the pain. Auum slid down beside her. He picked up her head in his hands, which were covered in the blood of her attackers, and cradled it in his lap.
‘It’s all right, Elyss,’ he said. ‘You’re going to be all right.’
‘Oh, Auum,’ she said, her voice choked and desperate. ‘I’m dying.’
‘Ulysan! Ulysan!’ roared Auum. ‘No, you’re not. Keep calm. We’ll get you to a healer. We can fix you.’
‘Liar,’ she said, crying through the blood in her throat. ‘Just don’t leave me.’
‘I’ll never leave you,’ said Auum. ‘I love you. I love our child.’
Elyss sighed and closed her eyes. Auum swallowed hard. He prayed to Yniss to deliver her back to him. He prayed to Shorth to keep her from his embrace. She opened her eyes again.
‘I will run with you again when the ancients call you, my love, my Auum,’ said Elyss. ‘Dream of our child. Never forget us.’
‘Don’t give up,’ said Auum, but his voice was clogged with the sick certainty of her fate. ‘Please, don’t leave me here alone.’
Elyss’ chest rose and then slumped. Blood came from her mouth and her chest, where the arrows must have punctured both her lungs. She stared at him and reached up a bloody hand to cup his cheek.
‘A TaiGethen is never alone,’ she whispered.
Her hand dropped away. A smile touched her face and her eyes closed. She sighed once more and her body relaxed. Her chest did not rise again. Auum leaned over her, the sobs shuddering through his body and the sounds of his anguish ripping from his throat however he tried to contain them.
It was all gone. The joy that had been so bright was now dark with the night. The future which had seemed so wonderful was nothing but bleached bones. The grief thundered in his head. The tears splashed on her perfect face every time he opened his eyes but hers did not flicker in response.
‘Breathe,’ he whispered. ‘Please. Breathe.’
Auum recognised the touch of the hand on his shoulder. He rose swiftly and buried his face in Ulysan’s chest, hugging the big Tai- Gethen hard. Ulysan’s hands were on the back of his head and around his back. Auum heard him curse and then call the TaiGethen to muster.
Auum breathed although his lungs fought him all the way. He broke their embrace and looked up at Ulysan, seeing the fury in his face and the wobble in his chin. Ulysan glanced about the marketplace and took in the scene under the flagpole.
‘What happened?’ he asked.
‘They killed her,’ said Auum. ‘They shot her while she stood unarmed at my side.’
Footsteps were growing in volume with the approach of the TaiGethen.
‘How-’
‘All this came afterwards,’ said Auum. ‘They didn’t give her a chance, so I did not give them one either.’
Auum knew what Ulysan was thinking. That a single TaiGethen could not bring down so many archers. Not spread out as they were, not unscathed. Auum didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t look at Elyss again. Not yet. Others had knelt to tend to her; to remove the arrows and clean her face and hands to make her ready.
‘Beethans,’ muttered Faleen.
Auum looked round. The TaiGethen were waiting for his order. But there was no more rage within him, no desire for revenge. He had already exacted that and he wondered how he had managed it. He felt a chill calm descend on him and it cleared his mind.
‘No more killing,’ said Auum. ‘For now it is over. Tonight you need rest. We have so much to do in the days to come. Tomorrow, Pelyn and the Al-Arynaar will drive the Beethan and Tuali gangs into the forest, where they can do no more harm. And you will tear their lairs apart to find the metal we need to defend this city.
‘To fail would be to shatter Elyss’ dreams for our freedom, and I will not suffer that.’
‘But first we will all accompany you and Elyss to the Hallows,’ said Faleen. ‘We are one TaiGethen.’
Auum shook his head. ‘She was my light and my love. She is my burden alone as is our child sleeping within her.’
The sound of an addict crying for help echoed in the distance. The roar of furnaces and the glow of flames further broke the night. Yet the silence among the TaiGethen was abiding and, in it, Auum found his strength. He moved to Elyss and knelt by her, nodding his thanks to those who had cleaned her, and laid her arms across her stomach. He smiled; her hands were supporting their baby. So it would be as she travelled into Shorth’s embrace.
Auum put one arm under her shoulders, the other under her knees and picked her up. Elyss’ head fell back and her hair brushed the back of his hand. About him, the TaiGethen had knelt in prayer, each with one hand to the ground and the other open to the sky. It was a prayer of deliverance.
Auum turned a slow circle, showing Elyss to her brothers and sisters. Her family.
‘You will never be alone,’ he said.
He walked through the city and out into the forest.
Chapter 30
Without faith the outstretched hand seeks only to grasp at succour, never to offer it.
Auum, Arch of the TaiGethen
An hour after dawn, the whole city knew what had happened in the marketplace. Pelyn had awoken with her guts aching and her head screaming for edulis. Her bed sheets had been soaked with sweat and the stink of urine told that her bladder had failed her again as she slept.
She’d sat upright with the first light of dawn washing into her room on a wave of fresh, cool and damp air. Tulan had been there, standing by the window. He’d said nothing, just poured water into her washing bowl, indicated her clothes and her cloak and withdrawn.
Now she walked at the head of the Al-Arynaar, such as they were. They numbered thirty-seven including her. She felt sick and weak. Her leather armour and cloak were heavy, especially for her weakened body, and the sword in the scabbard at her waist had felt alien in her hand. She was not fit to be with them, let alone to lead them.
The Al-Arynaar were moving swiftly towards the Beethan ghetto. The eyes of many frightened Katurans watched them go. Away from the industry and energy palpable in the rings of the city there remained the taint of suspicion and, for Pelyn herself, a good deal of deserved contempt.
She instructed her people to offer no reaction to the taunts she would inevitably attract. With her head held high, Pelyn marched into the tight streets of the Beethan warren. The TaiGethen had reported little movement here in the small hours of the night and there was no doubt that fear of reprisals from the elven elite kept most behind their shuttered windows.
‘Tuali whore!’
The shutter slammed before Pelyn could turn to look. Other shouts followed.
‘Nectar hag!’
‘Does the day hurt your eyes, slack face?’
‘Keep marching,’ said Pelyn. ‘Let’s face it. It’s what I am.’
‘What you were,’ corrected Tulan.
‘That is yet to be proved.’ Pelyn took a deep breath. ‘The craving will not die.’
Indeed it was particularly intense right now. She knew why. Edulis was manufactured here. So much nectar just within her grasp, so much of it stored behind the closed doors they walked past. She could smell it on the air, and the tip of her tongue burned with the remembered taste of it. Saliva flooded her mouth, her head beat painfully and her hands began to shake. Yet she kept walking.
The Al-Arynaar moved into the centre of the ghetto. Pelyn’s vision had tunnelled and she was aware that she was beginning to gasp. Ephram cleared his throat.
‘Orders, my Arch,’ he whispered.
‘Thank you,’ said Pelyn. She called the halt. ‘Put up the signs. Knock on each door. Force is sanctioned if there is any resistance. Archers to the rooftops. I want a clear path. No surprises. Not like last night.’
Pelyn had been taken aback by the TaiGethen’s restraint. Though Auum had killed eight Beethans, including
