Outcast Chronicles - Sanctuary Part 64

Sorne waited until they'd reached the top floor and another door before attempting conversation. *What is your area of study, Venerable Uda?'

*Most Venerable,' one of the lantern bearers corrected. From his protective tone, Sorne suspected he was her student. *The Most Venerables are the Heads of Halls. Ven Uda is the Head of the Halls of Philosophy.'

*Apologies, Ven Uda.' Sorne gave the obeisance of contrition. *What does the Most Venerable of the philosophers teach?'

*I teach how to think. If we cannot think logically, we cannot begin to make sense of the world.'

*So you seek to make sense of the world?'

*In as far as it is possible for our minds to grasp.'

He had the impression she was amused, but whether it was by him or her indignant student, he could not tell. The veils revealed only the mouth and chin, hiding the eyes which usually revealed so much.

Ven Uda gestured to the door and the servant opened it.

Sorne stepped out onto the wall-walk, and a view that took his breath away. They were perched high above the silvered bay. Beyond it the sea stretched to the horizon. Much closer, around the edge of the bay, light spilled from doorways and windows in the port. *It's...'

*Isn't it?' she agreed. *You must bring T'Imoshen up here. When will she arrive?'

*I'm not sure. I lost track of the days in the sea-vermin cellar.'

*We'll see what tomorrow brings. This way.' She led him along the wall. It followed the ridge, which was roughly triangular in shape, and higher at the southern base. He was headed north to the lower point of the triangle but even here, the walls were high and they rose straight up from the ridge. King Charald would approve; it was eminently defensible.

The hooded lanterns illuminated the wall-walk under their feet, but the moons illuminated the night beyond the wall.

*As you can see' a" Ven Uda gestured to their right, where the wall dropped four storeys, before the ridge fell away into the countryside a" *the Halls of Learning hold an enviable position.'

He could see why they were giving him this tour.

*And on our left, safe behind our walls, are the Halls of Learning themselves. For hundreds of years we have guided the minds of the greatest thinkers and military advisors to kings. Mainland royal families and great merchant families send their best and brightest to study under us. So you can see, although we live out here on the rim of the world, we keep in touch with every corner of the mainland.'

As they had reached the end of the wall-walk, he noticed there was another tabletop ridge to the north. It was almost as high as this one, but posed no threat as the distance was too great to span. The Sagoras were right to think their eyrie impregnable.

Looking south, the halls and the Sagoras' private walled city were laid out before him. All spires and domes, the hidden city reminded him of the Celestial City.

*This way.' Ven Uda went south along the wall which gradually climbed, in a succession of long steps, towards the triangle's base. *On our right, you see the fertile plains of Ivernia, stretching all the way to the mountains. North and south of us we have alliances with the city-states that rule those provinces.'

There was enough moonlight for him to make out a chequerboard of fields, farms, sinuous rivers coming down from the mountains making their way to the sea, glinting silver.

Whether they knew it or not, the Sagoras were in the same position as the Wyrds had been. If they were besieged, then their lands and people were vulnerable. An army could live well off these fertile southern plains. In fact, they could simply move in, set up their homes, subdue any incursions from the provinces to the north and south, and ignore the Sagoras.

But he was not leading King Charald's army, intent on carving a kingdom for himself. He was the T'Enatuath amba.s.sador, representing barely two thousand survivors. And they were frighteningly vulnerable.

*Ah, the Sagora Seven are ready,' Ven Uda said.

Sorne turned around to see someone with a lantern, signalling from the street below. They went down the steep steps and were escorted into one of the buildings to a verandah, overlooking a courtyard.

The smell struck him. Vaguely familiar, feral and effulgent, it made his heart race. The primordial part of his brain screamed danger and he turned to Ven Uda. *What is this a" ?'

A strange, raw scream split the night. He felt for his sword, but of course his only weapons were his wits and his words.

*Be still, it is not what you think,' Ven Uda whispered.

A moment later her students removed the hoods from their lanterns as they hung them at each end of the verandah to reveal three of the Sagora Seven. There was no sign of Merchant Sahia.

In place of veils, the Sagorese leaders wore extraordinary masks. With their arms folded, hands tucked under their long, full sleeves, they were even more of an enigma than their fellow Sagoras.

Each stylised mask was a work of art, representing a creature from the natural world, its features picked out in swirling striations of different metals, embossed to represent fur or scales and embedded with jewels. One mask was based on a peac.o.c.k, its crest picked out in finest filigree silver. Brilliant enamelled plates represented the peac.o.c.k's eyes. Another was a feathered cat, and its tufted ears moved in response to sounds. The last was a serpent, covered in iridescent scales. Delicate wings fanned out behind its head. The work was so exquisite Sorne longed to study each mask in detail. As it was, he had to take them in at glance.

He made the deep obeisance. *Amba.s.sador Sorne, representing Causare T'Imoshen of the T'Enatuath. Thank you for seeing me. I also have to thank Merchant Sahia for coming to our rescue.'

*Yes, we heard you'd had an eventful voyage,' the feathered cat said.

Another woman. Sorne's mind raced. Had they thought he would be disarmed? Or, did they think that since Wyrd women were more powerful than men, he would instinctively obey a woman?

The woman in the feathered cat mask inclined her head. *I am House Felinii.'

Sorne bowed, then turned to the serpent-masked Sagora.

*House Vulpii.' His voice was deep and rich.

Sorne gave him the obeisance of greeting then turned to the peac.o.c.k.

*House Pavoii.' Her voice was clipped and formal. Sorne had the feeling she did not like him.

He bowed. *Forgiveness, but what is that smell?'

*Come and see.' Felinii beckoned.

All the Sagoras went to the edge of the verandah and Sorne joined them. He made out cages and realised it was... *A menagerie.'

*Exactly,' Felinii said. *These are the Halls of Beasts, where we study the animal kingdom.'

As she finished speaking, lanterns were lowered so that the caged beasts were illuminated. At one end was an aviary that ran the height of the two-storey building. Disturbed by the light, all manner of birds fluttered about, calling and screeching.

This set off the beasts below. Sorne spotted two silver-backed wolves from the high southern mountains, a crested bear and a nest of snakes, scales glinting in the light. But it was the prowling panther which attracted his gaze. It was directly below them and it knew they were up here. This was what had screamed and this was what smelled so bad.

*It's a female and she's in heat,' Sorne said. He'd once seen King Charald throw an arrogant captive in a pit with a panther. After that, the rest of the captives had cooperated.

*We've sent away for a mate,' Felinii said. *But panthers are lone hunters. She may think the male is trying to take over her territory and tear him to shreds.'

Sorne swallowed, not sure if he had interpreted their meaning correctly. *That would be a pity when the male seeks only something to their mutual benefit.'

*How can she be sure?' Pavoii countered. She gestured sharply.

Metal clanged and a lamb bleated. The panther stopped prowling. Sorne saw there was a pa.s.sage between the cages. A keeper had put the lamb into the pa.s.sage and closed the outer gate. He knew what was coming. He'd seen worse.

The panther's cage door slid open. It slunk into the pa.s.sage. The crested bear reared to its full height and gave its distinctive trumpeting growl. Next thing Sorne knew, the panther was dragging the dead lamb into its cage and the door clanged shut.

*Such is the nature of beasts,' Sorne said, turning back to the three Sagora leaders. *But we are not beasts. The T'Enatuath seek sanctuary, nothing more.'

*So you say. Tell the causare we will deal with her and no one else,' Pavoii said. Again, she signalled and this time a servant arrived with a lantern.

Sorne had been dismissed. If they would not negotiate with him, why had they agreed to this meeting?

He was taken back to the s.h.i.+p, where there was no sign of Merchant Sahia. As he lit a lamp and stripped in his cabin, he heard scratching at his door and opened it up to find Tiasely, accompanied by several teary children.

*They would not sleep until they knew you'd come back,' she said.

He spread a blanket on the floor and lay down. The children settled around him like puppies, snuffling and wriggling until they were comfortable.

*You don't mind?' Tiasely asked. *I did almost have them asleep, but when the Sagoras came a"'

*What Sagoras?'

*After you left, several Sagoras came to see us. They brought toys and treats. They told stories and played games and got the children all excited. Then I couldn't get this lot back to sleep.'

So that was why they'd agreed to see him. The Sagoras wanted to question the children. Guessing rightly, he suspected, that the youngsters would reveal what they wanted to know.

*Did the Sagoras ask questions?'

Tiasely nodded and knelt on the floor near the door. *They asked us how we'd come to be captured and how you saved us. They asked so many questions...' She shrugged and yawned. *Our people will arrive soon, won't they? And then we'll have a new home.'

*Yes.' He sincerely hoped so.

After Tiasely returned to the children's cabin, Sorne stared at the ceiling. He wasn't sure what the Sagoras hoped to learn from the children, but he suspected it was how desperate his people were.

The Sagoras had put on a display of strength and gauged his people's strength... it could only mean one thing. They wanted to negotiate. This meant they wanted something from the Wyrds, wanted it enough to try to intimidate him before negotiations started.

IMOSHEN DIPPED HER fingers in the scented water and bathed her face, hands and feet. Formal gift-working required ceremony and the execution of one of their own required the most solemn of ceremonies. She placed a hand on Egrayne's shoulder as her voice-of-reason dried her feet.

Egryane stood, folded the cloth and placed it on a tray. The purification over, it was time to begin.

But as Imoshen went to step forward, Egrayne caught her arm.

*Make it quick. Take her straight to the higher plane and leave her there. The empyrean predators will feast on her power. And...' a" Egrayne's hand tightened on her arm a" *whatever you do, don't lose concentration. If you do, her gift will feed on your power, gain in strength. It could infect you.'

Imoshen nodded. Tonight, she was pure purpose.

Egrayne kissed her forehead. *Do this because it needs to be done. Do it without faltering and come back safe to us, because we need you.'

Reoden met Imoshen's eyes across the high rear-deck, the scryer's body between them. More than Imoshen's life was at risk here tonight. If the healer was not strong enough to control her gift's instinct to preserve life and sever the link she shared with her scryer, she would be dragged onto the higher plane as well.

Reoden nodded once, her meaning clear. Do what I can't do.

No one spoke. Imoshen knelt by the scryer's head. Despite being in the open air, the gift-corruption was so strong Imoshen felt nauseous.

She centred herself, lowered her defences, placed her fingertips on the scryer's temples and reached...

The scryer's gift sank its claws into her. Discovering that Imoshen's power was not defended, the gift severed the connection with Reoden and sought to link with Imoshen.

The moment the connection to Reoden was closed, Imoshen segued to the higher plane. There was nothing gentle about it. The move was brutal and abrupt.

And she was lost.

Normally, the higher plane was bone-numbingly cold. Normally, she would impose form on it, but the scryer's gift had been ascendant over hers at the moment of change and so it had shaped the plane.

Everything was formless and confused. Shapes flickered around Imoshen, s.n.a.t.c.hes of conversation, a laugh, music...

She sensed something move behind her and spun around, expecting one of the empyrean predators. It was her choice-son, Iraayel. He opened a window. And just like that, they were in a high tower. All she could see past his shoulder was clear blue sky.

It was Iraayel, but not as she knew him. This was the adult Iraayel, in full control of his gift. He radiated anger, which was directed at her.

*If that's how you feel, then there's no more to be said.' He turned his back on her and walked out.

She could not believe it. Iraayel would never turn against her.

She felt his rejection to the core.

Devastated, her concentration wavered.

In desperation, she refocused and segued onto... the higher plane. Immediately, she felt the cold in her bones.

Then where had that last place been?

The only explanation was that she'd ridden the scryer's gift, which revealed a future where Iraayel would turn on her.

She refused to believe it.

In this moment of distraction, the gift-enhanced essence that was the scryer escaped from her.

On the empyrean plane, the T'En shaped themselves. In this case, the scryer was not in control of her gift, and shattered into a dozen shadowy creatures. Part cat, part mongoose, they screamed like newborns, terrified and indignant. And Imoshen recognised them as scraelings.

Did this mean the beasts that hunted them on the empyrean plane were products of their own misfortune?

She stared in horror as the scraelings fought and hissed amongst themselves, utterly vulnerable to the predators of the empyrean plane.

She could have left then, but she didn't. She wanted to make it quick, so she let her power flare to attract the hungry predators. The scraelings circled her, curious and growing bolder by the moment.

She had hoped there would be a moment's peace at the end for the scryer, a moment when she recovered her senses, but it was not to be. Lysitzi had degraded to these feral creatures, which hunted Imoshen and were in turn hunted. Already something large and dangerous had reached the crest of the nearest dune.

Imoshen recognised her surroundings.

Shocked by the future Iraayel's betrayal, she had come home to the lighthouse island of her childhood. In the west, the island had been cliffs and cras.h.i.+ng waves, while the eastern sh.o.r.e had been silken dunes and sheltered inlets. And it was to one of these private dune hollows that she had fled.

The predators approached, slinking up the sides of the dune, coming from all directions.

She could feel the cold of the higher plane creeping up through her feet, into her bones, as it tried to leach the power from her. Imoshen's instincts told her to flee.