‘I am. I owe him my life, but I question his motives.’
‘I think you’re wrong to. If he’s holding anything back, it’s to protect you.’
‘I don’t need protecting.’
‘You did when you were a child.’
‘The man was a paladin, Serrah. Can you imagine how that makes me feel?’
‘Whatever he was, didn’t he make amends by defending you? Or are you saying he’s beyond redemption?’
Caldason brooded on that for a quarter minute, then came back softer with, ‘How are you feeling now?’
‘I’m fine,’ she said, grateful to be reminded that she had someone who cared. ‘Come on, let’s join them.’
‘You go ahead. I’ll just-’
‘Slink away and sulk? Life’s too short, Reeth. I mean literally. Remember the Clepsydra. If it really does indicate some kind of apocalypse, we’ve no time to waste. In getting things sorted, that is.’
He accepted her hand, and a tad reluctantly allowed himself to be led.
As they approached the group, Kutch and Wendah got up to leave.
‘Nothing personal, I hope,’ Serrah remarked.
Kutch looked embarrassed. ‘Oh…no. Of course not. We just-’
‘I understand,’ Serrah smiled. ‘Off you go.’
The boy nodded gratefully, and Wendah briefly relaxed her customary surliness. As they passed, Kutch deftly plucked something from non-existence and gently propelled it Serrah’s way. The glamour was in the likeness of a radiant, single-stemmed flower. Its bloom was a kaleidoscope of stunning, ever-changing colours, and it gave off an exquisitely sensual perfume.
The flower hung in the air, revolving slowly for Serrah’s enchantment. Then Wendah turned her head, puffed her cheeks and blew at the glamour. It fragmented into thousands of golden, cart-wheeling sparks that danced back to nothingness.
Serrah was delighted. Caldason seemed less amused.
Kutch and Wendah headed for the stern, engaged in discussion.
‘The young have such reckless vitality, don’t you think?’ Mahaganis said, as though he’d seen what had happened. ‘Just like you as a youngster, Reeth.’
‘My youth was a bit out of the ordinary, if you recall.’
‘Granted. But I think there are similarities. You and I had something in common, in that we were outcasts; and they have a bond too.’
‘So I heard. Not that anybody’s explained it to me.’
‘It’s unlike you to neglect intelligence gathering,’ the old man rebuked. ‘I understand Kutch is a spotter. Rare as that is, Wendah happens to have a similar talent. It’s good for them both, I think, to find another like themselves.’
‘She can see the magic, or whatever it is spotters do?’
‘In a way. What she does subtly differs from spotting. You might call it accessing.’
‘What’s that?’ Serrah asked.
‘He’s talking about accessing the Source,’ Caldason said. ‘That’s right, isn’t it, Praltor?’
‘Yes. But don’t get too excited. Wendah’s ability in that respect is very limited.’
‘But you can connect with this thing you say is inside you?’
‘Connect’s too strong a word. Any direct link would be more than a human could bear. I’m not sure a legion of first-rate sorcerers could safely plumb its depths.’
‘So what do you draw from it?’ Caldason persisted.
‘I don’t draw anything,’ Mahaganis retorted, anger flaring. ‘It’s the exact opposite. What Wendah allows me is a defence.’
‘Defence?’
‘Some ease of the pain. A shield against this torment in my head. Her talent’s nothing compared to the power of the Source, but it’s kept me sane.’
‘I don’t understand. And shielding you against what?’
‘Where Kutch only sees, Wendah…obstructs. She has the ability to deflect magical energy to some extent, and she’s used that gift to help guard my reason. As to what she’s guarding me from; have you any idea of the Founders’ malevolence? What am I saying? You of all people should appreciate that.’
‘There you go again,’ Caldason grumbled, ‘implying something without being specific.’
‘Let’s just say we’re both labouring under our own singular curses.’
‘No, let’s not say that. How about the truth instead?’
‘There are some things you’re not prepared to hear just yet.’
‘I’m not a child anymore, Praltor. You don’t have to look out for me or worry about my feelings.’
The old man said nothing.
‘Did whatever you’re hinting at have anything to do with the way we parted?’ Caldason pressed. ‘Because I’ve no memory of how we went our separate ways.’
‘As I said, your recollection’s bound to be patchy.’
‘Why?’
‘It was a difficult time. There were battles, skirmishes-’
‘What happened to split us?’
‘We got to the point where there was little more I could do to help you.’
‘You’re lying.’
‘Reeth!’ Serrah exclaimed. ‘Show some respect.’
‘No,’ Mahaganis told her, ‘he’s right. The fact is, Reeth, that I…left you.’
‘You did what?’ she said.
‘He could look after himself by then, believe me. And there were circumstances.’
‘What kind of circumstances?’ Caldason demanded, his voice dropping and edged with menace.
‘I’d come to fear you,’ the old man confessed.
‘You were afraid of me?’ The Qalochian was genuinely taken aback. ‘Why?’
‘For what you are. And for what you’re capable of.’
‘More riddles. Just once, could you have enough respect for me to explain what you mean?’
‘Reeth, I…’
‘Please.’
Mahaganis sighed. ‘Very well. But you must try to understand what I’m going to say, and to keep a grip on yourself.’
‘Tell me.’
‘It’s your ancestry that worries me.’
‘My being a Qalochian, you mean?’
‘No.’
‘Well…what, then?’
‘What frightens me, Reeth, is your Founder blood.’
26
The pit was a simmering cauldron. In its depths a hoary, foaming stew effervesced.
‘It’s getting worse, brother.’
Felderth Jacinth nodded. ‘Further justification for the action we’re taking, if such were needed.’
‘Even action as unprecedented as this?’
‘In the present situation, Rhylan, any step is justified.’
‘There are many on the council who have doubts about that.’
‘Not a majority, I think. And the dissenters have no real alternative to offer.’
They resumed staring at the gummy, silverish liquid churning at the pit’s bottom.
