violence. It is a pity your people have not remained as consistent. Only a few years ago they were outraged at the Pentadrians’ willingness to invade another land. Now they seek to invade in turn. Tell the White that if my assistance disadvantages the Circlians, perhaps they should abandon their plans of invasion. It would be better for all.”
Danjin felt a flare of anger. How dare this heathen sorcerer think he could change the course of a war as if he were a god. But then an idea came to calm his indignation.
“So if the White agreed to abandon the invasion, would you also withdraw your assistance to the Pentadrians?”
Mirar paused. “I would consider it.” He turned abruptly to look behind him. “A patrol is coming. You should go.”
A stab of fear went through Danjin. “How far?”
“You have enough time to leave if you go now. I will push your boat out as far as I can.”
Danjin nodded in gratitude, then realized he was probably as hard to see in this darkness as Mirar.
“Thank you,” he said.
Turning away, he hurried to the boat and climbed aboard. Hearing splashes, he turned to see that Mirar had followed him.
“I will do what I can for Auraya,” Mirar said quietly. “But be warned. If she returns you will find she is not the same woman you knew. The gods have betrayed her and used her like a piece in a game of petty revenge between themselves. One does not live through that and remain free of bitterness.”
Danjin shivered. This time there was definitely the sound of great age and experience in the man’s voice. He gripped the sides of the boat as it jerked free of the sand and slid rapidly toward the water. Once it floated freely, it turned about. Danjin found himself facing the shore, just able to make out the figure standing there. Then the boat abruptly shot forward. It gathered speed, moving ever faster, until spray began to shoot up on either side. Danjin gripped the sides of the boat tighter, his heart racing. He began to worry that it would smash into something, but was too terrified to look around.
Relief washed over him when the boat finally began to slow. The lights from the Pentadrian shore were reassuringly distant. He turned and drew in a quick breath. The lights of Diamyane were unexpectedly close.
He sat there pondering this for a few minutes. Surely that wasn’t possible. Ella had replaced Auraya, so they must be about equal in strength. The gods wouldn’t have sent Auraya to kill Mirar if she was weaker than him.
A splash close to the boat brought his attention back to his surroundings. He peered over the edge, not expecting to see anything. Instead he found a pair of eyes staring back at him.
Paralyzed by surprise, he stared back. Then two dark hands shot out of the water toward his throat.
He jerked back and shoved them away at the same time, getting an impression of cold and slippery skin. The hands grabbed hold of the side of the boat. They were extraordinarily large and there was webbing between the fingers. He heard a slap and turned to see another hand appear over the other side of the boat, holding a strange weapon.
Heads appeared. Black, bald heads with strange filmy eyes. Terror rushed through Danjin. Grabbing an oar, he swung it at one. It ducked. He reversed the swing and jabbed the paddle of the oar at the other. It connected with a satisfying crack.
The man dropped into the water, then the first disappeared. Danjin wondered if he had caused a fatal injury. If he had wounded the man, his companion might have to take him away. If he hadn’t, or had killed the man, he’d have either one or two men coming back for revenge.
To his dismay, two heads appeared in the water nearby. One’s nose was bleeding profusely, dribbling into a mouth caught in a snarl of hate. The blood was a livid red against the man’s white teeth.
The two men looked up and toward the shore, and their expressions changed to fear. They vanished underwater. Turning, Danjin saw a spark of light rushing toward him. He waved his arms, then tumbled into the bottom of the boat as it jerked into motion. Sighing with relief, he decided to stay there.
The journey to the shore was mercifully short. When he felt the boat slow he began to pull himself back onto the seat. Ella stood on the beach ahead, a white glowing figure of goodness. As the boat slid up onto the sand she strode forward, her dress and circ dipping into the water. He felt a sudden rush of affection for her.
“Are you all right, Danjin?”
He stepped out and looked himself over. “Fine. A bit bruised in places, but otherwise happy to be alive.” He glanced behind. “What were those creatures?”
“Elai,” she replied, frowning. “Several of our supply ships and a Dunwayan warship have been sunk tonight. That wasn’t a weapon you saw. It was a tool for drilling holes.”
Danjin nodded. Of course. Now that she had pointed it out, he recognized the tool as one used for ship repairs. In the hands of the creature it had taken on an exotic menace.
“We’ll have to work out a way to fight them, or we’ll never survive a protracted battle here,” Ella added.
“Well, I’m glad he didn’t get a chance to drill any holes in me,” he said.
She smiled. “And I am, too. I wish I hadn’t needed to send you over there, but the only other way we could have talked to Mirar was through Arleej, and there may have been something he’d agree to so long as his people didn’t know of it.”
“Did anything good come of it?” he asked.
She looked at him, then shrugged. “Maybe. We will have to discuss it. You should get some sleep in these last few hours before the army arrives.”
“I don’t think I will.”
“No, but you will try,” she said firmly. “I’ll need you alert and at your best tomorrow.”
Putting a hand on his shoulder, she steered him toward the town.
As Auraya grew aware of her aching body again she nearly groaned aloud.
Something snuffled at her ear. She opened her eyes and turned her head. Round eyes and a pointed nose filled her vision. A narrow pink tongue licked her nose.
“Owaya,” Mischief said quietly.
“You’re back.” She nearly sobbed with relief.
“Msstf hunt. Msstf find.”
He moved something from his hand to his mouth and scurried up her arm.
Shifting position, she went rigid with the pain that shot down her arms. Breathing steadily, she waited for circulation to return.
The weight of the veez and the prodding of his feet didn’t help at all. As feeling returned his every movement sent shocks of agony along her arm.
“Ow! That hurts!”
He ignored her. Bending forward, she tried to see what he was doing.
And a wave of giddy, dizzy hope took her breath away.
Mischief was holding a key in his mouth. He was trying to insert it into the lock of the cuff around her wrist. Auraya gaped at him, but as she saw that he was trying to put the wrong end in the keyhole her wits returned in a rush. She glanced at the Servant guards. They were both leaning against the wall beside the gate, their heads lowered. Reaching out with her mind she saw that they were sulking about being left behind.
