There was nothing like sincerity in the question, but Aliver answered it as if there had been. The entrapped children had begun to name where they were born. They seemed to fear he did not believe them. They threw memories at him, emotions, images of what home was to them. Under the bombardment, Aliver could barely keep track of his interaction with Devoth. It took all his concentration to do so.
“We will do four things for you,” he said. “First, we will give you peace without fear of retribution. Our past will be our past. Though we will not forget your crimes, we will not hold them hard in our hearts.” The children screamed for him not to forget their crimes. They were not past, they said. They were entrapped now!
“Very kind of you.”
“Yes. Second, we will allow you to leave without interference. Nobody will hunt your backs. I will not haunt you anymore. Third, we will put into your hands the Numrek children.”
“Numrek children?”
“Yes, those who still live. My sister captured them but did not kill them. There are not many, but they could be the start of your future, of the generations to come. We will give you that gift.”
“Is that it?”
“There is a fourth thing.”
“Yes? Is it the best thing?”
“It may be.”
“Tell it, then.”
“I will, but not tonight. I will tell it to you in person, on the field south of here when our forces meet. Talk to me then, Devoth. You and all the other Auldek. Come to me in front of your army, with all your great host behind you. Then I will tell the fourth thing. But now, go back to your slumber. Wake in the morning and remember what I said. Go, sleep, Devoth.”
For a second it seemed the Auldek would fight the order, that he had something else to say, but the command was strong. His spirit slid back toward the body beneath the blankets. Aliver saw the trapped souls being pulled back with him. He heard them, shouting without sound, pleading with him. The sight of their anguished faces was heartbreaking, but he waited until the final moment to do what he had planned. He felt there was only one moment that he could achieve what he wanted to.
Just as Devoth’s spirit began to sink back into the skin of his body, Aliver rushed forward. He swept through the Auldek with his arms outstretched, filled with love and shame and grief and hope, asking forgiveness for those who came before him. He grabbed for the children’s’ souls.
And he pulled them all free.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
A cave on an outcropping of rock at the very edge of the Outer Isles, out beyond Thrain and Palishdock. The dark of a cloud-heavy night. The air and sea in furious struggle. Not a place many would choose to rest, and yet that was what Corinn and Hanish knew they had to do. Atop Po, they had ranged over hundreds of miles, gathering sorcerers all along the way. They had pushed Po to great speed over the sea, leaving the Santoth far behind, but not so far that they would not catch up with them soon. Though he showed not the slightest indication of needing it, Po had earned a rest, such as it was. Having furled his wings, the dragon perched sentinel above them, still as the wet stone and just as black. Corinn hoped that his wounds were healing. She thought so. The turmoil in his mind had grown calm. Damaged, yes, but resolved.
She did her best to always keep a part of her mind speaking to him, and to the other dragons. They were each of them faithful to her, but she could feel their desire for freedom. When she was gone, no other would be able to keep them tamed.
He will warn us, Corinn said, if they come faster than we expect .
Hanish stood at the mouth of the cave, gazing out into the night as if he were keeping his own watch. “I know he will,” he responded. “I’m not doubting him. Just looking is all. Just looking.”
The leaning rock walls around them provided the only shelter from the heaving of waves and the wind. A small fire cast their only light. Corinn fed it with things her servants had packed into her saddlebags: a tent and its bamboo poles; thick, hard crackers that burned as well as wood and that she could not eat anyway; rolls of parchment she would never now need; the leather bags themselves. My servants: what would they think to see me now? Though she took warmth from the fire, she knew she could have sat in the damp chill and not been affected by it. Just as she had gone days now with no food or drink. She was as empty as she had ever been, and yet she went on, feeding on the goal she had set herself.
To Hanish, she sent the thought, We have them all behind us.
“You’re sure of it?”
Yes. I can’t tell you how many they are. Their number never sets in my mind, but I can feel that they’re all together. They have a different energy. It hums at the same tune now, with only one purpose .
“Catching us?”
Exactly.
“We have the scoundrels just where we want them, then,” Hanish said, turning back toward Corinn and the fire. “Ha-ha! Take that!” He swiped at the air with an exaggerated flourish that made Corinn smile. Or that made her know she would have smiled, had it been possible. He came away from the cave mouth and settled himself beside the fire. He rubbed his hands together and held them, palm out, toward the flames.
Old habits, Corinn thought to herself, are hard to break.
Hanish said, “I guess that’s it, then. We have a few hours. Until dawn, perhaps. Then it’s nothing but the Gray Slopes for us. Have you any way of calling this worm of yours?”
I won’t need to. It can hear the song even more clearly than the Santoth. It has been telling me as much for years. I just didn’t listen. I suspect it already knows we’re coming.
“Ah. So the worm is expecting us,” Hanish said. “I guess it’s not the first time either of us has had dealings with worms.”
No, but this one I like better than senators and leaguemen. It’s not like anything else. It doesn’t really talk to me. That’s not quite right. It’s more like the way I communicate with Po. It thinks to me. It’s very old, Hanish. I think it’s something the Giver made when the world was still new, before Elenet, before any of the creatures of the land. It has a quiet mind. It’s gentle, except that it knows the Giver’s tongue is not for us to speak. That’s one thing that matters to it.
“And what, exactly, happens when we find this creature? You’ve not filled me in on the specifics yet.”
I don’t know, Corinn said. This was not entirely the truth. She did know. The worm itself had shown her what was to happen in images that she had once thought of as nightmares. Now, those same images were the exact fate she sought. They were not, however, things she could say. Not even to Hanish. I think we just have to find it, she said. The rest will come with that.
“All right, love,” Hanish said, “the rest will come with that. You should sleep now if you can. Even just a little. This next flight will be long. Come.”
He indicated that she could rest her head on his lap. She did so, and, without prompting, he began to talk. Corinn lay, watching the play of the firelight on the cave wall, marveling that even now-with everything that had happened and was happening-she was still learning more about how to love this man. How was it possible that she could rest her head on a ghost’s lap and learn of things he had never told her while he lived? How could she feel the warmth of him, the texture of his tunic against her cheek, the weight of his hand where it rested on her shoulder? She tried to listen to his tales, but after a while what she truly did was listen to the sound of his voice. How she liked his voice. It managed to be truthful but at the same denied that life was anything less than a grand amusement. Corinn breathed him in, wishing she had some of his equanimity herself, wondering if this was how she gained it, by having him complete her.
Later, after Hanish had fallen silent, thinking her asleep, Corinn remembered another dream. It had nothing to do with the worm. She had only had it once, on the morning that she had worked three acts of magic, including bringing Aliver back from the dead. In the dream, she had been riding in a carriage down from Calfa Ven. When Aaden became unwell, she stepped out and walked the path to avoid smelling his stink. Aliver and then Hanish had
