Sunmaster, page 14
Pure ice slid through him, freezing his thoughts with a horrible crystal clarity.
The sea serpents had attacked the very first time he'd sailed with the whole of the Ilyaran fleet. The Northern stone snake had come after them in the aftermath of him discovering his limited stone witchery. And the glasswing, that beautiful, tragic creature of air, had come to him from the windstorm he'd created upon learning skymastery.
He had been out of balance all that time. It suddenly seemed very real and possible that all of that destruction, all of those deaths, were because these magic-born creatures were drawn to the witchery struggling within him.
Rasim's heart unfroze, thudding wildly above a stomach sick with nerves before he twisted to one side and threw up. It felt and tasted terrible, but it was almost a relief. It might help get the zjhala out of his system. Wiping his mouth, he looked back at the wreckage, and then clumsily, unsure of himself, Rasim got to his feet and started walking. The mountains they'd crossed to get onto the Shenryalan plains were to the east. If he walked that way long enough, he would eventually find them. If he climbed one and went down the other side and headed south, sooner or later he would come to the Waifia. It wasn't a good plan, but it was better than wandering the endless steppes hoping he might discover the gathering.
And his witchery would come back, sooner or later. He could try to call for less extraordinary help, then. But in the meantime, staying where the stone snake and his captors had been just seemed like a chance to get caught again. As it was, he'd be lucky if they didn't come back to their destroyed camp, because he was sure they would catch him quickly if they returned.
Even just an hour of walking gave him some hope that they were still running the other direction. If they'd turned around and come back in the wake of the stone snake's departure, he was confident they'd have caught him already, because it felt like he was walking only slightly faster than a snail. It was hard to keep all his parts going the same direction at the same time, and he had no idea how long it would take the zjhala to wear off. They'd made him take a dose every several hours, so he would probably be fine by morning, if he stayed free that long.
A glance at the sky made him laugh, in a rough uncertain way. It was still morning. He'd woken up fairly early, and it hadn't really been very long before the snake had smashed its way through the camp. So he might be fine by evening, which would make building a shelter of some kind easier.
Long before that became an issue, though, there were hoofbeats on the plains, and Bikat himself, flanked by the Stonemaster journeymen Milu and Telun, came to his rescue.
Most of what Rasim could recall of the return to camp was that Milu seemed extremely good at riding a horse. He was so tall his feet nearly touched the ground when he sat astride, but the sturdy animal he rode seemed to find that acceptable, and Milu, who hated to travel, looked comfortable on its back. Telun was less good at it, but where Milu went, Telun did, so of course he was there.
And they were both there because the stone snake's emergence from deep in the plains bedrock had sent so many waves of disturbance through the earth that Milu had been able to lead them, unerringly, to where it had appeared. "We knew it was you," Telun said quite cheerfully. "Who else would create earthquakes all on his own?"
"I didn't mean to. I'm sorry," Rasim said, mostly to Bikat, with whom he was riding. Several of his escort had been shocked that the King Horse himself shared a saddle with the sorcerer-child, but Bikat had sworn to Nasira that he would take no chances with Rasim's safety. Rasim had apologized to him at least four times, and each time Bikat had passed it off, as he did this time, too.
"Your transgression is less than our own, which allowed you to be taken. If you apologize again I will take insult."
Rasim kept his mouth shut for the rest of the ride, and fell tiredly off the horse when they arrived back in camp. Kisia and Desimi crowded around him, and he hugged them gratefully. "Are you all right, Kees?"
"Am I all right?" Her eyes were very large and bright and her voice cracked on the question. "I'm fine. Are you?" She did look better than she had the last time Rasim had seen her, although her skin still looked a little drawn, like the poisoning had left some effects she hadn't yet thrown off. Rasim studied her, making sure she was really all right before he nodded carefully.
"I'm mostly all right, but I think I need to see Sesin. I got hit on the head and I haven't been right since. But they kept drugging me, too, so I don't know which it is that making me feel bad."
"We would hear your story, when you are well," Bikat said with great formality, and Rasim blinked at him, then nodded carefully.
"Of course, King Horse. I hope it'll be tonight, but…" Rasim cast a glance toward the now-setting sun. "But is another night really going to matter?"
A faint smile pulled at Bikat's mouth. "By morning our fugitives may well be in custody, and many questions will be answered. Rest and heal. We can wait."
"Thank you." Rasim, leaning more on Desimi than he wanted to admit, went to their tent to find Sesin waiting with concern and Nasira with exasperation. He said, "I didn't mean to," to the captain, who sighed.
"You rarely do. See the healer, Journeyman. I'll save the shouting for later."
"Thanks. I think." Rasim sat at Sesin's order, feeling the soft weight of her witchery as she examined him. "Oh! The drug's wearing off. I can feel your power again."
"Mmm." She examined his eyes and sighed. "You're probably coming out of a concussion, but there's not much I can do now. You should have spent the past couple of days resting, not resisting being kidnapped, but none of this would have happened if you hadn't been kidnapped, so. I'd like you to get some sleep instead of going to talk to Irlin and Bikat."
Rasim closed his eyes, trying to see if the detachment of the zjhala had left him yet. All the same pieces of what he'd observed were still there, lingering around the edges of his mind, but none of them wanted to connect with each other and make sense yet. "Maybe that's a good idea."
"Really?" Sesin's voice rose sharply enough with surprise that she laughed. "I thought you'd argue with me."
"I think I'd rather sleep than argue."
"Well, that's a first," Captain Nasira said dryly. Rasim gave her a wounded look and she chuckled. "Get some rest, Journeyman. I expect you'll have a lot of explaining to do tomorrow."
"Yes, Captain." Despite his best efforts, though, Rasim struggled to sleep. People were in and out of the tent, some of them surreptitiously checking on him, others just because they had things to do. Bayar came in to talk to Kisia for a while, and they both sat where they could see Rasim, like he might disappear again without supervision. Prince Lorens brought food in that almost everyone shared, but Rasim couldn't convince himself to sit up and eat.
Desimi noticed he was awake, though, and came to sit by him for a minute, mumbling, "I shouldn't have gone off with Ūrrin. This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't been alone."
"Or maybe they'd have clobbered both of us," Rasim whispered. "It wasn't your fault. But thanks."
"Yeah. Get some sleep, Sunburn." Desimi left him alone, and strangely enough, after that, Rasim slept.
CHAPTER 17
The pieces came together as Rasim woke up. Fragile, barely connected, but finally there. He lay very still and quiet in bed for a few minutes, making sure he wouldn't lose the pattern of how they fit with one another, and then rose, feeling like himself for the first time in days. His head no longer hurt, either distantly or urgently, and it was so nice to not hurt he thought he might cry from relief.
He was also actually hungry for the first time in days, and someone outside the tent was roasting lamb for breakfast. Rasim staggered out, his mouth watering, and found Bayar crouched at a nearby fire, watching the lamb cook on a spit. In daylight, it was clear that he was, like Kisia, more fragile than usual. The red warmth in his face burned too close to the surface, like his skin had become almost transparent, and his movements were a little careful. But he was clearly better enough to be waiting at a fire, and he stood to hug Rasim hard as he approached. "We were afraid for you, 'sorcerer-child.'"
Rasim groaned, but returned the embrace gladly. "I'd rather be called Sunburn."
Bayar grinned. "Perhaps I'll simply call you Rasim. You're well?"
"Well enough." Rasim sat beside Bayar on the dirt, both of them watching the lamb cook, now. "Starving, but otherwise all right. But I had some ideas, Bayar. I thought of some things."
The handsome Shenryalan boy smiled. "Of course you did. Have you solved every mystery that's bothered us?"
"Some of them, maybe."
Bayar's eyebrows rose and he lifted a hand to stop Rasim's further explanations. "Best wait until you can speak with my parents, so you don't have to repeat everything."
"After breakfast," Rasim said hopefully, and Bayar's beautiful grin shone again.
"After breakfast. I have one question, though. Our earth-workers said there was a great disturbance, and your friend Milu ran from camp alone. I think he would have run all the way to you, if the riders hadn't caught up to him. What did you do?"
"I called for help," Rasim said slowly. "I was trying to call that dragon, but a stone snake came instead. I'd seen one like it before, in the Northern mountains. I think it came up from the bedrock, so Milu would have felt it even if no one else did, but it shoved so much earth aside when it came up that I'm not surprised your earth witches felt it, too. It wasn't what I meant to do at all."
"So it isn't just the dragon," Bayar said thoughtfully. "Or the glasswing, in the Moranese windstorm. You command all the monsters that legend has ever dreamed."
"Siliaria's teeth, I hope not. No. I don't think I was commanding anything, for one thing. I think it responded to me because…" Rasim sighed. "This might be better to just explain all at once to your parents and Captain Nasira and everyone, too, but Oyun said I'm unbalanced, or I was until she helped me, and I think maybe that's why they've responded to me. And one of the people who took me was a sky witch. She buried the sound of my voice, when I called for help. I think maybe the only thing that could hear me at all was the stone snake." He took a breath, about to add more, but ended up shaking his head and going in another direction. "Bayar, does anyone ever begin to study with the shamans but…fail, I guess? Decide it's not their path, or turn out to be not well-suited for it?"
Bayar blinked at him with interest. "Does that happen in Ilyara?"
Rasim sighed. "Not in the guilds, no. There are people like me who aren't very good at witchery, but they stay in the guild, at least until they're pretty grown-up. I'm just trying to figure out where along the line the secrets of making these drugs could slip out to people who aren't shamans."
"Ah." Bayar fell silent a moment, his gaze so entirely focused on the cooking lamb that it seemed to be his entire world for a few minutes. Finally, though, he said, "The venom is key. Concentrated, it becomes hinzjha, the life-slayer. Diluted, it is zjhala, the spirit-walker. Dried, ground up with a rare plant, it is delzjha, the wisdom-slayer that boosts magic and drives a sorcerer to use their power until they die of it."
Rasim's heart lurched. "It's all the same stuff?"
"Could you not guess, from the names?"
"I don't speak Shenryalan that well, Bayar!"
Bayar laughed. "Forgive me, then. Perhaps it would have been easier on you if you'd realized they were made of the same thing."
"Maybe! Does everybody know that? I should have saved myself the trouble of getting kidnapped and just asked you."
"Not everyone," Bayar replied thoughtfully. "The Great Mare, and those who are close to the shamans. Enough people, Rasim. Enough for the secret to slip out, although administering them correctly, that is a secret. If too much zjhala is given and the spirit leaves the body too quickly, for example, it may never find its way back."
"Siliaria's fins! I left my body really fast twice. At least twice."
Bayar's eyebrows drew down and he bowed his head toward Rasim. "You should meet with Oyun again, so that she may be certain that they are still properly bound to one another."
"I will!"
"Breakfast first." Bayar cut off a hunk of seared meat with a knife and offered it to Rasim, who ate greedily, and, for a little while, let everything else go. Desimi and Kisia came out to join them, and slowly, so did everyone else, until Rasim felt the weight of them not asking what had happened in the past few days.
He finally sat back with a groan and raised his hands like he was fending off a barrage of questions. "Bayar, when are your parents going to be ready to talk to me? I don't think I can stand everybody looking at me for much longer."
Bayar, with so much formality he was clearly teasing, said, "The King Horse and Great Mare await your pleasure, Sorcerer-Child," and laughed when Rasim threw a bit of lamb bone at him. "They should be ready. I think they hoped they would have captured your captors, and could end this with a show of strength, but thus far they have evaded us."
Rasim wrinkled his face. "Leaving them relying on a first-year journeyman to know what's going on. I'm sure they must really like that. All right." He stood, brushing his hands against his trousers, then wishing he hadn't put grease stains on them right before going to see royalty.
Bayar went ahead of him, but Rasim felt like he ended up leading quite an odd band into the largest Shenryalan tent. Kisia and Desimi flanked him, which was normal enough, but Captain Nasira and Sunmaster Endat followed them, and then most of the rest of the Ilyaran contingent, including the old Moranese woman, and even Lars, the former Northern slave. The other journeymen had stayed behind, as Pynda still had almost nothing to say, and neither Milu nor Telun wanted to leave her entirely alone.
Angled sunlight spilled through raised sections of the tent's roof, brightening the interior. The Shenryalans within were seated more or less as he expected them to be, women on one side and men on another. To Rasim's surprise, Kif sat with the men, his back straight and an expression of grave pride on his old face. Across from him was the woman that Darracha's mother reminded Rasim of. He couldn't tell, studying her, whether they really looked alike, or if they just had similar scowls. Her daughter was beside her, hands clenched together in her lap and gaze downcast so Rasim couldn't see her face clearly. He didn't think she looked like Darracha either, but he wasn't sure about anything anymore. Especially since at the moment, men and women alike had similar foreboding expressions, as if they were trying to prepare for the worst.
Bayar's parents sat on their usual thrones, with Oyun and Bayar's chairs to either side. Neither of them looked as though they'd slept much, and, like those around them, both seemed to be braced for news they didn't really want to hear. But Irlin nodded graciously, then smiled when Rasim, unsure of what else to do, bowed briefly to both of them. "We thank you for the honor you offer, sorcerer-child."
"And we offer our apologies for the dishonor done to you." Bikat's usually-gentle voice held deep threads of anger. "I'm sorry that we must interrogate you on what has happened, Rasim. We have far fewer answers than we hoped to by now."
"It's all right. I hope I might have some for you." Rasim cast one apologetic look at Nasira, but she only rolled her eyes and waved a hand, as if recognizing that Rasim was the only person who could tell the Shenryalan royal family anything useful right now. "I don't even know if there was anybody left for you to catch, honestly. The stone snake smashed a lot of people. I know some ran away, but it might have gotten them before it went back underground."
A rather loud silence followed that, and every adult in the room seemed to take the time to exchange looks with every other adult in the room. Rasim, hands cold with sudden nerves, turned toward Kisia and Desimi, who both bugged their eyes and hissed for him to face forward again. Finally Irlin said, "I very much want an explanation about that, but perhaps you should start at the beginning, Rasim."
Rasim didn't think the story itself was very complicated. It was what he'd put together in the aftermath that seemed important, but he explained about being hit over the head and drugged, and about the small encampment of sorcerers and students. Somewhere in the middle explaining what had happened, Rasim realized he was avoiding saying Darracha's name. He didn't know if she was even still alive, and he thought that she'd been pretty nice, all things considered. He didn't want to get her in trouble. It seemed silly, but also important, somehow. "I never saw the woman I was calling the ringleader use any witchery. Neither did the man who gave me the zjhala. There was a girl who was an earth witch, and her mother, who was a sky witch, and—" Rasim took a deep breath. "And I don't know if it was her, but now that I know for sure there are rogue Shenryalan skymasters, I think one of them probably kidnapped Bayar."
A stir of interest ran through the room as the translator echoed his words in the Shenryalan language, but Irlin, who understood him directly, leaned forward intently. "Speak to me of why."
"Because Bayar said nobody ever said anything, the whole time they were taking him to the continent. And when I shouted for help, Alsari muted it with her witchery. It made me realize that a skymaster could have just kept Bayar's ears blocked, so he neve…" He trailed off into bewildered silence as a stir, and then an uproar swept through the tent. People surged to their feet, shouting questions. On the women's side of the tent, a space opened up around the stern-jawed woman with the grey-streaked hair. She sat unmoving, her eyes wide and mouth open, staring at Rasim with shock. The girl beside her lifted her eyes, dismay written in her face.
Bikat snapped, "Speak that name again!" to Rasim, who flinched toward the King Horse in confusion.
"Did I say a name? I…" He closed his eyes, trying to hear what he'd said, and then, all at once, remembering how Darracha had introduced herself. Darracha, daughter of Alsari, granddaughter of Nirjeran. Rasim had completely forgotten that on a conscious level, with the uncomfortable distance between his body and spirit, and the ache in his head. "Alsari, daughter of Nirjeran. She didn't give me her name, but her daughter Darracha did." Guilt swam through him at bringing Darracha's name into it, and he added, "She wanted to be a healer," very softly, as if that might somehow make a difference.
