The healer cast him a sharp look and seemed to consider before answering. ‘That wound will not heal until she forgives herself. She failed to foresee my sacrare daughter’s murder. She hasn’t been able to scry since. Her gift eats away at her, just as the scar eats away at her face. Did you notice how it grew the night of the sea-raiders’ attack?’
He nodded, dry mouthed. ‘I was wondering if I’d imagined it.’
‘The gifts are dangerous, Ronnyn. They exact a price. Lysi’s gift will consume her if she does not forgive herself. I’ve forgiven her. I’ve even forgiven the warriors who killed my little girl.’
‘I don’t understand how you could,’ he confessed. He’d want revenge. ‘And I don’t see how you can rear us boys, knowing we are promised to the brotherhoods.’
Reoden was half a head taller than him. She leaned closer so that she looked deep into his eyes. He saw her sadness, and beneath it a compassion that had no end.
‘I do it because I’m rearing all-fathers who will be able to see beyond their own brotherhood. These all-fathers will serve the whole T’Enatuath.’ She gestured to the upper rear-deck cabins. ‘We elected Imoshen to be our causare to save us from the King Charald the Oath-breaker, but I believe the role of causare will live on. I’m rearing all-fathers who will be worthy of becoming causare or, if the causare is an all-mother, they will be her trusted commanders. Then, instead of tearing ourselves apart, the T’Enatuath will grow in strength!’
Inspired by her vision, Ronnyn’s heart soared.
I
MOSHEN LIFTED THE
spy-glass to her eye to study the sea-vermin’s sails. Like a wolf pack following a herd, the raiders had been trailing them, even three days out from the coast.
‘Here.’She handed the spy-glass to Saffazi.
‘There’s more than yesterday.’ The initiate lowered the glass and returned it to Imoshen. ‘I thought they wouldn’t follow us into the Secluded Sea in winter.’
‘Usually sea-vermin stay close to the islands, where they can hide or escape over shoals the deeper-keeled ships cannot cross. But they are notoriously good sailors.’
‘Their ships are so much smaller than ours. Surely they can’t mean to make a frontal assault?’
‘Their vessels might be small, but each one is packed with warriors eager for gold. Our ships are packed with old folk, nursing mothers, babies and children.’
Imoshen beckoned the ship’s master.
The veteran Malaunje sailor strode over to them.
‘What do you think?’ She passed him the spy-glass. ‘Will they attack?’
He planted his legs and studied the sails, which had kept their distance, sometimes drifting back until only the tips of the tallest masts could be seen above the horizon.
Just then Egrayne joined them on deck. She stared towards the horizon, a frown drawing her dark brows together. ‘We’ve already beaten them back once, and their losses were terrible. Surely they won’t attack again?’
Imoshen waited, but the ship’s master didn’t speak. ‘Each ship is a little kingdom, and they prize their freedom too much to form a fleet under one leader.’
‘Usually. But...’ The ship’s master lowered the spy-glass, speaking up at last. ‘There’s twice as many sails as this time yesterday.’
‘Then they are massing to attack?’ Imoshen asked.
‘They’ve known all summer that we were to be banished. They’ve had time to plan.’
They all stared at the distant sails.
‘The threat of our gifts used to keep our enemies at bay,’ Egrayne said.
‘I’ve heard...’ the ship’s master began, then hesitated. Imoshen gestured for him to go on. He shrugged. ‘I’ve heard Mieren captains claim that there’s a sea-vermin power-worker who speaks directly to the sea god. They say he can call the wind.’
Egrayne snorted. ‘Save me from Mieren captains and their sea god!’
‘But Mieren don’t have innate power,’ Saffazi objected. ‘How could –’
‘He would have to draw power from the empyrean plane,’ Egrayne said. ‘If he can summon the wind, he’s using stolen power to do it.’
‘If he can summon the wind, then his prey would benefit from the wind just as much as the sea-vermin,’ Imoshen said. ‘Unless he could make the wind blow only over his own sails!’
The ship’s master chuckled.
‘Do they or don’t they have a power-worker?’ Egrayne asked.
He shrugged. ‘You hear things...’
Egrayne sent Imoshen a look of exasperation, but underneath it there was fear. Back in the Celestial City, her voice-of-reason’s insights had been invaluable navigating the shoals of brotherhood and sisterhood rivalry, but out here, Egrayne was out of her depth. She knew it and she didn’t like it.
Out here, there was only one T’En whose knowledge of the sea Imoshen trusted, and Ardonyx would take precautions if he thought the fleet was in danger.
R
ONNYN RAN OVER
the dunes, searching for his sister. Aravelle was here somewhere, lost and alone, needing him. He just knew it.
The axe felt good in his hand; felt right, like an extension of himself.
He looked down – his bad arm was perfect – and knew this was a dream. Yet it felt so real.
The sense that Aravelle was in danger returned, stronger this time. He recognised where he was. It was the last dune before the beach; the dune they’d rounded to find a Mieren fisherman washed up on the shore, so long ago. It was the day they saw their gentle father strangle a defenceless man to protect their family.
It was the end of their childhood, although he hadn’t realised it then. He’d felt safe on their island. Now nothing was safe and he had to save Aravelle.
When he reached the crest of the dune, he saw her on the beach, silhouetted against the sparkling water, looking into the setting sun.
‘Vella!’
She turned. But it wasn’t his sister.
This girl had the silver hair of the T’En, and he didn’t recognise her. Now he felt something else on the beach with them, something big and dangerous and not civilised.
Raw and powerful, it surged between him and the girl. Terror filled his chest.
He woke with a start and sat bolt upright. Silver moonlight came in through the windows, illuminating the empowered lads’ cabin.
‘Lyxie...’ Sardeon moaned.
A wave of gift immanence rolled off him, engulfing Ronnyn, prickling across his skin. It seemed his choice-brother’s power had manifested but it didn’t trigger his own gift.
Sardeon’s breathing grew short and tight. He frowned and muttered under his breath. ‘Watch out. It’s coming. Watch –’
‘You’re having a nightmare, Sar,’ Ronnyn whispered, shaking his shoulder gently. ‘Wake up.’
But Sardeon didn’t wake.
Ronnyn cupped his cheek. Immediately, Sardeon’s nightmare engulfed Ronnyn. They were back on that beach. No, the beach dissolved into a formless plain of shadows, hillocks and prowling, sentient danger.
Terror engulfed Ronnyn. So cold...
He spun around.
Saw Sardeon. Really
saw
him for the first time. Without the distraction of his beauty, Ronnyn saw that his choice-brother was a blade: keen, sharp, driven and determined. He was so surprised that he forgot his fear.
Then he sensed something stalking them, creeping closer and preparing to pounce.
He ran, tackled Sardeon and...
They both woke, gasping with terror.
For a heartbeat, Sardeon stared at Ronnyn as though he was a stranger. Then recognition hit him and he shuddered so badly his teeth chattered.
‘You were having a bad dream,’ Ronnyn told him, rubbing Sardeon’s chest, over his racing heart, like his mother used to do. ‘Your gift dragged me into your dream.’
‘My gift?’ Sardeon brushed off his hand. ‘Don’t be cruel.’
Cruel? Ronnyn frowned. ‘I felt your gift, Sar. I would never lie to you.’
Still, his choice-brother didn’t believe him.
He caught Sardeon’s wrist, brought the tender skin to his face and opened his senses. ‘There... It’s still on your skin. See.’
For a moment it seemed his choice-brother would refuse to open his gift awareness; then he closed his eyes, and when he opened them, they blazed with hope.
Ronnyn nodded, happy for him, despite his own disappointment. ‘You dragged me into your nightmare. In the first dream, I saw a T’En girl on the beach. She was in danger. Was it Lyronyxe? You called her Lyxie.’
‘I was dreaming of her,’ he admitted. ‘I’ll try to...’ He hugged his knees, then closed his eyes.
Ronnyn watched, and waited. He wanted Sardeon to reach for his gift and find it. He wanted it so badly...
He realised it was his own gift that he wanted to find.
Sardeon frowned in concentration and his knuckles went white. If sheer force of will could have made his gift rise, then it would have.
But Ronnyn could sense nothing. His heart sank.
Sardeon let his breath out in a long sign of resignation. ‘It won’t come when I summon it. I’m still useless.’
‘Don’t say that. It’s normal for the gift to rise and fall.’ Or it had been in his experience. Sardeon shook his head with such certainty that Ronnyn asked, ‘What aren’t you telling me?’
His choice-brother looked down.
‘There should be no secrets between shield-brothers.’
‘You’re right.’ Sardeon drew him out of the cabin and into the passage, where he turned to face him, his beautiful face stark with determination. ‘You need to know the truth if we are to be true friends. I’ve been lying to you since we first met.’
Ronnyn tensed. Some he knew what was coming.
‘It’s all very well for you,’ Sardeon told him. ‘Your gift was manifesting, back on the island, but I...’ He looked down and his perfect features became a mask.
‘You lost your gift,’ Ronnyn said.
‘Yes. How did you know?’ Sardeon asked, then didn’t wait for an answer. ‘The day Lyronyxe was killed, my gift suffered a flare-out when I followed her onto the higher plane. I haven’t felt even the smallest glimmer of power for nearly five years. When my gift went dormant, I stopped growing. I’m not turning thirteen like you. I’m already seventeen. I should be with my brotherhood.’
Ronnyn stared at him, stunned. To be trapped in the body of a twelve-year-old. He shuddered.
‘I sicken you,’ Sardeon whispered. ‘I don’t blame you. I sicken me. There have been times when I thought of taking the honourable –’
‘You don’t sicken me. Your predicament frightens me,’ Ronnyn admitted, ‘but tonight I felt your gift manifest, so –’
‘Then why can’t I call it? Our gift-tutor once praised my control. She was preparing me for empowerment. Now...’
‘Ask our choice-mother’s advice. Tell her tomorrow.’
‘Tell her that I’m a liability who can’t control his gift? What if it wasn’t a dream? What if I’d dragged you onto the higher plane? What –’ Sardeon broke off. ‘You said there were two dreams?’
Ronnyn nodded. ‘In the first one I was on the beach and I saw Lyronyxe. Then I woke up and you were having a nightmare. I touched your cheek to wake you, but your dream swamped me. We were –’
‘On a formless plane. I remember now. You came after me, Ronnyn...’ He raised shocked eyes. ‘We were on the empyrean plane.’
Ronnyn’s mouth went dry. ‘Are you sure? I thought you had to be empowered and trained to segue to the higher plane.’
‘With control, yes. But it can happen by accident. All it takes is a gift surge and you don’t need training. The day Lyronyxe died, I followed her, looking for her shade. Tonight...’ Sardeon clutched his arm. ‘I could have gotten us both killed.’
Ronnyn squeezed his hand. ‘But you didn’t. We came back safe and your gift has manifested.’
‘When I’m asleep and unable to control it. What good is a gift I can’t harness? It’s worse than no gift at all. At least if my gift was dead, I couldn’t be dragged onto the empyrean plane.’
‘You must tell our choice-mother.’
Sardeon pulled away from him.
‘Why not? She’ll be pleased.’
‘I have no control. She’ll be disappointed in me. I’ll tell her when I can...’ He succumbed to a jaw-cracking yawn and frowned. ‘Why am I so tired? I can hardly think.’
Ronnyn wasn’t surprised. The first few times his gift had surged beyond his control, he’d been exhausted afterwards. Come to think of it, he was tired now. That last dream had really taken it out of him. ‘Go to sleep. Things will look better in the morning.’
‘I’ve had nearly five years of mornings, and it hasn’t improved.’ But even as he said this, Sardeon yawned again. Somehow, he even managed to yawn elegantly.
Ronnyn slid an arm around his choice-brother and led him back to their bedrolls. ‘Go to sleep. I’ll wake you if you have a nightmare.’
‘Thank you.’ Sardeon tried to keep his eyes open. He frowned. ‘I don’t know why you’re such a good friend to me.’
‘You think too much.’
A weary smile tugged at Sardeon’s lips. His eyes shut and stayed that way, but he still fought sleep. ‘You’re a true friend. I tried to be a true friend to Lyronyxe, but I failed. Sometimes I dream that I saved her and we’re together, and I’m so happy. Then I wake up and it’s like I’ve lost her all over again. I don’t think I can live with the pain.’
‘Sleep,’ Ronnyn whispered, tears stinging his eyes.
‘I shouldn’t let you talk about your Malaunje sisters, but...’ – Sardeon’s voice was the merest thread – ‘at least you can still see them.’
Ronnyn lay beside his choice-brother, fighting the weariness until he was sure Sardeon slept. In time, he believed that Sardeon’s gift would rise to his conscious control. But a gift out of control was a dangerous thing.
He decided he would tell their choice-mother. At that moment, the exhaustion won and he let it.
Chapter Thirty-Four
D
AWN FOUND
T
OBAZIM
studying the sea-vermin sails. There were more of them. ‘But you said they rarely attack en-masse.’
‘That’s right.’ Ardonyx accepted the spy-glass as Tobazim returned it. ‘And they prey on each other when pickings are slim. Why, there must be seven or eight who call themselves sea-kings. They don’t trust each other but...’
‘But?’ Tobazim prompted.