'Excuse me,' Rialus said, 'but what was that name you used? Ushebra-'
'Ushen Brae,' Mulat corrected. 'That is the name of our land.'
'Oh, I've not heard that before.'
Mulat had a handsome face for a Numrek, cut of features better proportioned for human eyes to appreciate. Still, the slightest displeasure made his face a creviced mask that was hard not to cringe from. 'That doesn't mean it's not so. You call our lands the Other Lands, but why should we do so? They are not other to us. This place here is other. Now that we are to see our home again, we will again call it by its proper name.'
'Should I-'
'Do what you wish,' Calrach said. 'It makes no difference. Sires, there are two things more about our going on this ocean voyage. One, I will bring my son. Don't protest. It's no matter of yours. But I'll take him to see Ushen Brae. Two, you must bind us.'
Sire Neen's head dipped to one side, birdlike, and straightened again.
That, Rialus thought, was the first genuine show of surprise he had seen yet on a leagueman. He went to set his glass down, fumbling when it wobbled and then reconsidering. He took another sip instead.
'Bind you?'
Instead of answering, Calrach shifted, uneasy suddenly. He thrust his chin at his half brother, and it was Mulat who answered. 'We abhor the water. In sight of land, as here in the Inner Sea, it's not bad. But the Gray Slopes… these we don't care for.'
The sires responded warmly enough. They understood this well. The Auldek did not care for the sea either. They had, in fact, never once seen one of them aboard a ship, a fact that greatly benefited the Lothan Aklun. 'This is why you came into the Known World over the Ice Fields. Hardly an easy route.'
'It was a feat to make us immortal,' Calrach said with a bravado that, even for him, felt a bit forced. 'No other has ever accomplished it. We are not so different from gods, yes?'
Sire Neen nodded but did not answer. Instead, he looped back. 'Amazing that you fear the sea so much, and yet-'
'Fear! Fear?' Calrach spat, this time without aiming at all. 'I know no fear, but the water will not support us!'
'So you cannot swim? Surely, you could learn. Even the smallest child can-'
For a moment Rialus was sure Calrach was going to smash the league-man across his too-thin jaw. Indeed, the Numrek half rose from his seat. He grasped Neen's chair at the armrests and pushed his face close, the muscles in his neck quivering, his jaw tight. 'We have heavy bones!'
Sire Neen, straight-faced and nonplussed, asked, 'Heavy bones? That's a strange ailment.'
'I am iron inside,' Calrach said. 'Drop me in the ocean, and I will sink to the bottom like an anchor. I would not like that. I would have to walk along the bottom to return to land. I could do it, but the very thought of it makes me angry.'
Despite the fact that Rialus did imagine Numrek bones to be nearly as hard and heavy as iron, he had to duck his head and clear his throat to keep his amusement from curling his lips. Angry, indeed! Angry like a child lost in the woods. He had not thought the Numrek so adept at manipulating language.
'So you say we must bind you?' Sire Dagon said. 'With chains, you mean?'
Calrach loosened his grip and returned to his seat. 'Yes, if you wish to live. I cannot promise we'd not go into a rage out of sight of land. You wouldn't want that.'
For a moment, as Sire Dagon spoke and Calrach detailed the strength of the bonds that would be needed to contain his great power, Rialus watched the other leagueman. Sire Neen's bland visage did not quite hide the amused interest with which he listened. His eyes were wide and attentive, his cheeks flushed. This might have been from staring into Calrach's shouting face, but he looked pleased. His mouth hung open just slightly, and the tip of his tongue slipped across the round little nubs that were his teeth.
A moment later, one of the navigators began to brief him on preparations being made for the prince, but Rialus only half listened. And then Rialus understood something that had tugged at the edge of his understanding since he arrived at the meeting. He knew, of course, that not even a single word spoken by a leagueman could be taken as truth. He had sensed in every question and glance and pleasantry that the two men were so entangled in deceptions that their spoken words had only the semblance of truth to them. But all of this was standard. Anybody with a working knowledge of the league knew these things. What Rialus saw, however, was there on the tip of Sire Neen's pink tongue as it slid across his teeth. Rialus could not have explained exactly how he knew it, but an uncanny ability to recognize deceit was his chief skill. Who can explain the gifts the Giver bestows on him?
Neen, Rialus realized, was hiding something, plotting something all his own. Rialus turned away from him before Neen noticed him watching, but he kept the image locked in his mind, studying it.
CHAPTER SIX
Do you ever wonder what the world would be like if Aliver had lived?' Melio asked.
'Of course,' Mena said. 'You know we all do.'
'Yeah,' Melio agreed. 'We all do.'
He pulled her closer with the arm he already had wrapped around her shoulders. The two of them lay together in the predawn, touching along the length of their naked bodies. They had just made love, the sort of silent, spontaneous coupling they were often driven to in the quiet hours before facing danger once again. Though they had said nothing since wishing each other a good rest the evening before, Melio's question seemed the continuation of an ongoing conversation.
He continued, 'What if he really had abolished the quota trade? What if he had really freed all the races to govern themselves? Can you imagine that? I know it would be a grand confusion in some ways, but it might have been beautiful. Corinn has betrayed it all, though. Your sister, the Fanged Rose. She rather scares me, Mena. You know that?'
'You don't understand her.'
'You do?'
Mena shrugged. 'I haven't always. And… no, I don't completely. But I do know that she tries. She tries harder than you know to do what's right. It may not look like what Aliver would have done, but she is no less devoted to us, to the empire.'
'Forgive me, Mena, but she seems mostly devoted to keeping an iron grip on power.'
Staying silent for a time, Mena weighed whether she should answer. Talking about her sister-no matter whether she was being critical or speaking praise-always felt like a betrayal of sorts. Certainly, Corinn herself would have thought of it that way. But Melio owned part of her heart as well. He gave her so much and deserved to know how she felt.
'I need you to understand something about her,' Mena said. She started slowly, seeking out the right words, testing them first to make sure she was speaking truly. 'Corinn is strong. You know that. But she is also very scared.'
'The Fanged Rose scared?' Melio laughed. 'That I don't believe. I've seen her look warriors in the face as if she were about to bite off their noses.'
Mena stayed him with a hand. 'I said she was strong as well, but you have to know that strength… well, it springs from different sources. It has different roots in different people. In Corinn, it's fear.'
'Fear of what?'
'Of being alone. Of being unloved. Of dying. No, don't laugh. I knew some of this about her even as a girl. When our mother died, Corinn felt like part of her died. Everyone had always said she was our mother reborn. Her twin. She was the beautiful one.' Melio began to make some jibe, but she cut him off. 'No, listen to me. When our mother died, Corinn felt that she lost part of herself. And then… well, I don't know how I know this, but I always felt that she believed Father should live for her then. That some of the love he held for Aleera should be transferred to her, just to her. I don't know that I can blame her for that. I was too young to even remember our mother. The loss was different for her. But then Father died, too. She took it as a betrayal. And then there was Igguldan, her
