The crowd was thin at the edges. Tarsheni slowed and moved deeper. Emerahl could not see the object of the crowd’s attention, but she could hear him easily.
“We are all creations of the Maker,” he boomed. “You, me, the priest over there, the arem that hauls your goods and the reyner that you ride are its creations. The bird that sings and the insect that bites are its creations. The lowly beggar, the successful merchant, the kings and emperors of the world, the priests and followers of all gods, the Gifted, the unGifted, all are its creations. Even the gods themselves are—”
The voice stopped and Emerahl heard a fainter one.
“No!” the Wise Man continued. “That is not true. I have studied the texts and sought the wisdom of all religions, and no god has ever claimed to have created the world. But it must have a creator. A Maker—”
Emerahl almost caught the next question. She decided to move closer, leaving the family listening with rapt attention.
“The existence of the world is proof enough! Only a being of higher... Yes, that is right. The Maker made creatures that we consider evil. But why do we consider them evil? Because they kill? A carmook kills and eats other living things, and we keep them as pets. A reyner eats plants. They are living things as well. We fear the leramers and the vorns because they can kill us, but they do not do so out of malice, but hunger. We dislike them because they eat our stock. That is inconvenience, not evil.”
There was a pause, then a chuckle. As two men beside her shifted their weight, Emerahl unexpectedly caught a glimpse of a handsome young man standing on a wooden box, arms raised as he prepared to address the crowd again. She paused, surprised that the Wise Man was so young, then moved closer.
“... be evil, too. Why do we prey upon ourselves? I do not know. Why is the world not perfect? Why can we not comprehend and understand every part of it from birth? Clearly the Maker did not intend that. The Maker made the world changeable. Perhaps so that we have a reason to strive.”
Emerahl stopped as she found herself nearing several priests and priestesses. There was even a high priest in the group. While several of the Circlians were frowning, some were listening with interest.
“It has fallen to me to strive to understand the Maker,” the Wise Man continued. “All are welcome to join me. I do not ask you to give up anything. Not family, wealth, profession, power or even religion. Believe in the Maker and together - man and woman, rich and poor, Gifted and unGifted - we may strive to unravel some of life’s mysteries.”
He continued in the same fashion. Listeners moved on and others replaced them, and questions began to be repeated. Emerahl made her way back through the crowd to the family. She saw that the Circlians had left. A pair of Pentadrians were also departing.
“I must get my inks and papers,” Tarsheni breathed. He turned to Emerahl. “What did you think?”
She shrugged. “An interesting idea.”
“So you said before.”
“I also said if he couldn’t prove it most people wouldn’t pay much attention.”
“Isn’t the existence of the world enough?”
“No,” she replied honestly. “I don’t think the Circlians like the idea that someone claims a greater being created their gods.”
Tarsheni grinned. “Who cares what the Circlians think, eh?”
Emerahl laughed. “Indeed.” She looked at each of them, then smiled. “I guess it is time for us to part.”
“It was a pleasure travelling with you,” Shalina said, with feeling.
“And you,” Emerahl replied.
“Thank you for transporting us,” Tarsheni said solemnly. “And for saving us from those thieves in the Isthmus tunnel.”
“If you hadn’t told me about the tunnel I’d have had to sell my boat,” Emerahl pointed out. “So you saved me from being robbed as much as I saved you.”
The couple chuckled. “Where will you go now?”
“Upriver.”
“A family matter?”
“You could think of it that way. I, like you, am hoping to meet someone I’ve heard much of but never met.”
“Then I hope you are as satisfied with your meeting as we are with ours,” Tarsheni replied. “Farewell, Emmea. May the winds always blow in your favor.”
“Farewell,” Emerahl replied. “And remember my advice. If he starts asking for your money, don’t give a coin more than you can safely afford. I’ve encountered false wise men before, and they can be cunning.”
“We’ll be careful.”
Smiling, Emerahl turned away from the family and started back to the docks and her little boat, and the last leg of her journey to the Red Caves.
For once Auraya wished she could fly into the Open without attracting a crowd of welcoming Siyee. Their reverence felt wrong. Misplaced. She was not worthy of it.
As she landed Speaker Sirri met her and offered the traditional water and cake. But before Auraya could eat them something streaked across the ground and bounded into her arms, knocking bowl and cake from her hands.
“Mischief!” she exclaimed. “That was rude!” The veez wriggled with excitement. It was impossible to scold him convincingly. She hadn’t seen him in so long, and it was suddenly so good to be the subject of simple, unconditional adoration.
“Owaya back,” he said. “Owaya stay.”
“All right, Mischief. Auraya stay. Now - bleargh! Stop that!”
She’d had a glimpse of a pink tongue headed for her, but too late to avoid it. Grabbing the veez, she held him at arm’s length to stop him licking her face, then looked beyond him and saw that Sirri was holding a hand over her mouth to stop herself laughing.
Auraya chuckled ruefully, and looked around in surprise as the sound of laughter came from all sides.
“Sorry about that, Speaker Sirri,” she said. “I’ve neglected his training of late and he has a talent for picking up new bad habits.”
“I think he learned that from the children,” Sirri said apologetically, removing a hand to reveal a wide grin. “They adore him.”
Mischief began to struggle, suddenly intent on getting down to the ground again. Auraya let him go, but groaned aloud as he pounced on the piece of cake. At this the crowd of Siyee burst into laughter again. Auraya felt a wave of affection for them. Instead of insult at the interrupted ceremony they found humor in the situation.
“Are you staying?” Sirri asked. “Would you like to join me in my bower for a proper meal tonight?”
“I am, and I’d love to.” Auraya picked up Mischief and set him onto her shoulders. “How are things here?”
“Let’s discuss it on the way to your bower,” Sirri said, stepping away. Auraya fell into step beside her. Sirri remained quiet until they had moved out of the hearing of other Siyee. “Messengers of the Sand tribe reported that a Pentadrian ship had been seen off the coast, and that they had alerted you.”
Auraya nodded. “They did, but the ship was long gone by the time I got there.”
“We have had several new cases of Hearteater since you left. They came from the Temple Mountain tribe, saying you sent them here. They have been isolated and the priests are looking after them.”
Auraya groaned. “I told the Speaker to send only those who had been sick and had recovered away from the mountain. What of the other villages?”
“Even the most distant tribes are sending messages for help. I fear you cannot reach them all in time. I do not know what to do. And the Blue Lake tribe has sent news that Dreamweaver Wilar has vanished.”
Auraya felt a shiver run down her spine at the name. From Sirri’s thoughts she could see the Speaker didn’t
