The Palace of Impossible Dreams (28 page)

Desperately, Tiji stuck two fingers in her throat, trying to purge her body of the poison. It was useless. Not only did she not know how long it had been since she'd swallowed it, the fact that her eyesight was already going meant the toxins were well on the way to doing their job.

Wood alcohol.
Tiji knew little about it except that it could kill you.

She heard something that sounded like a struggle and more footsteps, which seemed to be getting louder. Lacking even the strength to hold herself up on her hands and knees, Tiji collapsed into the sticky mess that was the broken bottle of tonic, not caring that it made her eyes water,

“Tides!” she thought she heard someone exclaim as they came into the room, perhaps the Glaeban woman. “Is this another one of your
patients
?”

“Leave her be, Kady,” she heard the feline say. “She'll be dead soon enough.”

The human woman must have ignored her. Tiji felt gentle hands turning her over, and then a horrified gasp . . .

“
Tiji
?”

And that was the last thing she heard before the blackness took away her pain.

Arkady shook the little Crasii urgently, trying to revive her, but she'd lapsed into unconsciousness. Her silver skin was grey and dull and her breathing was already beginning to labour.

“Did you dose this one, too?” Arkady demanded of Cydne, her eyes filled with unshed tears. She couldn't conceive of what might have brought Tiji to this place. Torn with guilt that she might be here now, infected with swamp fever and dying of wood alcohol poisoning, because the little Crasii had somehow managed to follow her, Arkady scooped Tiji up in her arms and carried her to one of the pallets they'd set up for human patients.

Cydne stood watching her, hands on his hips, his eye watering from the reek of the spilled tonic. He was furious she'd broken the remaining bottles of tonic, and fairly sputtering with indignation over a sick Crasii being placed in a human bed. “You can't put her there!”

“The Tide take you, Cydne Medura,” she said, not even bothering to look at him. She focused her attention on Tiji, ignoring the pain from the deep scratches Jojo had inflicted on her face and shoulder while trying to stop her breaking the rest of the bottles. Concentrating on the little chameleon also meant she didn't have to continue the body-count she had going in the back of her head, listing all the Crasii she'd smilingly dosed with Cydne's deadly tonic these past few weeks.

“Do you know this creature?” Jojo asked. Despite attacking Arkady on Cydne's command, she seemed to hold no ill-will toward her fellow slave.

“She used to belong to a friend of mine.” Arkady rolled Tiji on her side, unsure what else she could do for her. It was one thing to recall the symptoms of wood-alcohol poisoning, quite another to remember if there was a cure. She was fairly certain there wasn't one, because she remembered that the miner her father treated who had the same symptoms had died a slow and painful death, as had poor Pedy less than an hour ago.

“You're not going to leave her to die there!” Cydne was insisting behind them.

Arkady behaved as if he wasn't in the room. She might be a slave, but she wasn't going to be a willing accomplice to any more murders.

“Did you hear what I said?” he demanded, all but stamping his foot in frustration at her continued defiance.

“Are you the doctor?”

They both looked up at the voice. Arkady hadn't noticed the door was still open. Neither had Cydne, it seemed.

Jojo inexplicably dropped to her knees.

“Come back later,” Cydne snapped at the young human girl standing in the doorway. She was dark-skinned, dressed in a plain, undyed sleeveless tunic and looked no more than seventeen. “We're not seeing any more people for the time being.”

“Perhaps the good doctor would see
me
?”

Another woman stepped out from behind the girl, followed by an older woman, who seemed to be in her thirties. But it was the second woman that drew Arkady's eye. She was stunning. Fair-skinned, with pale eyes and long blonde hair that reached down past her waist, she had a presence about her that marked her as someone not to be trifled with. Like the dark-skinned girl, the women wore simple homespun tunics, but that did nothing to detract from their inherent nobility. Jojo lowered her forehead to the floor.

“Get up,” Cydne said to the feline, kicking her with his boot. Then he turned to their visitors. “I beg your pardon, madam,” he said, realising he was in the presence of humans who might be of the same class as himself. “I thought your servant . . .”

“Medwen is not my servant,” the woman said. “You are the doctor from Port Traeker who's been so generously treating the Crasii with his tonic, are you not?”

“I am.”

“I'm interested in what miraculous ingredients you've discovered that can cure something as devastating as swamp fever.”

“If you're looking for something to treat a member of your own family, my lady . . .” Cydne said, looking a little puzzled. “It's not good for humans, though—”

“It's not that good for Crasii, either,” the older woman cut in. “Unless of course you're either ignorant beyond comprehension, or
trying
to kill them.”

Arkady glanced down at Tiji, relieved to see she hadn't worsened in the last few moments, and then looked to Cydne to see what he'd do. The doctor said nothing, which could have been guilt or it might have been simply because his accusers were all women and Cydne really wasn't that good at dealing with women.

“It's poison,” Arkady confessed, as Cydne seemed to have been struck mute. “I gather it's all part of the Senestran Physicians' Guild's grand plans to prevent swamp fever reaching the cities. Kill it at the source.”

The women turned to look at her. “Who are you?”

“I'm his
makor-di.
He's had me doling that wretched tonic out like new-year's ale ever since we got here. I only just realised what it is. So I broke the rest of the bottles.”

The blonde woman glanced down at the sticky puddle on the floor and then nodded to the dark girl, who headed into the house to look for proof Arkady was telling the truth. The older woman pushed past Cydne and came to stand by the bed. Jojo hadn't moved from her prostrated position on the floor.

The blonde woman glanced down at Tiji and shook her head. “Tides, it's the Lost One Azquil brought back on his last trip.”

“Is she dead?” the dark girl asked as she came back from checking the rest of the house.

“Not yet.”

“There's another crate of the stuff out back, but the slave was telling the truth. All the bottles are broken.”

“Who are you people?” Cydne demanded, finally finding his voice. “You can't just barge in here like this. I am a member of the Senestran Physicians' Guild! Jojo!”

The feline made no move to respond to Cydne's command, which Arkady thought was extremely odd.

“You are a contract killer,” the blonde woman said to Cydne. “And we are the Trinity. I am Arryl, this is Ambria and this is Medwen. We protect the Crasii and deal out justice to those who would harm them.”

Tides
 . . .
Arryl, Ambria and Medwen
 . . .
No wonder Jojo has been struck dumb
 . . .

“You're immortals,” Arkady blurted out before she could stop herself.

Arryl turned to look at her, clearly surprised. “You've
heard
of us?”

Arkady nodded mutely, not sure how she was going to explain how she knew of them.

Fortunately, Arryl didn't seem interested in explanations. “Then you'll know I'm serious when I tell you that your little expedition into the wetlands to spare the human population of the cities from swamp fever by murdering every likely Crasii carrier has earned you more than our enmity. It has
earned you as slow and painful a death as you have inflicted on countless innocent Crasii until we discovered the true purpose of your tonic.”

“I beg your pardon!” Cydne cried indignantly. “You can't do that. I'm a doctor. I'm a member of the Medura House—”

“You're a common murderer,” Medwen, the dark-skinned girl said with contempt.

Despite the death sentence just passed on Cydne, Arkady couldn't help but stare. This was the immortal Cayal had once slept with; he'd once posed as her husband. The one he claimed he had a soft spot for. And the exquisite Arryl . . . she was the one who'd rescued Cayal in Magreth and taken him to the Temple of the Tide where he was eventually made immortal . . .

“When the guild hear about this . . .”

“You'll have been dead for several weeks,” Ambria finished for him. “Both of you.”

“But I had no idea what he was doing!” Arkady protested, dragging her attention back to Arryl as she realised these people intended to punish her along with Cydne. “As soon as I found out, I destroyed the rest of the tonic.” And then she added thoughtlessly, “Tides, I'm only here because Brynden is furious at Cayal and wanted to hurt him so he sold me into slavery in Torlenia.”

The three women turned to consider her. Arkady couldn't ever remember feeling so intimidated.

“You've met Brynden and Cayal?” Medwen asked icily.

Well, that's not the reaction I was expecting.

“More to the point, you're a bone of contention between them?” Ambria asked with a frown.

Arkady was beginning to wish she'd kept her mouth shut. She nodded warily. “Not on purpose . . .”

“Kady, what are they talking about. Do you know these people? Tell them who I am!”

“You are a dead man,” Medwen informed him. “As is your
makor-di.
”

“What about the feline?” Ambria asked.

Arryl looked down at the prostrate Jojo and shook her head. “She wasn't the one serving the tonic.”

“To serve you is the reason I breathe, my lady,” Jojo muttered.

“The poor creature is Crasii. She lacks the free will to be responsible
for her actions.” Arryl turned to the crowed gathered at the door. “Leave the feline. Only the humans are to be punished.”

Arkady looked at the immortals in horror. “But I'm innocent!”

“That's as may be,” Ambria said. “However, by your own admission, you are also likely to bring either Cayal or Brynden to our shores. With the Tide on the rise, we'd prefer they remained in ignorance of where we are—”

“I wouldn't tell!”

“And we intend to make sure of it.” Arryl turned and spoke to someone over her shoulder. “Take them to the Justice Tree.”

While they'd been talking, a crowd had gathered on the veranda. Made up mostly of Crasii from the village, they were led by a young male Crasii who pushed into the room and hurried to the bed as soon as he arrived. He fell to his knees beside Tiji, his expression distraught.

“Tides, Tiji, why didn't you wait for me?” he said, stroking her dull grey scales. And then he looked to Arryl with pleading eyes. “Can you save her, my lady?”

“I can try, Azquil,” Arryl replied. “But the Tide's not peaked yet and she may be too far gone . . .”

“Do whatever you can, my lady.” He leaned forward to kiss Tiji's pallid forehead. Then he rose to his feet and turned to look at the others, his expression hardening. “I'll take care of these two. Take them!” Before Arkady could further protest her innocence, a number of other chameleon Crasii bustled into the small front room and grabbed the two human prisoners. Azquil glanced down at Jojo with a frown. “We should destroy the feline too, my lady.”

Arryl shook her head. “She's not to blame for this.”

“But she's a feline. Her kind would kill us, soon as look at us. She can't stay here.”

“Get up,” Arryl ordered.

Jojo rose to her feet without hesitation.

“You live because we choose to let you live,” the immortal told her. “But your kind are not welcome in the wetlands. You must leave now and not return. Do you understand?”

“To serve you is the reason I breathe,” Jojo repeated, as if she'd lost the ability to say anything else.

“You can't order my slaves around!” Cydne protested uselessly, as he struggled against the Crasii tying his hands behind his back.

Oh, yes they can
, Arkady might have told him, had she been feeling a little more generous toward him, as her hands were similarly bound.
This is the danger of the Tide Lords. Every Crasii on Amyrantha is theirs to command.

But Jojo's fate was no longer her concern. As soon as their hands were secure, they dragged Arkady and Cydne from the cottage toward the centre of the town, accompanied by a murderous mob. Cydne complained loudly and indignantly as they pulled him along beside her. Arkady wasn't sure he fully appreciated either the enormity of his crime or that this mob was serious in their intent to seek justice for his malfeasance.

Arkady was under no such illusions. Arryl was immortal and for all that she obviously had more compassion than most other immortals Arkady had met, she knew neither Arryl, Medwen nor Ambria would balk at removing a threat to their peacefully hidden existence.

“When my father hears about my treatment here . . .” Cydne was ranting, as if the threat of some irate human from Port Traeker these Crasii had never heard of would even dent the sensibilities of this mob of grieving mothers, fathers, husbands, wives, sons and daughters . . .

“Cydne, shut up.”

They finally came to a tree, a massive, ancient palm located on the very edge of the main channel some distance from the village proper. Decades of having its large leaves harvested for shelter and twine had left behind a trunk covered with sawn-off branch ends honed to savage points, stained dark with the blood of generations of previous miscreants. Arkady cried out as someone pushed her against the tree, the spikes cutting into her flesh everywhere they touched. Her arms were pulled over her head and bound to the trunk above her.