Read The Last Of The Wilds Online

Authors: Trudi Canavan

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Romance, #Magic, #Fantasy, #Young Adult, #Adventure, #Epic, #Religion

The Last Of The Wilds (41 page)

BOOK: The Last Of The Wilds
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Tyve landed just as Wilar emerged from the bower. The Dreamweaver did not look at Tyve, but glanced around at the other bowers.

He does that all the time now
, Tyve thought.
Always looking for Auraya
. Tyve had taken messages back and forth between the Dreamweaver and the White all morning. The two landwalkers hadn’t spoken to each other since she arrived.
They don’t appear to like each other, and Wilar seems annoyed that she is here. I wonder… should I ask him about it? I get the feeling it’s not something he wants to discuss. And I don’t think I should ask a White such personal questions, though she seems friendly
.

Tyve took a step toward Wilar, then stopped as a wave of dizziness upset his balance. He drew in a deep breath, but it didn’t help. Something caught in his lungs and suddenly he was coughing.

“Tyve. Sit down.”

Steady hands held him as the world spun around him. He sank to his knees. The urge to cough gradually subsided, but the discomfort was replaced by dread. He looked up at Wilar.

“I’ve got it, haven’t I?”

Wilar nodded, his mouth set in a grim line. “Looks like it. Don’t worry. I’m not going to let you die.”

Tyve nodded. “I’m not worried.” In fact, he wasn’t as frightened as he thought he’d be. It helped that he understood more about the sickness and knew he’d probably survive it What he felt most was disappointment.

“I can’t help you any more, can I? I’ll spread the disease to others.”

“No, but not for that reason. There’s not one family here that doesn’t have a sick member now so there’s not much chance anyone is going to escape it. We just had to slow down the spread in order to have time to treat them all.”

“So I
can
help you?”

“No. You’re going to lose strength rapidly. What if you passed out in mid-flight? You might drop to your death.”

Tyve shuddered. “It’s good Auraya’s here, then, or you’d have no helpers.”

The Dreamweaver’s lips twisted into a crooked smile.

“I’m not sure she’d make a good helper. The White aren’t good at taking orders, except from their gods.”

There was bitterness as well as humor in his voice. Tyve felt himself flush at his mistake.

“I meant Auraya can help—”

“I know what you meant,” Wilar assured him. He looked away and sighed. “Your village needs all the help it can get. The drawbacks of having her here are mine alone. The damage, if any, is done. For now…” He turned back to regard Tyve again. “For now I need to find another messenger. Do you have the strength to fly back to your family’s bower, Tyve?”

Tyve considered. “It’s downward a little. I can get there mostly by gliding.” He rose, took a few steps and turned. No dizziness bothered him. “Yes, I can make it.”

“Good. Go there and rest. Sent Reet to me when he wakes up—if he is well.”

Tyve moved to the edge of the platform. He glanced back to find Wilar watching him closely. “Perhaps when you come to treat me, you can tell me how I can become a healer.”

Wilar’s eyes brightened, though he did not smile. “Perhaps. Don’t expect Auraya to like the idea, however.”

“Why not?”

The Dreamweaver shook his head. “I will tell you later. Now go, before I come and push you off myself.”

Tyve grinned. Turning away, he leaned forward, stretched his arms out and felt the rush of air over his wings as he glided away.

29

I mi eyed the platter and decided, regretfully, that she could not eat another mouthful. She looked at the servant standing nearby and gave a little dismissive wave at the food—a gesture she had seen Imenja make. The woman stepped forward, picked up the tray, bowed, and carried it away.

Imi sighed contentedly and sank back into the pool. She was feeling much better now. It wasn’t just the food and the salty water. These black-robed people were so nice to her. It felt much better to not be frightened all the time.

The flap of the tent opened. Golden light from a setting sun silhouetted a familiar female form. Imi sat up and smiled as Imenja walked to the edge of the pool.

“Hello, Princess Imi,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better.”

“Are you strong enough to walk?”

Imi looked at her in surprise.
Walk?
Imi flexed her leg muscles.
I probably could, if we didn’t go too far
.

“I could give it a try,” she said.

“I’d like to take you somewhere. It’s not far,” Imenja told her. “First Voice Nekaun, the leader of my people, wishes to meet you. Would you like that?”

Imi nodded. She was a king’s daughter. It made sense that the leader of this land would want to meet her. But her eagerness withered as she imagined herself meeting this important man. Suddenly she wished she was older and more grown up. What should she say? What
shouldn’t
she say? Nobody had ever taught her how to behave around other countries’ leaders.

I guess father didn‘t think I’d ever have to.

Slowly she got her feet under her and stood up. Her legs felt a little weak, but no worse than when she had first been in the raiders’ ship. She stepped over the edge of the pool onto the dry pavement, then looked expectantly at Imenja. The woman smiled and offered her hand. Imi took it and they walked out of the tent side by side.

The courtyard looked no different to how it had when she had first arrived, except now it was nearly night. Imenja led her to a balcony on one side and through an open door. The interior was cool. Pools of light from lamps filled a long corridor. They walked down this to some stairs. The climb was short, but Imi found herself breathing hard by the time she reached the top. Imenja paused by an alcove to tell Imi about the special technique used to make the carving inside it. When they moved on, Imi was able to breathe properly again.

Another corridor followed. Stopping at a large, arched doorway, Imenja gestured inside. “The First Voice is waiting in here,” she murmured. “Shall we go in?”

Imi nodded. They stepped through the doorway into a large room with a domed ceiling. Imi drew in a quick breath in amazement.

The roof, floor and ceiling were painted in vibrant colors. The dome was blue with clouds and birds and even some odd-looking Siyee. The walls were different landscapes, and the floor was half garden, half water. Pictures of landwalkers in gardens and houses, travelling in boats or being carried by slaves, were everywhere. Animals both familiar and ordinary, unfamiliar and fantastic, occupied gardens, forests, seas and rivers. Imi looked closer and saw that the pictures and designs were actually made up of countless tiny fragments of a shiny substance.

Hearing a sound, she looked up and jumped as she saw that a man was standing in the center of the room. Dressed in the same black robes as Imenja’s, he was admiring the pictures, but as Imi noticed him he looked up and smiled.

“Greetings, Princess Imi,” he said in a warm, pleasant voice. “I am Nekaun, First Voice of the Gods.”

Not knowing what to say, she copied his manner of speaking. “Greetings, Nekaun, First Voice of the Gods. I am Imi, Princess of the Elai.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Better,” she said.

He nodded and his eyes seemed to twinkle like stars. “I am glad to hear it,” he told her. “I was going to visit you tonight, but I thought it might be more pleasant, if you were strong enough, to show you this place. There is something here I think you may find interesting.” He beckoned.

She walked toward him, concentrating on being dignified and all too conscious of her large feet and hands.

“I’ve only recovered thanks to Imenja and Reivan,” she told him as she reached his side. “And thanks to yourself, for allowing me to stay here.”

He met her eyes and nodded, his expression grave. “I must apologize for the ill treatment you suffered before Imenja found you.”

She frowned. “But that was not your fault.”

“Ah, but I do bear some of the responsibility for what happens to visitors in my lands. When the laws we make to discourage wrong-doings fail, then we have failed too.”

Her father would probably feel the same way if a visitor was harmed by his people for no reason—especially an important visitor. She decided she liked this man. He was kind and treated her with respect, as if she were an adult.

“Then I thank you for your apology,” she said, wondering at how grown-up she was sounding. “What do you want to show me?” she asked.

He pointed at the floor. “Do not be offended; it is the fancy of an artist who had never seen your people.”

She looked down. They were standing on a picture of the sea, shown from above on a day so still the water was perfectly clear. Fish filled the blue space, some swimming on their sides to show off their colors. Corals and weeds grew inaccurately from the edge of the shore. At their feet was a landwalker woman with a fish tail instead of legs. Her hair was a pale yellow color, and it swirled around her body to hide her breasts and groin.

This is what they think we look like?
A giggle escaped her and she quickly covered her mouth.

Nekaun chuckled. “Yes, it is very silly. Few landwalkers have ever seen Elai. All they know is that you live in the sea, so they imagine you are half-fish, half-human.” He shook his head. “That is why the man who bought you treated you as something less than human.”

She nodded, though she didn’t understand why this drawing would make a person think another person wasn’t human. Surely if they had fingers, wore clothes and could talk they were human. She had never mistaken a landwalker or Siyee for an animal.

Nekaun took a step to one side. “Come this way. There is something else I want to show you.”

Imi walked beside him as he strolled toward a doorway in one of the walls. Imenja followed a few steps behind.

“People of other lands believe strange things about my people as well,” he told her. “They see that we keep a few slaves so they assume we enslave anyone we wish. We only enslave criminals. To enslave an innocent is a serious crime. The punishment is slavery. The man who bought you was not of this land, but he knew the law.”

“Is that what happened to him? Was he enslaved?”

“Yes.”

She nodded to herself. Her father would approve.

“We have other customs foreigners misunderstand. Some of our rites require that we respect the privacy of the participants. Because we keep these secrets, foreigners think the rites must be of a disgusting or immoral kind.” He looked at her, his expression sad. “Remember this, if you hear such rumors about us from other landwalkers.”

Imi nodded. If any other landwalkers told her Nekaun’s people were bad, she would tell them otherwise.

They passed through the door into a plainer room. The pictures on the walls were of groups of people. Each contained a man, a woman and a child. Each wore slightly different clothing and had different skin and hair coloring. One family had large feathered wings. Suddenly she understood why the Siyee in the other room had looked odd to her. She put a hand to her mouth.

“Yes,” Nekaun said, though she hadn’t made a noise this time. “We only recently learned how wrong that picture is. I’m considering whether to have it fixed or not.” He looked down. “Though that is not what I brought you in here to see. Look down. This floor design is a map of all Ithania.”

She did as he said and drew in a breath of wonder. Large shapes floated in the center of a blue floor. The shapes were filled with pictures of mountains, lakes, strange cities open to the air and dry roads between them. Nekaun pointed at a large shape like a spearhead.

“That is Southern Ithania.” He walked over it to the place where the spearhead shape met a much larger shape and pointed the toe of his sandal at a city. “This is where we are: Glymma.”

“Where is Borra?”

“I don’t know exactly. I was hoping you could tell me.”

She shook her head. “I’ve never seen the world from above. It’s all… I’ve never seen something like this before.”

He frowned. “Then we may not be able to return you to your home as quickly as we hoped.”

“Why don’t you ask the raiders where they found me?”

He chuckled. “If only we could, but we have seen no sign of them in Glymma’s port. Either they left after selling you, or news of your rescue and the trouble it caused your buyer warned them to keep away. We need you to tell us where your home is, Imi.”

She examined the map closely, looking for anything familiar. Pictures of Siyee in an area covered in mountains caught her eye. She moved to the coastline. Si was a few days’ swim from Borra.

“Somewhere in the ocean south of Si,” she told him.

“South is that direction,” he said, indicating.

Looking at the vast area of blue, she felt her heart sink.

There weren’t any islands marked. How was she supposed to tell them where Borra was if it wasn’t on the map?
But of course it isn‘t on the map
, she thought.
If it was they wouldn’t have to ask me to find it!

“Have your people met the Siyee?” Imenja asked.

Imi looked up at the woman and nodded. “We trade with them.”

“Would they know where your home is?”

“Maybe. If they don’t, I could wait with them until the next visit by Elai traders. I… I don’t know how often they travel there.” Imi looked down at the map and felt a pang of longing. She had come so far, and now she was free to go home she wasn’t sure how to get there.

“Then that is what we shall do,” Imenja said.

Imi felt hope returning. “Will we?”

“Yes. We’ll get you home, Imi,” Nekaun assured her. “As soon as we can. Imenja says you’ll be recovered enough to leave in a few days.”

She looked up at him eagerly. “That soon?”

Nekaun smiled. “Yes. Imenja will take you on one of our ships. She will do everything she can to reunite you with your father and your people.”

Blinking back tears, Imi smiled at Imenja and Nekaun, overwhelmed by gratitude.

“Thank you,” she breathed. “Thank you so much.”

The man’s breathing was painfully labored. Auraya sat back on her heels and let out a long breath. She had expected a stronger version of Hearteater, but not one this virulent. Every member of the tribe was or had been seriously ill. Some had overcome the worst of it, but only with help from Leiard.

BOOK: The Last Of The Wilds
11.59Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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