Vengeance

‘She must have been very beautiful.’ Rannilt twined her arms around Tali, sighing and snuggling.

‘Yes, she was,’ Tali said absently.

‘Why was that big man so nasty? How could anyone not like you?’

Tali gave her a hug. Why did Rix hold the Pale in such contempt? Did he blame them for not escaping from their masters? It was like a sick joke, save that Rix believed every word he had said. The woman in the cellar had called Iusia Pale scum, and if everyone in Hightspall thought that way, Tali and Rannilt would be in more danger in their homeland than they had been in Cython. What could she do? How could she go on when everything she believed in was regarded as a lie?

Someone had been lied to, but she did not think it had been the Pale. They had definitely been taken to Cython a thousand years ago as child hostages, for she had often heard the Cythonians laugh about it. And she did not think the Pale had made up the story about being noble. Therefore, Hightspall’s view of the Pale was wrong — wickedly so.

‘Your slave’s mark is better than mine,’ said Rannilt.

‘Nonsense, child,’ said Tali.

It was true, though. Rannilt’s mark was just a squiggle burnt into her shoulder, while Tali’s was an elegant pattern of lines and swirls, identical to her family seal and as beautiful as it was old.

She ran a finger around it. To the Cythonians, the slave mark had been a sign of eternal bondage. To Rix it was the mark of treachery and collaboration — it raised feelings so powerful that he had thrown up at the sight of it. But to her it would always be the symbol of House vi Torgrist, one of the oldest of the noble houses, and of vi Torgrist’s strength, longevity and steadfastness. It was also a symbol of hope — that she could succeed despite the opposition of both her enemies and her own people.

Tali pressed the seal against her arm, leaving a white impression there. It made her feel better so she made a series of marks down her arm. She was the last of her line and the heir to House vi Torgrist, therefore, her house wasn’t extinct. It was up to her to raise it again. After she had gained justice for Mama, Grandmama, Great-Grandmama and Great-Great-Grandmama, that’s what she was going to do.

Despite Rix’s threat, and the foul things he had said about her, she had to find a way to get the truth out of him. And she had better hurry; night was bound to bring the enemy.

Her thoughts turned to Tobry, who had magery in his pocket and might be able to help her uncover her own. Tobry had been kind to her, and clearly he did not despise the Pale — another positive. Her world was beginning to tilt back.

Tali tried to rise but could not move. ‘Help me up, Rannilt. My muscles have locked.’

As the girl heaved her to her feet, every bone and sinew protested. Tali hobbled around the pool like old Mimoy until her muscles came back to life.

‘Where are we goin’?’ said Rannilt.

‘After Rix and Tobry.’

‘But he was so mean to you.’

‘Not as mean as the enemy will be.’

‘If he does it again, he’ll be really sorry.’

The girl’s fierce loyalty warmed Tali more than she could have imagined. A third positive. ‘Yes, we’ll fix him.’

She drank from the pool, bathed her hot face and told herself that the open spaces could not harm her. It was a silly, irrational phobia and she was going to overcome it. She wove grass into a band and tied the hat brim down to her eyebrows. Her legs and back ached down to the bones, but pain was a slave’s lot and she had learned to endure it.

‘I’m a really hard worker,’ said Rannilt. She was plodding along, exhausted and trying to hide it. They had been following Rix’s tracks for hours.

There was no sign of anyone in the scorched lands. It was late afternoon now, at most an hour of daylight left. Tali walked faster. The Seethings was no place to navigate after dark.

Her head was aching again. She kept seeing the swirling lights and coloured patterns, and twice more she heard that distant note in her inner ear, pealing like an unanswered question. She had first heard it as the sunstone imploded and had associated it with freedom and liberation. Now it sounded angry.

‘I can wash clothes and carry water,’ said Rannilt. ‘And when I clean fish, I don’t leave a speck of meat on the bones.’

The girl had been nattering about her accomplishments for ages. ‘I’m sure you’re really good.’

‘I know how to massage achin’ muscles,’ Rannilt said shrilly. ‘I’m really quiet, too. You hardly know I’m there.’

A pointed suggestion was on the tip of Tali’s tongue when she realised what was behind it. She stopped abruptly.

‘Is somethin’ the matter?’ Rannilt cried, and began to bite a bloody knuckle.

‘Rannilt, I can’t be your mother. But I’m not going to turn you away either.’

‘You’re not?’ cried the girl, throwing her arms around Tali and bursting into tears.

‘Of course not. We’re going to stay together. Don’t worry, I’ll look after you.’

‘And I’m goin’ to look after you.’

Rannilt looked up, eyes shining and nostrils running rivers. She burrowed her face into Tali’s chest, inadvertently wiping her nose on the silk gown, then went skipping off.

Tali looked down at the claggy smears and sighed. How was she supposed to look after the child when she didn’t know how to look after herself? She looked up and the sky overturned. She wrenched on the hat brim.

‘I wish the sun would go down.’ Sunset had better take the phobia with it.

‘I don’t.’ Rannilt shuddered.

‘Why not?’

‘Things live in the dark. Things come out of the dark.’

‘Nonsense, child. That’s just an irrational — ’ Tali broke off. They weren’t so different — they just feared different things. ‘What sort of things?’

‘I can feel somethin’ bad. Really bad, waitin’ for the dark.’

It didn’t help Tali’s own frame of mind. ‘I’m sure we’ll find Tobry and Rix before then.’

Several weary minutes passed. ‘Why do you keep doin’ that?’ said Rannilt.

‘What?’

‘Tracin’ your slave mark.’

Tali had not realised that she was doing it. ‘When I’ve got a problem, sometimes it seems to help …’ Should she tell Rannilt? It would be wrong to shield her. ‘I keep hearing an angry note in my head and I’m worried the enemy are using it to track me. I don’t think they’re far behind.’

She glanced over her shoulder. If the Cythonians were closing in, they were concealed by the mirages that shimmered and danced in every direction.

‘Why don’t you block it?’ said Rannilt. ‘That’s how I hide from the mean girls.’

‘How?’

‘I make their eyesight go foggy so they can’t see me.’

‘And that works?’

‘Sometimes. But it’d be different for you.’ Rannilt took Tali’s arm, staring at the slave mark, then traced the central part with a dirty finger. ‘Why don’t you close it?’

‘Close what?’ Tali said irritably, for her feet and back and head hurt and she was very afraid.

‘This, in the centre.’ Rannilt was looking anxious again. ‘See this bit here, it’s like an open shell, and if you close it the note can’t get out. Then they won’t be able to find you …’ She bit her lip.

Tali realised that she was frowning. It sounded like nonsense. She inspected the central part of her slave mark and supposed that the pair of touching semicircles there did resemble a shell open at its hinge.

‘How am I supposed to close it?’ She felt obtuse.

‘In yer mind. It helps if you close yer eyes.’

Tali did so and tried to visualise her slave mark. Though she could have drawn it from memory, creating a visible image in her inner eye proved more difficult than she had imagined. Ah, there it was.

As she focused on the shell, she heard the angry note again. ‘Can you see anyone coming, Rannilt?’