninsula on a scale never seen before. No, they will not find the Secret Vale, but there can hardly be a path between here and the coast that her forces are not watching. No great legions of soldiers await us: the land is too extensive for that. Macadra has rather spread her forces thin, like the strands of a spider web — and therein lies the danger. Is it not so, Ambrimar’s son?’
‘It is, Lord,’ said Thaulinin, ‘for while there are many paths to the sea, Macadra too has her riders, and they are swift. And should they spot us on any of those paths, those riders will fly before us, sounding the alarm, and her forces will converge between us and the path we have chosen. And remember that those paths are long. We might kill any number of her servants, but we will not kill unnoticed for sixteen days running, all the way to the Ilidron Coves. If we disturb Macadra’s web but once, we will never reach the sea.’
‘And we do not have sixteen days,’ said Hercol. ‘For after the march there is a great sea journey we must somehow accomplish. And with every hour that passes the Great Ship moves a bit further north.’
‘I told you, swordsman,’ said Cayer Vispek, looking sternly at Hercol. ‘We have lingered too long in this place of soft beds and sweet music! It has lulled us to sleep, or into pastimes unworthy of us. And now the length of the road dismays you? Thaulinin warned us of it when we met him on Sirafstoran Torr.’
‘I do not speak in dismay,’ said Hercol, ‘only in observance of fact. Sixteen days is too long.’
‘If you would blame someone for the length of our stay, Cayer, blame me,’ said Ramachni. ‘I counselled against moving in ignorance, and nothing else could we have done before the return of Lord Arim’s scouts. But it is true that we have run out of time. The
