“Almovaar will decide how strong she grows,” he said reprovingly. “And how swiftly.”
With that, the Adepts – with the exception of Ulrithana – departed the part of the House of Believers in which they had held their meeting. As soon as the others were gone, the Shadimish woman took the Seer’s hand, and he led her to the private quarters that had previously belonged to Gebrem.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Tiyana’s Homecoming
1
A strong sea-wind whipped through Tiyana’s braids as she stood near the prow of the Amdwa. Her silver hair-ornaments clashed to create a discordant melody. Her blue chamma alternately billowed and clung to her body, depending on the vagaries of the breeze. Salt-tinged spray moistened her face and arms as she focused her gaze on the east, the way home. Khambawe as not yet visible across the sun-dappled waves, but Tiyana knew the Matile fleet would arrive home in a matter of hours.
To the north, she could see the vast, gray band of mist that marked the beginning of the Sea of Storms. As she looked at it, Tiyana remembered First Calling. And she remembered what the mist had brought to the Matile people that day.
She remembered Nama-kwah as well, and the final warning the Goddess had given her before ending the tenuous contact between them.
Danger ...
Tiyana laughed: a bittersweet sound carried away by the wind. At First Calling, she had believed the Goddess was warning her about the coming of the Fidi. Now she was certain that the warning had been about the Uloans. Had the Fidi and Almovaar not been present, the insane islanders would have demolished Khambawe.
She wondered if Nama-kwah was still watching her from somewhere in her Realm. And she decided that possibility no longer mattered to her. None of the Jagasti mattered anymore.
What mattered most to Tiyana now was her return home. Home to her father, whose pride in her accomplishments in the Uloan Islands meant more to her than all the other words of praise that showered upon her on the Amdwa and in the Oneness. Home to Keshu, with whom she shared a private togetherness even when they were far apart, as they were now. Home to the celebration the Believers were planning, the type of festivities usually reserved for a Dejezmek returning victorious from battle.
Someone was approaching her from behind. Tiyana knew this, even though the wind and the tinkle of the ornaments in her hair muffled the sound. And, without needing to turn around, she knew who was coming.
The magical power – she no longer thought of it as ashuma – that her delvings into Almovaad sorcery had awakened with in her had become as much a part of her as her blood and bones. Her awareness of her surroundings extended beyond her senses. She saw her, heard more ... knew more.
Thus, when she did turn, she was not surprised to see Lyann, second-in-command to Captain Pel Muldure, coming toward her.
Lyann stopped at a respectful distance from Tiyana and inclined her head in greeting. Tiyana returned the gesture. She did not know the Fidi woman well, but she appreciated the fierce fighting Lyann and the other crew members of the lost White Gull had done in the battle to save Khambawe.
Lyann had allowed her yellow hair to grow, but not much. Now she had two strings of beads braided into her locks, one on each side of her sun-darkened face. But she continued to wear Fiadol seaman’s garb of shirt and breeches, sewn to her specifications by Matile garment-makers. In Khambawe, some of the younger Matile affected similar garb.
“The sailing is smooth,” Tiyana said.
Lyann nodded acknowledgement of the compliment.
“But you know,” the Fidi woman said, “in all my years at sea, I have never been on a voyage as strange as this one.”
Lyann’s Matile was heavily accented, but Tiyana understood her.
“Not even the one through the Sea of Storms?” she asked.
“That was dangerous,” Lyann allowed. “But this time, the purpose was not to risk lives ...or to take them. It was to save lives ... the lives of your enemies.”
Tiyana smiled.
“Yes. That is different. But that is what Almovaar teaches us ... to be merciful to all, even enemies who are no longer a threat.”
She regarded the Fidi woman for a moment.
“Why are you not a Believer?” she asked abruptly.
Lyann looked away. Then she returned Tiyana’s steady gaze.
“We have our own ways, Muldure and I,” she said. “The sea is our mother, our father ... and our god. For all that Almovaar can do, we still trust to the sea.”
Tiyana nodded.
“The nature of the voyage is not what you wish to speak to me about, is it?” she asked.
“No, it’s not,” Lyann replied. “It’s about Muldure.”
Tiyana waited for her to continue.
“He doesn’t like to stay in one place for a long time. Neither do I. And neither does the crew ... at least the ones who haven’t become Believers, and are content to stay here. The problem is, we don’t have a ship anymore.”
“You wish to return to your own land?” Tiyana asked.
“We can’t do that,” Lyann replied.
She gestured toward the roiling gray band that marked the boundary of the Sea of Storms.
“We would need the Seer’s power to get us through that again. And he is not going back.”
“What would you like to do, then?” Tiyana asked. “And how could I help you?”
“We have heard tales of how your ancestors explored the rest of this continent, as well as others, in days gone by,” Lyann said. “But that was long in the past. Your people have been gone from the rest of your land for so long, it is as though your world is new again. If you Matile would want to go once again to these other places, Muldure and I would like to be the ones to sail there for you.”
Tiyana nodded thoughtfully.
“That is a worthy idea,” she said. “Only the Emperor could make the final decision on it, though. I will try to persuade him for you.”
Lyann nodded.
“Thank you,” she
