She sighed and hiccupped. 'Don't leave me again.'
'I won't, as long as we have clan bond, I promise.'
Satisfied, she snuggled close to him, her eyes heavy with fatigue, and the iceberg's rocking lulled her into an exhausted slumber. Before she drifted off, she became aware that the iceberg moved against the breeze. Chanter, she realised, commanded the deep ocean currents to push the berg towards Rashkar, where he evidently had unfinished business. The distant shoreline was a dark smudge on the horizon, coming closer.
When Talsy woke again, the sun sank towards the horizon. The dark smudge of land had swelled, revealing beaches and cliffs, forests and grassland. While they waited, Talsy questioned Chanter about what had happened to him in Rashkar, and he gave her a brief explanation. At the end of it, she wondered how trustworthy King Garsh was, and whether he would fulfil his side of the agreement.
The sun sank and the moon rose as the iceberg drifted closer to land, until it loomed dark before them, waves foaming on the shore. Chanter brought the berg right up to the beach, and Talsy stepped off without getting her feet wet. As soon as they were ashore, the ice melted away without a trace. Stumbling with tiredness and hunger, she followed him up the beach to a secluded grove, where he paused to contemplate her. She knew what he was thinking. Without a tent or bedding, she was ill equipped to spend a night in the open. She needed shelter and food.
'Do you still have money?' he asked.
She groped at her belt and found the bag of coins. 'Yes.'
'Good. I'll take you to Rashkar. You can buy food and rent somewhere to sleep for the night.'
'What about you?'
'I'll be fine.' He smiled. 'Since it was my fault that you lost the equipment for the comforts, I'll do without them for now.'
She nodded, too tired to argue.
The black stallion carried her to the city gates, where she dismounted and walked within to find an inn. She ate a hearty meal of roast beef and boiled vegetables in her room before falling asleep in a soft bed. In her dreams, she sank into the black depths, trying to claw her way towards the glimmer of moonlight high above, and woke yelling Chanter's name.
The following morning, she bought a new bag and supplies before returning to the woods to cook the Mujar a meal, which he consumed with relish. Talsy eyed her handsome companion while they ate.
'Why are we here? If the boy's been released, surely the Wish is fulfilled?'
'No. I agreed to bring him home, so I must wait until he emerges from the city, then see to it that he returns to his father safely.'
Talsy smiled at the Mujar's innocence. 'What if he doesn't? He might decide to stay here, even if King Garsh has released him.'
'Then I'll have to find him. At least in the city he'll be easier to find than in the barracks, where they all look the same.'
'That's assuming the King kept his bargain.'
Chanter nodded.
'What if he hasn't?'
'Then I was a fool to deal with Lowmen.'
Talsy looked away, unable to meet his eyes. She was ashamed of her people, for she doubted that the King had released the boy. Truemen, or maybe Lowmen was a better name for them, hated Mujar to such an extent that doing anything at the request of one was a dire insult. Most likely the hapless boy had been locked in a dungeon somewhere, and the King was scheming, even now, of how to trap the Mujar and throw him in a Pit. She could not allow that to happen. She must protect Chanter from her people.
With studied nonchalance, she enquired, 'What's his name, this boy?'
'Arrin Torquil. Why do you ask?'
She shrugged. 'Just curious.' Putting aside her empty bowl, she said, 'I'm going back into the city. There are still some things I need to buy.'
His eyes narrowed. 'Such as?'
'A new knife, a tent, bedding.'
'Have you enough money?'
'I hope so.' In truth, her supply of silver was low, and she planned to try her hand at pickpocketing. Chanter gazed at her, his brow furrowed. Perhaps he sensed that she was lying, for his expression was doubtful.
'I can help with that,' he said. 'Hold your breath.'
Talsy obeyed, knowing that he was about to invoke a Power. He placed his hands on the ground, and icy cold clamped down, freezing the air into momentary solidity. When it passed, he raised his hands and stared at the ground, his eyes luminous. Talsy wondered what was going to happen.
The result of his power was not as dramatic as she had expected. The ground swelled, then fell open like a blossoming flower. He plucked something from the mound of soil, brushed it off and held it out to her.
'I believe Lowmen like these.'
Talsy took a stone the size of a hen's egg from his hand and stared at it in awe. A deep red glow emanated from the ruby's depths, its muted fire mottled by dirt and flaws. She looked up at him.
'How did you do that?'
He shrugged. 'I called it up.'
'Are there more?'
Chanter smiled. 'Plenty, but one is enough.'
Talsy washed and polished the stone before tucking it into her purse. No wonder Mujar were not interested in earning wealth when they could simply call it up from the earth. Another reason Truemen envied Mujar. While Truemen grubbed in the soil, sweated and toiled to make a paltry living, a Mujar could summon a fortune from the bosom of the earth with a mere thought. Chanter had handed her a king's ransom as if it was just another pebble. She packed away the pots and plates, then stood and shouldered the bag.
'I won't be too long. I'll return here at dusk with more food.'
'I'll be watching.'
With a brisk nod, she headed for the city. Chanter waited until she was far down the road before transforming into a raven with a rush of Ashmar.
In the city, Talsy found a lively market in a suburb close to the gates and bought a thick fur coat and another tent. Like the rest of the city, the market was clean and ordered, with street sweepers to clear away the rubbish and gay awnings shading brightly painted stalls. Smiling, friendly people populated it, and merchants cried their wares and haggled with customers. Her shopping done, she got directions from a trader and headed for the barracks, determined to find out if Arrin Torquil had been released. At a dusty parade ground, a blue-uniformed guard with silver armour and a cream-plumed helmet allowed her in and showed her to an officer's billet. Ugly square buildings with narrow, barred windows and grey slate roofs surrounded the yard, giving it a grim atmosphere, and the officer's room proved to be just as stark and unpleasant.
A tall, hard-eyed man with a well-trimmed beard rose from behind a scarred desk at her entry. His uniform had gold ornamentation on the sleeves and shoulders, a yellow sash was knotted around his waist, and a silver sword hung on his hip. The sentry stated her business, saluted and left. The officer eyed her as he sank back into his chair, put his quill down and spliced his fingers.
'You're looking for Arrin Torquil?'
She nodded.
'His sister, I suppose?' His tone was sarcastic.
'Cousin, actually.'
'I see no family resemblance.'
'Step cousin. We're related by marriage,' she said.
'Ah. And what is your business with him?'
'I wish to visit him, that's all. Is that allowed?'
The officer showed long yellow teeth. 'Of course. Odd, though. Young Arrin has been with us for almost a year, and no family has visited him before.'
'That's because we all live in the Yamshar province, where he was snatched from.'
