stretched up into points several inches higher than the norm, curving and twisting so that at their peaks they protruded to the side.
Perhaps it was the sight of them-or maybe it was the unnerving sensation of having firm ground under her feet again, or because she had eaten so little and then vomited and was weakened by it-for whichever or all of these reasons, Mor fainted.
She awoke a moment later, with the big-eared woman huddled over her, studying her. In the years to come Mor often thought of her face looking down, the first time she made eye contact with a Lothan Aklun. The woman grinned. 'I hear your thoughts,' she said, in a language that was not Candovian. It was like Acacian, which Mor understood a little, but different as well. Though she heard the strange words of the language, she also understood their meaning. The Lothan Aklun cocked her head and tugged on one of her elongated ears with a thin finger. 'We do this for beauty, and to hear better.' It was an almost comforting memory, the woman's voice kind, her words close to whispers. It was the first thing a Lothan Aklun had ever said to her, and it was the last thing she would ever mistakenly believe was kind about them.
Then came another boat ride once the leaguemen had departed, a small vessel but so fast skimming the waves that Mor felt like screaming. It cut between islands, swaying back and forth so that within a few minutes the view behind them became a maze of land and water. They passed for some time along the coastline of one large island, thickly treed and wild looking. Eventually, the boat docked at a small pier near an outcropping of rock. The woman led them out and up a stone staircase cut into the cliff. Ravi still clenched Mor's hand, and, when the woman stopped before a darkened doorway and motioned for them to enter, they stepped inside together, side by side. That was how she entered the chamber that she would remember every day for the rest of her life. That's how she walked on her own two feet into the soul catcher's mouth.
Skylene appeared in the doorway. She stood there a moment, frowning at Mor, her eyes soft even as her thin lips were pursed in judgment. Beneath her pale, sky-blue face were features born of the Eilavan Woodlands of the Known World. It was unlikely that any living in that place would recognize her as their kin, not behind that unnatural hue, not behind a nose stretched by an implant that made it beaklike, not beneath the jagged plumage jutting up like a crown anchored in her hairline. She may have been Mainland born, but now she was marked as a slave of the Kern, the clan that called the southern delta their ancestral homeland and took the blue crane as their totem divinity.
More beautiful than any crane, Mor thought, and then hated the fact that she had thought that once again, just as on so many occasions before. How frustrating that the tortures the Auldek put them through were also changes they grew to love. She looked away from her.
Skylene closed the space between them. She slid her arms around Mor's neck. She pressed her small- breasted body against her lover's back. 'You shouldn't have hit him like that,' she said.
'I know.'
'He may be useful to us. Yoen and the other elders said-'
'Are you here to chastise me?'
Skylene took Mor's chin in her fingers and turned her head around. She leaned in and kissed her full on the mouth. Mor opened to her, hungry for her, thinking, for a few moments, of nothing save the texture of her lover's lips and feel of her teeth. She drove her tongue between them and found the answering luxury beyond.
Too soon, Skylene pulled back. She ran her fingers up her forehead and over the tufts that jutted from her hairline. 'No, I'm here to tell you he's awake again, and sensible. I left Tunnel with him. He seems to like talking with him.'
'That won't help his recovery any,' Mor said wryly. 'Did you question him?'
'He tells a strange story. He claims he was betrayed. Claims he came as an envoy from his sister the queen. Says the leaguemen chained him. Says they poisoned the Lothan Aklun somehow and tried to make a new deal with the Auldek. Says the league was going to give him to the Auldek, but then something happened and the Numrek betrayed them all. It does seem to match what I witnessed. And you heard what the spotters said of the waters. They're empty of Aklun ships. Whatever happened-'
'Whatever happened is still a confusion. None of it makes sense yet. The Numrek-What are those vile ones doing back here?'
Skylene did not dispute the point or try to answer the question. 'Dariel says that he did not support the quota. Says he was going to find a way to break it, to trade in other things-not slaves.'
Mor leaned her head back against Skylene's chest. 'You call him by his first name now? Don't tell me you believe him. How many years have they sold us into slavery? How many thousands gone? Generations, and he expects us to believe that the first one of them we catch wished only to deliver us. They lie better than you, Skylene. Don't be fooled by it.'
'Tunnel likes him,' Skylene said, after a moment of silence. 'He already thinks he's Rhuin Fa.'
'Based on what facts?'
'Based on the fact that he's been waiting his entire life for it. Just like everybody, Mor. Just like all of us.'
'Not me.'
Skylene squeezed her shoulder and then stepped away. 'So you say. I'm not so sure. Sometimes I think you pray for the Rhuin Fa more than any of us.' Before Mor could respond, Skylene clicked her tongue. 'Next time you see him, keep your claws to yourself. And you must remember that you are not an elder. You're just their chosen agent. You cannot harm this man without their permission. To do so would doom you as much as him. We're to talk to him. Talk and tell Yoen what we learn. Let him and the others decide what comes from it.'
'I'm not a child,' Mor said.
'No, you're a brilliant and brave leader, who sometimes forgets her senses.'
Mor closed her eyes. I wasn't always like that. I wasn't always.
That day in the soul catcher-whose name and purpose she did not understand until later-she certainly had not been a brave leader. She had been a child who stood against the wall as directed by the large-eared woman. Mor stared wide-eyed around a room she could not comprehend. Lothan Aklun men and women moved about, all dressed in loose-fitting gowns that trailed on the white stone floor. They were uniformly thin. No laborers' bodies, theirs. They were busy with tasks that, for a few moments, Mor thought had nothing to do with Ravi and her. They bustled about, talking and pressing their hands against panels in the stone. At least, she assumed the substance was stone. It was as hard as stone, and it made up the walls; other objects around the room seemed to have been carved from same material. Toward the center of the oblong room were two raised rectangles like beds, but so flat and cold no one would sleep on them. Some distance above, hanging from the ceiling, were still larger rectangular shapes.
The Lothan Aklun ignored them so completely that for a short space of time she tingled with the notion that they had forgotten all about her. She still held Ravi's hand. Mightn't they both slip away? The door was open. She could feel Ravi thinking the same thing, his excitement making his fingers twitch. It was just there, daylight shining through.
Ravi moved. He clamped his fingers around her hand, painfully tight, and yanked her into motion. Just as she had thought; they ran for the door. They were nearly there in just a few steps. The Lothan Aklun did not notice. The woman who had escorted them had her back to them. Mor did not think about what they would do on the other side of the threshold, other than dash down those steps. Running. Running.
A man's form cut the brilliance of the day. He strode in, his feet heavy on the stone. Both children abruptly stopped. Ravi fell and let go of his sister's hand. Mor had never seen so tall a man, long legged and long armed and with a torso muscled in bulging ridged compartments. Though he wore only a short black skirt and though his hair was long in the manner of Candovian brides, he seemed a warrior about to kill. His fists clenched and released, hungry for the weapons that belonged in them. The strength of him was obscene-that was how she would remember it-and yet she could not look away. A body built for war, designed for no other purpose, suited to no other purpose. An Auldek, she would later learn.
She thought that he had entered just to stop them, but it was clear from the look of casual interest on his face that he was surprised to see the children flailing at his feet. Several more like him in size and bearing followed him, companions chatting as they stepped across the threshold. While she was still stunned and stumbling back,
