OUTLAW DRAGON

THE DRAGONS OF ESTERNES, BOOK 2

STEVE TURNBULL

TAU PRESS LTD

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Afterword

OUTLAW DRAGON by Steve Turnbull.

Copyright © 2019 Tau Press Ltd. All rights reserved.

Ebook ISBN: 978-1-910342-96-1

Paperback ISBN: 978-1-910342-97-8

Hardback ISBN: 978-1-910342-98-5

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this book shall be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information retrieval system without permission of the publisher. The moral right of the contributors to be identified as the authors of their work has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Designs, and Patents Act 1988.

Published by Tau Press Ltd.

Cover by Jeff Brown (jeffbrowngraphics.com).

Edited by Zoë Markham (markhamcorrect.com).

Continuity editing by Adriel Wiggins (www.adrielwiggins.com).

Created with Vellum

1

T  he white light of Lostimal shone across the undulating plains and the dim red glow of Colimar filled in the shadows. Beneath the bulk of the tekrak, they had made their camp a day’s walk from the castle of Jakalain. Gally, Yenteel and Ulina had remained there with the patterner Tenical, and the two older zirichasa, Looesa and Shingul. Kantees carried the boy back to his home on Sheesha’s back.

It had seemed strange going back there. The familiarity of the place on the one hand, balanced against the changes she had suffered. She had not promised Lord and Lady Jakalain she would return their abducted son but she felt responsible, and was glad she had done it.

However, in returning Jelamie to his parents, Kantees was careful not to give them any chance to apprehend her. They would have strung her up as an escaped slave and thief given a chance since she had flown off on their valuable property, taking another slave and an escaped prisoner with her.

She had given Jelamie the letter that Yenteel had written—Kantees could neither write nor read—and the boy had promised he would deliver it. He was certainly more subdued than he had been before his adventure. She had not liked the spoiled brat he had been, but she was not sure the new Jelamie was better. He had suffered badly at the hands of the mercenaries.

Letting Sheesha ride the winds at his own pace, Kantees had overridden the ziri’s desire to go to his own eyrie, and landed on the top of the Ziri Tower. She had slipped off Sheesha’s back and knelt to give the boy a hug which he accepted willingly. The clattering of approaching armsmen drove her back into the sky immediately. She wondered if the boy would ever recover from his experiences; she hoped so, as long as he did not forget and go back to being the old, unpleasant, Jelamie.

The camp came into sight, the curve of the tekrak highlighted on one side by the fire. Sheesha went into his usual spiral descent to land. There was no need to guide him. There was no booming welcome from the other ziri at this time, unlike during the day. Perhaps they were just asleep, or perhaps at night the call might attract foes from the darkness.

Kantees dismounted and thanked Sheesha for letting her ride—neither she nor the others used any kind of saddle or even reins, so it really was up to the zirichasa whether they allowed people to fly them. But Sheesha seemed to enjoy it, and the others did not object.

“Any problems?” asked Yenteel, sounding barely awake.

“None.”

He went silent and turned over. Kantees sat down by the fire and stared into its embers. Riding Sheesha, even in this mild weather, was not the warmest activity and she needed better clothing. She still wore what she had escaped in—rough trousers and a top that was long enough to be a smock. It was not that she wanted expensive clothes, which was fortunate given her circumstances, but just a linen undershirt would be nice to keep the roughness from her skin.

Or clothes like Daybian wore. She had lost the set she had stolen at Kurvin Port when that obnoxious Lord Hamalain had come to arrest and torture her.

She hesitated as she remembered Daybian’s face in the cave. The serious Daybian. The man who had saluted her. Not the boy with the clever comments who thought the entire world revolved around him. And she remembered his words as his ziri had been killed. When he told her to save herself and the others.

The embers in the fire crackled. Sparks flew up.

She took a deep breath. She needed sleep and a clear head in the morning. There were decisions to be made. She settled down in the cool air without even a blanket.

There was a mist lying on the plain when she woke. She was damp through, and cold. Gally and the child, Ulina, were trying to relight the fire. Kantees looked around but could only see the shadowy bulk of the tekrak. The giant plant had refused to fly on a wet day before, which suited her fine since she wanted to talk to Tenical.

If she could find him.

The ziri were huddled together against the weather. Neither the patterner nor Yenteel were in sight. She set off around the body of the tekrak.

Then she heard Yenteel. From his tone he seemed to be trying to persuade Tenical of something. She paused to eavesdrop but could not make out the words.

“Yenteel!” she called into the mist.

“Here, Kantees.”

She could already see their shapes and, as she walked up to them, they resolved into more detail. It seemed odd to her that Yenteel, his face black as a moonless night, could be talking to a Taymalin in such a way. Tenical’s face was the pale shade of all those who enslaved her people.

“Why won’t the tekrak fly today?” she said.

Tenical shrugged. “Some days it does not. Perhaps because there is no sun, perhaps because its gases are not pure enough to lift it, perhaps because it has not got enough to burn in its fire-tube.”

“Have you thought about what I said?”

“I told you, Kantees, I do not know what the Dunor is.”

She sighed. He might be telling the truth but she had no way of knowing. He might be an accomplished liar, just as she was. “What about where the Hamalain have taken Daybian?”

“He might still be at Kurvin Port,” said Yenteel as if he was defending the Taymalin.

Kantees frowned. She did not need his interference.

“They want information,” she said. “They will assume he has it.”

“The golden light,” said Tenical.

“What?”

“I am not blind, Kantees. That pattern you used to make the golden light around Sheesha that scared Ofindah’s men before you attacked.”

She paused, not her pattern at all but Sheesha’s own magic. “Yes. Very good. They think he knows how to make that.”

“Does he?”

“No.”

“Then they will torture him to his death. Unless you think he will reveal that it is you who knows the pattern.”

“He can’t,” she said, “he’s never even seen it. Where would they take him?”

“I have already told you I don’t know.”

“Do you know anything, Tenical of the Hamalain? Because if you know nothing then what good are you?” She knew her anger was wasted but it was all so frustrating. “Who taught you to control the tekrak?”

“Other patterners at the place I was sent.”

She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. “How could you not know where you were instructed if you had to fly the tekrak back to Esternes?”

“But we did not. They opened a patterner’s path.”

“To Hamalain?”

“No, it was another circle in the north of the island. We flew it round the east and came to Jakalain from the other direction.”

“For the sole purpose of capturing Daybian?”

He nodded.

“Who told you he was the one?”

Tenical shrugged and shook his head. “I just did as I was instructed—I have nothing in common with mercenaries.”

She stared at him.

“Kantees, you saved my life and it is in repayment I help you. But I am still a Hamalain and I cannot betray my people.”

“By helping me, Tenical of Hamalain, you have already betrayed them and if you think otherwise you are a fool.”

He had no answer.

“The other ley-circle?” she said.

“It’s in the Watching Pass.”

Kantees looked at Yenteel but he only shrugged.

“Do the Hamalain have their patterners there all the time? And please don’t say you don’t know.”

“They do maintain patterners there all the time. I spent time there working with them. They dig stone that burns from the ground in that area, and it is used in the fires at Kurvin Port.”

Kantees remembered her previous master, Kevrey, had received a supply of the stone that burns. “Very good. This is what we shall do. We will take the tekrak to the Watching Pass and we will tell them you are to return to the place where you were trained. If we are lucky that will be the place they took Daybian. If not, we may be able to find out. And perhaps they will also know what the Dunor is.”

Both Tenical and Yenteel opened their mouths to speak but she silenced them by raising her hands. “You will take the tekrak,” she said, looking at them. “With Gally, Looesa and Shingul. I have an errand to run and will take Ulina with me so that she is not under your feet.”

“You expect us to be able to handle the tekrak with just three of us and two ziri?” said Yenteel.

“It might be hard,” she said. “But Shingul and Looesa can hold it down with you and Gally to guide this beast.”

I hope.

“Gally stay with Kantees.”

She closed her eyes. It was what she had expected but it was still somehow disappointing when he uttered the words.

“Gally needs to help Yenteel and Tenical.”

He shook his head and then pointed at Ulina.

“Ulina is too young, she is coming with me.” Kantees prayed that Ulina wouldn’t decide to join in and complain that she was quite old enough. She had been the one who’d killed the leader of the raiders and it did not seem to have bothered her. That in itself was worrying since at the village where they found her they’d been very pleased to hand her over, claiming they had no idea where she had come from.

But Ulina said nothing.

“Kantees takes Ulina but leaves Gally?”

Now he really was upset. She knew she could just insist but it wasn’t fair to him.

“Ulina can’t look after the ziri,” she said in exasperation.

“Gally looks after the zirichasa,” he said indignantly.

“Exactly,” she said. “And if Gally comes with Kantees who will look after the ziri?”

“Kantees looks after Sheesha. Gally looks after Looesa.” He trailed off as his simple logic provided its own answer. Yenteel rode on Shingul but Yenteel would be staying behind.

Kantees said nothing as she watched him working it out.

“Gally stay with Yenteel.”

“Yes, I need you to look after the ziri,” she said. “Just like you always do because you are their friend.”

He nodded. Still not happy but defeated by his own argument.

“There’s one more thing, Gally,” she said. “Do you still have that coin we found on the Hamalain?” She wasn’t hopeful, it had probably been pocketed by one of the armsmen when they’d arrested Gally in Hamalain.

He reached into his clothes and pulled out a rag. The gold glinted when he unwrapped it.

“How?” she said.

“Gally ate it so soldiers not have it.”

Ah. She eyed it suspiciously, and then considered what he must have been doing every time…

The thought was too unpleasant to contemplate.

“I need to take it with me.”

“It is Gally’s.”

“Yes, I know.” But I need money. “I will bring you presents from Dakastown. Something even better than the coin.”

“Better?”

She nodded and he handed it over. Thankfully in the rag.

2

T  he mist started to lift at lunchtime and the tekrak stirred. They all worked to get the creature in position above the great basket. Kantees explained the situation to Sheesha, as she always did, although she knew he couldn’t really understand her. He seemed to get the idea from her tone, though.

When she and Ulina climbed into the space on his back between his wings, the other two ziri made no effort to follow. Somehow they understood too.

Tenical was fighting to keep the tekrak on the ground while they said their swift goodbyes. They would take the beast back the way it had come, following the mountains to the east coast then heading north. That way Kantees would be able to find them.

Yenteel had taken her to one side earlier to ask where she was going.

“I am going to find my old master in Dakastown to ask him about the Dunor.”

“On the back of a stolen ziri?”

“We have to drink the milk we’re served, Yenteel.”

“I should be coming with you.”

“I know, but it wouldn’t work. The tekrak is too slow.”

He laughed at that. “It can cover three or four times the ground that mounted men can manage.”

“And with Sheesha’s magic I can be in Dakastown by evening and back tomorrow.” She hesitated. “But for one small problem.”

“What’s that?”

“I have no idea how to find Dakastown.”

“It’s on the southern coast.”

“Yes, I know that much, it looks out onto the Bay of Dakasa. But do you know where that is?”

Yenteel rummaged around for a piece of charcoal in his bag and then sketched a shape that was a very rough diamond on the side of the basket. “We are roughly here in the heart of Esternes.” He shaded the top. “These are the mountains.” He shaded the bottom left and pointed to a spot on the left. “That’s Talamyrth and this is Kurvin Port. Down here at the bottom—there’s a chain of islands leading to the mainland—is the bay and Dakastown is there.”

“When’s the next feeding?”

Yenteel glanced across at Tenical, who was working his patterns in the gondola, before pulling out the metal disk, a hands-breadth across. Around the edge were regular markings and writing. One half of the edge was shaded dark and the other bright. Inset into the main body were other rings with their own markings which could turn independently of one another. Yenteel fiddled with it, finding a point on the rim before turning the inner rings.

“There will be one tomorrow afternoon.” He turned it again. “And in a little over a five-day.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then what use is it?”

Yenteel looked up at the sky. “Lostimal and Colimar are far apart when they are in the sky here, so the next feeding must be in a very distant place.”

“And the one after?”

“Closer, but not here.”

“The patterners would not like someone like you having that.”

Yenteel put it back in his bag. “They do not like anyone having such things—except themselves, of course.”

She looked at the hastily drawn map. “So I should go south?”

“You need to find the Zephira River.” He drew in a line from the central mountains, skirting the forest and then down and across to the bay.

She nodded. “Dakastown is on that river. I know.”

“If you head south and east you might find it before Cliffedge,” he drew another line across the middle of the map,” or perhaps after it. Either way, find the river and follow it.”

She took the map and pushed it into her bag. Not that it would be much help on the journey itself.

“And how will you find us, Kantees, when you return?”

“Head north to the mountains and skirt them to the east. I will do the same. I should be able to catch up with you.”

He smiled at her. “Be careful.”

A surge of nnoyance went through her. “Of course. After all, we wouldn’t want to accidentally kill Kantees of the Ziri.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Are you sure?”

“I may be following my master’s orders, Kantees, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

“Well, you can keep your caring to yourself, Yenteel. Just make sure you don’t get into trouble.”

“What could possibly happen in a day?”

The tekrak floated into the sky with Looesa and Shingul on board—it was easier than having them fly around the whole time and it did not seem to bother them. It must be almost the same as being in an eyrie to them.

The young girl settled in front of Kantees on the ziri’s shoulders.

“Are you ready, Ulina?”

“I am ready, Kantees of the Ziri.”

“Just Kantees.”

“As you command, Mother.”

Kantees closed her eyes and counted to ten. She was not entirely sure that Ulina wasn’t doing it deliberately to annoy her. Instead of saying anything, she gave Sheesha the signal.

He leapt into the air and spiralled up as she got her bearings. The real world was not as simple as the map Yenteel had drawn. For one thing, the mountains did not cut off in a straight line, and in the real world they were perhaps ten to twenty leagues away.

It was another cloudy day and a strong cold wind was coming down from the mountains. But with Gally’s coin they had money and she was going to buy both Ulina and herself a more suitable set of clothing. She knew the traders who dealt with ziri racing in Dakastown.

She had been back more than once but only using the patterner’s path, and she had never seen her old master, Kevrey of Tander, even at the races.

They had reached a good height and she set Sheesha in the best approximation of south-east that she could manage. The opposite direction to the tekrak that was still visible as a dark patch with an orange fire to its rear leaving a dirty smoke trail.

“Ulina, Sheesha is going to do the ziri magic.”

“The golden light?”

“Yes. You just need to hold on while he goes faster. The most important thing is to be careful when we stop, as it’s easy to fall off then, but I will warn you before we do.”

“Yes, Mother.”

She sounded a little nervous as well as excited so Kantees did not comment. She nudged Sheesha. “Go fast, my love.”

Sheesha pulled in his wings and dived.

Ulina screamed. At first Kantees thought the child was scared, then realised it was excitement. Even Kantees laughed to herself as Sheesha careened faster and faster towards the ground. She trusted him.

When he was a short distance from the ground he flattened out and the magic happened. The golden glow grew around them and the wind blowing their hair ceased as if they were inside a yellow glass bottle. The ground became a blur.

“Oh, Kantees!” said Ulina.

“Keep an eye out for a big river.”

The first couple of times they had flown like this, she and Sheesha had been over the sea, which did not really show the speed. The third time had been a short flight upwards. But this was different. It was easier to focus on the terrain farther away that did not appear to move so fast.

Woods, small ranges of hills, tilled fields, a town or two, they all flashed by and were gone.

How big was the Isle of Esternes? How broad from side to side, from end to end? How fast were they going? How long would it take? She had confidently said it would only take a day to get there and back but in truth she had no idea.

Sheesha flew like an arrow from a bow but what if she wanted to change direction? She could see the dark line of hills on the horizon.

Gently, in case something went wrong, she leaned back—the way she would if she wanted Sheesha to climb. Moments later she could see they were rising. She moved back to where she had been and the climb seemed to stop.

She looked along Sheesha’s neck that was like a poker pointing straight ahead. Behind she could see his wings were held tightly against his body and his tail, too, was straight. He truly was an arrow of the sky.

With the sky overcast she had no idea how far the day had progressed, and without any knowledge of where they were she could not judge how far they had come. It made her nervous and she worried about Sheesha. In normal flight he moved his body; his wings would beat, of course, but his neck undulated as he moved, as did his tail.

But moving like this it was almost as if he was lifeless.

And the more she had these thoughts the more worried she became.

“Hold on tight, Ulina.” Kantees hooked her legs under the wings.

“Sheesha, let us stop,” she said quietly. The golden glow faded and they were blasted with wind. Sheesha back-winged hard until he could glide.

Instantly Kantees could smell burning. They were over a wood nestling in the lower reaches of the hills she had seen that ran as far as she could see in both directions. Smoke was rising from constructions she first took for huts, but if they were then they were all on fire because the smoke was intense, leaking from every part of them.

Charcoal burners.

“Sheesha is tired,” said Ulina.

Kantees looked up. What did the girl know of zirichasa? But she was right, Sheesha’s head was drooping and he barely moved his wings.

Never mind that she was worried about where they were, she should have been concerned for him. She cursed her stupidity. Patterners always tired after engaging with powerful patterns. Yenteel had nearly killed himself in trying to heal himself. If it had not been for Kantees and Sheesha he would be dead.

Why did she think it would be different for a ziri?

She looked for somewhere to come down. Sheesha would probably appreciate an easy landing but the place was all trees. She spotted a bare hill to the left and brought Sheesha round. He gathered her intention and, with just one beat of his wings to gain a little height, glided toward it.

There were shouts from below, but she could not see who it was and whether they were friendly. There was no point worrying about that right now, Sheesha was moving faster than a man could run. They would have time to prepare for a welcoming party after they landed.

Sheesha did not even circle once to look at the terrain he was landing on. He simply came down heavily, almost jolting Kantees and Ulina from between his wings. And then he lay flat with his wings outstretched.

3

K  antees leapt from his back as Ulina slid off the side. She rushed to his head; she had never seen him like this in all their years together. Even after a tough race he would still be able to stand and make threatening growls at the others.

But when she reached him and put her hand on his round snout she had no idea what she should do. It wasn’t as if he could tell her what was wrong. Kantees rummaged in her bag and pulled out the water bottle. She wet her hand and wiped it on his nose above the mouth. His jaw opened slightly and his thick tongue slid out to wipe away the moisture.

She did it a second time and, in the moment he licked, she poured water on to his tongue.

He slurped.

“Open your mouth, you big lump,” she said.

With his tongue still out, almost as broad as her waist, his jaw opened and she emptied the water into it.

“I should have landed near water,” she said.

Sheesha grunted. So, he was thirsty and probably hungry. If he had enough water—

“Kantees of the Ziri! Mother!”

Damn the girl. Kantees stood and looked along the length of the ziri. Ulina stood there, facing three men who dwarfed her. Ulina had her arm outstretched and was holding her knife. It did not look much, being about the length of her finger, but it was magic and would slice cleanly through anything. That in itself was worth a thousand times as much as the gold coin—not that Kantees would ever try to take it from the girl.

Unfortunately, the men would not realise what they were facing. All they saw was a little girl with a tiny knife. That Ulina was a little girl was true but Kantees had seen her kill a man with no hesitation and no remorse. If these men gave her cause to fight them they would regret it, and so would Kantees.

“Ulina! Do not hurt them,” she said.

“They will not hurt Sheesha!”

To their credit the men did not laugh, but perhaps they weren’t listening. They were looking at Sheesha, laid out on the hill, the length of seven men nose to tail and even more across the wings.

Kantees looked down at him; even she had never seen him spread out like this. He must be intimidating to those who did not know him. Though not to her, particularly with his eyes shut. From the way he had drunk the water she thought he was probably all right. Just tired and hungry. Not just tired: exhausted.

She had to skirt around his wing and the length of his body—his legs were splayed out inelegantly—and along his tail. She reached Ulina and put her hand on her shoulder.

“Put down your knife, Ulina.”

The men were dusty black with the smoke from their charcoal stacks, but beneath that layer they looked like Taymalin.

“I am Kantees of the Ziri,” she said, hating herself for using the name. Damn Yenteel for his manipulations, but the truth was she would get the most help if they thought she was important. Names have power. “And this is my protector, Ulina.”

Of the three it was a smaller and older man that spoke first. “I am Klobish.” He turned and pointed to the other two. “Franek and Ut.” The latter had a strange mottled scar on his face and neck.

“The ziri is tired,” she said. “We have ridden far. He needs water and meat.”

“Water we have in plenty. There’s a stream yonder.” He pointed back past her. “Meat we have but for ourselves, and what we can share with thee. We cannot feed a beast such as this.” Then he shivered as a thought visibly crossed his mind.

“He does not eat people,” she said. Although she suspected that to be a lie since Sheesha and the others had killed a lot of men in the past few days—and would probably have been happy to eat them too. “Unless I command it.”

That seemed to have an effect.

She thought she needed to say something else to round it off, but she had run out of ideas and was tired herself. Riding the ziri may not require much energy but simply sitting while he flew at such speed was tiring enough.

A glance at the sky told her it probably wouldn’t rain.

“We will rest here while the ziri recovers enough to go down to the stream. Then he will hunt.”

The men still waited. Oh, Kisharuk curse them, they wanted a blessing—that’s what came of using a fancy name and riding a monster. “May the blessings of the Mother go with you.” That sounded right and it seemed to suit them, as they retreated back down the hill.

Kantees sighed and sat down by Sheesha’s tail where the feathers fanned out in their blues and golds, tipped with white that looked almost silver.

Ulina still clutched the tiny dagger in her hand as she watched the men retreat.

“It’s fine, Ulina, they won’t hurt us.”

The girl did not answer, her body as tense as a drawn bow-string.

“Ulina. Sit.”

Almost as if she had not heard Kantees speaking, the child turned. “I do not like them.”

“They are harmless,” said Kantees. “We should worry more for Sheesha.” So saying, she got to her feet. Sheesha needed her. “Let’s find the stream they mentioned.”

Kantees paused for a moment at the ziri’s head and told him they were going to get him more water. He did not stir. She knew he did not understand the words but she hoped it would make him feel safer while she was gone.

She laughed to herself. The idea that she might make him feel safe. He was vastly more dangerous than she was. Even Ulina was more dangerous than her. After all, she had sworn she would kill the raiders herself, but it was Ulina and the ziri who had done it, not her. She was full of big words and little action. But then she had always been a good liar.

She looked suspiciously at the woods as they approached. Trees could harbour creatures that killed but there seemed to be a foot-worn path coming from round the side of the hill that led off beneath the branches. They followed that and stumbled on the stream not far in. Birds were singing and there was the constant buzz from insects. It was probably a lovely place when the sun was shining, but she did not feel up to appreciating its beauty.

Several stones had been placed in the mud at the water’s edge to create an area where a person could kneel and collect water without stirring up the dirt. Kantees would have been happier with water from a well. There was no telling what might have died upstream. Well, it was unlikely to affect Sheesha.

She pulled out the water bottle and wished she had something bigger.

This was not a problem she had considered. And that was a failing—one of her continued failings. How many times in the preceding ten-days had she made incorrect assumptions that had nearly got them all killed? And had succeeded in getting Daybian captured and Jintan murdered?

She shook her head and plunged the bottle into the water, watching the bubbles rise.

There was the rustle of leaves above and something thudded to the ground beside her. She threw herself to the side, almost losing the water bottle in the process, and fetched up sitting in the muddy water against a tree root.

Something big and leathery, leaking blood, lay on the stones.

Where is Ulina? The girl was gone. Kantees panicked. “Ulina!”

Something moved above her. The branches shifted and broken leaves drifted down. Something in the trees! Ulina’s face poked out, upside down from the greenery.

“Kantees, I got it!”

Ulina loved to climb. Kantees knew this. A closer inspection told her that the creature on the floor was a big sikechak, the same sort of thing that had been in the cavern next to the ley-circle at Kurvin Port.

As far as Kantees was aware they tasted awful. Though you could live on them. They preferred to sleep by day, so Ulina must have caught this one napping.

The girl’s face disappeared up as her legs came down through the leaves and Ulina dropped and landed on the stones.

“Why are you sitting in the water?” she said.

“I fell over.”

The answer apparently satisfied Ulina, who picked up the sikechak by one leg and held it up. “I got it for Sheesha.” Then she frowned. “Will he like it?”

Kantees gave a half-smile; she was not pleased with what the girl had done but the result had been good. She wasn’t Ulina’s kin so she had no right to tell her how to behave or what was right and wrong. Then again, if Ulina did have any kin the chances are she would never see them again. Which meant that perhaps the task did fall to Kantees after all.

“Sheesha will be very pleased,” she said. “But you should tell me what you’re going to do.”

“Why?”

“Because everything we do affects those around us, even if we think it doesn’t.”

Ulina stared at her for a moment and then nodded. “I understand.” Then she headed back the way they had come, dragging the sikechak behind her so its head bounced on every bump and root.

Kantees pulled herself dripping from the water. It was a good thing the weather wasn’t cold. She had water everywhere it was uncomfortable to have it, and there was no way to dry it except removing the remains of her clothing—which she was not about to do with those men around—or wait for it to dry on her, which might end up giving her sores.

Looking after Sheesha was more important than whether her skin hurt. So she headed after Ulina.

When they got back to him Sheesha had moved and was now curled up. But he lifted his head as they approached. Getting him to drink the water now that he was more alert was more trouble than it was worth, particularly since he was far more interested in the fresh meat.

Kantees did not enjoy watching ziri eat carcasses, so she looked away as he crunched through it, though it was barely more than a light meal for him. Ulina was, however, fascinated and watched the entire process. Once he had finished Kantees succeeded in getting more water into him and wiped his bloodied snout.

“You’re a messy eater,” she said, to which he grunted.

“He understands you, Kantees,” said Ulina.

“Don’t be silly, he’s just an animal.”

Ulina gave her a hard look. “You know that’s not true. Yenteel said you are a liar. I don’t think you should say things that aren’t true.”

It’s the only way I can survive, said the voice in her mind.

“You’re probably right, but when you are a slave it comes naturally. It’s a hard habit to break. But,” she said, “that is only true when what you’re saying is a lie. Sheesha is very clever but he is still an animal. If he understands anything it’s just the way I say things. He can tell if I’m angry, happy, or sad, and then responds.”

Ulina screwed up her face in an expression that did not hide the fact that she did not believe this for one single moment.

“If he understands me, why doesn’t he understand you?”

“You’re Kantees of the Ziri,” said Ulina as if that settled any argument.

“I’m just Kantees.”

She looked at the sky. Her schedule had already collapsed. Even if Sheesha recovered soon and went hunting, they wouldn’t be able to ride before dark.

And she still had no idea how far they had come, how far they had still to go, or even where they were.

4

I t rained in the night. Kantees and Ulina climbed under Sheesha’s wing for warmth and shelter, though they were both already wet through.

Sheesha had gone hunting into the low slopes of the hills to the south, and from the top of the hill they had been able to watch him. Kantees had assumed he would soar through the air and then stoop on his unsuspecting prey. It may have been that he was too tired to do that because he landed and spent some time motionless, looking almost like a tree stump at this distance—even if it was a very brightly coloured one.

Then he moved, so fast it was difficult to see, and snatched something from the ground which he chomped a couple of times, then raised his head skyward to allow it to slide down his throat. He did this several times before moving to a new location.

Whatever it was he was eating they couldn’t see this far away. Certainly nothing very large.

He returned via a stop at the stream. Rather than sleep on top of the hill, exposed to the wind, Kantees had them go down the slope. She had been woken not only by the falling rain in the pitch black of the night but also rivulets coming down the hill and seeping into her clothes.

Which was how they ended up tucked in with Sheesha.

The morning was overcast and Kantees itched to be away, but they needed some breakfast and Sheesha had gone off to eat more of whatever he had found on the slopes. So instead, Kantees and Ulina headed down through what was left of the trees looking for the men. She had been wrong about the thick forest the day before. Perhaps it was thicker elsewhere but here barely one tree in ten had been left standing by the colliers as they chopped them down to turn them into charcoal.

They found a small hut made of piled stones, the gaps plugged by clay. The door was small and covered by a cloth. Kantees called out but no one responded. There was a track worn by many feet—or perhaps one pair of feet many times—leading further across the chopped-down trees.

She could see smoke rising not too far away and heard someone coughing before she saw him. He was busy applying clay from a bucket to the outer walls of what could have been mistaken for another hut. He glanced at them approaching, then scanned behind them and the air above looking for Sheesha. He coughed again.

“Rain’s the Kisharuk’s piss,” he said as he dug another handful of clay from the bucket and slapped it over a hole that had been leaking smoke.

Kantees did not know how to respond to such a greeting. “We’re trying to get to Dakastown.”

He did not turn but remained focused on his task. “Dakastown, is it?”

“Yes. Do you know the way?”

“South. Good market for charcoal is Dakastown.”

“How far?”

He shrugged. “We just make the charcoal.” He coughed again. The smoke from the pile was acrid and made Kantees’ throat tingle. What must it be like having to breathe it all day, every day?

“How does it get to Dakastown?” she asked. “Patterner’s path?”

At that he burst out laughing. “Think you we can afford a patterner’s path?” His laugh degenerated into another bout of coughing. “No, Mother, we sells it to the river men and they sells it to the harbour men and they sells it to the metalworkers whether it’s in Dakastown, or Cliffedge, or wherever it may end up.” Now he did turn to them. “My charcoal burns hot and smelts the iron that makes all the pretty things for the rich folks in Dakastown. What do you do, Mother?”

Ulina stepped forward. “This is Kantees of the Ziri; she has brought vengeance to those who dishonoured Taymalin and Kadralin. And when she flies her Sheesha, he is a golden arrow in the sky.”

The man stared at the girl and scratched his head. “I don’t know anything about that.”

He went back to plugging the holes the rain must have made in his clay-covered construction. Kantees knew nothing about how charcoal was made, but he must know his business.

“How long before this is ready?”

“It’ll burn for a five-day,” he said. “And the wood turns to black. Then we crack it open and let it cool. But that’s the difficult time, can’t let it catch aflame otherwise it will all be ruined and worthless.”

Kantees frowned. “But you said it burned for a five-day.”

“Different sort of burning, Mother.”

She was expecting him to say more but he didn’t, so she accepted it. A different sort of burning when it was encased in clay and, she thought, could not breathe. She nodded to herself, remembering how they had almost run out of air inside of Yenteel’s magical protection.

The man had been very talkative. Perhaps working in the forest alone, save for the others doing the same job, made him less cautious. She was not sure if he was going to be upset, or simply impressed, but her silence left him space to continue.

“Where do we find the river men? They must know the way to Dakastown.”

“Yes, Mother, they’ll know,” he said, turning and pointing to the north. “There’s a track the carts use. You follow that and it will take you to the town then you ask the river men the way.”

Kantees smiled and gave him a blessing again.

When she turned away the smile dropped from her face. She hated this deception. She was not important, yet wherever she went she got treated as if she was special—all because of Sheesha. It made her angry.

She strode back towards the hill with Ulina having to run to keep up.

“What’s wrong, Kantees?”

“Everything.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Please stop defending me to everyone, Ulina, you’re just making it worse.”

It took Kantees a few moments to realise that Ulina was no longer following her. There was no sound of her feet squishing in the muddy ground, and no sound of her breathing. Kantees stopped and turned.

The girl was standing twenty paces behind.

Kantees waited.

Ulina did not move but stared at Kantees. The rain started again and Kantees swore. As she imagined the collier did too.

So Kantees retraced her steps and went down on one knee in front of the girl so their faces would be at the same level. Either Ulina was crying or the rain was getting on her cheeks. Or both.

It surprised Kantees because she had gotten the idea that Ulina never cried. This was a girl who could kill a grown man.

“Why are you crying, Ulina?”

“You don’t want me. You are like the people in the village. Nobody wants me.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want you,” said Kantees. “And I made a promise.” She held up the hand that had spilt the blood for her oath.

“Grown-ups always lie to children and Yenteel says you are a very good liar.”

Kantees smiled without humour. “Yes, it is true, I am a good liar but I did not lie to you.”

Ulina burst into sobs breaking up her words. “How can I know?”

Words stuck in Kantees’ throat. There it was, her lies that came so easily and could sound so convincing, they mocked the truth when she spoke it. And that meant there was nothing she could say that could possibly mean anything.

Instead she knelt back on her heels, despite the squelching of the mud, and held open her arms. She did not reach for Ulina, but waited.

The girl trembled as she cried and the rain fell on them both. Kantees desperately wanted to set off. Yenteel, Gally and Tenical would be expecting them back today and that was not going to happen. There was no way of knowing whether Yenteel would be able to deal with Gally if he became upset. He could be very difficult sometimes.

Like Ulina. Like Kantees herself. There was a truth if she needed one.

Then Ulina moved forward into Kantees’ arms. And she enfolded her and held her tight.

Kantees heard the sound of wind through giant wings, followed by a sodden thump as a wet ziri landed behind her. Sheesha grunted and his head came down on Kantees’ shoulder, knocking her over into the mud and taking Ulina with her.

Ulina giggled through her sobs but Kantees did not feel like laughing. She was cold and wet. Ulina’s distrust had cut her as deep as the girl’s little knife, and it was entirely justified.

“We have to get going,” said Kantees, but she could not move with the weight of Sheesha still resting his head on her shoulder.

“Sheesha wants a hug too,” said Ulina, and she squeezed out from under Kantees, putting her knee into Kantees’ stomach as she did so. Kantees bore the pressure without comment. Though Ulina’s mood seemed to have lifted, she guessed the happy facade might be fragile.

Sheesha licked Kantees’ cheek, leaving it drier and cleaner but stickier.

No longer caring about the mud, Kantees rolled over on to her knees and used Sheesha’s head to lever herself up into a standing position. She was caked in dirt. It will dry and fall off.

“Come on,” she said and clambered awkwardly on to Sheesha’s neck. Ulina came up and let Kantees lift her into place. The acrid scent of the charcoal burners drifted across to her. And Sheesha sneezed. They were almost thrown from him as his entire body flexed.

“Let’s get away from here,” said Kantees. “Sheesha, up!”

The great beast spread his wings and gave them a shake to remove the excess water. His downstroke lifted them but Kantees could tell he was having some difficulty. But she did not know whether that was from his previous tiredness or the rain. Probably both. She had already decided she wasn’t going to strain him. Since they were already late, trying to make up the time was pointless.

She knew the route Tenical intended to take, she would simply follow that until Sheesha caught up with the tekrak.

But for now she guided Sheesha, with his laborious wingbeats, above the track the collier had indicated. There were dozens of burning charcoal stacks scattered through the woods in groups, with men working on them patching the damage from the rain. As they flew, they left the smoke behind and entered an area where yew trees grew among the stumps—but she could see the remains of charcoal burners between them. And then there was an area where the foliage had grown up and hidden the ground. It was as if they were travelling through time. This had been the route of the colliers over the years. Moving through the forest, destroying the trees for their charcoal, only to move on and have it grow up behind them.

She shook her head. Trees did not grow fast and by now they must have travelled further back along the collier’s progress than her own birth. Certainly Ulina’s.

The track they followed was a line drawn into the past.

Then the forest came to an end to be replaced by open pasture with huge beasts cropping the grass. She did not recognise them, with their long reddish pelts glistening wetly, but she had tasted the meat of the lukisa and guessed that was what these were. Their hair was woven into cloth while their skins were tanned and used for many things. The beasts, as long nose to tail as Sheesha snout to tail fan, paused in their munching and looked up at the predatory wings of the ziri. Kantees doubted that one ziri on its own could take down even one of these. They must weigh at least ten times more.

It continued to rain but Sheesha did not seem to be having too much difficulty. Kantees and Ulina were getting a bath from it, however, and the mud ran off them in dirty rivulets, and it was cold. She smiled to herself. Through all the winters she had spent in the Ziri Tower at Jakalain, all she had was the hay and a single blanket to keep her warm.

Even when they had travelled to the races it wasn’t much better. Sometimes worse, depending on the season and where the race took place. Some days and nights she had almost frozen. If only she had known then Sheesha would have allowed her to sleep in the cocoon of his feathers.

Unfortunately, he could do nothing about the rain.

The track crossed a series of streams where wooden bridges had been put in place. They were old by the look of them but in good repair. She tried to see ahead but there was nothing but the greyness of the rain, and the hills to the left which they were following.

She realised that, without even being asked, Sheesha had stayed low and flew to one side of the track so she could see it. He did seem to understand her needs, even when she did not speak them out loud.

They passed another herd of lukisa, about fifty of them, looking bedraggled. This time she spotted the herdsman hunched under a waterproof skin with his three zatesa. They watched Sheesha with even more care than the lukisa did, but then it was their job to protect the herd. Enough of them could probably take down a ziri if given the opportunity, but Kantees had no intention of landing, and she was not sure three would be enough to defeat Sheesha.

She had no idea how much ground they had covered but she thought it must be at least five leagues. They crossed another wooded area and off to the right were more stacks burning wood to make charcoal. It occurred to her that the men who worked these woods must be in a far better position than the ones she had met, being closer to the town. But this wood was nowhere near as extensive, and just beyond it were a series of small fields with lines of cultivated plants.

Then they passed a village—housing the farmers for the fields, she assumed. Up in the hills of Jakalain the soil was not fertile and could neither support much in the way of plants nor feed herds of lukisa.

The village fell behind and there was more grazing land, soon replaced by another village. Then all the grazing land was gone and it was only fields. People looked up and pointed. Children ran screaming to their mothers. Kichesa pulling carts took fright and Kantees had Sheesha gain altitude so they became more of a ghostly dark shape in the clouds, rather than a hunting monster. The track was a line across the terrain below them.

Finally, buildings higher than a single storey came into view and in moments they were passing across the bustling streets of a trader town cut in half by a broad river. Perhaps it was the Zephira and they could follow it all the way to Dakastown. But they needed provisions and somewhere dry. Perhaps she might even buy clothes here. Though, for all it seemed a busy place, it was still in the middle of nowhere. Not like Dakastown.

The problem now was how she was going to get Sheesha on to the ground without being shot at or causing a panic. She stared glumly at the muddy roadways streaming with water, and the buildings with water sluicing off their roofs.

That was going to be a trick.

5

T  hey crossed the river. The far bank had fewer buildings and there were fewer people on the streets. Kantees turned Sheesha to head upstream. The deluge of rain hid them from view except for anyone directly below, though at the same time it stopped them from being able to see much.

A set of large buildings she took for warehouses passed beneath them. There seemed to be no one moving around them so she took a chance. Sheesha went into a sharp spiral dive and they seemed to fall from the sky. The space below was open and surrounded by fencing where it did not face onto the main building, but Kantees guided the ziri towards the corner nearest the building. At which point he accelerated his descent with his wings angled up.

They landed and he absorbed the jolt with his back legs.

Kantees jumped down with Ulina. There was a raised wooden platform attached to the building with an overhang from roof, and she pulled Sheesha into it, though he seemed not to notice that his tail was still out in the rain until Ulina ran around and shifted it bodily. Sheesha twisted his neck round until he was looking directly at the child holding his tail. Kantees smiled. She had often noticed how he seemed to have no understanding that the tail he saw was the same thing he could feel. Almost as if his tail did not belong to him.

A growl from behind interrupted her. She turned to see two very large zatesa stalking towards them with slow steps. She cursed herself for not realising the place would have protection. There might even be a guard.

But Sheesha’s head swung back and he stretched it over her head while spreading his wings. Suddenly he was enormous. And then he roared at the zatesa. It was if they shrank in size; their bellies hit the ground. Sheesha kept his wings spread and dropped his snout to sniff at the two.

“Don’t hurt them, Sheesha,” she said. “They’re only doing their job.”

A low growl rumbled in Sheesha’s throat, growing in volume. Kantees suddenly remembered Ulina and turned to see where she was. The girl was beneath Sheesha’s left wing looking at the zatesa. She did not look afraid and her tiny knife was once more in her hand. Though it would be of little use if they chose to attack.

Looking back Kantees could see that making trouble was the last thing on their minds. They had flattened themselves against the ground, though their larger hindquarters were up in the air. Sheesha was still sniffing them as if undecided whether to eat them.

Then he licked one and then the other, pulled in his wings and neck, and sat down with a thump that shook the floorboards. He grunted.

Kantees did not take her eyes off the zatesa as she backed up next to Sheesha in case they decided to attack after all. Instead, one of them sat up and used its long tongue to clean itself. The other one lay down on its side, but in such a way as to keep Sheesha in view. Kantees was astonished. She had not felt Sheesha use any magic, yet what she had seen looked like magic. These animals would be trained to kill intruders. She had seen ones similar on her race visits.

There had been that smug keeper she had met who had explained in repetitive detail how the zatesa respected authority and if you could dominate them they would do whatever you wanted. The Ziri master back at Hamalain had said Sheesha was a dominant male. These were all things that Romain, her mentor at Jakalain, had never mentioned. She doubted he even knew.

So if Sheesha was a dominant ziri perhaps that transferred to the zatesa. The question was, would that dominance extend to her as well? Could she get past them to get out and make her enquiries?

Kantees looked around. The rain was still coming down heavily but was a little less torrential. The fences around the yard were high and looked solid. They would need to be in order to keep the zatesa in. There was a door into the building but that was too close to the zati for her to try it. She went, cautiously and keeping an eye open, to another one nearer; large double doors for moving goods in and out, she guessed.

It was firmly locked. Ulina’s knife might be able to cut through the lock but Kantees did not think that would be necessary. They just needed to get over the fence.

“I can climb out, Kantees,” said Ulina. “I can find out what we need to know.”

Kantees turned to look at the girl and shook her head. “I can’t send you on your own.”

Ulina raised her eyebrows in a way that reminded Kantees of Yenteel. “You did not hesitate to send me to help the children when we attacked the raiders.”

“I hesitated,” said Kantees.

“But you sent me.”

For some reason Kantees was certain that was a completely different situation, although she could not really explain why.

“Towns are more dangerous than raiders.”

“What is it we must know?” asked Ulina.

Kantees closed her eyes and sighed. “Is the river the Zephira? And even if it isn’t, do we get to Dakastown by following it? Also, how many days by boat does it take to get to Dakastown?”

“Does the river go to Dakastown and how long does it take,” repeated Ulina.

“Yes.”

“Shall I bring food?”

“Not unless someone gives it to you out of kindness. Do not steal anything, Ulina, there is no need to put yourself at any more risk than is necessary.”

“But I’m hungry.”

“We’ll find something further downstream when we leave here. A place like this is dangerous, we must find somewhere smaller.”

Ulina looked unconvinced but finally nodded. She ran to the fence and scaled it in a moment, where Kantees would have been struggling to reach the top. Ulina disappeared and the last thing Kantees heard of her was her feet squelching into the mud when she landed.

Sheesha shook himself, showering Kantees and the zatesa in rainwater, then settled down to sleep. She hoped he would not be hungry too soon, concerned the meal he had eaten earlier would not be enough for very long. But there was little she could do about that now, unless he decided to eat the zati.

Once he had stopped shifting his position in order to get comfortable, she sat down with her back to his chest, feeling the slowing thump-thump-thump of his heartbeat. The warmth of his body seeped through her and the gentle rhythm lulled her into a doze.

The growls of the zatesa woke her where the noise of men did not. For a moment she was terrified that whatever pattern Sheesha had cast on the zatesa had worn off and they were going to attack. But as she opened her eyes—to a rainy vista little different from before—she saw that the yard’s guardians were on their feet looking the length of the yard to the gates at the end. They were not threatening her or Sheesha.

Then she noticed the voices. Men shouting to one another, looking for something.

Sheesha was still asleep. Kantees jabbed her elbow into his neck to wake him up.

The zatesa jumped from the raised platform and stepped out into the rain. The drops splashed off their tight reptilian skin. Their muscles moved powerfully. They always looked a little ungainly because their rear legs were so much bigger; unlike a ziri, they were built for moving fast across the ground.

Kantees wondered how long she had dozed but there was no way to tell, except for the fact the light was not fading so it was still some time in the afternoon. Where was Ulina? Had she had enough time to get the answers they needed?

Now Kantees wondered whether she had done the right thing. They could have just followed the river anyway, they would have reached the sea eventually. Had she put Ulina into danger unnecessarily? Did she really need to know?

“It came down near here!” A voice cut clearly through the rain-filled air.

It was not Ulina they were after. It was Sheesha.

The zatesa had reached the gate and were pacing in front of it. Kantees could hear their growling. That should dissuade the searchers. She could even hear some men muttering nervously.

It was at that moment Sheesha decided he needed to evacuate his bowels. It was not that he was noisy about it as he waddled out into the rain and went to the fence. She was also sure that, when he stretched, he did not become visible above the fence.

It was the smell. She had spent most of her life working with that stench and barely noticed it, especially since he had done it far from where she was sitting. He was considerate that way. But for someone not accustomed to it, it was pungent, disgusting, and if you knew your animal dung, distinctive.

She heard a voice say “Ziri” and was on her feet, running for Sheesha, immediately.

One of the zatesa snorted. She didn’t look and trusted that Sheesha would continue to overawe them as he did anyone who was not used to him. He saw her coming but did not have time to dip his neck when she arrived. She grabbed a handful of feathers and pulled herself up, flinging her leg over.

The zatesa erupted in growls followed by an almost musical tone produced through their muzzles. The two of them together made a discordant roar. It was such a horrible sound it set her teeth on edge.

Beyond the fence, arguing broke out. One person saying they had to get in, more than one saying there was no chance they were going to face two angry guardian zati.

Kantees had been about to fly, but realised if she did the men would know for sure she was there and might try to bring Sheesha down. The man who knew the ziri smell was outnumbered for now, but Kantees was sure he, whoever he was, would not give up and she could not afford to give them time to organise.

As far as she could tell there was no pool of magic in this place, not even a small ley-circle. This town existed only because of the river, charcoal and trade. If there was no circle it meant they couldn’t get a message out quickly, but it also meant Sheesha couldn’t do one of his tricks—like the short burst of speed he had achieved back at Hamalain.

That left brute force, and Sheesha did not lack for that.

The gate looked solid but the fence had long stretches of wood between the supporting posts, which did not look strong.

Kantees hesitated. She had not made any plans with Ulina about what to do if either of them ran into trouble. She cursed herself once more; she always seemed to be making mistakes, and every one of them could result in death.

But she could not wait. They had to move now. She gave Sheesha a little kick but leaned forward so he would get the idea not to take off. The voices were all coming from the right of the yard. So she aimed Sheesha at the left and urged him forward. He was confused at first, fully expecting to take to the air, but he was obedient to her request.

He stopped when they reached the fence. Glancing round, Kantees saw the zatesa following, looking unsettled and still hooting intermittently. They seemed keen to follow Sheesha and that was what Kantees wanted.

She nudged the ziri again, and after a moment’s confusion he jumped up like some massive bird hopping from the ground to a branch. He landed on the fence and his wings whipped out for balance.

A cry of horror in front made her peer round Sheesha’s neck at a man—just some trader or other—staring up at the monster perched above him.

The fence creaked. Sheesha flapped his wings and Kantees heard the cracking of wood beneath them. The man fled. He had not even screamed. But someone off to her right shouted. “Here! The dragon!”

The fence collapsed with a great splintering and cracking as it shattered beneath them. Sheesha dropped forward and landed awkwardly in the lane.

She heard the hue and cry as the men came running from the other side of the yard.

Where were the zatesa? She looked and they were hanging back. That wasn’t part of the plan. “Come on!” she yelled at them. “You’re free!”

Half a dozen men pounded round the corner with mud flying up at every stride. They had weapons: just tools, but hammers and pitchforks were bad enough. One of them had a bow, she guessed he was the one who had recognised the smell. He was also dressed for travel.

For the briefest moment she thought perhaps he was after them specifically. But that made no sense. Nobody knew they were coming here, she had not even known herself. It must be a coincidence—no matter how inconvenient.

She had hoped the zati would leap out into the lane to stand there majestic and menacing—maybe even chasing the oncoming attackers. Unfortunately, they were more circumspect and sniffed at the broken fence.

There was no time to waste. She urged Sheesha round to face the men, then pulled on his neck feathers. He reared up and stretched his wings. His head snaked down and he growled. The men came to a skidding halt.

“Come on,” said the traveller. “It’s just a girl on a racer!”

He charged on, hoping, perhaps, to bring the others with him. However, it seemed that Sheesha’s growl had finally activated the zatesa, who leapt over the broken wood to stand in the lane.

The man with the bow came to a stop.

Kantees yelled as Sheesha moved forward, picking up speed as his taloned feet splashed in the muddy lane. He added his warning hoot to her cry and the zatesa joined in with their discordant howl.

The men—even the traveller—turned and fled. A couple fell in the rush, splashing into the sodden ground, desperately flailing to get themselves back on their feet and not to be the ones at the back of the fleeing mob.

The zatesa, with their sinuous bodies undulating, gave chase.

“Kantees!”

She turned at the sound of Ulina’s voice—and so did Sheesha, his long neck holding his head high to find the source of the sound. The girl was back on the other side of the yard, perched on the fence.

Without being instructed Sheesha turned his bulk in the narrow lane and went back through the gap he had made, then half-hopped, flapping his wings for extra speed and lift, across the open space.

Ulina squealed and Kantees could see she was fighting something behind her, on the other side of the fence. As they got closer she saw a hand. Ulina was scrabbling at her neck for her little knife while beating at the hands that had grabbed her clothes.

Sheesha arrived at the fence and snaked his head over to look down at whoever was on the other side. There was a cry of fear and the hands holding Ulina let her go. She fell forward from the top of the fence and landed on her hands and feet at the bottom.

There was the snap of teeth but it was not accompanied by the sound of flesh and bone crunching—Kantees was grateful, she was not entirely happy with the amount of death and mayhem caused so far. She reached down and caught Ulina’s outstretched hand. She pulled the girl up, facing the wrong way, but they clung to one another as Sheesha turned again.

“Go, Sheesha!” she said.

His wings beat and she was pushed down into their working muscles as they lifted all three into the air.

As they climbed, the sound of shouts, screams and discordant hooting reached her ears. She hoped the zatesa wouldn’t kill anyone. As long as someone could get a door between them, they would be fine.

She steered the ziri to the river then to the right. She no longer cared if they were seen. She urged Sheesha to fly faster as they moved downstream along the river.

They had made a successful escape, but if this was even a sample of what could happen in a populated place, they would need the blessings of the Mother to be able to survive in Dakastown.

6

She let Sheesha climb to a good height but had no desire to push him any faster. The air was still full of rain. She was exhausted and still cold and damp. Ulina was no better and just clung to Kantees without changing position.

Kantees looked up at the underside of the grey clouds. Clouds came between the sun and the ground. Sometimes the clouds were in layers and rain only came from the lower ones.

She looked down. Ulina had told her she had found an old boatman down by the water. He had seemed happy to talk and said the river was the Zephira, and that by boat it took a five-day to travel all the way to Dakastown if you had a full cargo and made no stops except at night. Coming back, it was at least a ten-day depending on the wind. But there was the Prince’s Gantry at Cliffedge that took a day on its own. The name sparked a memory in Kantees, but she couldn’t place it.

She could see boats on the water even now. There was not much wind and the ones coming upstream were using oars—probably manned by slaves, both Kadralin and any Taymalin who had fallen foul of the law.

The river stretched out, wandering in wide bends, never in a straight line. And there were lakes and marshes either side along its banks.

She looked up once more. She wanted to be out of the rain.

Sheesha stroked harder and they climbed through the rain. The clouds must have been further away than they looked and it took a while before the rain became mist as they pushed up into the grey. The ground disappeared and it got darker. The clouds soaked her. She worried about Sheesha; would he become too wet?

But he did not stop the strong beating of his wings, which she could feel through her rump rather than see, carrying them up and up. The grey of the clouds turned white and they burst through into brilliant sunshine.

Kantees felt her heart would break with the beauty of the world above the clouds. The sky was unbroken blue with the brilliance of the sun blazing down on them. And below were the clouds, a terrain of brilliant white like hills and mountains. She breathed in deep. The air was cold but the sun still warmed her.

She turned Ulina round so she could see the beauty too, but held her tight, not for any fear of falling—because who could feel unsafe on the back of a zirichak?—but because she wanted to feel her close; as if the wondrous cloud landscape made her heart overflow with love, and the dampness of Sheesha’s wings made him shimmer with iridescent colour.

This was perfection. And the eye of the Mother was on them.

Low down in the south-east, directly along their path, Lostimal appeared in the day as it sometimes did. It was in its three-quarter phase and at its centre was Colimar. The feeding occurred when the moons were directly overhead, the only time that Lostimal and Colimar were the Breast of the Mother feeding the land with her milk. But they were in conjunction at other times, and when they were low on the horizon like this they resembled an eye. Kantees offered a prayer to the Mother, thanking her for her blessing.

Sheesha’s speed increased. Kantees had not instructed him but he was his own master. Under the gaze of the Mother he drew in his wings and the golden magic surrounded them. Kantees could feel the difference between now and how it had been the previous day. Today Sheesha was drawing the power from outside himself—perhaps from the Mother herself—instead of exhausting himself.

She knew she had learnt something important as they arrowed through the sky.

But once again it was difficult to know whether they would travel too far. Up here above the clouds it was even more difficult to determine how fast they were going. If Sheesha took the power from outside himself did he move more quickly?

If he took strength from a ley-circle did that mean he could not travel far using that power? If he was being fed by the Mother directly now—as she thought he must be—could he travel longer and without tiring?

Then there was the fact that the conjunctions of the moons did not last long because Colimar moved more quickly than Lostimal. She looked up and peered through the golden light. It was as if the Eye of the Mother was looking to the right and no longer directly at them.

She urged Sheesha to slow down. She did not want him tiring the way he had yesterday.

He was obedient and this time he managed the transition from swift flight to normal smoothly, which was just as well since they were so far above the ground. He extended his wings and they glided.

Ulina had said nothing the whole time but Kantees could feel her heart pounding as she held her close. They had travelled so far that the clouds below them were now broken with gaps between. The sight through those gaps was as astonishing as the tops of the clouds had been when she first saw them.

Greens and browns of the landscape, and thankfully the wide river still in view, but there was something up ahead she could not quite make out.

At her urging Sheesha went into a dive. Not steep but enough to let them lose height and come through one of the gaps. Behind them the lands of Esternes were still hidden in the grey of rain. Below were forests but ahead there was a line across the landscape.

The river ran along to it and then disappeared over the edge. It was a cliff that ran across the centre of the land.

Sheesha crossed the line of the cliff. The fall was tremendous and the escarpment ran across the landscape as if someone had cut the rock of the earth and pushed the section up. There were dozens of waterfalls but even from a great distance they could hear the thunder where the Zephira fell. A cloud of water spray filled the air, where it struck the land below and formed itself once more into a river and continued to the south-east.

A great town that seemed to be split above and below stood on the banks of the higher and lower rivers; it had to be Cliffedge. Now, as Kantees looked down at it, she understood the Prince’s Gantry.

At the top of the waterfall, and at its base where the spray filled the air, channels had been cut to form a network of canals and wharfs where boats queued and waited to be taken up or brought down on the Prince’s Gantry.

And there it was: a huge construction of metal, wood and stone with arms standing out from the edge, from which hung two baskets—so huge they could carry an entire boat. At this moment one was at the top, another at the bottom. Its design was easy to understand, but of a magnitude that was hard to comprehend. With both baskets full they would be winched so that the one rose while the other fell. Even at this distance as she circled around, the ropes were visible as black lines against the cliff. They must be an arms-length in diameter.

She wondered how much magic must be used to make the entire structure strong enough to carry the boats, as well as make it rise and fall. And how brave and foolhardy both the sailors in their boats must be, as well as the men who worked the machine.

She shook her head. It was not a thing she needed to worry about. Even if a basket fell from the top to the bottom, she doubted the trade would ever stop. It could not afford to. But what she and Ulina needed was a place to stay and somewhere they could get some food.

She thought about the coin in her bag. She needed to exchange that into smaller currency so they could spend it.

Once more she stared at the split town of Cliffedge. This time she looked at the buildings; both halves of the town had a large barracks set slightly off to one side. The defence of the place was taken very seriously. If she landed above, in the light, she would attract more attention than going down into the dripping and shadowy mists at the base of the cliff.

She set Sheesha into a descending spiral.

Entering the mists at the base of the great waterfall was similar to flying through the clouds to reach the blue of the sky, something she found herself longing for, because instead of light they were heading into dark. Even though it was not yet night and there was grey light above, in the damp mists it was shadowy with only the constant roar of the waterfall in her ears.

Sheesha touched down.

Kantees slipped to the ground and her feet squished into mud. Ulina landed beside her and, to Kantees’ astonishment, a small hand slipped into hers and gripped her fingers tight.

It was hard to orient herself but Kantees had aimed Sheesha for a point near a road that led out of the mist. Following it should take them into the lower town. From above the buildings had been visible, but here it was all shadow. Assuming they had landed in the right place, and with the falling water thundering off to her right, Kantees set off with Ulina still holding her hand.

Kantees glanced back to see that Sheesha was following.

There was no way of knowing what reception they would get but she was tired of trying to keep Sheesha away from people. It hadn’t worked out very well, so perhaps if she just acted as if everything was normal—that having a massive zirichak walking along behind was not unusual—perhaps they might make better progress.

She found the road, slightly raised from the surroundings and composed largely of stone so the water drained. Kantees turned towards the waterfall.

Windowless buildings loomed out of the grey. At first she thought they must be storehouses, but when she reached the front of the first she could see a picture of different types of bread next to writing she could not read. Something inside made her angry; why should she not be able to read just because she had been a slave? She wasn’t a slave any longer. She would learn as soon as she had a chance.

This place would do as well as any other.

She climbed the steps, followed by Ulina, and tried the door. It seemed to be locked. Now she was close she could smell the baking and it made her mouth water. She knocked hard. She could not be sure but she thought she heard a sound from inside, so she took a step back.

A door slammed inside and then locks were turned on the one she faced. She glanced back, Sheesha seemed very interested in what was going on.

“You stay here, Sheesha.” She paused. “Try not to scare any passers-by.”

She shook her head and looked down at Ulina staring back up at her.

“I hope he doesn’t get into trouble,” said Kantees.

“Sheesha knows what you want,” said Ulina.

“And I know what he wants. We’d better buy something for him as well as ourselves.”

The door opened and a man stood there. “It’s late. We’re closed.”

“We need food,” said Kantees.

“I have nothing for beggars.”

Then his eyes went from Kantees to something behind her. She heard Sheesha make a little growl in the back of his throat.

“We’re not beggars,” said Kantees. “I am delivering this ziri. I have money. We’ve been travelling all day and need food.”

The man only had eyes for Sheesha, and Kantees could tell from the way the man’s eyes moved that the ziri was moving his head to the side and round Kantees.

“Can we come in? Sheesha won’t hurt you, if he can have something to eat too.”

The man backed away and gestured to them, his eyes still on the monster behind her. Kantees and Ulina followed him.

“Stay, Sheesha,” Kantees said again, more for the effect on the man than a need to reinforce her instructions. After all, the big ziri wouldn’t fit anyway.

Inside the door was a short passage with barely enough room for the three of them. The man pointed behind her and for a moment she thought he was still bothered about Sheesha but then he wiggled his finger and she shut the door. The space was very dark and she would have thought it to be some sort of trap if the man had not been in there with them.

There was the sound of another door opening and warm dry air wafted in, carrying the heavenly scent of baking and sweet bread.

7

A  woman Kantees took for the wife of the baker stared at them from behind a counter. She had a cloth in her hand resting on the surface she had been cleaning.

“We’re closed,” she said, almost as if the words came out of her mouth without thought.

“Special circumstances,” said the man. His tone suggested fear and the woman frowned at Kantees and then down at Ulina, who did not, Kantees thought, ever give the impression of being a sweet girl.

“I’m sorry,” said Kantees. “We insisted. We’re travelling south to Dakastown and haven’t eaten all day.”

“We don’t do charity except for the Taymalins,” said the woman.

“I can pay.”

“We’re closed.”

Kantees shut her eyes. Why did everything have to be so hard? She opened them again and was about to speak when the man beat her to it.

“They have a zirichak outside.”

The woman frowned at him. “What’s that got to do with it?”

“It scared me.”

“Look,” said Kantees, pulling out the coin and tossing it on to the counter in front of the woman. In the light of the candles the gold glinted. “I don’t mind paying more, a special rate; I don’t even mind if the bread you have is stale.”

“Stale?” The woman’s head jerked up from where she had been staring at the coin in front of her. “We don’t sell stale bread.”

The sight of the gold seemed to have persuaded her. She put down the cloth and ordered her husband into the back to fetch a selection of goods.

“Have you got a basket?”

“Only my bag.”

“How much do you need?”

“Enough to get to Dakastown.”

“We can’t give you enough for a five-day, you wouldn’t be able to carry it.”

“Less than a day, we are riding the ziri.”

If the bakers knew that riding a ziri was forbidden to slaves they did not mention it. Cliffedge had no Ziri Tower, they did not hold races, otherwise Kantees would have been here before.

“But we are also heading back north so we would like as much bread and as many pies as we can carry,” said Kantees. “And if you can give us change for the coin that would help.”

She looked down at the coin and Kantees could almost see the woman calculating. She picked it up and weighed it in her hand, then studied it. “You come from Kurvin Port?”

Kantees nodded. “Hamalain.”

“I don’t know that we can give you enough in change for this.”

“I’m tired, Kantees,” said Ulina. “Do we have to go on tonight?”

It was true they would not get a great distance before they had to rest for the night, and it would be another night in the open sleeping under Sheesha’s wing.

“Can we pay for the night as well?”

The woman shrugged. “You can sleep here, I suppose.”

“But our ziri needs to come in out of the rain.”

“It’s not rain, sweetie, it’s the fall.”

Kantees nodded. “But do you have a place we could stay with the ziri?”

“If you don’t mind sleeping in the storeroom. Kantees, is it?”

“Yes, this is Ulina, and Sheesha is outside.”

“Is it dangerous?”

“He,” said Kantees. “Only dangerous to people who threaten him or me.”

“Or me,” said Ulina.

“We will do our best not to threaten, then. My name is Martorie, my husband is Tarl.”

She called him out of the back and explained they did not need to prepare the food now because the guests would be staying the night.

“I still can’t give you enough change for the coin,” said Martorie.

“I’ll just take what you can give,” said Kantees.

“We’ll have no change for anyone else.”

Kantees felt very tired. It really wasn’t her problem. Either the woman was going to help them or not. They could solve their own difficulties, she was going to be overpaying so much they could deal with it.

“Why is the town in the mist and not outside it? Wouldn’t it make your life a lot easier?”

“Patterner’s magic won’t protect anyone outside the fall.”

“Why not?”

She shrugged. “No one told us why; the patterners keep their magic to themselves like they do everywhere. They just tell us their magic won’t protect us outside the fall, so we stay inside the fall like we always have.”

Kantees didn’t argue, but it seemed a ridiculous explanation. What sort of protective magic were they using anyway? Protection from what?

“If you want to bring your ziri around to the back of the building Tarl will let you into the storeroom. We’ll heat up some food and bring it through.”

Kantees thanked her and told Ulina to stay while she fetched Sheesha.

“No, I’m coming with you.”

“You’ll just get wet again.”

“I’m coming.” She tightened her grip on Kantees’ hand.

Kantees looked down into the child’s eyes and realised Ulina did not trust her and thought she might just fly away. The idea had not crossed Kantees’ mind but there was no point trying to tell Ulina that, she wouldn’t believe it.

Instead Kantees smiled and nodded. “Of course. You can help me.”

It was not long before they were in the storeroom, dusty with the brown flour that coated everything and turned into a crust on anything damp. Kantees, Ulina and Sheesha soon had patchy congealed lumps all over them.

But it was warm and dry. Martorie brought them a couple of blankets along with a tray of food piled high. She had stopped short at the door when she saw Sheesha.

However, she overcame her initial shock—perhaps because at that moment Sheesha was busy investigating the feathers under one wing—and delivered the bread and pies. They were not stale but were going hard. It didn’t matter.

Kantees peeled off her clothes and had Ulina do the same. Kantees wrapped the child in her blanket and then wrapped the other around herself, tucking it in above her bust to hold it in place. Not that she had much in that area. She had noticed men preferred women with big bosoms so she couldn’t fathom why Daybian had been so attracted to her, but then she knew he was an idiot when it came to such things.

There was nothing they could do about the damp on Sheesha, and he seemed unconcerned about caking his bright feathers with lumps of flour.

A wave of tiredness came over Kantees. She had been focused all day on their goal, first at the charcoal burners and then flying above the clouds. She smiled at the memory. Then shook her head and glanced at Sheesha. Now he was investigating his rear end in that unconcerned way animals have.

It didn’t matter to him that he flew faster than an arrow.

Kantees yawned. She moved a sack of flour and rested her head on it. Her scalp had started to itch as her hair grew out. She should get it shaved, she thought.

8

T  hey were loaded with food. The bread would become hard in a day and the pies would not last much longer, but it was more than they had had for a long time.

After flying for a while through the bright morning, they had landed on an island in a place where the river widened. Kantees had sent Sheesha off to find some food while she and Ulina cleaned themselves and their clothes, still coated in a sticky layer of damp and caked flour, in the sluggish water.

The sun had decided to appear today and it helped to dry them thoroughly, more than they had been in a couple of days. Kantees thought about what the baker’s wife had said about the magic and shook her head. She could not imagine what sort of protective patterns might be woven into the mists—let alone what they protected against.

The couple had been vague on that, they simply did as they were told.

It was just another exercise in power as far as Kantees was concerned. The patterners claimed there was a spell and the people believed them even though it meant they ended up living in the middle of mist that never lifted and soaked everything. Not that they seemed unhappy.

By the time Kantees and Ulina had finished cleaning and drying themselves, Sheesha returned and landed lightly in the glade that lay alongside the river on this side of the island. He preened himself and settled down for a sleep. Kantees got the strong impression he had eaten well, just as they had with their bread rolls and meat-filled pies all wrapped in a greased but edible material to keep them dry.

While Sheesha slept, she and Ulina walked across to the other side of the island to where trees overhung the water. They disturbed a gaggle of creatures that looked like sikechasa but were bigger. They moved like a flock of birds but dove in and out of the surface of the water. Kantees had no idea what they were but they did look like they would make a fine meal—if she were able to hunt, but she did not have that skill.

“You know how to hunt, Ulina. You got that sikechak in the charcoal woods?”

“I know how to kill, Kantees.”

The child had opened a door to her past but that was not a journey Kantees wanted to make. Ulina’s bloodthirsty habits and wicked knife could stay her secret.

There was a boat sailing south with the river. It had a pair of red triangular sails bowed out in the wind and, with the current, seemed to be making good speed. On the vessel’s deck, a couple of men were tending to ropes, and another climbing down the mast while one at the back controlled the tiller. Kantees could see their cargo in boxes piled high between the masts. There were probably more below.

This vessel would have come down the Prince’s Gantry. Perhaps the ship and crew had made that trip many times—more than likely. It was a terrifying thought. Kantees did not mind being higher than the clouds on the back of Sheesha, but the thought of dangling from ropes in a huge basket holding such a heavy boat made her fingers curl in fear.

One of the men waved at them. Kantees froze. In some strange way she had imagined that she and Ulina must be invisible; they watched the world pass by but the world could not see them. Then she raised her hand and returned the gesture even though it was tight and small.

“Do you know that man?” asked Ulina as the vessel slid silently past only a stone’s throw away.

The man was still looking at Kantees and she had a sudden flash of recognition: The charcoal town. The hunter. A surge of fear ran through her and she went cold.

“I don’t know him,” she said. Even she could tell her voice was strained as she said it.

“Don’t lie to me, Kantees.”

Was she really that transparent? She was supposed be a very accomplished liar. Clearly not this time.

The man was smoking a pipe and he grinned at her. So close she almost felt he might leap into the river and swim to them. But he did not move, just gave her another wave as the vessel slipped away downstream.

“You know him.”

“No,” said Kantees and almost said no more, but Ulina’s words from before came back to her. “I mean I don’t know who he is, but I do recognise him. He was in the town when the mob came after us. He was leading them. He was the one who knew where we were.”

“What does he want?”

“I don’t know.”

But he had tried to make the crowd attack, and whatever his purpose was it had not been friendly then. There was no reason to suppose his intention had changed.

“Come on,” she said, turning back to make the two dozen paces across the island that would return them to Sheesha.

He was asleep.

Kantees glanced at the sky. The hunter must have been travelling fast as well. But if he was on that boat and the wind and the current were with them perhaps it would be fast enough. There was a great deal of trade on the river and she had seen for herself how full the wharfs at the top were. The mechanism probably ran all night as well as all day.

The boat could have sailed in after her in the late evening and been carried down during the night. They had already been here some time before they’d seen it.

How much time would they have at Dakastown before he arrived? If she had any idea of the distance between Cliffedge and the charcoal town they had left yesterday afternoon she could determine how fast Sheesha flew.

She looked at the ziri lying comfortably and at perfect peace on the bed of damp leaves.

If he would only wake up now perhaps they could reach Dakastown by day’s end. They had money in a more useful form and some spare clothes the baker’s wife had produced for them, which were more respectable than the tatters they wore now. Kantees did not want to change until they were closer.

A plan formed as she sat down to eat another pie.

Sheesha woke at about midday and they loaded him up—he did not complain about the extra bags—and they took to the sky once more. The weather was still overcast but it did not feel as if it would rain. Kantees took Sheesha up through the clouds and they bathed in the sunlight, even though the air was cold.

Kantees allowed Sheesha to increase his speed and they moved smoothly into the realm of ziri magic. As they flashed across the hills and valleys of the brilliant white clouds she caught glimpses of the land below.

The river was not hard to follow, as it continued to widen and reflected the brightness of the sky above it. Sheesha responded to her movements to change direction as the course of the waterway turned somewhat to the east.

As they sped on, the clouds ahead piled up in higher and higher ranges, like mountains of fluff. And they became darker. Flashes of brightness flickered within them. Kantees urged Sheesha to slow and they descended once more, but this time into torrential rain.

Though it was still daylight the world had grown dark and the wind blasted the rain at them from all sides. Ulina nestled back into Kantees gripping her loose, and soaked, clothing.

If only they could remain above the clouds forever in sunlight.

They could not see far through the downpour. Kantees set the tired ziri into a descent spiral. Gliding allowed him to preserve his strength, although he needed to adjust all the time as the wind buffeted them. She was careful. Dakastown was on the coast and she was aware they might have overshot their target once more. They could be over the sea instead of land.

For a moment she thought they had done just that, as a body of water was revealed below them—and then she panicked as she realised the spiralling meant she had no idea which way they had been travelling and could not retrace their route to return to land.

But the water below did not move like the sea. There were no waves, and plants in huge clumps protruded from the surface, suggesting it was not very deep. It was either a marsh or the edges of a lake. There was a light in the distance—even though Kantees had no idea which direction that was. A light meant people.

She turned Sheesha that way. The illumination seemed to be low, close to the level of the water, but it shone out as they approached. It had a greenish hue, unlike anything Kantees recognised.

She peered into the gloom trying to make out whether there was a building or a boat but there was not a shadow of either. Something nagged her from the depths of her memory as the light grew ever closer. Sheesha hesitated in flight as doubt filled her.

Three things happened at once.

The light went out as a huge spout of water erupted directly in front of them. Sheesha had no time to dodge and his head disappeared into it. But he sheared off to the left, losing height as he did so.

Ulina screamed.

The torrent of water subsided and half a dozen lights flashed on around them.

Kantees groaned as she tried to force the tired ziri to climb as fast as he could. More geysers shot upwards around them, one from each of the glowing green lights. One hit Sheesha in the wing and he lost height again.

Dakastown! Kantees realised. It had that name for a reason, she just hadn’t been thinking. These waters were filled with dakasa and she had fallen for their lure. She was beginning to panic. The waters all around were lighting up to the point she could see the moving shapes of the almost transparent creatures beneath the water. There must be hundreds of them. Sheesha couldn’t avoid every geyser of water and each one caused him to lose height. He was holding his own for the present, but he was already tired and she could feel him weakening.

If they couldn’t escape they would die.

Sheesha needed more strength.

Dakastown had a ley-circle. A big one. It seemed to glow in the distance.

Another huge burst of water caught Sheesha in the middle and she and Ulina were soaked. Kantees did not know how he could keep flying.

Kantees reached out to Sheesha and directed his attention to the ley-circle. Its golden power flowed effortlessly into the weary ziri. Sheesha wrapped himself in its power just as he had in Kurvin Port and shot forward like an arrow. Behind them the waterspouts erupted, but the three of them were gone before the creatures even noticed.

The patch of lights disappeared behind them.

The power of the ley-circle became a guide. Kantees turned Sheesha and they followed the thread of golden power towards its source. Moments later they were over dry land and Kantees had Sheesha release the power. He back-winged and brought them to a shivering halt above a wood. In the distance she could see the glow of lights from the seaport through the haze of the rain, and beyond it the bay.

Sheesha dropped down into a small open space between the trees. Kantees hoped the fact that Sheesha was a big male zirichak would keep any predators away from them. Or he would warn them if something big came their way. Here the rain was no more than a light drizzle but Kantees still wished it would stop. She was tired of being wet all the time.

It was then she realised Ulina was crying and not trying to get off. Awkwardly, Kantees got herself down on to the ground and tried to persuade the girl to dismount. But she just kept crying.

Kantees was at a loss. She knew the dakasa were scary but they had survived, hadn’t they?

“Jump down, Ulina.”

The girl remained resolutely on the ziri’s back.

Kantees removed the various bags. They were wet on the outside but it seemed the containers from the lower part of Cliffedge were designed to keep moisture out. The food was still edible.

But Ulina did not get down, even when tempted with a pie.

“Sheesha cannot get himself dry when you are on his back,” said Kantees. That at least seemed to produce a response. Ulina looked up, and Sheesha chose that moment to bring his head round and look at the girl on his back.

“I’m scared,” she said. And it seemed to Kantees that Ulina was talking to Sheesha and not to her. Sheesha brought his muzzle to a point barely a hands-breadth from Ulina’s face. He was so big he could probably have swallowed the girl in a single bite, and just as Kantees was noticing that, Sheesha opened his mouth. Kantees gasped in horror as if her thought was going to come true. Sheesha’s tongue snaked out and he licked Ulina’s face.

“Ugh!” she cried and pushed his snout away. Sheesha grumbled and then nudged her.

“He knows you’re scared, Ulina. He won’t let anything happen to you. There are no monsters here.”

Finally making up her mind, Ulina brought her leg over and slipped into Kantees’ waiting arms. They were both treated to a shower of water as Sheesha shook himself. The water flashed off his feathers, which shimmered in the dim light. He then lay down and was asleep in moments.

That’s that for the day then, thought Kantees. Another delay. She sighed and munched through one of the pies.

9

She woke before dawn, shook Sheesha awake and packed up before waking Ulina. The rain had stopped but a dampness still hung in the air.

The idea had come to her in the night. It was an audacious plan but she was tired of skulking and hiding. There were risks of course but, if things went to plan, they could be finished and out of Dakastown before nightfall.

Kantees hesitated. She was aware that none of her plans had worked out the way she had intended so far, but that had been because she was dealing with too many things she did not know or understand.

The beauty of her new plan was that it dealt with things she did understand.

She dressed in her new clothes and had Ulina do the same. They still looked like slaves but that was just as it should be. They no longer looked like ragged runaways and that was important.

She knew that Sheesha wanted to hunt; he must be very hungry after yesterday’s exertions, but the other part of the plan meant that he would also get fed.

She loaded up the ziri, who grumbled, and mounted with Ulina. Sheesha lifted from the ground and Kantees found the power source that was the Dakastown ley-circle. She had Sheesha take the power and they shot away directly towards it. Once upon a time, she knew from her previous life, the circle had been at ground level, but there had been an earthquake that had levelled Dakastown almost completely over a hundred years ago. It had caused the ground to sink and now the ley-circle was the height of two men in the air.

This had not presented a major problem and the patterners had created a movable deck of wood. It was taken away during a feeding to prevent it being destroyed. Kantees had travelled to Dakastown for the races and knew the layout.

It took Sheesha no time at all to traverse the distance, and he landed with a gentle thump and scraping of talons. Quickly, before anybody checked, Kantees dropped to the wooden deck and pulled Ulina after her, along with the bags and containers.

“Identify yourself!” cried a voice from beyond the edge of the deck.

“Forgive me, master, I am a ziri slave from the house of Jakalain. I bring my charge, Sheesha, for my master Lord Daybian to ride.”

There was movement at the edge of the circle and Kantees dropped to her knees and put her face to the wood, pulling Ulina down too. “Do what I do,” she said quietly.

With her head down she could not see what was happening, but it sounded as if at least two, perhaps three, sets of feet climbed on to the planking and made their way forwards.

Sheesha hissed. They stopped.

“There are no races scheduled.”

“Forgive me, master, I am only a slave and obey as I am instructed.”

Kantees hated this obeisance. It had been barely a ten-day since she had run away from Jakalain, and it was a habit she was keen to lose.

There was muttering between the men. “No patterner’s path was opened.”

“Forgive me, master. I do not know of such things. The patterners of Jakalain did the will of our lord and I was sent.” She hesitated and then added, “How else could we be here?”

It was a risk. A comment that could get her beaten but she hoped that they would be tired enough to think that someone had made a mistake.

One of the men gave a whistle three times in quick succession and Kantees heard swords being sheathed. Protection of ley-circles was taken seriously, especially when an arrival was unexpected. But, after a fashion, Sheesha himself was his own validation: only the nobility owned zirichasa, so if one arrived in a ley-circle it must have been ordered by someone of noble blood, and could not be questioned by the likes of these men.

The sun broached the horizon and Sheesha’s feathers glistened in its light.

There was further muttered discussion and finally Kantees was invited to descend to ground level, bringing her assistant and her charge.

Ziri racing was popular in Dakastown and there were holding areas, owned by the Otulain family and provided for the animals of visiting nobility before and after they had travelled. Kantees knew them well enough—as did Sheesha.

They did not require any guidance but the eyries were not staffed since no race was planned. These temporary residencies for zirichasa were not like a Ziri Tower, although they were given the name eyrie. Instead they were single storey, round stone structures with an open space in the centre allowing a ziri to fly in and out. There were suitably-sized rooms for the ziri and accommodation for the keepers. Far superior to what she was used to in the tower. Dakastown—and the Otulain family—was serious about its racing.

Kantees demanded, and got, food for them all, though it took a while to arrive and the sun was high before she felt she could leave.

“Stay with Sheesha, Ulina.”

“I want to go with you.”

“Someone must remain with Sheesha, and I have to find out about the Dunor.”

“Will they let you out?”

“I will tell them I must deliver a letter.”

“I’m sure they will believe you, Kantees,” said Ulina. “You are a good liar.”

Kantees sighed. She suspected Ulina would never let her forget their argument, and the fact that Ulina did not know whether Kantees could be trusted at all. Well, she must simply demonstrate she was trustworthy, though the constant need to tell falsehoods did not help her position.

“If there’s any trouble,” said Kantees, “let Sheesha fly you. Travel up the river and I will find you.”

“Unless you are dead.”

“Wait a five-day.” And what then? The child could not be expected to fly Sheesha to find Yenteel and the tekrak. She would have to make sure she was not dead, otherwise all Ulina’s limited trust would be gone.

Kantees also gave Sheesha a good talking to and explained that he must protect Ulina. Not that she expected him to understand but he rested his head on her shoulder, which she had come to learn was a sign of his affection—even though he had no idea of his weight and tended to crush a person to their knees if they weren’t prepared.

She knew she was wasting time. She needed to get out; if all went well this should take less than a day. Unfortunately, nothing they had done thus far had gone to plan. So, with her bag of what remained of the pies—the staff would continue to feed Sheesha and Ulina—she set off into the town.

The bustle of people along the cobbled streets, mingling with the carts and animals, was a shock and for a while she was disoriented. She had known it once, though as a young house slave she was not allowed out. For so many years she had been alone in the Ziri Tower, with only the occasional race to extend her experience of people. Even then she was always required to be close to Sheesha. Never on her own.

The closest to this had been Kurvin Port, but even then they had not walked the streets, only seen it from above.

Now she was alone in the crowds that batted her one way and another, and it was only as she allowed herself to be carried along by the flow of people that she realised she was not sure where she was going.

Her master’s house had been set halfway up a slope and it was from the rear windows that she could see the sea. She reached a square and the current of people grew less intense. The road and buildings dropped away towards the water and a statue of Taymar stood at its centre on a marble pedestal. The figure looked out to the water.

Kantees stood down the slope from the statue herself and looked out across the roofs. The bay was so big you could not see from one side to the other, but it provided a wonderfully calm surface upon which hundreds of vessels fished. The south-east of the bay met a range of high hills, the Telaquin, which became a line of islands threading out into the sea towards the coast of the mainland. From the windows at the back of her old master’s house, the Telaquin were almost directly ahead. And from here they were to the right.

That meant she must go to the left and make her way around to a point above the main harbour on which Dakastown stood. She was wary of entering the back streets so she kept to the main ones. She was sure that as she got closer to the right place she would remember.

She was wrong.

10

K  antees stood in the middle of a street she did not recognise. It was paved in smooth white stone with thin lines of red running through it. The walls that ran along each side of it were constructed from the same material and she found the way the road dwindled into the distance to be almost hypnotic. At intervals were pillars topped with foliage, and from them hung large ornate lanterns.

This was not a road she knew.

When she had grown up here there had been estates on either side reaching up to the ridge above and down towards the sea. There were buildings up the slope, but instead of the lines of homes crammed one against the other these were the houses of the rich, set apart from one another with delicate paths criss-crossing lawns of flower beds tended by Kadralin gardeners.

She crossed to the other side and looked over. Parkland greeted her eye. Every building that had been here, right down to the water’s edge where the sea lapped the beaches, was gone. It was as if her memories had been ripped from her, and if they were an anchor in the past she was now afloat and drifting without oar or tiller.

Leaning on the wall she looked down. Rich people walked there, and there was nothing for her. Her old master was gone.

She knew what must have happened: the Otulain had decided to remodel their town.

Her fingers curled into fists and she slammed them down on to the wall. “Why is it never simple?” she shouted to no one in particular.

She took a deep breath. If her master had been a butcher or a tailor it would have been simple, she would simply ask where their street had been moved. But she could not ask where Kevrey of Tander had gone; he had never been popular, and the patterners in particular did not like his trade in information.

But if she could not find him who else could she ask about the Dunor? That name thrown at her by a minor raider on the top of the bell tower at Jakalain. If only he had kept his peace then she would not have heard the name and would not be chasing across the world to find out what it meant.

“Are you lost?”

Kantees was on her knees in a moment and staring at the ground. The cultured tones of the speaker could only mean that this man, whoever he was, was a high-caste Taymalin. She needed to remember her place. And remember that Sheesha and Ulina were waiting for her.

Whoever he was, he became tired of waiting for her to respond. “Do you have your tongue still?”

“I beg your forgiveness, master. I will leave.”

“I asked if you were lost. You seemed … frustrated.”

“It is nothing, master. I will leave.” She twisted round as if about to head back into the town.

“Not until you answer my questions.”

Kantees closed her eyes. This was exactly the kind of trouble she wanted to avoid but she had been stupid. So surprised by this new street, she had allowed herself to become the object of someone’s attention.

“I am sorry, master. I was looking for somewhere. I must have come the wrong way.”

“Perhaps I can help, where did you want to be?”

Now Kantees was confused, Taymalin did not offer help to Kadralin slaves. The man must have another motive, most likely he wanted what Daybian had wanted: her body. Though Daybian claimed he would not have taken what was not freely offered, which was good except he could not understand why she did not want him.

“I beg your pardon, sire, please, I will just leave.”

“I do believe you’re avoiding the question.”

To compound the issue, she heard the sound of iron-shod hooves clattering on to the road from the direction of the town. At least three horses. Of course they were horses and not kichesa, the highest born of the Taymalin preferred these new mounts.

“Levin, what are you doing with that slave?” cried a woman’s voice. She seemed amused.

“Mistress Deenya, the girl is lost and I was putting her on the right road.”

“The road to your bedchamber I have no doubt.”

“You wound me, madam.” If he were truly hurt, he hid it behind the laughter in his words.

“And if those words could wound you then I believe you would have been long in your grave, Levin.”

From the sound of his voice, Kantees thought he must be looking at the new arrival, having turned his back on her; she lifted her head slightly to see if she could at least get an idea of the people she was dealing with.

“She is trying to see whether you are worthy of her.”

Mother’s milk! Damn the woman.

“What is your name, girl?”

Kantees swore under her breath again. “Mina, mistress.”

“And your master?”

“Kevrey of Tander.” The words just fell out, she needed to lie and his was the first name that came to mind. She cringed.

“Ha! That old fool?” said the woman. “Why are you here?”

“Indeed,” said the man. “If my memory does not fail me I believe he lived hereabouts before the new palace was built—”

“Still being built,” she said. “The place is a hovel.”

“—so why would you be here, Mina?”

This time the answer flowed out of her so easily she almost believed it herself. “I beg your pardon, my lord, my lady. My master owed a debt to the Jakalain and chose to have me indenture there for several years. I am only just returned and came to where I know he used to be, only to find it transformed into this beautiful place.”

“Jakalain,” she said derisively. “Those yokels.”

“Very good, Mina, and now you have answered all my questions.”

“I wouldn’t take her to your bed, Lev, she’s probably as filthy as they are. You’ll never get the smell off your body.”

Kantees’ anger was building but she held it in check. These people could be death to her. Besides, she had no intention of going to his bed, she would never be able to wash away his stench either.

“I am honoured by your concern, Mistress Deenya,” he said.

Kantees could see well enough that she did not miss his sweeping bow to the woman. Could it possibly contain a hint of disrespect? Perhaps, since Mistress Deenya did not seem a pleasant woman. Kantees was not familiar with the other families and did not know whether she was an Otulain—or this Levin either.

She was saved any further embarrassment as Mistress Deenya and her two attendants moved off along the lane. “This road is ridiculous,” she called back. “Why couldn’t your father have built his new palace at this end so we didn’t have to ride all the way along here just to get to it? It’s so windy.”

There was barely a breeze.

The one called Levin did not reply but watched her go. Once the sound of hooves had dropped to the merest echo, he turned back to Kantees.

“Well, Mina, the palace is currently looking considerably less attractive than it did just a short time ago. Since your master has moved, I will show you where he has gone, shall I?”

Kantees was torn. A guide would be very useful but the last thing she needed was a Taymalin—and an Otulain at that, possibly the heir—in attendance when all she wanted was to ask about the Dunor and get out.

“In fact, you do smell,” he said casually as they walked back towards the town.

“I am sorry, my lord, I have been travelling a good while.” She put more distance between them and dropped back. He stopped.

“I wish you to walk closer so I can talk to you.”

The last thing she wanted. “Yes, my lord.”

“You smell of ziri.”

“I was required to work with them, sire.”

“I thought I recognised you.” Kantees felt her heart plummet, could this get any worse? “How is Daybian?”

Kidnapped and taken by the Dunor while he was covering my escape. “He was well when I last saw him, sire.” And that wasn’t even a lie, though he had been in the middle of a battle. Thankfully he did not ask her any further questions but only spoke of the changes to the town in the last few years. Dakastown was the main trading centre between the mainland, across the Strait of Esternes, and the interior of Esternes itself via the river. It had commerce in plenty and the Otulain were wealthy.

Levin carried himself with the confidence she had seen in a few of the high-caste Taymalin. So comfortable in their position they did not need to condescend to those who were below them, and in them was a willingness to speak with and even learn from anyone. It was not an unpleasant trait, but sadly lacking in the majority of the masters.

And, when all was said and done, she was still a slave—at least as far as he was concerned—and that someone might be the property of another did not concern him. It was the natural order, to his mind.

As they moved deeper into the town the number of people grew and it became necessary for Kantees to walk behind Levin. A position she certainly preferred.

They crossed the road by which she had entered the town and headed round into the low hills on the other side. Rivers and streams poured from each valley and the main thoroughfare crossed each in sweeping arches. This was all new and, unlike the road to the palace, it thronged with people and animals.

Levin made good progress, as if he were a ship cutting through the waves; the people parted before him. Animals, however, took no notice of his rank and those he needed to walk around.

Finally, they took a side street going uphill. Kantees was relieved they were not heading down, because that would have meant her old master had lost what little rank he held in the town’s society. Downhill meant that the sewage of those above descended to the houses below, while uphill meant good air and light.

The shops on either side were a mixture of scribes, lawyers, and map-makers doing a good trade by the number of people there—all of them in good quality clothing, even the ones that were obviously sailors.

She peeked in through the window of one of the map-makers as they passed. On an easel, looking out, was a detailed map of—well she did not know where, and even if she had been able to read they moved by too fast.

How big was Esternes? Big enough that a zirichasa flying at the speed of an arrow would take perhaps two days to travel from its middle to its southern coast. A trip that might take a boat perhaps three or four times that.

And then Levin stopped at a door. The windows were shuttered and it looked unoccupied. There was a wooden sign beside the door, unlike most shops which had a picture or small statue to represent their trade. This one had nothing but words. Which she could not read.

“Here he is,” said Levin. He stared at the shutters and then stepped back to look at the upper windows. Kantees glanced up, one of them was open. Levin rapped on the door.

They waited. Nothing happened. Levin knocked again, this time louder.

Kantees desperately wanted him to decide it was not worth waiting but he seemed as intent on getting a response as she would have been.

“Lazy excuse for a trader.”

“He thinks you’re the bailiff, my lord,” came a voice from behind them. Kantees turned, but although there were several people looking in their direction from the other shops, it was impossible to tell who had spoken.

“Kevrey of Tander! This is Levin of Otulain. I demand entry.”

The sound of something being knocked over, and a voice swearing came from above. Then a head haloed with unkempt hair poked out, looked down at them and then disappeared back inside. Silhouetted against the sun, Kantees was uncertain whether it had been her old master.

Words floated down to them. “Patience, my lord, you cannot hurry wisdom.”

That definitely was Kevrey. She sighed in relief. It had taken more days than she had counted on but at least she was here now and could get an answer to her question. Assuming that he knew it. That had been nagging at her. What if he didn’t know?

She shook her head. He must know. He had always known everything. Or he made up something convincing. She sighed again. If there were any place that she could lay the blame for her skill at subterfuge, it was the tongue of Kevrey of Tander.

It took a while but finally there was the sound of bolts being drawn back, and with a final click of a key the door opened into a dark interior. The smell that wafted out made a ziri eyrie seem a bouquet of flowers. She recognised the smell of stale alcohol, and that was just from Kevrey himself. Other smells included rotting meat—something else she was familiar with—and a musky odour hiding behind something intensely sweet. The contrast did not make the overall effect any easier to tolerate; on the contrary, it emphasised the unpleasantness of it all.

His clothes looked as if they were the same ones he had been wearing when she had been sold to Jakalain, now threadbare and considerably more soiled.

On the positive side, the appalling smells and sight might drive Levin away.

Levin glanced at Kantees then back at Kevrey, who seemed to be having difficulty focusing against the light. He was thinner than he had been, his face now so gaunt and pale he looked as if he might be on the brink of death.

Unexpectedly, Kantees felt a wave of sorrow go through her. He had been like a bright star when she had been here before. He had been so active, angry or happy he always had life. This person who stood before them was like an animated corpse.

“Kevrey of Tander?”

Her old master squinted at Levin and his eyes watered.

“It is my old master, sire, perhaps if you will permit me?”

It was bold, and in most situations would have brought her a beating, but she slipped in front of the lord and pushed the door back gently. The old man gave her a watery stare.

“Hello, master, it’s Mina. I have returned after all these years at Jakalain.”

If his wits were gone he could expose her here and now. On the other hand, if he had lost his way, it would be easy to explain his confusion as being the product of his dotage.

“Mina?”

“Yes, master, you sent me away to Jakalain. I have returned to you.”

She gently took his hands from the door and he allowed himself to be taken inside, though he stared at her face as if he was trying to place her.

She guided him to the left into the main downstairs room, which should have been the shop. There were tables and cupboards and drawers, similar to the room he had used for greeting guests before. But there were none of his things. No maps, papers, no books, no measuring devices, no looking glass. As empty as it must have been on the day he moved in.

There was a pair of chairs, and she set him down into one of them, then went to the window to open the shutters and get some fresh air and light into the place.

The locks did not want to move at first, as if they had not been opened in a long time, but she won out in the end. The light poured in and revealed a room that had not been dusted in a great while, and a grate that had held no fire in an age.

Levin of Otulain stood at the door and watched. As she threw back the final shutter he spoke. “He does not seem to know you.”

“It has been many years, sire.” She turned to the old man. In the daylight he looked worse. His skin was not just the pale pallor of the Taymalin, it possessed a tinge of yellow. His eyes were bloodshot and he blinked in the brightness.

Kantees felt a strange emotion that she could not place. Not sorrow, though it seemed to be its kin in the way it held her heart as if it would break. He was so thin.

She knelt before him and took his hand in hers. It was cold like death. “Master Kevrey, do you not recognise me?”

This was not how she had wanted to greet him. She had wanted the man she had left all those years ago, confident in his power and his knowledge. Not this wandering fool. And her lies had placed her in a difficult position if he remembered her name—

“Kantees?” His voice was frail too.

“As I said, it seems he does not recognise you.”

“Yes, I am—was—Kantees. They call me Mina now.” She held her breath. It was not unusual for masters to change the names of slaves, if they happened to wish it. She was trying to convince two people at once in different ways. “But please call me by that name if it is your wish.”

She did not look at the lord at the door. Perhaps he had not heard what Kevrey said.

“Kantees of Jakalain?” said Levin. “Of course.”

11

K  antees went as cold as the hand she was holding.

“Daybian spoke of you,” he said. “He was quite taken with your skill with his prize ziri, what was his name? Sheesha. Excellent beast.”

Kantees stayed where she was, there was no point trying to run, there was nowhere to go. He commanded the room and the exit.

Mother’s milk! Once more her lies had betrayed her. Why had he come with her? Now she knew: Kevrey had recognised her, perhaps not precisely but something in her had stirred his memory and piqued his interest.

“Master,” she said, drawing Kevrey’s attention back to her. “I must ask you a question. I can pay for the answer.”

“Don’t ignore me, girl!”

Kantees was tired of acting like a slave. She had had so many years of it and she had freed herself. This pretence was just another lie and she would do it no more. She climbed to her feet and turned to the door, facing Levin like an equal. She looked him in the eye.

“Sire, I have come a long way to ask my old master a question. If you will give me but a moment to do this thing. Then I will give you my full attention.”

His eyes narrowed. She was not sure what that meant but when he gave a curt nod she turned back to the old man in the chair. She knelt once more so that he did not have to look up at her.

“Master,” she said again. “I am Kantees. I am the slave who asked a question of you. I am the one you sold to Jakalain in disgust since I would not keep to my place.” She glanced at Levin. “Sadly, I did not learn the lesson you tried to teach me and I still do not know my place. But I have a question I must ask now, it is very important.”

“I remember you, Kantees. I remember you always pried into those things that were not yours to know. You listened at the door. I remember your bright eyes and how you devoured the knowledge I laid out for you.”

“You knew?”

He coughed, though it might have been a laugh. “Of course, I knew. Do you think for one moment there was anything that happened in my house I did not know about?”

“Oh.” Kantees frowned. Her entire world turned on its head. If he had been deliberately providing her with opportunities to learn—what did that mean? “Why?”

“I was curious to see how much you were able to understand. Being merely Kadralin.”

She jumped back as if she had been stung. Anger welled up. “We are not animals,” she hissed, barely able to prevent herself from shouting. “We are not to be taught tricks. I am a person!”

In spite of the dangerous tone in her voice, her old master allowed a smile to cross his face. “It was I who learnt a lesson, Kantees.”

She did not trust herself to speak further so she just stared at him, waiting for him to condemn himself further out of his own mouth. She wondered if she could kill the old man before Levin stopped her. How dare he!

“Are you curious to know what lesson you taught me?”

She said nothing.

“That I was an arrogant fool.” He sighed and looked away. “And this is where my hubris has brought me.” He gestured around.

“The Kadralin have their own knowledge, old man.” What you would not have given in your younger days to learn what I know of the ziri. “We do not need yours, or the corrupted wisdom of the Slissac. We built the Ziri Towers, we lived in these places before we were dispossessed. We have our own knowledge and we do not need yours.”

She heard Levin adjust his feet. Outside life continued as it always had. Inside the world was turning, spinning and changing.

“I know the name of my enemy,” she said. “Which is also the enemy of the Taymalin, but I do not know what it is. That is what you must answer.”

“But you do not know why I sent you away.”

“Because I dared ask a question. You thought you could get rid of what you’d made by throwing me away. Instead you threw me into a fire where I have become tempered and sharp.”

Kantees hesitated. She was saying all these things, as if they were true. And saying them in front of Levin, who might kill her for their utterance. It was crazy—and yet, in her heart, she knew they were the truth. At last she felt as if the words coming from her mouth were not lies. Though they would form the rope that would hang her, or the blade to cut out her heart.

“No.” The old man sighed once more. “I sent you away to protect you.”

“Ha.”

“I cared for you, Kantees. I had given you a world of knowledge and made you inquisitive. I gave you the tools to think. But those things would kill you if they became known and—” he hesitated, “—events were coming to a situation where they might have been discovered. I sold you to Jakalain to get you as far away from the Dunor as possible.”

Kantees could not have been more surprised if the old man had exploded in a cloud of golden dust.

Something brushed against her shoulder. And an arrow blossomed in Kevrey’s chest.

He looked up into Kantees’ eyes. His lips moved and his voice scraped through his throat as he fought to breathe. “My bed.”

For just a moment she saw something she did not understand, then the light faded just as something crashed into her side, knocking her across the room. A heavy weight landed on top of her.

“Stay down,” shouted Levin in her ear. He was moving again, as fast as he had brought her out of the light.

Kantees stared at the body of Kevrey. Two more arrows sprouted from his chest. Why? He’s already dead.

And then she burst into tears as if they had been waiting behind her eyes for just this moment. She rubbed at them. There was no time for this. She would have to mourn him at another time, though part of her claimed she did not need to mourn him at all. He was just another Taymalin who had used her. He had thought she was no more than an animal to be trained.

But he had learnt. She shook her head. He should not have needed to learn. That the Kadralin were people just like the Taymalin was not something that required teaching. It was in the heart of any man who saw beyond the colour of someone’s skin. Sheesha had more compassion than the Taymalin in their arrogance.

The first window shutter slammed shut.

“Taymar’s teeth!” Levin said as he crawled to the second window. “Damned if I’m going to die for an educated slave.” He pulled that closed too.

“I am not a slave,” shouted Kantees. “Weren’t you listening?”

“Yes, I was listening to the rantings of an old man who had fallen for his slave.”

“I was barely ten years old!”

Levin shrugged. “Makes no difference to some.”

“He was protecting me from the Dunor.”

“Rumours and nonsense.”

A second shock. Did everyone know about the Dunor except her? “You’ve heard of them?”

“Of course I have,” he said. “A cabal of Taymalin seeking to create an empire? Or was it to bring back the Slissac? Or perhaps to raise the Kisharuk? Take your pick. It’s all nonsense.”

“What nonsense? Who do you think wanted him killed now? Who probably wants me dead?”

“I should let them.”

“What makes you think you’ll be spared, Levin?”

“You will address me properly, slave. Mina, Kantees, whatever your name really is.”

“I’ll call you by your name, Levin. I am no slave.”

“Really, who freed you then? Daybian?”

“I freed myself!”

“Just a runaway then.”

Kantees glanced at the window trying to guess what the assassin would do next. She doubted he would want to leave them alive. Well, if he was sent by the Dunor then her life was definitely forfeit. No reason to leave a loose end like Levin around.

Who were the Dunor? It seemed Levin did not know much after all. It was just a joke to him.

Another arrow struck the shutter.

Kantees frowned. Why would someone shoot an arrow against a closed shutter?

A wisp of smoke curled through a gap, highlighted in the sunlight.

“He’s setting a fire,” Kantees said and clambered to her feet.

Levin looked, hesitated for a heartbeat, then ran for the door. “Farahalek!”

It was Kantees’ turn to be incredulous. She had heard of the assassins, they were the sort of story the Taymalin masters told their children to scare them into obedience. But they were just a story. Then again, she would not have believed in a giant tekrak if someone had told her a turn of Lostimal ago.

She was barely to the door when the world behind her erupted in fire and she was deafened by a thunderous roar. A wave of heat went across her back and slivers of shattered wood ploughed into her exposed skin. The shockwave knocked her into Levin and they both fell again.

Kantees thought of Ulina. She had to get back to the circle for the sake of the girl; she had to get away. Levin might not know much, or even believe, but it was enough to know that they were a group of powerful people who, right now, were intent on her destruction and anyone around her. If only Sheesha was here now.

If wishes were ziri, slaves would fly.

But almost immediately Levin was up again. If Kantees could admire these Taymalin men for anything, they seemed to thrive on battle. Daybian had been the same. It must be their training, always the warriors—always the conquerors.

He headed towards the back, apparently unconcerned as to whether she was following him. Of course not. But Kantees looked up at the stairs, tight and curving round abruptly. She glanced once more at Levin’s disappearing back and headed up the stairs. As she grabbed the rope that comprised the rail she saw blood on her hand. She could not feel the pain yet, that would no doubt come.

She rounded the second curve and came out into a small alcove that led directly into the room above the front. She stopped. The window was open and the shutters back. Black smoke filtered up from below, both outside and through the floorboards, and she could hear the crackle of burning wood. Across the room was the bed. If she had been a high-born Taymalin lady she might have been disgusted by the dirt and the smell—now masked by the burning wood. But she was not. She had spent years shovelling the shit of a ziri and before that she had dealt with Kevrey and all his mess. It was familiar to her, even though the location was different.

Outside there were shouts of “Fire!” and someone was beating a piece of metal with a hammer in alarm. The houses were so closely packed that a single fire unchecked could easily consume a dozen buildings. She imagined the alarm might hamper the movements of their assassin but she did not want to take any chances.

She got down on her hands and knees to crawl across the room. The floorboards were smooth and worn, though not as much as those in Kevrey’s old house had been. She reached the bed and glanced at the windows. The smoke was thicker and she fancied she could even feel the heat from below. She needed to hurry.

If Kevrey was hiding something where would he put it? She stripped the single blanket from the pallet. It would not be that, nor would it be in any obvious place where any slave or thief might be able to pilfer it. Kevrey was clever. And let’s pretend that he expected her to return at some point.

She stared. She pulled the pallet away. It was cheap and filled only with straw. Kantees wondered how he had fallen so far. Why had he stopped trading in knowledge? That was his income and the thing he enjoyed. He would not have been able to live without his books and his maps. Beside the bed was a jug, containing a liquid. A quick smell revealed it to be something alcoholic. She did not recognise it.

The frame of the bed was wooden, and there were slats across that supported the pallet. The ones in the middle were bowed where they had supported his weight for so long. The smell of burning was getting stronger, and when she glanced at the window again, she was shocked at the amount of smoke that now obscured the light. And now she was certain that she could feel the heat from below. Time was limited.

Perhaps it was not the bed at all, something else?

She looked around. But no. This was Kevrey, if he said “bed” then that was precisely what he intended. Something about the bed. It had a leg at each corner and two more: one on each side in the middle. They were a different colour of wood. She pulled the bed up on its side. The base of every leg was clay, hard and with a shine except where the dirt had been ground into it. She pulled out her knife and levered off first one and then the other of the middle legs.

Just wood. Solid wood. She sighed and shook her head. Then coughed as the smoke bit into her throat. She was about to give up when she heard someone else coughing. She turned as a dark figure stumbled out of the stairwell.

“Levin?”

“Are you insane? We have to get out of here.”

“Just go!”

“Not without you.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’m not the one dismantling a bed in a burning building.”

“I’m looking for something.”

“He doesn’t have any treasure.”

Kantees turned back to the bed. Her eyes were watering and it was much hotter in the room. There was not much that could be heard above the predatory growling of the fire beneath them. Red light glowed up through the cracks and every now and then a wisp of flame came through.

It’s here. I know it is.

She could barely make out the bed now through her tear-filled eyes and the smoke. With a sudden realisation, she attacked the clay feet of the other legs. First one then another came free. Just wood. Then the third. She coughed as it fell off and at first she didn’t notice that there was a hole.

“I’m going,” said Levin and she heard his footsteps retreating.

She could not get her hand into the hole so she had to turn the frame back. Nothing fell out. She got down to floor level and found she could breathe more easily there. She jammed her fingers into the hole and felt around. Something brushed her finger; she almost ignored it but there it was again. She managed to pincer the cord between two fingers and pulled gently. It slid between her fingers.

“Mother’s milk! Come on!”

She adjusted her position so she could get her fingers further in and tried to curl the cord round one of them. This time she got better purchase and, reluctantly, the cord allowed itself to be dragged out. The moment she could see an end she grabbed it properly and pulled hard. A package fell out. It was the size of her fist, wrapped in coarse cloth and tied with string.

There was no time to look at it. She grabbed it up—it was heavy—and shoved it inside her top and crawled towards the way out. Only to see Levin coming back.

He was coughing badly.

The floorboards were hot beneath her, the glow from below constant and growing in strength. She grabbed his arm and yanked him down to her level.

“Easier to breathe,” she said, her voice rasping.

“Going to die—anyway,” he said between attempts to draw a breath.

Kantees did not want to die just yet. She peered round through bleary eyes. The windows showed only as brighter areas through the smoke. They were a floor up, and it would be a desperate person who threw themselves out in the hopes of survival. Not to mention crossing a floor that might collapse and drop them through into the raging flames below.

There was an orange glow from the direction of the stairs now. Levin had not come back for her, just for his own life. It’s strange how we cling to life even when all hope is gone, she thought. But perhaps that’s because we never really give up.

There was a dark patch near where the bed had been. She blinked away the tears and tried to think. The smoke was even making that hard now. Levin was on all fours and keeping his head to the floor, though clear of the cracks.

What did the dark patch mean? Fireplace. It was the fireplace. Made of stone, not wood. She giggled but it turned into a cough—the irony of being saved from a fire by a chimney.

She did not trust herself to speak, it was all she could do to stop herself from coughing, so she just tapped Levin on his head and moved off towards the fireplace. The stone was still cool beneath her fingers. She pulled the grate out and pushed it away.

She was not sure if Levin understood what she intended but he grabbed the grate from her, and above the cracking of wood and roaring of flame she heard it crash across the floor.

Was it any worse burning to death stuck in a chimney than waiting for it out here?

She didn’t care. And stood up. The smoke was bad and rising up the flue. She braced herself against the sides and tried to find handholds. There were some but not many. However, she found she could push herself up as long as she maintained the pressure against the sides.

The heat seemed to reduce a little but the smoke was thick, making it very hard to breathe. She couldn’t stop herself from coughing any longer and felt that her lungs were being torn out. But still she climbed. Beneath her she could hear Levin coughing. Kantees kept pushing.

Above her the dark smoke grew paler and thinned. Breathing became easier.

“Kantees!” She heard Levin wheezing below her. “Kantees, I’m stuck.”

Perhaps that was why the smoke had become thinner. It couldn’t get past him. He was much larger than her. She stopped with her face up into the cool and fresh air. She could just leave him. She owed him nothing. Except without him she would not have found her old master.

Or perhaps she would, but not have been attacked.

She shook her head. There was no way of guessing what might have been and it had no value. All she had was now, and the future, while Levin’s future was limited. Even if they escaped on to the roof there was still a good chance they would die. Even if the assassin—the Farahalek—wasn’t still waiting to finish them off.

12

K  antees reached up to the light and the fresh air. Her fingers curled around the top of the chimney stack.

“Grab my foot!” she called down to Levin.

“Just go!”

“Do you want to die? Reach up and grab my foot.”

Fear ran through her as a hand brushed against the sole of her foot and then grabbed at her ankle. It felt as if she would be dragged down into the inferno below. She had to force herself to hold her foot in place.

“Pull yourself up!”

There was no answer but the grip tightened. Her toes were pushed into a small gap but threatened to rip free as he pulled harder and his grip tightened. She dug her fingers into the stonework above, wishing she could just get away.

She shrieked as her toes gave way and her foot dropped, pulling her hands free. She jammed her elbows to the sides and scraped them raw as she brought herself to a stop.

He was no longer holding her ankle. Was he there at all?

“Levin?”

He coughed. Not dead yet then.

Using her other foot, she managed to lever herself back into the position she had been in before but found a better position for her other foot. The heat from below was increasing; she did not dare imagine how hot his feet must be.

“Try again.”

“Get …out.” His short command was punctuated by coughing.

“Just try again!”

He did not argue, perhaps he understood that he was protecting her from the worst of the heat, giving her fresh air to breathe. The thought prompted her to notice that the air was perhaps not as fresh as it had been. She looked up to see streams of smoke, ash and red embers shooting skyward from around the chimney. They might be too late.

The hand clamped on her ankle again but this time she felt surer of her position. She braced herself as he pulled. The thought that she would have bruises on her foot floated through her mind.

Levin gave a cry that seemed barely human and grated in his throat as he pulled himself up. The pressure went from her foot although he was still holding it.

“Up.” The word was barely recognisable.

Realising he must be free, Kantees climbed again and within moments pulled herself up so she was sitting on the edge of the chimney. The roof was burning and had already collapsed in places. The serenity of the bay and the ships on the water seemed unreal against the inferno that raged around her.

Levin’s hand appeared. She grabbed him by the wrist and pushed his palm against the edge of the stonework. It gripped and he pulled himself up and out. He gasped a breath of air and then another.

Heat was now pouring up from below and the flue was lit by a red glow. Levin’s clothes were blackened and smoking. They were still not free. Kantees looked behind. From where they were to the ridge tiles was the space of a single stride, but the roof was on fire.

But it seemed that the roof on the other side was not yet burning. Perhaps this house was divided from the one behind by a stone wall.

Levin turned himself around on the chimney top and she barely recognised him as the same person. His hair was askew and filled with ash. His face and hands, where they were not cut and bleeding, had been caked in soot from the flue itself.

He stared at her and she realised she must look much the same.

“This way,” was all she said. Making sure the package was still inside her shirt, she climbed up on to the edge of the chimney.

It is only a single step, she told herself. But if she fell short she would drop into the conflagration and feel the pain of being burned alive. If she went too far she would fall down the roof on the other side; perhaps not as bad but she did not know what was there. They might drop from this second storey to the ground and die that way. At least it would be quicker.

With that cheery thought she took a deep breath and half-stepped, half-jumped across the gap. Her foot landed on the curved ridge tile and slipped straight off. She felt herself falling backwards and terror grabbed her heart. But her momentum carried her forward and her behind landed on the far side. The relief that she was not going to burn up was replaced by the fear of falling as she slipped at increasing speed down the slope towards the end of the roof.

She forced herself to roll over and tried to dig her toes into the tiles at the same time, grabbing anything she could with her fingers, tearing the skin from them on the rough surfaces.

Above her she saw Levin silhouetted against the sky. He teetered on the ridge. She prayed to the Mother he would not fall into the fire. She would not wish that on him no matter who he was.

She continued to slide. She was not gathering speed but nor was she stopping until her toes caught on the guttering. Something broke and fell away but she stopped moving. She flattened her entire body against the roof and lay her cheek against the cool tiles, panting for breath.

The roar of the burning house still reached her ears but it was quieter and she could hear a child crying somewhere. She looked back up at Levin. Somehow he had succeeded in lying down and was making his way down feet first.

It took a moment to realise she was looking at his feet, not boots, blackened though they were. The lower part of his leggings were burned and the material cracked and broke as he made his way down to her. He was off to her right, which was in the direction of where this section of roof intersected another, and there was a gully where perhaps they might be able to get better purchase. Making sure she did not get in his way, she moved sideways with her feet pressing into the gutter, which moved and cracked ominously but did not give way.

When she reached the gully she rolled over again and sat up with her feet pressing into the tiles on the opposite roof. Levin caught up with her and did the same.

Flames poured skyward from the house but it did not look as if the fire was spreading, at least not in their direction.

Kantees looked at Levin’s feet. They were blistered and black; not all of that was soot, some of it was burned skin. She looked away. Something cracked and groaned in the building from which they had escaped. She looked up once more just in time to see the top of the chimney collapse out of sight.

She felt as if she ought to say something but could not think of anything. Then she felt Levin’s hand on hers and he squeezed it. Strangely she did not feel either offended or threatened by his touch.

“Thank you.” His voice sounded as cracked and broken as his feet looked. He must have breathed in a great deal of smoke. She had been lucky to get away with so little harm.

Though now they were away from the danger, the damage that had been done to her was beginning to make itself known. The scratches, the burns and the scrapes began to clamour for attention. Kantees wished that Yenteel was here with his healing patterns. She missed him even though he was very irritating, the way he kept implying she was someone special.

But from what her old master had said before he died—before he was murdered—that was precisely what she was. Someone special. Kantees of the Ziri.

“He’ll be sure we’re dead,” said Kantees.

Levin coughed and spat something black from his mouth. “Until I turn up alive.”

“Perhaps he won’t know.”

“The Farahalek will know.”

“Will he try to kill you again?”

Levin paused. “I don’t know.”

“Does he even know who you are?”

Levin shrugged stiffly. “He may but I would not be able to keep the story a secret if I return to my home in this state.”

Kantees fell silent. She knew what she should do but she did not want to do it. The last thing she needed was someone else with her to slow her down. She was already very late. It was true that she had wanted more information as to the nature of the Dunor, but to know they were a secret cabal of Taymalin was good enough. It meant she had some idea of what she was up against, and the more she thought about it the worse it got.

“You’ll have to come with me.” The words came from her mouth almost unbidden. It was what she knew she ought to do, not what she wanted to do.

“I don’t think I will. This morning has been all the excitement I need for several years.”

“Daybian has been kidnapped by the Dunor. I—” was all she could manage before stopping. She did not want to ask a Taymalin for help. She needed Yenteel for his patterns, the tekrak and its patterner to gain access to the ley-circle that would take them to where, she hoped, Daybian was being held. But she remembered the warrior that Daybian had become when he had needed to, despite all his fooling around. And she could see the same thing in Levin now. He could be useful both for the fighting and simply because, beneath the soot, his skin was white.

But, most of all, she needed Sheesha.

“I would like your help in rescuing him.”

“The Dunor have him?”

She nodded.

“And you would risk your life to rescue him?”

She nodded again—she owed Daybian a debt. And Levin owed her.

“Then I will come with you.”

The finality of the statement did not, however, help them in their current predicament.

“We need to get to the circle,” she said.

“I cannot arrange for the patterners to make a path.”

“I came on a ziri.”

“You rode a zirichak?”

“I did. I am not a slave.”

“Sheesha?”

She nodded.

“You stole Sheesha?”

“Let us not go into my crimes,” said Kantees. “Otherwise you will have no choice but to strangle me here and now. That, however, will not save Daybian. So, you must either overlook my misdeeds, or we can proceed no further.”

He sighed and then a pained look came over his face as if his body had somehow been protecting him from his injuries until now.

Kantees looked around. The drop to the yard between the houses was not too great. She could do it easily enough but she was less sure of Levin.

“We have to get moving,” she said and looked into his face. He stared back as sweat broke out on his brow as if he were holding back the pain by sheer force of will. There was a rain butt below them. The water should be fresh enough.

“Let’s get down.”

She reached the ground without too much difficulty—though her ankle, where Levin had gripped it, now throbbed. He moved more slowly and very carefully. He let himself down on his arms as slowly as he could; when they gave out he fell the final distance with a cry of pain as his feet hit the cobbles.

Kantees caught him and helped him sit. She tore cloth from his tattered clothing and set about cleaning his feet. They were much worse than they had seemed, she doubted he would be able to move on his own.

She let him clean his own face, hands and arms while she rinsed herself in an attempt to look at least partly acceptable. The clothes given to her by the baker’s wife were now ruined. In truth, Levin’s did not look much better, but you could still see he was high-class Taymalin.

Kantees could not decide whether that was a good or a bad thing. Perhaps good because he could prevent them being questioned, as long as people did not recognise exactly who he was.

She wrapped his feet in more rags ripped from her own clothing. She caught him staring at her legs. Not feeling so bad then.

“Can you walk?”

Using the edge of the water butt for leverage, he pulled himself to his feet. He started to sweat again. What possesses a man to hide the pain?

“Lean on my shoulders,” she said. He hesitated for a moment and then gave in to the obvious agony and together they shuffled across the courtyard while smoke continued to pour into the sky behind them.

“We need transport,” said Kantees. “Otherwise it will take us the rest of the day and all of the night to get to the circle.”

“My ziri,” he said through clenched teeth.

She remembered Waileth, a female not as fast as Sheesha, but younger and very acrobatic. Bluer in her feathers than Sheesha, with purple tips. Was it strange that she knew the zirichasa better than people?

Unlike Kurvin Port, where the Ziri Tower was perched high on a ridge, here it was on an island in the shallow lake inland from the main town. Where they had encountered the dakasa. Perhaps it had been connected to the mainland by a land bridge at one time, now it was easiest to reach if you were already on a ziri.

“We still need to get to the circle to fetch Sheesha—” and Ulina, “—to fly us in. And still need some transport to get you there.”

By this time, they had made their way through an alley to a main street where the passers-by behaved as if there was no fire and simply went about their business. Here, higher up, the businesses were primarily traders, anyone with more than a couple of ships in their fleet carrying goods from Esternes to the mainland.

“Have you got money?” she asked.

“What need have I to carry money?”

Kantees sighed. Their dishevelled clothing was already drawing attention.

“Sit down there.” She guided Levin to a stone water trough in front of a shop. A small cart drawn by an old kichek with faded colour in its scales.

Inside the shop, selling simple but hard-wearing fabrics, she found the cart driver in his leather cloak and hood talking to the shopkeeper, who glanced at her as she entered, and frowned.

Kantees gritted her teeth as the driver also turned. One of his eyes was misty yet it seemed to be that one that studied her.

“What do you want?” said the shopkeeper impatiently.

“I am sorry, gentle-folk, to interrupt, but I am with the master.” She half turned and gestured to the almost ragged figure of Levin. “He is the worse for wear—” she paused for a moment to let the suggested meaning sink in, from the slight grin on their faces they understood what she implied, “—and must travel this day from the ley-circle. He needs to make haste but can barely stand.”

“What’s this to us?”

“Good sirs, he spied your cart and would trouble you for a ride. For which he will pay.” Only the last statement had been a lie. Kantees was not sure whether deliberately misleading someone counted as a lie but she had tried not to. It was poor Gally’s money she would be paying with.

Gally! She had not bought him a present. If she left Dakastown without something special—something that in his simple eyes would be more valuable than the gold coin she had borrowed, his heart would be broken— and it would be another lie to add to her list.

“So, the sot wants to escape being seen like this by his family?”

“It would not be my place to say, good sir.”

“And how much is he willing to pay?”

“A short journey like this? Perhaps a beggar’s tooth?” A quarter of a penny, enough for a good drink, it was bound to go higher but she needed to start low.

The shopkeeper glanced at the driver. Kantees realised she did not know whether the driver was independent, in which case she would end up paying both.

“My man would not harness his kichek for that. Half a crown.”

Kantees resisted a spiteful comeback but it was an outrageous amount for a journey that would be done before dark. “You could shoe a horse for as much, or feed your kichek for a moon-turn. A penny.”

“Ten-penny.”

“Three.”

“Seven.”

“Five.”

“Six.”

Kantees hesitated, she was going to split the difference but then he would just split it again or suggest some ridiculous condition such as only carrying Levin and not her.

“For the both of us on the cart. Done.”

The shopkeeper nodded. If she had been a man, or white, he would have shaken on it. She was not offended. The price was still too high but it would do and did not deplete her funds too much. She could always demand it back off Levin when they were safe, and he had recovered.

Just a short time later they were on the cart and heading across the city and away from the smoking remains of her old master’s house. Sitting in the back with Levin, the driver had helped him up, but if he had wondered at the state of him and the smell of the fire, he said nothing. Kantees was just glad they were moving.

At the ziri houses next to the circle they climbed down from the cart. Levin suppressed a cry of pain as his feet hit the ground. She let him put his arm over her shoulder.

“Sorry, Kantees.”

“It’s not far.” Kantees gave the driver another half-penny. “No need to share that with your master,” she said.

He nodded. “Go in the Mother’s peace.”

Kantees jerked her head up in surprise. He did not look Kadralin.

“Rest in her arms,” she said.

The man smiled.

“Thank you,” she said.

He turned the cart by leading the kichek in a tight circle. “You are welcome, Kantees of the Ziri.”

13

K  antees stared after him as the cart moved away, its iron-shod wheels sparking occasionally on the cobbles. How could he possibly know who she was? Levin had used her name and here they were at the ley-circle ziri eyries. She frowned. That stupid name.

Levin interrupted her train of thought with a groan.

He was sitting at the side of the road looking forlorn. She shook her head. He wasn’t going to die, why did he have to act as if he would? She had her own pains and aches to deal with, did she let it stop her?

“Come on.”

She helped him to his feet and half-carried him through the arch and into the interior. The light outside was fading and it was dark. Further in they came to the door and she hammered on it.

“Ulina! Let me in.”

There was a long pause before the bolt at the bottom was drawn back, and then the one at the top. Kantees frowned, how could Ulina have managed that? For a moment she panicked. There was no way she could fight back with Levin leaning on her so heavily.

Then the door opened a crack. Ulina seemed to fall out in front of her and threw her arms around Kantees. At least one arm went round. There was a cry from both Ulina and Levin as the girl’s other hand struck something tender.

Something large moved behind the door, lit from behind by a fire, and Sheesha’s big head wormed its way through the narrow gap then pushed the door open with a crash. The huge ziri rumbled and pushed his head against her face, almost toppling them all over.

“For the sake of the Mother will you let me get him inside! Sheesha, stop pushing and help.”

The big muzzle shifted to the man and snuffled him.

“Levin, put your arm on Sheesha’s neck.” And get off mine. Levin was not unconscious but she guessed the pain must be demanding all his attention. She wished she knew the healing patterns like Yenteel, because with the addition of Sheesha’s power, and that of the nearby circle, she could have fixed both of them in no time.

Sheesha seemed to understand what was needed and Levin’s weight was transferred. The ziri waddled very slowly into the interior, leading Levin to the fire. Kantees went down on one knee and hugged Ulina.

“I’m sorry I was so long.”

“You smell of fire.”

“Yes, I was in a fire.”

“Who is that man?”

“His name is Levin, he saved my life and I saved his.”

“Does that mean you love him? Daybian won’t like that.”

“What? No, and it doesn’t matter what Daybian thinks. Besides, you’ve never met Daybian so how would you know?”

Ulina shrugged and pulled away. She took Kantees by the hand and led her inside. Kantees shut and bolted the door, bottom and top.

“How did you make Sheesha lift you up to do the top bolt?”

Ulina shrugged again. “I asked him to—” then she laughed, “—he let me sit right on his head.” She pointed to the top of her own head.

Kantees said nothing more as they went through into the central open area and to the fire. Much to Kantees’ surprise, and perhaps chagrin, Sheesha had arranged himself so that Levin could lean against him. She said nothing but dug out some food and ate it while she cut some fruit into small chunks for Levin.

He was awake but he just stared at the fire, although he did eat what she gave him. And drank a lot of water. Kantees found some clothes in a wardrobe in the keeper’s room, then washed herself down in an effort to get rid of the smell. She took the bundle from her master’s house and laid it to one side. Now that she was no longer in a rush, she noticed how heavy it seemed for its size. She found she had a strange lack of curiosity, the package reminded her of him and the way his life had drained away in front of her … it hurt.

She didn’t have a change of clothes for Levin but she washed his feet again and then cleaned his hands and face. Ulina stared but said nothing. The soles of Levin’s feet were a mass of blisters; some had broken and were bleeding.

Colimar stood in the sky, its red light barely enough to provide any additional illumination. Kantees preferred it when Lostimal was there. The white purity of the Mother instead of the baleful eye of Colimar. She held the package in her hand. This was not the right light to see what he had left for her.

It wasn’t going to be anything good. The man had twisted her and destroyed her life by making her think and giving her a curiosity that someone like her should not have. Then she shook her head again. Why not?

By what right did the Taymalin claim that the Kadralin must remain ignorant? By the gift of Taymar, the one who gave them the right to take whatever they saw as theirs.

She felt like throwing it into the embers of the fire as it slowly died. It was bound to be something to complicate her life even more. If that weren’t enough, she now had this Levin to take care of.

She should just leave him here. Let his family find him, let them protect him from the Farahalek and the Dunor.

She was tired and her body ached. She had blisters too. Typical of a man to claim all the agony for himself. Daybian was the same.

And every time she had that thought she was reminded of the other Daybian. The one who had honoured her with a salute as he threw himself into battle. The one who had offered his own life to help her escape, even though he owed her nothing.

And then there was Levin, who had saved her by recognising the threat of the arrows while she had stared, dumbstruck, at her dying master. The man who had been willing to give up his own life when they were in the chimney.

“Not that you had any choice,” she said out loud, looking at Levin, who seemed to have fallen asleep. Not even Ulina questioned her comment. She was curled up on the other side of the fire. Even Sheesha was asleep.

“I am the only one awake,” she said to the red moon. “And that is always the way of it.”

She did not feel safe here. It had been a very long time since that had been any part of her life. It seemed that she was the only one who cared enough to worry about what might happen. But as she stared into the glowing red of the fire, like an echo of the small moon, her eyes closed and she slept.

14

“T  aymar’s teeth!”

“Stop whining.”

Sheesha grunted as Levin’s weight came down on his back. As if the big ziri couldn’t carry the weight of another person. They weren’t carrying any pies now, they had finished the last of them that morning. They left behind the torn remnants of clothes that no longer served any useful purpose.

Kantees did not like to leave a mess. In fact, she would rather not leave at all. This morning she had woken with a headache and could not breathe through her nose. Levin was full of bravado but as soon as he had tried to stand his face had been filled with agony again. He tried to disguise it, just like men do, but it was too much even for that.

She had washed his feet once more. They really needed an ointment or oil to rub in but they had nothing of that sort.

She had Ulina fetch their meagre belongings. Kantees made sure she had the package. Then they loaded themselves on to Sheesha’s back.

Which was why Levin had complained so much. She had made him sit back farther than he wanted and there really wasn’t much support for him, or anything to hold on to—except Kantees when she climbed up in front of him.

“Hold my waist,” she said, then had to suppress a shudder as his hands grasped her. Ulina climbed up and sat in front of Kantees.

Would Sheesha be able to carry them all? He spread his wings and she felt the muscles moving beneath her. She smiled. There was something in his power that gave her confidence. It was not the magic he held within, but the raw physical energy.

The downstroke was strong but his body barely moved, his legs only staggering a little. Kantees did not want him to use the power from the ley-circle even though it lay only a tantalisingly short distance away in case someone saw them.

Sheesha settled himself for a moment and then sprang forward as he brought his wings down again fast. He took another hop, and after a blindingly fast upswing he beat again and she felt herself pushed down into his back.

The far wall came at them. Beat after powerful beat pushed them upwards. Sheesha banked to the right to avoid the wall and each stroke lifted them higher. They cleared the roof and were out into the cold morning air. It blew away her headache. Sheesha continued to climb in a spiral, showing them first the town and the sea, then the river and its thousands of streams across the muddy delta. Finally the hills that rose on either side.

The fields behind the town were laid out in a great bowl. Kantees fancied that perhaps once this had been a lake until the river had finally escaped directly into the sea and drained it.

They turned again. Boats headed out across the bay; some were fishing, while bigger ones carried goods to the mainland. If Sheesha gained enough height, they might even be able to see it, but that was not their purpose.

The third time they came around to face the river, Kantees spotted the Ziri Tower and headed Sheesha in that direction. They had not decided on any plan but what they had to do was simple enough.

A ziri approaching the tower would not attract too much attention, particularly at this time of the morning when most would be at their breakfast, if not still in their beds. And unlike those attached to castles, this place did not possess a significant military force. They did not need it being stuck out in the middle of the water and would just be more mouths to feed.

Sheesha covered the distance in a very short amount of time, and after the difficult take-off he seemed to be able to fly well enough with the extra weight. She hoped landing would not be troublesome for him.

They flew around the tower once and Levin pointed out the eyrie for his zirichak Waileth. It was not too far from the top but the outer door was shut. She was not surprised. They would have to land on the top of tower as they had at Kurvin Port and make their way down to the eyrie.

Sheesha came down heavily and immediately lay down on the rooftop. Muscle strains were not uncommon in racing ziri, although Sheesha had never had one as yet.

Ulina slid off in the direction of the central section of the roof as Kantees lifted her leg over and dropped off on the wall side. She stared over the edge and listened out for shouts, but it seemed no one had noticed them. She prayed to the Mother that it was so.

Levin was less able to climb down. He got his leg over but clung to Sheesha’s neck as he let himself down. He said nothing as his burnt and blistered feet touched the roof but could not suppress a grunt.

“Ulina, see if the door is unlocked. Here, Levin, let me help.”

If he had any concern that accepting help from a woman, and a runaway slave at that, was demeaning he had lost such pride the day before, willingly putting his arm across her shoulders, although she was sure he was trying to avoid putting too much weight on her.

The air smelled strange to Kantees, not only damp but there was something fetid about it. Probably the marshes below and the dakasa waiting to capture anything foolish enough to wander into their water.

Kantees and Levin made their way round to the door which now stood open. Kantees noted the way the metal had been sliced clean through. It had been locked and Ulina’s little dagger had dealt with it. How could an abandoned Taymalin girl possess a dagger so valuable, and so powered with patterns that, even in the hands of a child, it could cut through iron as if it was little more than clay?

It was the kind of question that Kantees was not sure she wanted the answer to. Never mind the bloodthirsty way the child could kill and seem so unconcerned.

“Wait with Sheesha,” she said to Ulina. “When I call, fly down with him into the eyrie.” The girl nodded seriously and let them go.

The stairs were awkward but they managed them with her going first and Levin resting his hands on her shoulders. She had stopped shuddering at his touch but it was not a sensation she wanted to prolong.

They would have to go past the eyrie with the elder ziri, and then the one with the dominant male. Levin had an elder brother who rode that one, Kantees had seen them in the races, but it knew Levin and would not get upset if he passed through. She hoped that it would not have a problem with her.

If they encountered any of the keepers, Levin was their master. Kantees gritted her teeth, she was not happy being around slaves anymore. She wanted to tell them to break their chains—to just leave, there was nothing to stop them. The Taymalin were so arrogant in their superiority they would not understand what had happened if the slaves simply stopped being slaves.

But then, what would the Kadralin do? Run and hide? Kantees shook her head, this was not anything she needed to think about. She must simply focus on Daybian, she owed him and she would do her best to rescue him.

After that, she would seek her people in the heart of the Esternes, where the Taymalin did not rule. She refused to believe Yenteel’s claim the heart of Esternes was just uninhabitable mountains, they had to be there.

The ladder was a problem; there was no way she could help him. He gave her a look of helplessness but managed to grab hold and put his feet on the rungs. He kept adjusting their position until he was apparently satisfied, he’d found the one that hurt the least. Then, with terrible slowness, he descended and disappeared from sight while Kantees worried about them being discovered.

“Tegon!”

His shout shook her from her thoughts and she peered into the hole. What was he doing?

“Tegon! Come here!”

There was movement in the eyrie below. “Master?”

“Tegon, go down below and have Kuli prepare Waileth, I am taking her out.”

“Yes, master.”

Kantees could tell from the way this Tegon answered that he was very confused about why his master was coming down the ladder, and also why Levin was in such a bad condition. But a slave could not question a lord.

She heard someone descending a ladder quickly.

“Kantees,” Levin called up. She looked down.

“Go back up, wait for me.”

She was reluctant to do as he said but she could not fault his new plan. If she was there it would look very strange—much more than it already did. At least for now it was just their master doing something that was normal. And by the time he managed to climb down his ziri should be prepared. If she was a slight chance they might disobey, fearing their master was somehow being coerced.

But she did not want to leave him. She was not even sure she could trust him.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled back and returned to the roof. What if he did decide not to go with them? What difference did it make? She did not want him anyway, he was just another responsibility that she didn’t need. If he stayed behind and the Farahalek decided he needed to be killed it did not matter to her.

Except she found it did matter. She had made herself responsible for yet another person—yet another Taymalin master. She seemed to be collecting them. She wanted to be back with Yenteel and Gally, even if the former was irritatingly self-confident and Gally could be, well, just irritating. Except that wasn’t his fault, the Mother had made him a simpleton.

Ulina was sitting on Sheesha’s back and looked up in surprise as Kantees emerged.

“He’s doing it on his own,” Kantees said by way of explanation.

Ulina slid forward to allow Kantees room to climb up behind, but instead she went to Sheesha’s head and put her arms around him. She buried her head in his feathers and breathed in the light scent of his body that was reminiscent of autumn leaves.

What if Daybian was dead? What if all this was pointless? If she had just gone to find her people instead of rescuing Jelamie she would not have had to deal with all of this.

In the distance she heard the door of an eyrie being slid back. She could just fly away now. Levin didn’t know where she was going and he would not be able to follow.

But she knew she would not, they knew about Levin so he was in danger too. There was no escape. She had learnt of the Dunor and she had sought them out, only to find that they wished to find her and perhaps kill or use her because of what she knew. Her eyes became damp as she thought of Kevrey. He had sent her away; not to punish her, but to protect her.

Yet they had come for her anyway—even though they thought they were looking for Daybian. And in that act, they had set her feet upon this path. Those who believed in prophesies were doomed to die by them.

She heard wingbeats and moments later she recognised the colours of Waileth emerge into the dull light with the figure of Levin on her back, now properly dressed for riding. He gave her a wave and flew above the tower, maintaining a circle above it.

Kantees mounted Sheesha and gave him a gentle nudge. Instead of launching into the air, which would have been difficult in the confined space, he hopped up onto the rampart and allowed himself to fall over the edge, just as he had that night when Kantees had ridden him for the first time. There was a man at the base of the tower looking up at them.

Waileth screeched as Sheesha accelerated towards the ground and then whipped out his wings and soared upwards without a single beat.

“Show off,” she said, but the words were ripped from her mouth by the speed of their flight.

They needed to go north. But following the river until they were well away from Dakastown would take them roughly in the direction they needed to go. Perhaps Levin had a better idea of the shape of Esternes than she did.

The shock of recognition hit her. The man at the base of the tower. He was the one who had been on the boat and had waved. The one in the town on the Zephira who had egged the crowd on.

He was here? How could he have known where they would be even when she had not until the previous day? She shook her head. Of course he would know, where else would you expect to find a ziri except in a Ziri Tower? Well, he was too late.

Sheesha levelled out and Kantees glanced back. Just as she expected, Waileth had fallen in behind him. He was a dominant male and would lead; Waileth would follow.

15

T  he day continued grey but at least it wasn’t raining. Kantees kept them flying until they were clear of the twisted channels of the river and it followed just a single narrow course through the low hills beyond. She judged it would take a minimum of a day for someone to reach that distance, even in a boat with the wind behind them. The man could not follow now.

They set down on a small plateau bare of life except for a few bushes fighting to grow in the thin soil, their roots digging into the cracks in the rocks.

Sheesha ignored Waileth but she placed herself so she was in his line of vision. His response was to preen himself.

“They behave differently when it’s not a race,” she said.

“The female runs from the male until she catches him,” said Levin. He was sitting on the ground wearing his riding clothes. He even had boots, though she imagined they must hurt since his feet had swollen. He did not complain, and it must be easier than walking in bare feet.

Kantees glanced at him, wondering whether he might be referring to her in some unsubtle way, but he was not looking in her direction and did not seem prone to the insinuations—and outright suggestions—that Daybian enjoyed. He was looking at his ziri.

“How can you ride without tack and saddle?”

Kantees shrugged. “It’s easy enough. Besides, what you do makes them as much slaves as us. I prefer to let them have the choice as to whether to carry us.”

“You think Waileth would not carry me if she had a choice?”

“Perhaps she would, but do you give her that option?”

“She may be smaller than your Sheesha, but she could kill me just as easily as he could.”

“So she has a choice?”

“I think so.”

Kantees was silent for a while.

“We have to go north to catch up with my friends,” she said.

“The ones on their way to rescue Daybian?” he said. “Even if you’d been away a ten-day they won’t have got far.”

Kantees wasn’t sure whether she should tell him about the giant tekrak. He probably wouldn’t believe her, so it was simpler not to mention it.

“Have you ever flown all the way to Jakalain?” she said.

“Of course not, why fly and wear out your ziri before a race?”

“It took me three days to get here from there.”

He just nodded and she realised he had no idea of the distance either. At normal flying speed it might take twice that long—since Sheesha could not maintain the magical speed for long. She could not quite bring herself to broach that subject either. That was perhaps even less believable than a giant flying plant.

She did not even know if Waileth was capable of it. If she wasn’t, this journey would be interminable.

She looked over to where Ulina was sitting on the edge and throwing stones out into the void. There were several large sikechasa wheeling in the distance but she thought the presence of the much larger ziri would keep them away. They would not want a fight.

“We had better get moving,” she said and got to her feet. “I’m going to follow the river to Cliffedge and then we’ll go north-east to the mountains.”

“I’ve never seen Cliffedge,” he said. She held out her hand and pulled him awkwardly to his feet. “I’ve heard it’s very interesting.”

“Yes.”

He was walking better in the boots but she still let him put some of his weight on her.

“Levin?”

“Yes?”

“If something strange happens when we’re flying, don’t be too surprised.”

“What kind of thing?”

“Never mind what kind, but if it does, trust your ziri. Trust Waileth.”

“Of course,” he said, and she could hear a tone of amusement. “I always trust her.”

“That’s good.” She had no idea whether the magic would work with another ziri as well, or if perhaps they had to do it individually. There was also the problem that if Waileth was left behind Kantees might not be able to find them again.

Levin clambered awkwardly into the saddle on Waileth’s back and buckled himself in. Almost automatically, Kantees checked his buckles and the tightness of the straps.

“If we get separated,” she said, “there’s a baker in the mists on the road into Cliffedge Below. If you give them my name they will let you stay there—” if they don’t hate me, “—just wait for me there.”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“You wouldn’t believe me.”

“That is not encouraging.”

“We’ll be going above the clouds.”

“You and the child aren’t dressed for it.”

“We’ll be fine.”

Kantees patted Waileth’s neck and walked over to Sheesha, who removed his head from under his wing where he had been working through the feathers.

“Ulina! We’re moving.”

The girl ran over and Kantees lifted her into position before climbing up herself.

Sheesha launched smoothly into the air. He had eaten well yesterday and should be ready to fly fast. Waileth would be well fed so Kantees did not need to worry about her either. But if this worked, they would both be very hungry by the afternoon. They must waste no more time getting back to Yenteel and the others.

They headed upriver under the heavy cloud, climbing steadily. The greyness engulfed them and Kantees worried that they might lose each other before she even tried to go fast. But, when they broke free into the sunshine, Waileth was exactly where she had been before: a little back and to the right.

There was more to ziri magic than just flying fast.

The sun turned the top of the clouds into fluffy white mountains but she climbed further so they had a straight run. She had taken the bearing on the position of the sun as they came out of the cloud and was confident she could maintain the correct course.

They had done it before.

She reached out to Sheesha and encouraged him to draw on the power within. He no longer needed to dive to make it happen. It seemed that he grew in knowledge and experience just as she did.

But she was still worried about Levin and Waileth. As flecks of golden light sparked around Sheesha she glanced back. As long as he doesn’t take fright.

Levin was staring, not at Sheesha but at Waileth. Kantees allowed herself to smile. It was happening to her as well. There was a bond in the flying ziri that made them act as one. She had seen it in the way the Jakalain ziri had followed Sheesha. And now it worked with Waileth and the magic.

The golden light became a sheath around them, and the wall did not curve around behind Sheesha but extended out and encompassed Waileth as well. As if both were in a bubble, though their relative positions remained precisely the same.

Even if Waileth had not experienced it before it was clear that she knew, by instinct, what to do, as her wings folded in and the two of them shot through the air.

That was the other reason Kantees wanted them to be above the clouds: she did not want them to be observed. Whoever the man following them was, she felt strongly that he should know as little about what the ziri could do as possible.

Kantees turned her head from the spectacle of the clouds shooting away beneath them, as if it were those that were moving and not the ziri. She looked at Levin. He had the reins in a grip like death and stared ahead as if he was in shock. Kantees allowed herself a smile but she had probably looked much the same on her first journey as she escaped across the sea from Kurvin Port. Though, she remembered, she had been more concerned with the fact she had tried to kill herself.

She whistled. The air inside the golden bubble did not move. It was captured just as they were, and that meant sound was not ripped away.

Levin jerked round to look at her. She gave a little wave—Levin shook his head slightly as if in wonderment—then studied Waileth. Because Sheesha’s head was in front she had never seen what he looked like when he flew like this. Waileth’s neck was straight out like a poker. Her mouth was shut and her eyes open unblinkingly. There was a golden light behind them as the golden magic boiled out of her and held the air away from them as they arrowed through the sky.

It was impossible to tell how tired the ziri were. And that was a concern.

Kantees looked at the sun and adjusted their course. Ahead of them the clouds were building even higher, and in one particularly mountainous pile that stretched upwards she could see flashes of light that she took for lightning.

She did not want to slow down but neither did she want to attempt a flight through a storm like that. The only clear air was away to the left and that was not a direction she intended to go.

Taking care to make the adjustment slowly, she sent Sheesha into a gentle dive. But no matter that she had made it a shallow angle, they dived straight into the cloud. The water did not touch them this time.

Flying down through the cloud at high speed made her nervous. She could not see anything but the darkness beyond the grey. What if the cloud extended to the ground? What if they ran into the cliff of Cliffedge?

They broke through the cloud layer. It wasn’t raining. They were still far above the ground and the great cliff that cut through Esternes was just a dark line on the horizon, she was astonished at how much distance they had covered. Even at normal speed they could reach it quickly. She twisted round again.

“We’re going to slow down,” she called to him. “Hang on tight, the first time we did it, I fell off.” She realised from his expression that wasn’t very encouraging. “But we’ve had lots of experience since then. It’ll be fine.”

Kantees looked ahead and saw that the cliff was now clearly visible. Though the river was quite a way to their left.

“Let’s slow down, Sheesha, my love,” she said quietly. “But gently, Waileth has never done this before.”

The golden light surrounding them thinned, Sheesha spread his wings, and a quick glance told Kantees Waileth was following his lead. The magic shredded suddenly and dissipated. The wind struck them like a wall but Kantees was ready for it. A look back showed that Levin was still in his seat. He was strapped-in anyway.

Kantees had Sheesha slow and go into a landing spiral. Levin would probably have some things he needed to say after all that.

The area they were coming down on was marshy and Kantees recoiled at the thought of lurking dakasa. However, there was a hill standing high above the pools and rivulets. She headed for that and they came down on a sloping side covered in long grass. If the sun had been shining it would have been quite pleasant.

Ulina slipped off and Kantees followed. She went to Waileth and helped the silent Levin undo his buckles, then caught him as he came down. Kantees set about stripping Waileth of the tack. If the ziri wanted to feed, this was a good opportunity to let them do so.

She made sure the tack was untangled and dropped the saddle in the grass.

Levin had been watching her as he sat in the grass. Neither of them said a word until Kantees sat herself near him. In the distance, above the dark edge of the cliff, there were flashes of lightning

“Well?” he said at last.

“Ziri magic.”

“Waileth wouldn’t obey me.”

Kantees could understand that would scare him the most, to be always in charge and then, in the most terrifying of moments, have that torn from him.

“You wouldn’t have believed me if I’d told you.”

“No,” he said. “And if you had tried, I would have taken my chances in Dakastown instead.” He sighed.

Down the slope from them Sheesha was preening again while Waileth was not even looking in his direction. It seemed that the patterning they used did not directly affect how they related to one another. He was still trying to look good to attract the female. Just as well there wasn’t another male around. It could get nasty, although Sheesha had generally been well-behaved, but perhaps that was because he was already the dominant male of the Jakalain zirichasa.

“The pattern is in their nature,” said Kantees.

“How is it you discovered it?”

“It was an accident.” She was not going to explain how it happened. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Does Daybian know?”

“No, I found out after he had been taken.”

She did explain how the Hamalain had tried to capture her and the rest of her friends. The escape from the ley-circle and Daybian’s capture.

“Deenya is a Hamalain,” said Levin.

Kantees looked at him, not understanding what he had said, then she realised. “That woman from Dakastown?”

He nodded. “The Hamalain comprise two brothers and a sister. Lorima, Trimiente and Deenya.”

“Lorima’s dead.”

“Yes. Did you kill him?”

She bristled. “No. I found him murdered by the mercenaries he’d hired. They were not happy the raid on Jakalain had gone badly and unprofitably. I suppose.”

“And you went after them because of Daybian’s little brother?”

“What’s so strange about that?”

“You’re a slave, why should you care?”

“I’m still a person, you milk-puke.” She got up and stormed further up the slope. And if I’d listened to Sheesha earlier, perhaps he wouldn’t have had time to sneak into the gondola. It’s hard to trust when the world betrays you, but Kevrey had not betrayed her after all. He had been protecting her.

From the summit of the hill she could see leagues in most directions across the flat marshland here at the bottom of the cliff. To the north, the cliff itself was still a couple of leagues away, but it towered upwards and blocked the sky. Waterfalls spilled off the edge and only the larger ones reached the ground. The small ones turned into mist and blew away.

To the west was the fog that filled the air around Cliffedge Below. The gantries of the great lifting engines poked out like branches from the top of the cliff. The marsh surrounding them was threatening. She did not know if dakasa lived this far inland, but if they did this was a perfect location for them. She glanced at the ziri, not wanting them to feed here. It was too dangerous.

It was only a short hop to the top of the cliff. Could she persuade Sheesha to go up there? But a shadow passed over her as Sheesha headed away from the hill with Waileth in tow. They must be hungry, and she hoped they would find something easily. The watery wasteland did not look as if it was home to much game.

There was something down by the water’s edge at the bottom of the hill, and she frowned before realising it was Ulina.

She panicked as the image of the child getting dragged into the water by pale tentacles invaded her mind. She ran and shouted to her to get away from the water.

16

K  antees stumbled the last few steps to where Ulina was staring at her as she came yelling down the hill. Kantees grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her from the water’s edge. She stumbled over a rock and collapsed, holding the child tight.

As the echoes of her own voice fell away across the calm, motionless water with the coarse grasses and reeds poking up through them, it all became silence.

“What’s wrong, Kantees?” said Ulina. “Why are you crying?”

“It’s not safe,” said Kantees, her voice hoarse from the shouting. “It’s not safe. You have to be careful.”

“What isn’t safe?”

“What’s wrong?” echoed Levin. Kantees could hear his uncertain paces as he made his way down the hill.

“Dakasa!” she said.

“They do not live inland,” he said. “Only in the sea or nearby where the water is salty.”

His voice was calm but held a hint of strain. Whether that was the pain of his feet or concern for Kantees’ sudden panic she couldn’t be sure. But it didn’t matter, even if that were true. There were always dangers in the wild. She had seen them.

“You mustn’t run away like that,” she said to Ulina.

“I wasn’t running.”

“You can’t just wander off.”

“Why not? Will you tie my feet, Kantees? Hobble me like a kichek?”

Kantees pushed herself up into a sitting position but still held Ulina, though the girl started to squirm.

“The world is not safe.”

“I have my knife.”

“Sometimes your knife will not be enough.”

“Then I shall die.”

And there it was again: the echoes of Ulina’s life before. The place Kantees did not want to go.

With a groan of effort Levin sat down beside them on the grass. He put his hand on Kantees’ shoulder. She shrugged it off but relaxed her grip on the girl, who immediately slipped away from her and went to a boulder to sit. She was not near the water’s edge.

“The world is full of danger, Levin.”

“It is,” he said. “I only have to look at my feet.”

“In a deserted ley-circle in the middle of the Talamyrth there were abominations like men who tried to kill us,” she said. “Perhaps they had been men once but they were distorted by the power of the Mother.”

Levin said nothing.

“When I first discovered the ziri magic, I fell into the sea and might have drowned but for a giant shell as big as Jakalain that floated in the water. And even so, Sheesha was barely able to rescue me. When we reached Dakastown the dakasa in the mere, near the tower, tried to bring us down with their water spouts.” She turned to him. “But always the greatest danger is the people. White people, like you. Trying to kill me, trying to capture Sheesha, stealing children and torturing them.”

She turned and faced back across the watery wasteland. “Tell me I should not be afraid for myself and those I have become responsible for?”

She thought that perhaps he had an answer, because he was silent for a long time.

“I do not claim any great wisdom,” he said finally. “But I do not think you can live your life in the fear of what might happen.”

“So you just ignore it?”

“I do not ignore danger, Kantees. But it is not my master.”

“It is not easy for a slave to have no master.”

“Ex-slave.”

Anger boiled up inside her. “How dare you! You don’t know anything. I was driven to become masterless because I cared about what happened to the Jakalain. The raiders would have ignored me because I was a slave. I committed crimes—by Taymalin rules—to save them and they would kill me for doing the right thing.”

“Did you need to steal Sheesha?”

“I had already ridden him. I was as good as dead. He was the only way I could escape.”

“You did not think that perhaps the Jakalain might bend the rules for you? That justice was more important than blind adherence to a set of codes?”

Kantees said nothing and watched the thin waterfalls disperse into clouds of mist along the tall jagged rocks of the cliff.

“And how does it feel to be masterless, Kantees?”

“I am afraid all the time,” she said. “But that is no different than before, it’s just a different type of fear.”

“It’s the price of freedom,” he said. “You think that we Taymalin enjoy every moment of our power?”

“Of course you do.”

“My father has the weight of twenty thousand lives on his shoulders. The decisions he makes may kill people, not just yours but mine too. You are responsible for what? Half a dozen lives? How does that compare?”

“Because I care about them.”

“By what right do you judge whether a man you have never met cares about those in his charge?” It was his turn to be angry. “You think the price of caring about your people is too high? Perhaps you should also consider not everyone would want to pay it.”

Her anger returned. “Everyone should have the choice!”

He paused. “I think you are probably right,” he said. He adjusted the position of his feet on the grass to get more comfortable. “Did you know the Kadralin on the mainland are not slaves?”

She stared at him. “You’re lying.”

He shook his head. “No. Oh, they are not in charge, of course, mostly they are servants. But if they choose to leave their service, they can. There are Kadralin who are not servants at all and trade from place to place. They are free.”

“Then—” she could barely get the words out, “—why are we slaves?”

“Honestly, Kantees, I have no idea. It’s just the way it is.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“I didn’t make the rules, Kantees.”

She got up and stalked back up the hill. She saw Ulina following her, though at a distance as if she was not really obeying her instructions.

Once she reached the top she looked across the darkening landscape. There were lights growing here and there. Some were the warm, yellow light of fires, though nothing too close, for which she was grateful. But others were the pale green glow that she associated with the dakasa. Not in the numbers that had shown in the delta, but still plenty.

As the world grew darker around them she thought about what Levin had said. It was difficult, she did not want to give him or his kind any benefit of the doubt. But the truth was that she had never truly been mistreated. The Jakalain and Kevrey were good people. It seemed that perhaps Levin was as well. Though she could not know whether that applied to the rest of the Otulain family.

But her people were free on the mainland?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Sheesha and Waileth. They settled down for the night.

17

N othing attacked them in the night. Kantees slept soundly under Sheesha’s wing with Ulina, who seemed to have forgotten the upset from earlier.

Levin did not sleep under Waileth’s wing. He had spouted some nonsense about possibly being killed by the ziri moving, and instead, slept out in the damp and the cold. Kantees would not have been surprised if he caught some illness, but come the morning he seemed his usual self—as much as she knew what that should be like.

“How are your feet now?” she asked, seeking to mend their disagreement of the evening before.

“They still hurt, Kantees,” he said gruffly, though that might simply have been because he was not fully awake and had not yet broken his fast.

“We have nothing to eat,” she said. “We can either waste time getting something from upper Cliffedge—” she had no desire to return to the mists of the lower town, “—or push on to the north.”

An idea had sparked in her mind as she had fallen asleep. It seemed a crazy thing to do but she felt the responsibility Levin had spoken of, as well as wanting to shake off the feeling that everything she did was a lie.

“I am hungry,” he said.

“Me too,” said Ulina.

“I…” Kantees trailed off and then gathered her courage and started again. “I thought we might stop at Jakalain.”

“Even though they might lock you up and hang you?”

Ulina squeaked in horror. “I will not let them.”

Kantees gave her a smile then turned back to Levin. “I thought about what you said.”

“I shouldn’t talk so much, it gets people into trouble.”

“They deserve to know what’s happened to their son.”

“You don’t even know.”

“At least I have some idea.”

“What if they are in league with the Dunor like the Hamalain?”

Kantees gathered up their meagre things and gave Sheesha a nudge to make him settle back on his haunches so they could ride. Then she remembered they would have to go through the rigmarole of getting Waileth’s riding gear sorted out.

“I do not believe my old master would have sold me to them if he thought they were part of the cabal. He sent me there to be safe from the Dunor.”

Levin was sitting on the floor struggling to get a boot on. He gave a frustrated cry and lay back.

“I am not worthy of you, Kantees,” he said, looking straight up into the sky and clutching the boot to his chest.

“What are you talking about?”

He sat back up and tossed the boot over to the saddle. “I want to order you to help me.”

“I am glad you did not.”

“You wouldn’t have done it anyway.”

“That is true.”

“I can’t use a saddle without boots.”

That was the truth; his feet would suffer badly if he put them into the metal stirrups without something to protect them. And she was unwilling to leave the saddle behind—she was not even sure Waileth would accept Levin without the saddle.

“Would you like me to help you?” she said.

“I would,” he said. “If you do not mind.”

Kantees collected the boot and brought it back. She examined his feet. “We should probably wash them again. No, wait.” She jumped up and went to the saddle bags and rummaged through them. “Ha,” she said and pulled out a small clay pot.

“What?” he said with concern on his face.

“Beeswax.”

“That’s for the leather.”

“It will soothe and protect your feet.”

“Very well, but I will do it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I can get it done faster, and besides, I’ve been using it for years. I know how to make leather shine with it.”

“I do not want my feet to shine.”

Kantees knelt at his feet and grinned at him.

“You were joking,” he said.

“I was joking.”

She took hold of one foot and unwrapped the makeshift bandages. They stuck and she peeled them off as carefully as she could. Many of the blisters had now broken and the cloth was stained with yellow circles.

“Ulina, please, will you fetch some water?”

Ulina stood up. “Yesterday you did not want me near the water for fear of dakasa or other creatures.”

Kantees took a deep breath. “I was afraid for you,” she admitted. “And I am still. But I will trust you and your knife. Take care and do not linger.”

The girl grabbed up an empty water bottle and headed down the hill at almost a run—which put Kantees’ heart in her mouth in case the girl tripped and fell against a stone. But Kantees forced herself to remain silent. She turned away so that she was not following the child’s every movement.

Levin was smiling. But it was not the condescending smile she would have expected from Daybian. It seemed genuine.

Kantees felt embarrassed, feeling she had to explain herself. “I am still terrified something bad will happen.”

“It might, but that’s life.”

“I am trying not to let my fear rule me.”

“I’m sure that’s not easy.”

She frowned, feeling that his words were some sort of criticism, but it had not been spoken as if to hurt. It was as if he understood how she felt. So she just nodded.

There was an awkward silence interrupted explosively by a ziri farting.

“Sheesha!”

“I think that was Waileth.”

Kantees gave a short laugh. “They are sitting close together.”

Sheesha lifted his head and sniffed the air, then curled round to investigate Waileth’s rear end. She snapped her teeth at him and he jerked back.

Levin laughed. “A word to the wise, Sheesha, never draw attention to a lady’s misdemeanours.”

Sheesha grumbled as if he were replying and Kantees laughed.

Ulina returned a short while later and Kantees set about cleaning Levin’s feet and applying the beeswax. Kantees rewrapped them—tighter than before—in the same old bandages, but she did not have a lot of choice. There was not much of her own clothes, or Levin’s tattered shirt, left to make new ones and they would not be noticeably cleaner.

She hoped the beeswax would help to protect from any infection.

The boots went on easier with the tighter bandages and with Kantees to hold them while Levin pushed. Once on his feet, he was able to walk much better than he had in previous days.

Kantees saddled Waileth, barely having to think about it as her hands knew exactly what to do.

“Waileth likes you,” said Levin.

“Ziri are just children, they appreciate a firm hand and clear guidance.” Kantees hesitated, and the confidence and genuine friendship that seemed to have built between them allowed her to say, “Just as it is with men.”

Levin smiled. “I take it that you will be in charge again for this journey? And I will merely be the passenger?”

“It seems to be the way it is,” said Kantees. “Although Sheesha is the one who’s in charge.”

“You guide him,” said Levin. “To make the ziri fly with magic is something I would like to learn.”

Kantees trembled at his words. The idea that the Taymalin might fly the zirichasa at magical speeds was disturbing in itself, but worse: this was the only thing she had that was hers and hers alone. What he said made it feel as if he had already stolen it from her.

Levin mounted Waileth without assistance. And that was another threat: he no longer needed her.

She shook her head trying to dispel the thoughts. It was just another aspect of her concern, this time fearing something in the future that had not even come to pass—and could not harm her.

With her own bags and Ulina, she climbed aboard her beautiful Sheesha. She could feel the life in him, and it made her stronger. If Levin had never felt the heart of a ziri the way she did, then he could never learn what she knew. This was not about patterns, this was touching another living creature with more than one’s senses. This was more than just magic.

At her word, Sheesha beat his wings hard and Kantees’ heart leapt as her ziri launched himself from the hill. She almost shouted with delight as his powerful wings drove them upwards. A quick glance behind showed Waileth was already in her assigned position and following Sheesha’s every move without the slightest guidance from her rider.

As he said, he was just a passenger.

They flew west along the cliff, climbing steadily. The sun was at their backs as the day grew lighter. Sheesha took them through the mist of a waterfall that could not reach to the foot of the cliff. She admonished him for making them wet, but she did not really mind.

Her eye was caught by a movement on the cliff-face and she saw fenichasa moving across the seemingly vertical surface. Jumping from rock to rock, eating the plants that grew in the crevices.

Birds roosted and flew.

The screech of a sikechak echoed out as a warning and a threat. Sheesha’s voice echoed back in a dangerous scream. It was repeated by Waileth. They did not hear the challenger again.

Then they burst above the plain of the upper plateau. Unlike the boggy lands below, up here there were farms, fields and livestock.

The line of the cliff went off into the far distance in front and behind, cutting the land in two. Kantees remembered that she had planned to head along the line of the cliff to the coast and then head north to intercept Yenteel and the tekrak.

But her plans had changed.

The mountains in the heart of Esternes were not yet visible, but Kantees knew which direction she needed to go. She had thought she might wait until they had gained more height before allowing Sheesha to go fast, but she was impatient to see what her decision would bring.

She found she desperately wanted to return to Jakalain now. So she urged Sheesha forwards. His wings beat stronger and they accelerated. Then the magic started. The golden light embraced them and it was if the ground rolled away beneath them while they remained completely still in the sky.

Under her instruction, Sheesha climbed effortlessly, with Waileth behind. They passed clutches of farm buildings and the occasional town. They were low enough that they were visible but Kantees thought perhaps they moved too fast and were too unusual for anyone to recognise them for what they were.

From the height they reached, Kantees could see a dark line on the horizon in the west. She shivered, that must be the Talamyrth. If she never visited that forest again it would be a thousand-day too soon. But that probably meant they were not pointing sufficiently to the east.

Sheesha adjusted his direction even as she thought it.

The mountains grew up blue to the north. She turned again, slightly more eastward.

Then she felt the magic. The power of the Mother’s milk beckoning to her from almost directly ahead of them. This was no minor ley-circle. She could almost taste it and Sheesha drew its power into himself and moved yet faster. As if he wanted to go home.

Kantees’ skin tingled with the power she could feel that flooded through Sheesha. Such power. She closed her eyes—and she could see it. There it was like a bubbling lake of molten energy, yellow and red and blue with a stream pouring from it into Sheesha.

They were approaching it very quickly.

Kantees blinked her eyes open and called for Sheesha to slow down. It was almost as if he obeyed only reluctantly. But he did as she asked and they came to a rapid halt high above the castle of Jakalain.

The air was suddenly cold as if they had been plunged into a freezing lake.

Without her requesting it, Sheesha circled, maintaining his height. Kantees realised she had not thought any of this through. She had decided to come to Jakalain but without any clear idea of what she was going to do.

“Oh well,” she said out loud. “If I’m going to die I’m going to be bold about it.”

“I will protect you, Kantees.”

She gave the child a squeeze and directed Sheesha down towards the Ziri Tower. Kantees gave a grim smile. Her people had made that tower. The Taymalin had stolen it, just as they stole anything they fancied. But the truth of the ziri had been kept from them and all they did was use them to race, which she now recognised was a corruption of the true nature of the zirichasa, who would, given a choice, rather fly together.

She could not decide whether she was surprised that the hatch to Sheesha’s eyrie was open. She could imagine that Daybian’s parents would leave it like that in case their son returned riding his ziri.

Jelamie would have given them the letter Kantees had Yenteel write for her, explaining how Kantees had rescued him. And he would have told them the story too, as much as he was willing to at least. The letter had also explained how she was seeking Daybian.

Unfortunately, her arrival might make them think their son had returned. And in the time she’d been gone she had done nothing practical to find their son. She had wandered off to Dakastown to have a single question answered. They might not think she had kept her word.

On a sudden impulse, she turned Sheesha away from his eyrie. He squawked in confusion and protest. “No. We must land in the courtyard.”

Where the bows of the armsmen could kill her in a moment.

She checked quickly that Waileth was behind her as they made the final descent.

People—servants and slaves—ran from the central space. Armsmen appeared on the high walkways and wall. Some with bows. Sheesha landed in the centre. Kantees slipped from his back and stood beside his neck. She felt Ulina’s hand press into hers—the child had never been in a place like this. Perhaps.

She heard the shuffling footsteps of Levin as he came up on her other side, just as the main doors were flung back as the Lord and Lady Jakalain hurried out without any pomp or introductions.

They expected to see their son.

They hesitated at the top of the stairs as they realised the ragged man standing beside Kantees was not the one they hoped for.

Then a young voice shouted, “Ulina!”

18

J elamie pushed past his parents and ran down the stone steps and across the courtyard. Ulina did not move from Kantees’ side. Jelamie slowed to a walk and one of the armsmen hurried towards him, looking back to see whether he was supposed to stop the boy.

Jelamie stopped and the armsmen came up beside him protectively.

“Where’s Daybian, Kantees?” said the boy.

Kantees said nothing but looked beyond him to his parents, who continued forward at a measured pace. It was odd, she thought to herself, she had never really looked at them before. Even the last time they were here she had been in a hurry to leave before the armsmen got it into their heads to shoot the criminal Kadralin.

“Where’s Daybian?”

“I haven’t found him yet,” she said to the boy, and then to the parents, “I’m sorry.”

The Lord Jakalain had dark hair and a beard that was kept neat, as was appropriate. But the black was turning grey in places. Daybian resembled him but the father was thinner. Though perhaps that was due to the worry. His Lady had lighter hair and Kantees suspected she dyed it to keep the grey away. The colour was too consistent. Whatever the case, she did not look like she slept well.

“Tell me why I do not have you shot on the spot, slave.”

Kantees’ blood boiled but she controlled herself. “By your rules that is your right, Lord Jakalain. However, since I am your best hope of finding your son, perhaps that would be unwise.”

She heard a shuffling behind her and saw their gaze shift to her right.

“Lord and Lady Jakalain, I am Levin of Otulain. Please excuse me if I do not bow.”

“Lord Levin.” Lord Jakalain gave a short bow and the Lady nodded. “We are surprised to see you here but you are welcome to our house.”

The Lady added, “Are you in need of a healer?”

“I would be most grateful for that, Lady, though I would take counsel with your husband first. And some food. Perhaps.”

Kantees could tell from his tone that he was smiling. She, however, was not pleased that control of the conversation had passed to him by default. He was not in charge of their party.

“Yes, we do need to talk,” she said. “All of us. Together. In private.”

There were murmurs and the armsman beside Jelamie looked sternly in her direction. A criminal Kadralin talking out of turn and demanding she be in counsel with their master. But that was not the whole problem, it was that the other slaves would see the way she was behaving and might take it into their own heads to stand up for themselves.

“Yes,” said Levin. “Kantees knows more of this situation than anyone. And if not for her I would be dead.”

If it were not for me, you would be safe in your castle still believing that the Dunor was a figment of someone’s imagination.

She turned her attention to Jelamie. “So young Lord, are you happy to be home?”

“I am happy, Kantees,” he said. “But I miss flying in the tekrak and the people here think I am imagining it, even though many saw it that first night. They say I am making it up, will you tell them the truth?”

“I will tell them but I do not think they will believe a runaway slave, do you? If they won’t even believe you.”

“That is a problem.”

The armsmen closed in around them as if unsure whether they were escorting them or arresting them. Sheesha growled, and Waileth followed his lead.

Kantees turned to the big dragon and put her hand on the side of his big head. “It’s alright, Sheesha, they won’t hurt us.” She glanced up at the Ziri Tower. “Why don’t you take Waileth up to your eyrie and I’m sure Romain and the other keepers will bring you lots of food.”

She took a step back as Sheesha gave a short bark in Waileth’s direction and took to the wing. The downdraught from the two of them taking off was enough to make Kantees stagger.

Levin was staring at her. “How did you do that?”

“What?”

He gestured at the retreating ziri.

“He seems to understand what I’m saying most of the time. Don’t you talk to Waileth?”

“Of course, but I don’t expect…”

“You never gave her a chance to show she understands. You say something and then force her by hand and foot anyway.”

Levin went quiet and thoughtful. He glanced once more at the ziri as they approached the open hatch of the eyrie then disappeared inside.

“Will Waileth be all right? Males can be funny about their eyries.”

Kantees smiled. “Yes, they can but I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

They turned and headed across the stones to the main building. Ulina stayed by her side and Jelamie did not seem to be able to make up his mind whether he should be with his parents or Kantees, so remained in a position between looking backwards and forwards.

They passed through the main doors. Only the second time she had ever been inside. The first time was when she was being interrogated about the raid on the castle that she had foiled. And she had lied to save her own skin—though now she wondered whether Levin was right that they might not have punished her after all.

It was obvious to her that punishment would have been wrong, but she did not find it easy to ascribe justice to the acts of the Taymalin. They were just invaders and slave masters as far as she was concerned.

She was not happy about changing her viewpoint. After all, they still had slaves.

The three of them were brought to the same room where she had been questioned. It was much smaller than most of the rooms on the ground floor and ideal for an intimate discussion. When she had been here before it had been set up with one chair facing three. This time there were settees and armchairs, and a fire burning in the grate even though the weather was not too cold. It made the room pleasant to be in.

Kantees had hoped they could get to the point quickly but there was food first—not that she objected, it had been a while since she had eaten properly. There was no attempt at conversation. Levin sat on a comfortable chair with his feet raised while Ulina brought him things to eat. The Lady Jakalain was not present; only the Lord, though they were joined a short while later by Swordmaster Erang and the patterner who had been at her interrogation.

The Swordmaster looked at her askance and then ignored her. The patterner spoke briefly to Levin, perhaps about his injuries since he departed again to return a short while later. Kantees could only suppose he had gone to make some arrangements to heal Levin’s feet.

Time was getting on and Kantees was becoming impatient when Lord Jakalain asked them to sit. Unlike before, the chairs were drawn into a circle. Only Ulina was excluded, although she sat on the floor next to Kantees once more in a way that suggested she was providing protection. If the child was offering to protect Kantees, then she would accept that protection without hesitation.

“It has been barely a five-day since you delivered our youngest son to us, Kantees,” said Lord Jakalain. “I did not expect to see you so soon. And I had hoped you might have news of Daybian, if not actually returning him to us.”

“My lord,” she started, and then stopped. There were lies in her past and if she were to proceed with the truth those lies must be undone. “My lord, the last time I was in this room I did not tell the truth of the events of the night of the raid.”

Erang leaned forward ominously as if he were ready to draw his sword and run her through. Ulina got up on her knees as if she would be able to stop him. Erang looked at the girl and frowned. Kantees pressed her hand on to Ulina’s shoulder and made her sit back on her heels.

“That night I was the one who rang the bell. I flew Sheesha to the tower and fought with the raider who was there.”

“You?” said Erang.

“Sheesha woke me and—” she sighed, “—insisted I ride him.”

Erang was clearly unconvinced, but Lord Jakalain looked at Levin. “Is this possible?”

“I have noticed that Sheesha is a very clever ziri, my lord,” he said. “He would not understand that Kantees was not permitted to ride him but he would understand an attack and might choose the person closest to him to help.”

Lord Jakalain looked back at Kantees, his silence encouraging her to continue.

“When I landed on the roof the raider spoke to me, he asked if I was with the Dunor.”

“Ridiculous!” said Erang. “My lord, must we listen to this nonsense?”

However, neither the lord nor the patterner showed the same degree of scepticism. The patterner was looking thoughtful.

“Why did you not say this at the time?” asked the lord.

“With respect, sire,” she said, “you would not have believed me and you would have had me imprisoned, if not hung, for the crimes I committed.”

“Damn right,” said Erang.

“You saved the castle,” said the lord, “I do not think I would have had you killed.”

Kantees looked at Levin and he gave a slight smile. Perhaps Taymalin justice might not have had her killed but they would still have deprived her of what little freedom she had regardless of what she had done for them. It was impossible to talk to them. They could not see the way they were, even when they uttered the words.

She was saved any further explanation as Lord Jakalain moved on.

“Lord Levin?”

“Sire?”

“May I enquire how you fit into this?”

“Of course, sire. I found Kantees in Dakastown; she was looking for her old master, Kevrey. He had moved since my father had part of the old town pulled down to make way for a park. I’m sure you’ve seen it.”

Lord Jakalain nodded.

“I decided to assist her but at Kevrey’s shop we came under attack. Kevrey was killed and the house set on fire. We barely escaped with our lives.”

Erang was frowning. “In the few days since she returned Jelamie you are suggesting this runaway made it all the way to Dakastown and back?”

Kantees panicked and stared at Levin, willing him not to say anything about the ziri magic. They mustn’t know…

Levin relaxed back into his chair. “Swordmaster, a ziri can cover a great deal of ground, and between Otulain and Jakalain we do possess some of the finest beasts for racing. If, however, you are suggesting that I am lying…”

Kantees closed her eyes and thanked the Mother for Levin’s self-control. If it had been Daybian he would almost certainly have blurted out the truth. She glanced back at Levin and there was a slight smile on his face that suggested he took pleasure in making the Swordmaster squirm. Silly male games.

“No one is questioning your word,” muttered Erang.

Levin acknowledged him with a nod.

Lord Jakalain turned his attention back to Kantees. “However, I am curious as to why you sought out your former master when I expected you to be searching for my son.”

“Because of the mention of the Dunor, sire,” she said quickly. “I had never heard of them but I knew, if anyone knew the truth, it would be Kevrey because he dealt in information and knowledge.”

“And what did he reveal to you?”

“Nothing.” Kantees felt the tears welling up once more even though she had never imagined she could feel such close kinship with a master. “He was murdered before he could tell me.”

“Farahalek,” said Levin. “No doubt hired by the Dunor to silence him.”

Kantees had the feeling that Erang wanted to claim the Dunor were merely a figment of someone’s imagination, but it would mean going against his own master as well as Levin. She looked at the patterner, who had said nothing all this time. He was looking at her with more interest than she liked. She averted her eyes and checked on Ulina. The girl was fiddling with her sleeve. Probably bored with all the grown-up talk.

“How did the Farahalek know that he needed silencing?” asked Lord Jakalain.

“I think I was being followed,” said Kantees.

“Yet you were on a powerful ziri that can outstrip the fastest horse or kichek?” said Erang, not hiding his scorn.

“I was following the river, Swordmaster,” she said carefully. “A ziri must rest, hunt and eat just as any person. A boat on the river may be slower but it need stop for nothing.”

“Were you followed here?” asked the patterner suddenly; he sounded a little nervous.

Levin answered. “A boat travelling upstream cannot go as fast and as soon as we reached Cliffedge we headed here instead. Even if someone attempted to follow, they could not have done so without their own ziri.”

“Unless they took a patterner’s path,” said Erang.

“They did not know where we were going,” said Levin. “We had not decided ourselves until we reached Cliffedge.”

“But your arrival here was noticeable,” said Erang, and he turned to the patterner. “Are there any shipments to go out by the circle today, Master Hokart?”

“I do not believe so.”

Erang turned back to Lord Jakalain. “Sire, while I do not believe in this talk of the Dunor, we cannot take any chances if the Farahalek are involved. If there are any spies in the castle, they will send word to their masters and it will not be long before everyone knows that Lord Levin and the slave arrived here and received your counsel. That will put you and your family at risk.”

Levin interrupted. “What do you mean, spies? We are not at war.”

Erang pursed his lips and looked at Lord Jakalain.

“Do what you must, Erang. Let us do our best to keep this quiet.” Then the lord looked back at Levin. “Of course we are not at war, there is little profit in it. We all have our own lands which we rule as best we may, but that does not mean we trust one another. And,” he said with a glance at Kantees as if he was not happy admitting this in front of one of the lower orders, “there are those families, such as the Hamalain, who are looking to take advantage. There are other ways of taking control of a family beyond simply making war.”

He stood up and everyone followed suit except Ulina, but nobody took any notice of that.

“Lord Levin, let us get your wounds mended as best we can. We will outfit you more appropriately for your journey with Kantees. While I do trust her intent, I would be happier to have a Taymalin such as you with her.”

Kantees seethed once more—they insisted on talking about her as if she was not here—but she held her tongue.

“As you wish, my lord,” said Levin.

“Likewise, Kantees,” he said. “We will have you equipped with as much as you need in order to find and return my son. I will determine what needs to be done here in case whoever is paying the Farahalek decides to have them visit Jakalain.”

19

I t was the strangest feeling in the world to be waited on by servants—not slaves—who only a short time before she had seen as her social superiors. They were Taymalin, she was Kadralin, and that fact did not escape them either.

They did not talk to her. They supplied what she and Ulina needed by way of a bath of hot water and clothes to replace the tatters they were now wearing. One of them—the youngest, a girl not much older than Ulina—remained behind but the others left.

Kantees slowly stripped off the remnants of her clothes, placing the package they had recovered from her old master’s house on the chest of drawers near the window. She stared at it for a long while. It was probably nothing important.

She told herself that but knew she was lying. Kevrey had hidden it for a reason. He had told her of it because he intended her to open it. But that was the point, he’d still been trying to manipulate her, just like Yenteel. So she pretended she had not had enough time, or that it had not been the right time. It remained wrapped.

Ulina seemed at home with the bath and enjoyed washing herself. Kantees had not bathed often and was not entirely sure she liked it. But she let the water cover her body and tried to enjoy it. The soap was a new concept but, again, Ulina was familiar with it and Kantees copied what the girl did.

As the water cooled they climbed out, leaving behind a scum of filth. Kantees found she liked having clean skin and decided it might be something she indulged in again, perhaps not leaving it too long.

The clothes included riding gear but also some coarse but well-made smocks, skirts, shirts and some heavier outdoor clothes. There were two sets for Ulina as well. They were a little large but would be fine for a good year as long as she did not grow too fast.

And there were boots. Kantees had never owned boots. The feeling as they encased her feet and tied up the sides was very odd, but they made her feel tall and strong. It was not unpleasant.

Kantees packed the spare clothes into her bags.

Then caught sight of herself in the mirror. Reflections she had seen, in water and metal. Her old master had a mirror in his bedroom but that was just a small one in a wooden frame. This one was half her height and stood on its own mount. It was clearly very expensive because the glass was smooth and the reflected image so clear.

It still took her a moment to accept that what she saw looking back at her was just herself, and not another person in the room. Her short hair was like a black brush. Clad now in oiled kichek-leather she looked like any ziri-rider she might see at the races. And yet, her skin was too dark. It did not fit the clothes.

Ulina moved up and Kantees exchanged glances with the mirror-child.

“It is a mirror,” said Kantees.

“Of course it is,” said Ulina.

Kantees shook her head. The Taymalin lived in such luxury while the servants had so little, and the slaves had nothing at all.

The young maid answered a knock on the door. It was Levin. He looked much better; there was colour in his cheeks that had not been there before and his clothes had been replaced. He was once again the lordling he was bred to be. But he did not intimidate her, they had been through fire together.

“May I enter?”

“Of course.” She bit back the word sire. He was not her master. He was not her superior. She was the one who commanded the zirichasa. Then the words echoed back to her: “Kantees of the Ziri”. She shook her head; she would not fall into that trap.

Levin stepped through the door with barely a hitch in his step. The healing must have been done and in such a way that it had not drained him in the process. It was a skill Yenteel should certainly learn.

Levin looked her up and down, then nodded. “I prefer this Kantees to the tattered one.”

“What about me?” said Ulina.

He appraised her the same way. “Yes, a clean Ulina is a better Ulina.”

Kantees watched him as his eyes fell on the package. “You haven’t opened it.”

“I was waiting for the right time.”

He nodded. “I understand.” He surveyed the bags. “Is this everything you’re taking?”

Kantees frowned in surprise at the easy way he had moved from the package.

“Aren’t you curious?”

“That’s why I asked if this was everything.”

“You know what I mean.”

“It’s yours, Kantees, it’s not up to me when you decide to open it.”

Her frown deepened. “I don’t understand you.”

“I thought my meaning was plain enough.”

“You nearly died for that.” There was a light dusting of soot on the wood where the package had shed some of its heritage.

“So did you, and that changes nothing.”

Kantees went over to where the package lay, seemingly insignificant.

“I could open it now.”

“I will leave if you wish.”

“No,” she said quickly. “No, I would like you to stay.” There might be words, and I cannot read.

“You may go.”

At his words Kantees spun round, and realised he wasn’t talking to her—or Ulina—but the maid, who did as she was told. Kantees could not quite explain the feeling of guilt that came over her. She knew why Levin had done it, the girl would probably be told to report everything she had seen or heard, but that was not her fault. That was the Taymalin.

But perhaps she was a spy for the Dunor? Kantees was not sure that made any sense, and she did not think she could go through her life imagining that everyone she met was untrustworthy.

Even Levin.

She examined the string tied around the cloth. It was sealed with wax but the heat from the fire that had engulfed the house had melted it. If there had been any glyph on the seal it was gone. She pulled the string until it snapped out of the wax and revealed a knot. That too was thick with melted wax.

“Ulina, can you cut this?”

Kantees held the strings as Ulina’s tiny, and lethal, patterned blade sliced through the knot as if it were water. Levin watched and made a little noise. Kantees glanced at him but he didn’t seem to want to say anything, instead his eyes were riveted on the blade.

As they should be. That little knife with its matching sheath was worth a dozen zirichasa.

Kantees brought the package back to the top of the chest of drawers and pulled the string off and laid it to one side. She hesitated, then unwrapped the material gingerly. The covering fell away, exposing something black that reflected the light from the window in its large facets.

“What is it?” said Levin.

“I don’t know.”

Kantees stared at it. It was a featureless cube of black material with its corners cut off. She reached out and touched it with a finger. It wasn’t cold like metal, it was more as if she had touched stone. Lifeless and inert.

She picked it up and turned, showing it to Levin, then turned it to examine every side. It was all the same with not a single mark on it.

“Have you ever seen anything like it?” she asked. She felt let-down.

Levin shook his head. “I’ve seen some ornamental pieces like that. Tirnian, I think. They usually have patterns inscribed on the surface. Talismans for luck mostly, sold to the gullible.”

Kantees did not think her old master would have been gullible enough to hide a luck charm and protect it with his life. It certainly hadn’t been lucky for him—or them, since they’d had it.

“Perhaps it’s something else,” she said.

“There aren’t any patterns inscribed on it.”

“No.” She held it up to the light and examined each surface to see if anything was visible that couldn’t be seen normally. “Nothing.” She sighed, wrapped it up again and put it in her pack. “Perhaps Yenteel will know what it is.”

The journey from the room in the castle across the courtyard then up the Ziri Tower was one of the strangest Kantees had ever experienced. She led the way, followed by Ulina and Levin, then Lord Jakalain with the Swordmaster and several armsmen.

That she was leading the way was bad enough, but as she entered the lower areas of the tower there were people she knew, both servants and slaves. They passed through the kitchen area and Kantees looked at where Libbibet was bossing the kitchen staff. The place went silent and Kantees could see the moment of confusion before Libbibet recognised her. There was no friendship in that moment.

Kantees understood. She had stolen away with the best ziri; not that Libbibet cared about the racing beasts, but she cared that Kantees had set the place in uproar. That a slave had run away, broken out two slaves from the cells, and probably caused difficulties for everyone else because the Taymalin would be angry and worried others might follow.

At that moment, Romain appeared at the door ahead of them. Kantees knew he would have dearly loved to shout at her. Not only had she stolen his precious ziri but she had taken Gally with her. He had been Romain’s whipping boy and convenient excuse for any errors. But with such important people behind her, he could say and do nothing.

Except ignore her, as he spoke to Lord Jakalain directly. “The ziri have been fed and are saddled, master.”

“Very good, Romain. Lord Levin—” Kantees turned with Levin, “—I hope our care for your zirichak is up to the standards of the Otulain. We will take our leave here and bid you well for your journey.”

“Thank you, Lord Jakalain. I know from Kantees’ skill that she was taught by the best here.”

The Lord glanced around and then beckoned to Kantees. She sighed, knowing that this would look very strange to the people she had once worked with, but she dutifully crossed to her ex-master, who drew her to one side.

“Kantees, I am putting a great deal of trust in you, and believe me, I would not do so if it were not for Lord Levin.”

“Yes, sire.”

“Bring Daybian home to me and I will forgive your every crime.”

Kantees restrained herself and made no comment about being held as a slave with no will of her own. “I have promised I will do it.”

The man grunted an acknowledgement, hesitated and placed his hand on her shoulder. “I cannot claim to understand you, Kantees. If it were me who had escaped my chains I do not think I would return.”

“I am trying to make amends for my lies, sire. And to keep my promises, but once that is done it will be the last you know of me.”

He nodded and let his hand slip from her shoulders. “My wife wishes you well and she sends…” He stopped and pursed his lips as if he did not wish to utter the next words. “She sends the blessings of the Mother. And I offer you the blessing of Taymar.”

“Thank you, sire,” said Kantees. “I accept your blessings in the spirit they were offered.” Though you can keep your Taymar and drown him for all I care.

He said nothing more and looked across at the others. She took that to mean her private discussion was at an end, so she turned and went back to Levin and Ulina. And the frowning cloud that was Romain.

“This way,” she said as she picked up her bags and headed for the lower tower steps. The Swordmaster followed them.

The horde of keeper apprentices watched silently as Kantees went through and up the first ladder. She could feel their eyes boring into her back. They were all slaves—like Romain—what did they make of her and her escape? Did they dream of stealing a ziri and flying away?

This is what scared the Taymalin, and scared Romain too, no doubt. She had made life at Jakalain uncertain.

They passed the lower eyries as they climbed. The younger ziri moved quietly across the stone floors as they passed, and eventually reached the place where Kantees had slept for so many years. She felt something in her throat as a sadness came over her. The old smell of centuries of zirichasa and the smell of Sheesha himself.

He gave a welcoming cry as she climbed up. Waileth snuffled too. The place was so familiar that seeing the second ziri here was strange, but clearly Sheesha was willing to tolerate her. Kantees shrugged; he was old enough to mate and if Waileth accepted him that was fine. Although Waileth being gravid was not what they needed at this time.

Kantees put her bags down and started to unbuckle the tack that Romain had put on Sheesha.

“What are you doing?” said Romain as he arrived up the ladder and stomped across the floor.

“I fly without,” said Kantees.

“Like a savage!”

Kantees stopped what she was doing and glared at him. “What did you say?”

“Riding like a savage. I might have expected it from you.”

“What savages? And how do you know how they ride?”

The Swordmaster had made it up the ladder and moved in behind Romain. It was getting crowded. Sheesha growled at the two men.

“Everyone knows savages ride without a saddle.”

“You never said that to me,” she said. “And what savages? You mean Kadralin? You mean our people?”

“They are not my people.”

Kantees let her annoyance slide away. “No,” she said, “no, they really aren’t your people. You have abandoned them.”

But it meant she was right. The Ziri Towers had been built by the Kadralin before the Taymalin came, and they had ridden without saddles. It pleased her. Then her mood dropped as she realised there was something she needed to tell Romain.

“Jintan is dead.”

The Swordmaster perked up at that, as if it somehow gave him the justification to go against his master’s orders.

“How?”

“You know Daybian stole him away to follow me. We travelled to Hamalain, to Kurvin Port.”

“There was trouble at their ley-circle,” said the Swordmaster. “That was you?”

“Daybian had been kidnapped by the Hamalain, Swordmaster Erang, as you know from the letter I left,” said Kantees, clearly and slowly so that he would be sure to understand. “I was trying to rescue him. He fought bravely when I had released him from his bonds—you would have been proud, he must have learnt your lessons very well. But as we were trying to escape, Jintan was shot. That is how Daybian was captured.”

Romain looked genuinely upset. Certainly not about Daybian, but he had worked with Jintan for so many years. It was something that Kantees did at least understand and she was glad to see that Romain did have a heart.

“The others?” he asked.

“They were well when I left them,” said Kantees. “I do not think they have been in any danger.” I hope not.

In the silence that followed, she finished removing the saddles and reins from Sheesha. She hung them up in the correct place on the wall, then put the bags across Sheesha’s neck and climbed up when he ducked down for her. Ulina climbed up too while Levin got himself into the saddle on Waileth.

There was nothing more to be said. She glanced at Levin and he nodded. Kantees gave Sheesha a command and he walked to the hatch of the eyrie and in a smooth motion launched himself out. He did not allow himself to fall but gave a couple of powerful strokes that carried him upwards and across the keep.

Kantees glanced behind at Waileth and then at the rapidly shrinking hatch of the eyrie.

She sighed. Now all they had to do was find the tekrak and hope there had been no trouble.

20

I t was mid-afternoon when they left Jakalain and headed north-east. Kantees had considered staying at the castle longer but, while they had been treated well enough, they had also been moved along quickly. Fed, clothed, healed and taken back to their ziri.

They were not welcome there. Kantees had no illusions, there was unlikely to be any place in Esternes where a Taymalin lord would welcome a runaway slave, let alone one who had earned a reputation.

But that was behind her now. They needed to find the tekrak. Her instructions to Yenteel had been simple enough. Head north to the mountains and then skirt them to the east—away from the Talamyrth.

That had been a five-day ago. The tekrak was slow but it was still faster than a horse or kichek and did not need to slow down to ford rivers or cross hills. They would not catch them today, so she did not hurry and allowed the ziri to fly at normal speed. As the sun approached the horizon, they found a suitable place to set down where two rivers joined, making it impossible for anything to approach them on two of three sides.

They made a fire and settled in for the night.

Kantees found her feet to be very cold when she woke. She had moved in the night and they stuck out beyond Sheesha’s wing. The sun was not up but there was a dim light in the sky that edged the feathers.

She sighed and listened to the sound of the water from the two rivers. A constant but infinitely varied sound. Something in the sky caught her eye. She reached out to push away the feathers and saw a golden light passing across the stars at a great height.

Kantees caught her breath. A ziri riding the pattern. It was heading away from the mountains behind them down to the south and east. She kept her eye locked on it because it was no more than a short golden line slicing like an arrow through the blackness.

So, she thought, that is what Sheesha and I look like when we are high in the sky. If it were daylight they would probably be invisible to the ground—never mind if there were clouds.

But who could it be? She was sure she knew the answer. It must be her own people, the Kadralin who had never forgotten the old ways, who lived in the heart of Esternes.

When I am finished with this, she promised herself. When I am done with this journey, I will find my people and join them. I’ll take Ulina and Gally with me.

She climbed to her feet, pushing against Sheesha’s body to lever herself up, and stepped out onto the damp grass. She shivered and looked across at Waileth. It seemed Levin had succumbed to the idea that he could sleep with his ziri and there was no visible sign of him, but she could hear him snoring quietly.

Breathing the cold air deep, she tried to shake off the lethargy of sleep. She went to her bag and pulled out a pie from Jakalain. She took it to the bank overlooking the confluence of the two rivers and watched the water as it churned and clashed before moving off into the new channel, wider, deeper and faster.

She took Kevrey’s gift from inside her jacket, laid it on the grass and looked at it. The stone it was made from was completely black but its surfaces reflected the brightening sky. It was just a lump of polished stone.

Why hadn’t he thought to leave some instructions with it? Because he had not expected to be killed.

He had become a fraction of what he was when she knew him. It had looked as if he stayed drunk as long as he could afford alcohol. And that he had sold almost everything to satiate his thirst. She looked into the distance and frowned, then searched the sky for the line of gold, but it was long gone.

She was nothing but a runaway slave on a fruitless mission to rescue a lordling belonging to a race she despised.

Not all of them.

She hated the responsibilities that had been piled on her. Escaping slavery was supposed to make her free but she felt even more weighed down than she had before. Hemmed in by promises she could not break. Promises that would end in her death before she was able to fulfil them, or any of the dreams that she had.

“Don’t think too hard,” said Levin. He stood beside her but she did not look up.

“I almost wish I had ignored Sheesha and stayed an ignorant slave.”

“Almost.”

“There is nothing good about being a slave, Levin.”

“I can’t imagine it.”

“No, but I don’t have to,” she said. “And my life was not difficult. I had Sheesha.”

“The ziri compensate for a lot,” he said.

“What in your life needs compensating for?” She did not keep the sarcasm from her voice.

“I am the spare, Kantees. My only purpose in life is as the replacement if something bad should happen to my elder brother. But it is to him that all the attention is given. He is the one who gets the best ziri, the best tutors, the best choice of consort. I have no value unless he dies.”

“Do you want him to die?”

“Of course not, he is my brother and I love him.”

Kantees, skilled liar that she was, detected the stench of falsehood in the words uttered so quickly and so smoothly. “But?”

“I do not want him to die, Kantees. The thing you hate so much about being free? That is the thing we all fear and hate. You chose it without realising what road you were taking, but my brother had it thrust upon him.” He paused. “I do not want that responsibility, Kantees. I do not want to be responsible for all the lives of Otulain. I like only having to race the ziri.”

She stared out across the grass-covered landscape of low rolling hills descending away from them. “But responsibility catches us up in the end anyway,” she said.

And, she thought to herself, even a slave has responsibility even if they are not supposed to. You have to take care how you deal with the others. You look after them even if it is only in a small way. She helped Gally so he would not be punished by Romain. She made it her duty. Her responsibility, even though she was not always successful.

“I don’t think it’s possible to live without responsibility,” she said finally. “The things we choose to bind us are the things that make us free.”

“Kevrey made you into a philosopher.”

She could tell from his tone he was smiling. “Is a philosopher a weapon?”

“Ideas are.”

“And philosophers make ideas?”

He crouched down beside her. “Philosophers? Yes, I suppose so. Storytellers. Bards and their songs.”

“Whose idea was it to enslave my people?” she said. “Here on Esternes?”

“The driver of the cart back in Dakastown called you by name.”

“You heard that?”

She shivered.

“Kantees of the Ziri.”

She shrugged. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

His hand came down on her shoulder and she did not shake it off. Instead, she turned and looked at him. His face was close to hers and she could feel his breath when he spoke. “It means revolution, Kantees.”

“I don’t use that name. I don’t want it.”

It was puzzling the way she did not feel threatened by his touch, so unlike the way she’d rebelled against Daybian’s advances.

Words she was not expecting formed on her tongue and were expelled through her mouth almost as if she had no control of them. “Would you like to kiss me?”

“What?”

Again the words came to her as if from somewhere else. “If you would like to kiss me, I would not mind.”

He frowned. “No.”

She frowned. “No?”

“I mean, you are a very attractive woman, Kantees. I’m sure many men would like to kiss you.”

“But not you?”

He looked at his hand on her shoulder as if he had not realised it was there and pulled it away. Not abruptly, but with a certain finality.

“I’m sorry, Kantees, if I have been forward and implied something I did not intend.”

“You don’t want to kiss me? Why not?”

“I am happy to kiss you if that’s what you want.”

“But you don’t want to.”

He looked helpless and confused. Kantees could feel the anger boiling up in her, fighting with her own confusion and self-doubt.

“Because I’m Kadralin.”

“No!”

“You’ve been with many Kadralin women but you don’t want me?”

“Not at all. I haven’t been with any Kadralin women.”

“I heard what Lady Deenya said to you back in Dakastown.”

“It wasn’t true.”

“So it is because of my skin?”

“No,” he said in exasperation. “I haven’t been with any Taymalin women either.” But his voice caught on the word any.

“You’re lying to me, you have been with a Taymalin woman.”

He sighed. “I don’t understand how we arrived here.”

“Explain to me why I should not be insulted?”

“Because I did not start this, Kantees, you were the one who demanded I kiss you.”

“I did not demand.”

“But you were upset when I refused, how is that not a demand?”

The realisation she was behaving just like Daybian swept through her but somehow she just could not stop. “Have you ever lain with a woman?”

“Once.”

“Once?”

“Once,” he repeated and then sighed again. “It was not my idea and I cannot say I enjoyed it.”

“You didn’t?”

“Must I repeat everything I say before you will believe it?” Levin glanced back at where the two ziri were still asleep, or at least feigning it. Ulina had not appeared.

“You need to explain yourself.”

“Surely that is my own business and not yours?”

Kantees stopped. She wanted to say that he owed her for his refusal but that would not have been the truth. “I’m sorry, Levin. You’re right. It’s none of my business.”

His hand came down on hers. Which just confused her again. She looked into his face, still close, still just as sweet and perhaps sad.

“Kantees, it is my duty to be able to produce offspring. We must be capable of continuing the line, there must always be an Otulain going forwards into the future. If there is not, the family name will die and we will be nothing more than a memory. The name is everything; our personal desires and wishes are not important.”

“You’re saying they made you lie with this woman so that you could have a child?”

“Oh no, I could not have married her, she was a whore.”

“Oh,” she said. “Then why?”

“To make sure I was capable.”

Sometimes she felt like she should perhaps cut out her own tongue so that the words did not come spilling out. “And were you?”

He looked away and took his hand from hers.

“Oh,” was all she could say as a mountain of guilt landed on her. She found his hand with hers and squeezed it. “Levin,” she said, “if you want to lie with me at any time, just let me know.”

A strange smile came over his face. “You’re offering yourself to me?”

She frowned again. “Yes, clearly that is what I just did.”

“Why?”

“I know that sometimes when there is something that you must do and the weight of responsibility is on your shoulders, it can be difficult.” The look on his face suggested her explanation was not enough. “I just want to help you.”

He gave a small sad laugh. “I think perhaps that is the kindest and stupidest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“It was certainly kind but I do not think it was stupid.”

“Are you experienced in the ways of love, Kantees?”

She hesitated, wanting to divert the question but honesty seemed important in this moment. “Less than you,” she said quietly.

“What if you were to get with child?”

She shrugged and then smiled. “Women have their ways, Levin.”

“And you know these ways of women?”

“I’ve heard of them but I do not know what they are. Besides, perhaps you are incapable of siring a child.”

“That is not very encouraging.”

The sound of a ziri burp drifted to them across the grass.

“Sheesha!”

“I think it was Waileth.”

“You can tell the difference?”

Levin shrugged. “My ziri is a lady, she is more delicate in her tones.”

Kantees laughed and was glad for the opportunity to change the subject.

She gathered up Kevrey’s stone, put it inside her tunic and got to her feet. “Let’s get moving,” she said. “We have enough light. The ziri are still full from yesterday. The sky is clear and we shall find the others today.”

“What are we looking for?”

“A tekrak.”

“It’s not the season for them, and besides, we would never spot it from a significant height.”

“Trust me, Levin, we’ll see this one.”

21

O ne thing Kantees had noticed in her pattern flights with Sheesha was how far away objects appeared to move slowly. It was not something she understood but it seemed to be a magic that pervaded the world. Close objects moved quickly past, far ones crawled.

Which was convenient for them as they climbed high above the hills keeping the mountains to their left, because from a good height they could watch for the tekrak and not worry about missing it. Sheesha accelerated until the magic grew and expanded to embrace them.

It was almost normal now. She still found it astonishing and wonderful—but unsurprising. She smiled. It seemed a person could accept anything. She turned and looked at Levin. He was still wonder-struck, staring down and around. As she watched, he reached up to touch the golden light, but it retreated before his fingers.

That’s interesting, she thought. It expands to ensure we stay inside. What if someone fell off?

She didn’t imagine the magic would protect someone who became completely disconnected from a ziri in the formation. Would the magic work for more zirichasa? How many? Did the magic only come from Sheesha or did Waileth make it too? They had travelled faster to Cliffedge with the two zirichasa, and that was important.

She shook her head. Perhaps she would have a chance to find out one day. Perhaps she would find her own people and they would know.

“Keep an eye out for the tekrak, Ulina,” she said.

“I am,” came the curt reply. She was looking to the left so Kantees focused on the right where the low hills spread out. There were clusters of houses surrounded by fields that gave way to untended lands where the huge lukisa roamed in herds. There were not many trees, just the occasional copse here and there. Similar to the land that surrounded Jakalain.

Far to the east the air became hazy, along with the dark of what Kantees took to be another forest like the Talamyrth. Their experiences in that place made her wary, and she would not attempt to cross one that large again unless she knew it was safe.

She took in the view ahead but was sure the tekrak was not there. She turned her attention to the mountains, certain her people were hidden in the valleys there—hadn’t she seen the ziri flying high and fast this morning coming from the mountains?

But from what she could see the valleys did not look hospitable. The nearby ground was green and probably made excellent grazing, but further in the steep sides of the grey cliffs came together forming high ridges. In the distance the higher peaks were topped with white, which she took to be snow. Sheesha had taught her that air became colder the higher you went. She sighed. There was no point trying to judge from here. She would have to look. When she had time.

Sheesha gave a sudden cry and changed direction abruptly. Caught unawares, Kantees fell back, though her legs hooked under the wings saved her from falling. Ulina seemed unmoved by the experience.

Kantees looked back to ensure Levin was still with them only to find that Waileth was in precisely the same relative position, as if the course change had not even happened. Levin gave her a wave. He was firmly buckled in to the saddle. Waileth could fly upside down and he wouldn’t fall off.

She looked forward trying to see what Sheesha was doing.

At that moment the magic faded and they were blasted by the wind. Sheesha was ignoring her. He screamed again; it was a call she had never heard before. All she could see ahead was smoke behind the rounded slope of one of the bigger hills.

Instead of gliding, Sheesha drove himself forward with powerful strokes. The only time he had acted like this before was the night they had rung the alarm bell.

The hill grew closer and Kantees saw the shape of a ziri fly out from behind it and into view. A bright arcing shape flew up. An arrow with a burning tip. The ziri snapped it from the air then dropped it.

In a wave of recognition, she realised it was Looesa. Now, instead of wanting to hold Sheesha back, Kantees leaned forward, pushing into Ulina. The top of the rounded bulk of the tekrak came into view with smoke swirling around it. From behind she heard Levin swear. She turned her head. Waileth was still in formation.

Kantees tried to make Sheesha head towards the slope on this side. If there was a fight, Kantees wanted to be on the ground, with the bags and Ulina. They would be no good in a battle on Sheesha’s back.

Sheesha resisted, still heading directly to where Looesa was climbing and turning as another fire arrow shot from the ground. Whoever was attacking was hidden by the curve of the hill. Kantees could not imagine Yenteel, Gally and Tenical were putting up much of a fight. They were not warriors.

Neither was she.

“Sheesha, you need to let us off,” she said quietly as if her voice would carry to those who were attacking her friends. At her words Sheesha adjusted his course again and arrowed towards the ground on this side of the hill. He back-winged ferociously, driving her into his spine as he touched down on the grassy surface. Ulina slipped off in a moment. Kantees lifted her leg over and dropped, pulling the bags with her.

Almost as if he had not stopped, Sheesha launched himself off the hill with a tremendous kick. She watched as he curved round and away, beating his wings to gain altitude. Waileth, who had not landed and still had Levin on her back, manoeuvred smoothly into position behind him again and followed his climb. Levin pulled a short bow from among his bags and looked as if he were trying to string it. It seemed he had given up trying to control Waileth.

Sheesha was still climbing and it looked as if he was planning to go over the hill. Kantees searched around for some stones to fill her pockets and pulled her knife from its sheath. She was not going to throw herself into a fight with anyone armed with fire arrows, but if she could add to the confusion, while those who could fight dealt with the problem, then she would.

It was at that moment she realised Ulina was missing.

She looked up and saw the girl, crouched and heading around the hill, but also climbing to give herself a better position, perhaps. Kantees dared not call out for fear of attracting unwelcome attention in the child’s direction.

Kantees shuddered at the memory of Ulina slitting the throat of the mercenary leader, Ofindah, with her tiny knife before he even realised he was being attacked. He had been arrogant and Ulina had come at him from behind as the man threatened Kantees.

But she was still a child.

Kantees abandoned the search for stones and with her knife in hand she raced after Ulina. She stumbled along the slope of the hill, angling down to come at the attackers from a different angle and, with the Mother’s blessing, distract them.

The thing that concerned her the most was that they had no plan, but then how could they plan when she had no idea what lay beyond the bend in the hill?

In only a few moments the tekrak came into view. She had forgotten how massive it was, with its huge body composed of giant overlapping leaves that retained the lifting gas that kept it in the air.

It was tilting precariously. Its fire-tube roared with flame as it tried to get away from the ropes strung between it and the ground. There were at least eight of them, hooks at the end of the three solidly attached to the gondola, while the others were stuck in the root system above.

Kantees stared worriedly at two fire arrows embedded in the leaves, still burning. If they managed to get through to the lifting gas the whole creature would go up in flames in the blink of an eye.

She couldn’t see anyone in the gondola. It was like a pin cushion with ordinary arrows sticking from it. The others must be inside and lying on the floor to avoid getting shot—unless they were already dead. Kantees pushed that thought away.

Her eye was caught by one of the embedded fire arrows which, without warning, dislodged itself from the leaves, flew sideways and then dropped straight down.

Yenteel, or more likely Tenical, must be alive. They were the only two she knew who could work a patterning and she did not think Yenteel was so skilled.

Then Looesa flew over her head screaming. He came down low, skimming the grass, and disappeared from sight round the hill. Shingul followed. Kantees was so happy they were both unharmed, at least so far.

There were yells from the other side. Kantees kept her head down and moved forwards.

Another fire arrow went up and penetrated the body of the tekrak. She had always been told they were unfeeling plants yet the surface where the arrow penetrated quivered and moved.

There was a boulder close to where the attackers seemed to be, so Kantees crawled to it, then carefully raised her head just as Sheesha and Waileth came over the brow of the hill above her.

The attackers were difficult to make out as their clothes blended with the grass and bushes around them. Looesa and Shingul had passed the group and were making a long loop in the distance away from her.

As Sheesha and Waileth streaked down from behind the men, she saw Levin let fly with his bow into the group. There was a cry. Kantees saw immediately how bad this would be. The men reacted quickly as the two new ziri went over them—the one with the rider became the focus of their attention. Arrows flew after him.

Kantees desperately wanted Sheesha to veer off and make Waileth go with him. Why didn’t Sheesha defer to Levin on Waileth’s back? Why was he still in charge?

Sheesha must have sensed the danger. Without any warning he folded his wings in tight, along with Waileth, and they dropped out of the sky like stones—with Levin hanging on for his life. The wings flicked out and she heard Levin grunt in pain.

The arrows shot harmlessly over the ziri. This time.

Where is Ulina? She looked up the hill. Kantees shook her head. She did not like the idea of Ulina attacking armed men. She knew the child was a violent force of nature but surely there were too many men for even her to deal with. She might get two of them, but those that remained would kill her in no time. Meanwhile, the ziri might be able to harass and distract the men but they didn’t seem to be able to stop them, and eventually the attackers would bring the tekrak down, which seemed to be their intention.

If only they had a plan.

She glanced up again. Four zirichasa were now in a diamond formation, Sheesha at the tip, turned across the sky. They would be coming in fast within a dozen heartbeats. A man bellowed in pain and anger just beyond the ridge. Ulina.

Kantees stared at the ropes holding the tekrak, then at her knife. It was far too blunt to cut through the cords fast. But Ulina’s knife could slice through in moments despite its size. Looking up again, Kantees paused for a moment, watching the ziri curving in towards them from the other side. Sheesha, you need to come in low, she thought.

Moments later the formation dipped towards the grass and disappeared from her view. Kantees sprung from behind the boulders. She was so far back from the main group she had to take several strides before she could see the men.

Five of them, four with bows and two of those with flame arrows. Smoke rose gently from a small fire. Kantees sprinted across the grass, her feet slipping momentarily on the moist ground. They did not look in her direction.

The man without a bow headed away from the main group, uphill. He must be after Ulina. The others were preparing to fire at the tekrak. Surely they must be aware of the incoming ziri, and even if they weren’t they would only have to glance to their left.

She needed to get the ropes off the tekrak. Once it was free they would be able to escape.

“Over here,” she shouted. Five heads turned as one. Their faces were grim and they did not look surprised. The man heading away from the group, she saw now, had a thick beard, and he turned away and continued back up the hill. Kantees could not spare the breath for the curse she wanted to utter. He was the one she needed to engage. Three bowmen turned back to the tekrak but the fourth raised his bow and drew back the string in a single motion. He let fly at her as if he were flicking dirt from his sleeve.

A blade of gold exploded behind the men and shot across the sky. For the tiniest fraction of a moment Kantees saw four ziri surrounded by the bubble of golden magic and then she was thrown to the ground by the violent blast of wind that accompanied them.

Something stung her cheek.

Although she had never been on the outside of the effect she at least knew what she had just witnessed and recovered quickly.

Poking her head up, the men were nowhere in sight. They must have been driven to the floor just as she was. Another cry of pain rent the air. Kantees gathered herself up and flung herself towards the group again.

The tekrak bobbed on the end of its bonds. One of the hooks had ripped a chunk of leaves from the main body. Kantees had a passing thought as to whether it hurt the plant but her plan was more important. She knew Ulina was somewhere close but could not see her.

“Ulina! Cut the ropes!”

She repeated her words as she bore down on the men. Unfortunately, her words seemed to spur them into action. Perhaps that was not a surprise since she wanted to thwart their plan, whatever it might be.

The first man on his feet was the one who had shot at her with his bow. He was still clutching it as she careened into him with her blade held out in front of her. He sidestepped but not fast enough. Her shoulder struck his and she felt the blade digging in. Without thinking, she grabbed his arm and clung to it as he fell back under the impact. She was forced in the other direction but used his arm to keep herself upright and pulled him round, off-balance.

She lost her balance and stumbled. He was now behind her but still she clung on as she turned. There was no plan in her mind and she was terribly aware of the other three men rising from the grass around her.

Ulina ran across her field of vision, heading for the ropes. Kantees was grateful the child had heard but knew she herself would be cut down with so many enemies, so many men, around her. Her impulse was to let go but she stood more chance of surviving if she kept the man turning.

She was now facing downhill and the tekrak was above her.

“Kantees!”

She recognised Gally’s voice immediately and almost cried out. She must protect him at the very least. Maintaining her grip on the attacker she launched herself into a dive down the steep slope. She pulled the man over the edge of the drop-off. She did not care whether she lived or died. She meant to take him with her wherever she ended up.

A whipping sound cracked through the air. Men shouted behind her. As she and her opponent turned through the air she saw the sky and four ziri descending. Men shouted and the arm she clung to pulled at her. She held on.

He hit the ground first and she crashed on top of him. The impact drove the breath from her and she felt a pain in her ribs. Instinctively she released his arm and rolled away, trying to force air into her lungs. Pain lanced through her chest. The shouts of the men turned to screams of pain that cut off quickly.

Kantees managed to breathe.

She was lying with her head downhill and she watched as the tekrak moved away from the hill with ropes dangling from the body and gondola. Upside down she saw Gally’s round face next to Yenteel’s thin features. Both staring down at her. She wanted to shout at them to hide but no words came. Even breathing was hard.

Every moment she expected the man she had attacked to leap on her and spit her with a sword or an arrow. But that moment did not come. Her breathing became easier and the pain became a dull ache. Perhaps she was not dying.

22

She jumped as a figure loomed over her.

“Are you going to lie there all day?”

Levin. She tried to move but her head-down position on the slope, and the aches that threatened agony when she tensed her muscles, kept her where she was.

“I can’t move.” Her voice came out in a rasp.

“You have a scratch on your cheek,” he said, and then, to her embarrassment, studied the rest of her body. “I see no other injuries. You’re not bleeding.”

The silence was broken by the sudden roar of the giant tekrak’s fire-tube. Levin looked up as the shadow crossed the sky above them. He shook his head. “I understand why you did not try to explain it. How can that be?”

She said nothing and he turned back.

He knelt beside her. “Let me help you,” he said. “I’ll lift you into a sitting position and then we’ll turn you.”

“I think that will hurt.”

“Or you could just stay there.”

She took a deep breath, which made her ribs hurt, and nodded. She braced herself against the pain as he put his arm behind her neck and pulled her up into a sitting position. She bit down on the agony. How could she not be injured and be in this much pain?

There were ziri moving about further up the slope, silhouetted against the sky, while the tekrak manoeuvred itself and settled towards the ground. Closer, there was the man she had fought. He lay with her knife buried in his stomach, the blood on his clothes already drying and turning brown.

Levin saw where she was looking. “You got him.” He seemed impressed. “There’s not many that could go one-on-one against a Farahalek and live to tell the tale.”

She looked at him as if his words did not mean anything, but he was still looking at the body.

“Someone wants you and your friends very dead.” He sighed. “Unfortunately, that now includes me. If I had known what it meant to be mixed up with you I think I would have left you on your own in Dakastown.”

“If I had known,” she said, “I would have been happy that you did.”

He shrugged. “What’s done is done. It’s good to know that even a gang of assassins cannot stand against angry zirichasa.”

“Ulina?”

“She is unharmed.” This time she knew he was uncertain, as his eyes searched for the girl but she was not in sight. “If I read the situation right, she killed two of them before she cut the ropes.”

Kantees nodded, although he was not looking at her. “Can you turn me?”

“Sorry.” He took hold of her legs and twisted her around until she could sit normally without support. Although now she was looking downhill and away from the ziri and the tekrak. Levin was kneeling to her side and looking up.

“How does a tekrak get to be so huge, Kantees?”

“Even the patterner, Tenical, does not know,” she said. “They taught him the patterns to control it but nothing more. So he says.”

“Can you trust him?”

“I have had no reason to doubt his loyalty so far.”

“That is not truly an answer.”

“I do not truly know the answer. It is possible he is leading us into a trap, but what choice do I have if I am to rescue Daybian?” Assuming I’m even right about where he is.

Levin nodded and stood. He held out his hand to her. “Can you walk?”

The prospect did not please her but she took his hand and he pulled her to her feet. Pain lanced through her but it seemed it only happened when she used the muscles in her lower chest. She pressed her fingers into her clothes and found an area that was sensitive.

She looked at the dead Farahalek, the position of the knife handle aligned with where she hurt. So, killing him had been an accident. She had fallen onto him and driven the knife in. A fatal accident.

Leaning on Levin, she let him guide her along the slope, climbing slowly. There was an unpleasant smell drifting down to them.

“You might not want to look,” said Levin.

The bodies of the remaining attackers were ripped to pieces. Sheesha and the other ziri were preening. Just like they did after eating a kill. It occurred to Kantees that she was, perhaps, safer than she thought she was.

Ulina was sitting a short distance away wiping her little blade on the grass. The tekrak touched down and its roots writhed. Gally and Yenteel jumped down from the gondola. Kantees touched Levin on the arm. “They could do with some help.”

“With that?”

“Just help.” She caught his concerned look, though whether it was because of the giant plant or for her she could not tell. “I’ll be fine.”

He let go of her tentatively, ready to catch her if she could not stand without him. She managed to stay on her feet. Sheesha’s head slid under her other arm and she closed her eyes and clung to his neck. She wanted to bury herself in his feathers.

Assured of her safety, Levin picked his way through the bodies and stood a short distance from Gally and Yenteel. Kantees wondered how he felt about working alongside two slaves—but then he did not seem bothered by her. And it wasn’t because he was attracted to her. She had got that message very clearly. He was not interested, and for that she was grateful. Her offer was genuine but she hoped he would never take her up on it.

Yenteel had spoken, though Kantees could not hear what he said. Levin went round to the other side of the gondola, probably to grab the ropes there.

“Thank you, Sheesha,” she said quietly and scratched him just the way he liked it. She knew she ought to thank Ulina as well, though she wondered if it was wrong to encourage the girl’s violence.

Farahalek. They had killed five assassins. The ziri had done most of the work, distracting them and then tearing them to pieces. Ulina had got two, and Kantees had taken the other—with nothing but luck on her side. In truth it had all been pure luck from beginning to end. They could not count on that happening again. She just needed to find Daybian, free him, and then she could disappear. She had no desire to be hunted by assassins for the rest of her life.

This was no fight of hers. If the Dunor wanted to take over the Taymalin world what did it matter to her? She was not involved.

Above her, the root system of the tekrak writhed and released the gondola. It dropped at one end on the slope and rolled sideways. They should have wedged it first. But it came to rest without falling any further. It took only a few more moments to drag the monstrous creature a short distance further and, under Tenical’s instruction, make it come down and engage its roots. She wondered whether it took extra effort to make it do that in the day when it would normally be flying—or perhaps its injuries encouraged it to dig in and feed.

She shrugged. It was another thing she had no need to know. Once they had rescued Daybian she would leave them behind as well.

Gally dug a mallet from a pocket and drove a stake into the hill. He wrapped the rope around it and tied it off. He then hurried to Yenteel and did the same, finally disappearing from sight to do the ropes on the other side.

Yenteel turned and hurried down the hill in her direction, his face split by a wide grin. “You’re late, Kantees.”

“I think I was just in time.”

Yenteel looked down at the bodies. “I’m sure we could have dealt with them.”

There was a damp red patch on his shirt. “You’ve been hit.”

“Already repaired,” he said. “There was little enough to do while Tenical tried to get the beast loose from the ropes.” He took in her injuries. “You, however, are in need of assistance.”

“Bruises is all.”

At that moment Sheesha decided to shift his position and pain shot through her chest. She couldn’t keep it from her face. The humour went from Yenteel’s.

“Lie down.”

Clinging to Sheesha’s neck Kantees went down on her knees—the slope ensured that was not too far. Yenteel helped her turn, though the pain lanced through her at every move. Tears formed in her eyes, although she did not feel as if she were crying. Yenteel cradled the back of her head and she let herself drop back, grateful that she did not have to tense her muscles any longer.

“Where is it hurting?”

She pointed in the direction of her lower ribs on the left. Without waiting for permission Yenteel pulled her clothes up and down, and the cold air drifted across her skin. It was not unpleasant. She watched Yenteel’s face as he studied her flesh. She thought she ought to be embarrassed but she was too tired to even worry.

“This may hurt,” he said quietly. It didn’t, at least at first. She could feel his fingers pressing gently on her stomach and then on her right side. His fingers were smooth and she realised he must have done no hard labour in his entire life. Lucky him.

His hand touched her just below her breast. “What are you doing?”

“Checking the extent of the damage.”

“What damage?”

Then it hurt, like needles driven into her flesh, and she was so surprised she cried out.

“That damage.”

She tried to lift her head to see but the very act was torture. “What is it?”

“You’re very badly bruised.”

“Bruises don’t feel like that.”

She grunted as he did something else to her.

“I think at least one of your ribs is broken.”

“Can you fix it?”

“I expect so,” he said. “But how did it happen?”

She glanced in the direction of the man she had killed. “I fell on him. I must have pushed my knife into him with my chest.”

Yenteel gave a short laugh. “That’s one way to do it.”

Darkness blocked out the sky. Kantees squinted and realised it was three people, all leaning over her: Ulina, Gally and Levin.

“Gally and Ulina, get a fire going,” said Yenteel. “Away from these bodies.”

He stood up and faced Levin. He put out his hand. Levin’s hesitation was obvious but then he clasped hands. “I am Levin.”

“Yenteel.” He looked back down at Kantees. “Another lordling? You seem to collect them.”

“I must be just lucky.”

“We need to have a talk, Kantees,” said Levin.

Yenteel held up his hand as if to ward him off. “Not until she’s been healed.”

Sheesha chose that moment to bring his massive face down to Kantees’ and lick her.

“I’m all right,” she said as convincingly as she could. “You go and hunt with Looesa. Leave Waileth and Shingul here to protect us.”

The ziri nudged her face gently and moved away around the hill. Moments later he was airborne with Looesa falling into formation behind him.

“That’s what I want to talk about,” said Levin.

“And I said, later,” said Yenteel and glared at him. Levin was higher up the slope but Yenteel was taller than him by a head. “She needs to be moved away from this—” he indicated the bodies, “—and healed. Then you can talk to her as much as she can stand.”

After a moment’s hesitation Levin nodded. “How do you want to move her?”

“There are poles in the gondola we can use to make a litter for her to lie on, we’ll carry her.” Levin set off immediately.

“I can walk,” said Kantees.

“I don’t know how badly your ribs are broken. You think this hurts? How bad do you think it would be if a broken bone pierced your lung?”

Kantees went quiet.

It took some time before they had the litter prepared, and longer—including several painful moments—before they got her round to the other side of the hill where Gally and Ulina had built the fire.

She had stopped talking since Yenteel’s warning, and she could see almost nothing as she was on her back looking at the sky except the bulk of the tekrak. So she watched the clouds moving swiftly across the distant blue. Lostimal loomed large and bright, making one of its day time appearances. She knew the movement of the two moons was entirely predictable and Yenteel’s device for predicting feedings.

Did knowing when a feeding would happen make it less wondrous?

When Yenteel returned he brought burnt sticks from the fire and set about placing patterns on her skin, where the damage was worse. He tried not to cause pain but he could not prevent it completely. Her sharply drawn breaths caused him to stop and mutter an apology.

Once the fire was built, Yenteel sent Gally and Ulina to fetch water. Kantees would have been worried if it was Gally alone, but there was not much that could withstand the child’s wicked little blade. The thought did not give her comfort.

She wondered what Levin was doing.

Her drifting thoughts were interrupted by Yenteel.

“I’m ready to begin,” he said quietly. “Are you?”

She did not want to speak so she gave the barest of nods. He nodded back with a reassuring smile. She closed her eyes and tried to relax, feeling the dull ache in her chest. She knew he knew how to do this, he had done it himself when he was at death’s door—though it had needed Sheesha to provide the power to finish the task without him killing himself.

Yenteel’s gentle chant filled her ears and her skin prickled, but not with pain. A golden light filled her vision behind her eyes as the power was moulded to the pattern of her body—the way it should be. Her ribs felt as if they burned, but again without pain. Yenteel’s hands moved on her skin and pressed in.

That hurt!

Something moved. Shifted. Clicked.

Yenteel’s chanting continued. In her half-dream state she wondered if the chanting was necessary. She did not chant when the ziri flew so very fast that the magic took them.

With her mind separated from her surroundings, she could not put a dam on her curiosity and the questions layered themselves one on top of the other. Why did no one know what the ziri could do? What was the ziri she had seen in the sky? Who were the Dunor and why did they want to kill her? What was the strange thing he had given to her?

Then her body filled with warmth and golden light, and she slept.

23

T  he first thing she realised when she awoke was that she was cold and damp. Finally, she discovered she was hungry. Very hungry.

She sat up before she remembered that she should be careful. Her ribs on the left felt tight but did not hurt. The walls of the gondola surrounded her. Open to the elements, the roots of the great plant wound into the frame and the world beyond was grey with rain, which the body of the tekrak protected them from.

At the front sat the dark form of the patterner, Tenical, making his patterns to guide the monster. To the left she could see the darker grey of mountains. They must be heading north still, depending on how long she had been asleep.

There was a sound behind her and Gally appeared at her side. He sat on a bench and offered her a hunk of bread and a cup. He was grinning. She smiled in return; she had learnt long ago that his smiles were infectious—perhaps because they were untainted by the guile of most people.

“Thank you, Gally.”

“Yenteel said Kantees want food when you wake.”

“He was right.”

“We have birds, Kantees,” Gally said brightly. Kantees felt confused.

“Birds?”

“See, pretty birds.” Kantees was already looking out into the space around the tekrak but Gally wasn’t pointing there, he was pointing at a cage inside the gondola. And he was right, she could see moving flashes of gold and blue. They looked like the feathers of a zirichak but tiny—and when ziri hatched they were already bigger than these, but had no feathers.

But something else was bothering her. She looked towards the rear where Ulina and Yenteel sat, and frowned.

“Where’s Levin?”

The smile disappeared from Gally’s face. Kantees panicked. “Where is he?”

Gally pointed past her out towards the mountains. She turned her head and saw a diamond shape of ziri curving across the nearest slope.

She did not want to accept what she saw. Sheesha was at the head of the formation, with Levin on his back. It felt like a betrayal.

“Sheesha let him,” said Gally in answer to her unspoken question. It seemed even Gally was not happy with the situation.

“Why?” she said to no one in particular.

“You can ask him when we land,” said Yenteel. “But I watched him very closely. He did not force Sheesha—not that I can imagine any way he could—he asked politely. I think he’s been trying that trick of yours.”

“And?” Kantees could not keep the frightened desperation from her voice. How could she bear it if a Taymalin stole her knowledge? Like they always did.

Yenteel shrugged. “Nothing. Either Sheesha doesn’t want to, or there’s something about you. You’re still Kantees of the Ziri.”

She was torn. On the one hand she wanted to chastise him for using the name she hated, on the other she was grateful that she was important to the ziri. At least enough that they would not use their magic for just anyone.

And she should not be upset about Sheesha letting Levin ride. After all, he was trained to take any rider. The formation swung in towards the tekrak and Levin waved to her. He was smiling. Her return wave was not enthusiastic but she did not frown. He was still using a saddle.

The day wore on and they covered a considerable amount of ground. She spoke briefly to Tenical, who explained they were following the original plan of skirting round the east then north side of the central mountains.

“Where did those birds come from?”

“Those raiders had them, they’re melinasa.”

Kantees looked blank.

“They’re used for carrying messages—” and at Kantees’ continuing look of confusion, “—you write a message and attach it to their leg, or use a harness. They can perceive specific patterns from great distances and can be trained to travel to them.”

“Why not just use a patterner’s path at a ley-circle?”

“Because ley-circles are few and far between, and sometimes you might not want others to be able to intercept them.”

“Can we use them?”

He shook his head. “We don’t know the patterns they’ve been trained for so they will travel to wherever the Farahalek intended. However, they are also delicious when roasted.”

Kantees spent some time watching Levin working with the zirichasa. He tried various manoeuvres to see how the formation was maintained. To Kantees’ eye, the ziri were perfect. They were all much the same size, although Sheesha was the biggest and they kept up with him and matched his every move.

She guessed Levin must have tried to achieve the great speed earlier in the day when she was asleep. He did not try it now.

The rain diminished, although the clouds were still wrapped around the peaks of the mountains. Eventually Levin simply flew along with the tekrak as it followed the foothills.

It was still light when they set down and Kantees felt strong enough to help with tying up the tekrak. Levin landed and lent a hand as well. There were few trees or bushes on the mountain slopes, but they had brought wood with them and built a fire close to the giant plant.

“How is it?” Kantees asked Tenical, nodding at the tear in the creature’s side where the broken leaf covering was turning brown.

“It seems none the worse,” he said. “New leaves grow out all the time and replace old ones which flake off. It was not badly damaged and it does not feel pain.”

Kantees did not comment on the tremors she had seen during the fight, but she did not think he was right.

Levin came to sit by the fire while Gally attended to the ziri.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t ask you,” he said. “But Sheesha seemed willing enough to let me ride him. He is an impressive animal.” He smiled. “I wish he had been mine.”

All of Kantees’ bad temper evaporated at his words, and now she felt guilty for even thinking them.

“It seems Kantees of the Ziri is the only person for whom Sheesha will do his magic.”

Her bad temper was back in a moment. “Don’t call me that.”

“Yenteel said you didn’t like it.”

“I don’t. I’m not that person.”

“What person is that?”

She frowned at him. “I’m not a hero, or a leader. I don’t want to be part of any story. I just want to live my life without anyone dictating how it should be.” She took a deep breath. “I did not free myself from Taymalin slavery—your slavery—just to be caught up in a different one.”

“I did not create the slaves.”

“Your life is what it is because of slaves. People like me, Gally and Yenteel.”

“I don’t think it’s right.”

“What have you done about it?”

Levin went silent for a long while and stared into the flames. “You’re right, but you are also wrong.”

“I am not interested in your justifications, sire.” Her final word dripped with sarcasm.

“You are right, I have done nothing about a system that I do not agree with.” There was a momentary hesitation as if he were about to say something else, but he stopped himself. “But you’re wrong about being a leader. Every person here is following you. And we have heard your name being whispered by the common people. If you wanted to escape into anonymity you are already too late. You were too late when you stole Sheesha.”

Kantees stared at him. She wrapped her arms around her knees. Her throat hurt and her eyes dripped tears. “I don’t want this.” Her voice came out in barely more than a croak as she felt her plans crashing around her. “I only want to find a home.”

Levin reached out and placed his hand gently on her shoulder. “I cannot stop what is happening. I do not have that power, I doubt anyone does, but I will help you in any way that I can.” He glanced around at the others going about their chores—or simply staying away from the fire as she and he talked. “And that is the same for everyone here, I think.”

“Why?” she whispered.

“They trust you and believe in you.”

“I have nearly killed them so many times. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

He shook his head and smiled. “They are still alive and they are still here. You have not led them astray.”

“I lost Daybian.”

“And now you’re going to fetch him.”

“I’m always scared.”

“Me too,” he said. “Only a fool would not be afraid.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze and let his hand drop. “I had a teacher once, I treated him very badly but he was always patient with me despite everything. He used to say that most people live their lives without attempting to achieve anything, and it seems like they are happy, but when they are gone there is nothing to show they ever lived. But then there are those who make decisions and force them to come to pass. They may fail but they pick themselves up and try again. He said that was the mark of a true hero: someone who made life obey them, instead of obeying life.”

She looked at him and wiped the tears from her face. “I hope he said it better than that.”

Levin gave a short laugh. “He did but I didn’t listen well enough.”

“You’re saying I’m a hero because I twist the world’s pattern to my own desires?”

“That’s probably a better way of putting it.”

She shook her head. “That’s where it doesn’t work because I didn’t choose any of this.”

Levin got up and stretched. “And I think you are deluding yourself, Kantees of the Ziri. Are you really trying to say that nothing that has happened has come from your choices?”

“That is what I’m saying. This is nothing to do with me.”

“I’ll give you some time to think it over, Kantees, but if you can give me even one thing that has happened that is not from a choice you have made then I’ll accept what you say. Not before.”

Her chest still ached but she got to her feet without his help. He was taller than her but she was able to hold his eye. “I don’t need to think about it. It was against my judgement that we landed in a powerful ley-circle in the heart of Talamyrth where we were attacked by half-men, and nearly died of suffocation because a ward Yenteel created could not be taken down.”

“I have not heard this story,” said Levin, “but the Talamyrth is known for the evils within its borders. But tell me this: If you had told your companions that you refused to land there, what would have happened? Would they have deserted you and done it anyway?”

Kantees hesitated.

“No,” said Yenteel from a short distance away. “Even Daybian would have acquiesced if Kantees had insisted we go on.”

“But the ziri were tired, they needed to rest,” she said.

“So you made a choice,” said Levin.

“But then, of course, I am to blame. I always knew that.”

Levin smiled again. “It’s not blame, Kantees, it’s leadership. Responsibility.”

And with that he walked away, leaving her fuming powerlessly as she tried to think of something that was not her doing, her choice. And every time she thought she had something, his argument would sneak in under her defence and her decision was always there, lurking in the background.

It was as she suspected: Everything was her fault.

But they followed her anyway. Very foolish of them.

24

T  hree days later Kantees felt as if she was being driven mad by boredom. The tekrak made steady progress but it was so slow it felt like nothing. Kantees could have travelled all the way to their destination and back several times with Sheesha’s magic.

She had even toyed with the idea that it might be possible to include the monstrous plant in the golden light, but of course there was no way to get it up to the necessary speed for the magic to begin. Nor any way to persuade Sheesha to include the creature in his magic, even assuming it was possible.

There was so little to do that she was driven to the black stone of Kevrey. She pulled it out and examined it again. It continued to reveal nothing of its secrets to her. She showed it to Yenteel.

“Have you seen a stone like this before?”

Yenteel took the stone and turned it over in his fingers. “Where did you get it?”

“My old master, Kevrey, had it hidden. He told me where it was as he died. I thought it might be important but I can make nothing of it.”

“Where did you get that?” She jumped at the harsh tone of Tenical, who sat in his usual place among the cushions in the prow of the vessel, guiding the tekrak. It seemed it did not need constant attention but he remained at his station in case of emergencies. The attack of the Farahalek had upset him.

“It’s mine,” she said defensively.

“I doubt that,” he said. “Do you even know what it is?”

“It’s mine because it was given to me by my old master in Dakastown. And no, I do not know what it is, but you do so why don’t you tell me?”

Tenical hesitated and the look on his face suggested that perhaps he felt he had already said too much.

“You cannot take it back, patterner. Levin said it looked like a trinket from Tirnia but that it would have patterns on its surface if it was. It’s made of rock and yet it is perfectly shaped and perfectly smooth. This much I know and it is nothing at all. Yet you recognised it instantly from the merest glance. Tell me what it is.”

Kantees felt the gondola move and heard Yenteel coming up beside her. “I am also very interested in what you think this is,” he said. “And unlike Kantees, I am willing to force the answer from you.”

“You will not,” said Kantees. “Whatever Tenical has to tell, he will do of his own free will. I will not make another person a slave, otherwise I become Taymalin even though my skin is black.”

Tenical turned to face forward and his hands moved across the patterns in front of him. The tekrak changed direction slightly, giving a mountain spur more room.

The patterner turned back to face Kantees.

“It’s a focus of power, a reservoir of Mother’s milk. Called a chilafrah in the old language,” he said. “The talismans of Tirnia are a corruption of their design, not that any of them work. They are simply delusions for the hopeful and the hopeless. But what you hold in your hands is real.”

Kantees looked down at the black stone in her hand. “But what does it do?”

“I have told you.”

“I know that name,” said Yenteel. “I thought they were a myth of the Slissac or, at least, lost with them. It is like a cask for ale, Kantees, but it holds power.”

Kantees stared at the lump in her hand. “This?”

“If it is what Tenical claims.”

“You doubt me?” said Tenical with a hint of irritation.

Kantees turned it over. The shape looked the same from all directions, it had no up or down. “You still haven’t told me what it does.”

Tenical simply tutted and turned away.

“If you have the skill,” said Yenteel, “it can be used to make patterns. It is like the scrolls given to me by Lintha. They hold their power within them which is released when activated.”

“Scrolls,” muttered Tenical. His tone indicating contempt for such patternings.

“It was one of those scrolls that made the mist when we rescued you,” said Yenteel. Tenical did not respond.

Kantees sighed. “It is of little use to me.”

Yenteel stared at her.

“What?” said Kantees.

Yenteel put his hand over the chilafrah. “What you hold in your hands is worth a thousand ziri.”

“Then I shall sell it,” she said. “I cannot use it and there is nothing for me to use it for if I could.”

“Keep it secret,” said Yenteel. “If it was widely known you have it, everyone from the most ineffectual cutpurse to the armies of men will be happy to kill you to get something that valuable.”

Kantees closed her eyes. “Everything just gets worse.”

That night they camped between two peaks next to a fast-flowing river that tumbled down a ravine towards the lowlands in the north. Yenteel showed her on his rough map that they were approaching the west coast of Esternes along the north side of the central mountains. There was another vast forest, though this one was of pine trees with minimal undergrowth, unlike the Talamyrth to the south.

Levin had spent most of the day on Sheesha’s back. Kantees did not complain since the ziri came to her as soon as the saddle was removed and licked her face. Sheesha was still her ziri.

“How long before we get there?” she asked Tenical and Yenteel, while Levin stood nearby warming himself and Gally fussed over the zirichasa.

They discussed it for a few moments and then Yenteel said, “Not tomorrow, but the next day, probably early. Perhaps by midday.”

“And what is our plan?” She looked at Tenical.

“We were sent to capture Daybian of Jakalain.”

“When you should have been after me.”

Tenical shrugged. “I was simply driving the carriage. Lorima Hamalain was giving the orders until the mercenaries killed him. I did not want to follow him to whatever paradise awaits us, and they needed me.”

“Unfortunately they already have Daybian,” said Levin. “Otherwise I could have pretended to be him.”

“What do the patterners at the circle know of the comings and goings?”

Tenical shook his head. “I do not know.”

“Is it likely they would know anything?” She was thinking of the way she had pretended to arrive in the ley-circle at Dakastown. There had been no real surprise, people just assumed they hadn’t been informed.

“At this end it is unlikely. They told me only as much as I needed to know.”

Kantees frowned at Tenical. Getting him to talk was like extracting a splinter, slow and painful.

He must have understood her impatience and annoyance because he continued without prompting. “But there were guards at the other end, they were alert and there were many of them.”

A new thought occurred to Kantees. “How many of these giant tekrasa did they have? And how many patterners were being trained like you?”

Tenical pointedly shut his mouth. Levin shifted to place his hand on his sword, and Ulina pulled her tiny knife from its little sheath around her neck.

“Stop it!” she said. “Put those away. Nobody will be forced to speak.”

Levin looked at her defiantly but removed his hand from his sword. Ulina hesitated longer but returned the blade to its sheath.

Kantees turned her attention back to Tenical.

“Many,” he said finally.

“How many?”

“I don’t know how many tekrasa but there were twenty patterners in my cohort. I was the most successful,” he said. “Some were simply scared and others could not grasp how to use the patterns.”

Kantees held up her hand. “And how many tekrak travelled the patterner’s path?”

“Perhaps one or two each day.”

Almost to herself Kantees said, “And yet there has been little or no talk of them.”

“Preparations for war,” said Levin. “The Taymalin must be warned.”

“The Dunor are Taymalin, Levin. Why should I care if your people kill each other?”

“Because if you did not care you would be as bad as those you hate,” he said gently, echoing her own thoughts. “Kadralin slaves and peasants will be used as frontline troops. Nobody wins in a war, Kantees.”

“We will rescue Daybian, then you can warn your people.”

“And if I am killed?”

“Then I will warn them.”

We might all die, she thought, but we will pretend that cannot happen.

“So, what is our best way in?” she asked.

They discussed their choices until the fire burned low and the stars were sharp points in the sky until they had a plan that would get them in, but they had little idea of what awaited them at the other end of the path. Whether subterfuge would get them to Daybian, or secrecy, swiftness or violence, they had no way of knowing.

And if the Dunor were really preparing for war, violence would be a road to certain death.

Kantees did not find it encouraging, but what choice did she have? She had made a promise.

25

K  antees barely spoke to anyone throughout the following day. Some of that was because she had chosen to ride Sheesha and it was impossible to converse with Levin even though he remained so close behind.

The edge of the inland mountains turned to the south-east but they were still too far from the coast to be able to see the sea.

Being once more on Sheesha’s back brought life back into Kantees. She did not realise how much she had missed it until that moment when Sheesha launched himself from the ground and his powerful wingbeats carried her upwards. The sloping grasslands and screes dropped away and there was only the cold air singing in her ears.

The other ziri fell into their usual formation with Waileth on her right, Looesa on the left and Shingul to the rear directly behind. She wondered how they decided on the pattern and how they maintained it regardless of how much she had Sheesha climb, dive, and turn.

She kept him flying normally. There was no way of knowing how much strength he would need tomorrow. It was bad enough that they would somehow have to persuade the patterners to allow ziri through as well as the tekrak. And then they would have to get back.

But that was for tomorrow.

She took the ziri into the mountains. She had convinced herself she was not looking for her people, at least not yet, but if she happened upon them in the hidden valleys it would not be a bad thing. After all, she had seen the golden streak in the sky and she knew what that meant.

“Kantees!”

She turned to look at Levin when he called out. They were just crossing a cliff from which a thin waterfall fell. So tall that the base was shrouded in mist, and where that thinned out she could see the rocks. There seemed to be no matching river flowing away.

Levin was still in his saddle. It seemed he was unwilling to trust his mount sufficiently to become a partner in flight, preferring to stay a master. Typical Taymalin.

But then Sheesha turned his head as well. Without wrenching Waileth’s head with the reins, Levin moved out of the formation. Waileth turned and flew directly away to the side. Smoothly, as if it were planned, Shingul beat her wings harder and moved up into the place Waileth had occupied. No, not quite the same, slightly further back and out. She turned about to stare at Looesa, he had moved back and out as well.

Sheesha’s interest waned and he looked ahead once more.

Kantees stared at Waileth’s shrinking form, which turned so she matched Sheesha’s direction once more. Then Levin turned her head back in and they approached steadily. There came a point where Shingul dropped back and Waileth took her place once more.

There was a plateau ahead, high and frosted over, and while no trees grew on it there was a hint of green. Kantees directed Sheesha to it and they landed.

Confused as to how she was feeling, Kantees slipped off Sheesha’s neck and strode over to where Levin was undoing his straps.

Through clenched teeth she could only say, “What did you do?”

“I wanted to talk to you after the fight with the Farahalek, but I could not find the right time. I didn’t want to when the others were present.”

“What did you do?”

“I changed the pattern.”

“You changed the pattern.”

“Yes.”

Kantees watched as he finally slipped off the ziri and his boots crunched into the coarse and frosty grass. She could not think of anything to say. It was as if she had fallen and was too dizzy to stand.

“How does Sheesha know what you want, Kantees?”

“What do you mean?”

Levin shook his head. “I don’t understand you. You’re not stupid, and you want to know the answers. Yet when it comes to the relationship you have with Sheesha you just ignore what’s obvious to anybody who has been around you for any length of time. Sheesha knows what you want and he does it.”

“He’s clever.”

Levin glanced past her, at the gold and blue monster. “Yes, he is. I’ve never met a stupid zirichak but he is cleverer than all of them. Perhaps that is why he’s their leader.”

“He senses my movements on his back,” she said. “You wouldn’t understand because you insist on using a saddle. I want something and I make a movement, he feels it and does what I want.”

Levin reached his arm up and around Waileth’s neck covered with its glistening orange feathers. It was so natural it was as if he did not even think about it. He put his head on one side, reminding her of how a zatek looked when it was trying to understand human speech. She suppressed the smile that tried to reach her lips.

“What about when we fought the Farahalek?” he said. “How is it that Sheesha chose to launch himself at such speed so low over the assassins that they were confused and we could attack and beat them?”

“Luck,” she said, but so weakly she was not even convincing herself.

“Tell me you didn’t think of it before Sheesha did it.”

“I didn’t…”

Levin said nothing but his eyes reminded her of her old master when he was chastising her.

It was true. She knew it was true. And all the times before when she had thought a thing and Sheesha had done it. Though in almost all cases she had been on his back there were too many for it to be any kind of coincidence. Too many for it to be simple interpretation of her body movements.

There was a magic between them. Just as Sheesha had a bond with the other ziri, so that he could guide them and arrange them in a particular formation around him.

“You are not wrong,” she said very quietly.

“You are Kantees of the Ziri, in truth.”

She wanted to protest but found she could not. It was almost as if she had always known, from that very first moment when she had seen Sheesha. Touched him.

“But I don’t know his mind,” she said.

“Why must it work both ways?”

“That doesn’t seem fair.”

“You care for him, he knows that.”

She turned away from them and walked to the cliff-edge. The ground became rougher and more unstable. She stopped and looked out. The valley below curved away to the right and there were mountains in every direction. Their white caps glistened and a wind she could not feel ripped away the snow on their peaks in white streamers.

The sound of Levin’s boots came up beside her.

“You worked all this out just by watching me with Sheesha.” It was more a statement than a question. “Has anyone else noticed?”

“Yenteel, I would imagine. He was the one who named you, wasn’t he?”

“He hasn’t said anything.”

“I believe Yenteel has his own plans, perhaps discussing them with you is not among them.”

“I trust him.”

“You have known him longer than I have.”

“But you’re not wrong,” she said again, and glanced at him standing beside her.

He turned his head and smiled. “I’ve been right twice in such a short time. I am honoured.”

She frowned and then smiled. “Am I really that bad?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know where you get the strength to carry on. I can follow you but I do not believe I could lead these people.”

She looked back at the wide expanse beyond the cliff. “What did you mean when you said you changed the pattern?”

“It doesn’t make sense for the ziri to follow blindly,” he said. “They are not like wolves, tied together in a pack so tightly they cannot bear to be alone.”

Kantees had never encountered wolves but she knew what he was talking about and she realised he was right about the similarity and the difference. Wolf packs were bound by a pattern so completely that if one were killed the others felt it. They were more like a single animal, like a hive of bees. If wolves could have such magic then why not zirichasa? Only their bond was temporary.

“You dominated Waileth, became her leader once more. How?”

He shrugged. “We do it all the time when we race, don’t we? Otherwise all the ziri would follow the dominant one. Once I remembered that, it was easy enough to put myself into that frame of mind and command Waileth to follow my lead instead of Sheesha’s.”

“He didn’t like it,” said Kantees.

“But you didn’t mind.”

“I was surprised, but no, Waileth is yours. I did not mind you breaking free.”

“So Sheesha followed your lead and let Waileth go.”

“I was glad in a way.”

“Glad?”

She smiled at him. “It meant I wasn’t responsible for you and Waileth as well as everybody else.” She paused. “I don’t want to be responsible for everyone.”

“We’ve discussed that already.”

She sighed and nodded. “So does Waileth understand your unspoken commands?”

“Unfortunately not. And nor does Sheesha as far as I can tell. That talent is all yours, Kantees.”

Kantees turned and headed back towards Sheesha. The mountains loomed higher towards the heart of Esternes. Perhaps, in the depths of the mountains, there were those who had the same talent. Her people. She would find them.

After they had rescued Daybian.

26

A t a height where Sheesha would be a dot against the blue, Kantees looked down on the ley-circle they had come so far to reach. The tekrak was still half a day out and she had come ahead to scout the area.

This circle was located on the surface, which pleased her, and backed by the rising slopes of the mountains. If they could get back through it, they would be able to retreat into the valleys and hide.

A short distance from the circle was a small town, barely more than a village, except there was some sort of fort on the other side of the river flowing from further up the valley.

Tenical had not mentioned that, but she was not entirely surprised. The ground around and between the wooden buildings, both within and outside a palisade, was churned up. There were kichek-drawn wagons moving and men busy on the buildings.

She had never seen a war, but she could see these were being constructed as barracks and that could only mean armsmen. Slightly further up the valley she saw oval shadows that she had taken for trees, though she now recognised them as tekrasa, seventeen of them. She knew just one of them could carry thirty men—she had seen it with her own eyes so many moon-turns ago. Over five hundred armsmen in that group alone and there was no telling how many more were being grown.

It was hopeless. How could they possibly get in, find Daybian and escape with him?

But no matter how hopeless it was, she had no choice. The idea of simply flying away did not even cross her mind.

She turned Sheesha and headed back along the valley. Gally also troubled her. She did not want to take him because of the risk, but she knew he would protest. After all, she had already left him behind once, and she doubted whether he trusted her any more.

But how could she take him into a place that he would not understand and put him in danger?

The alternative was not much better. She had spotted a small, isolated valley on her way here. She could probably persuade him to stay with Looesa and Shingul. It ought to be easier getting in without two extra ziri and a boy.

Except she might never return and he would be left to fend for himself. She did not think the ziri would abandon him but they might, and there was only so much food she could leave for him. Would the ziri feed him too?

The argument tore her one way and then the other, all the way back to the tekrak. She could not leave Yenteel. She needed Levin, and Tenical was essential. Ulina would be useful but Gally was simple and would not understand the risk.

The plan could work with him but she did not need the added worry. As Sheesha came in to land along the approaching path of the tekrak, she had managed to convince herself she would persuade him to stay behind.

Seeing her ahead, Tenical instructed the tekrak to descend and it dipped down towards her, coming to a gentle halt. Yenteel threw down a rope and Gally climbed down it. He hammered a stake into the ground and tied the rope swiftly.

The tekrak floated above and the rope creaked as it stretched and strained bringing the floating plant to a halt.

Gally dropped the hammer beside the stake and glanced at her. She smiled. Why not? He had learnt these new skills for handling the tekrak and performed them very well.

“Kantees?” She blinked at him. This was one of the few times he had initiated a conversation between them. She saw him glance up at the gondola. Yenteel was looking out and gave Gally an encouraging nod.

Gally walked towards her almost deferentially. “Kantees?”

“What is it, Gally?”

“Do not leave Gally behind.”

She opened her mouth but no words came out. She looked up at Yenteel, wondering if he had put Gally up to this. She looked back at the round face and wide, sad eyes.

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Gally will protect you and look after the ziri. Gally can help with the tekrak. Kantees saw Gally tie the rope. Gally knows how.”

“But I will be so sad if you are hurt.”

“Gally will be sad too but Gally wants to help. If Gally goes with Kantees, Gally can protect.”

His eyes were pleading with her and his voice almost broke. The suppressed emotions tore her even further apart—his desperate need to help, and the pain it would cause her if he died because of his willingness. Every word widened the chasm in her until she felt as if she would fall apart where she stood.

Waileth glided down and landed a short distance away. Levin removed his helmet and watched her as if he knew what was happening. They must have been discussing it behind her back. What did they think she should do?

What was the right answer?

Then she remembered her old master Kevrey. He had not been talking to her. He seldom did. But now she realised that she had been present in many meetings he had with his customers. More meetings than it seemed she should. So she could listen, and learn.

A high-born Taymalin had come asking Kevrey what magic he could use to make the right decision for his daughter’s forthcoming betrothal, as there were two suitors and they were of roughly equal value. The question was, which should be chosen?

It was not the sort of thing Kevrey liked to be consulted on, but when one is known for possessing knowledge it was the kind of enquiry that came up. And Kevrey would answer, but he refused to charge for it, because it meant he had committed the visitor to a specific decision, and if it went bad Kevrey did not want the blame.

The problem was that, for some questions, there was no right answer.

In the case of the suitors her master had said, “If they are equal choose the one most equitable for your daughter.” When there was no obvious right or wrong, he’d suggest choosing the one that felt the best.

“Gally,” she said. He flinched and she realised she had said the word sternly. She smiled, reaching out to put her hand on his and soften her tone. “Gally, it would be an honour for you to join us in our adventure.”

It took him a long moment to decipher her words, and then it was clear he did not believe them—or thought he had misheard. “Gally can come?”

Her smile broadened. “Gally must come. I need you with me.”

Again the pause. Then it was almost as if he swelled with pride. And hugged her. Over his shoulder Kantees could see Levin, who smiled and nodded.

She detached herself from Gally and called up to Yenteel. “Are we ready?”

“You need to be up here, but yes, we are ready.”

Kantees looked at Levin. This was the part of the plan she was least happy about. They would be trying to take the ziri through with them. She hoped the patterners at the gate would not argue. They had the tekrak on their side: anyone flying one must be part of the Dunor force, and it was unlikely the patterners would know every high-caste Taymalin who was a friend to them.

Yenteel and Gally were merely slaves, but she must play herself.

With some difficulty, she climbed the rope and hauled herself into the gondola. Climbing ropes was not a skill she had ever required. Below them, Levin, with Gally’s help, transferred his saddle to Sheesha. He climbed aboard and buckled himself in.

Finally, Gally untied the rope, knocked the stake out of the ground and, carrying it and the hammer, made his way up. Far quicker than Kantees had managed.

Tenical changed the patterns and the fire-tube erupted, pushing the tekrak forwards.

Ulina simply sat and watched. She too had a task in this plan, although it was not killing. Kantees considered how ludicrous it would have been to leave Gally behind when she was taking a young girl along. Except for the little fact she was certain that, whatever happened to them, Ulina was the one best equipped to survive. Small enough to hide and ruthless in a fight.

It took the tekrak a long time to reach the valley but as soon as it was in sight Yenteel came over to her.

“It’s time.”

She nodded. This was the part she had been dreading: from this point on she would have no control over what happened. She became the victim as Yenteel tied her legs and hands, then—after a moment’s pause—put a gag on her.

He had not tied the bonds so tight they cut off circulation or hurt, but they were firm enough to pass inspection. And she was completely trapped. Terror swept through her as she tried to move and her helplessness became even more apparent. Without intending to, she struggled against the ropes.

“Don’t,” said Yenteel. “Panicking yourself will not help.”

Kantees would have dearly loved to tell him where he could stick his soothing words. That he was right just made it worse. She forced herself to become immobile and the panic faded to a nagging anxiety.

The tekrak turned north and into the valley. Yenteel moved to the side, looked over and then forwards.

“Well, we’re committed now,” he said. “They’ve seen us.” He went to the rear and looked up. “Levin is in position above us. Those ziri look impressive.”

They had discussed whether she should be blindfolded as well. She had put her foot down, and insisted she needed to see what was happening even if she could do nothing about it. But the truth was different because stuck here in the middle of the gondola she could see nothing of significance, only the hills sliding slowly past on either side.

It was frustrating and her wrists and ankles ached because of the way she had struggled.

If this did not go the way they had planned she would suffer badly. But Ulina was still there, sitting a short distance away. The child was the only one able to ensure Kantees regained her freedom.

The roaring of the fire-tube ceased and there was no sound but the creaking of the ropes. The tekrak descended. Gally gathered up a neatly coiled rope and stood at the side. Four shadows passed them on the right as Sheesha, Waileth, Looesa and Shingul flew down and past them.

This was dangerous. Zirichasa were not used as beasts for transport—they were only for racing. It was important that the name of Kantees of the Ziri had been spoken here. The name she hated would be the key to getting them in. They had captured her and her ziri to bring to the Dunor.

Gally threw the rope over the side and climbed out to descend it. She had seen him do it many times now but it still made her heart pound: what if he fell?

But he didn’t.

The tops of wooden buildings a short distance away came into view. The tekrak stopped and, if all was well, should have landed in the ley-circle ready for the path to be opened.

She heard Levin raising his voice, angry. Yenteel got up and came over to her. “Sorry, Kantees,” he said. He pulled her roughly to her feet and manhandled her to the side of the gondola. The ropes cut into her skin.

Below them she saw Levin with three patterners. They did not look happy and neither did he.

“That’s Kantees of the Ziri,” he shouted. “That’s the one the Dunor have been looking for, not that sop from Jakalain. Now, do you want your masters to know that you kept their true prize from them?”

Kantees could not believe he would use such a weak ploy. But their options were limited. She had an idea and fixed her eye on Sheesha. What if Levin was right? What if she really could influence the ziri’s actions? She tried.

Sheesha screamed and reared up, wings outstretched. The other three followed suit. The patterners jumped back and kept retreating. Kantees had seen Levin jump but he managed to hold himself together even with four angry ziri behind him.

“Get that path open, right now!”

27

Someone went to fetch the chalk and burners.

Yenteel looked from the scene below to her face. He stared at her as if trying to read her thoughts, to see if the little show from the ziri had been something to do with her. Or she could just be imagining it in him.

Kantees settled Sheesha, who immediately sat back on his haunches and preened himself. The others followed suit. Kantees could not deny it, Levin was right, the ziri looked on her as their leader. If only she could understand how this worked.

“Looks like we’re past the first turn,” said Yenteel, making an awkward reference to ziri racing. From a standing start, the rider who reached the first turn in front stood a good chance of winning—assuming they had the staying power for the whole race.

The patterner novices returned quickly and set up the burners around the circle; the three patterners set to work marking out the designs needed for the path.

She had been through this process a hundred times with Sheesha. He would not be concerned walking the patterner’s path, and she knew the other zirichasa had done it too.

Gally had taken a patterner’s path and she had not had time to warn him. She doubted it would be any concern to Yenteel, even if he had never done it before. He would see it only as something of interest. Ulina? Kantees had no idea, but little of the world seemed to disturb the calm of the child.

Yenteel helped her back to the bench. “It might be easier if you lie on the floor,” he said. “I could make you comfortable.”

She glared at him.

“More comfortable, anyway.”

She wanted to say no, to be alert for whatever happened. But the preparations for the path could take a while, and it was difficult sitting when she could not adjust her feet or move her hands easily. Reluctantly she gave an abrupt nod.

Yenteel found her blanket and rolled it up to support her head, then helped her lie down. “Better?”

She grunted her assent through the gag. Better perhaps, but still not good.

A patterner’s path was a strange thing, invisible until you entered it—only the patterner who created it knew its boundaries. From what she had learnt from her many journeys and listening to patterners talking, each was unique. It was like a tunnel cut from the World’s Pattern joining two ley-circles. The skill of the patterner who formed the path determined its length, not the real distance as a ziri might fly. The size, too, was dependent on skill but also what was desired. A change in the pattern could make one wide or tall or small.

She did remember one terrible journey where it had taken nearly half a day from one end to the other. Sheesha had become quite upset. Kantees might be experienced in making these journeys but they still scared her. The walls and floor of a patterner’s path consisted of intricate and moving light but between the threads there was just empty nothing. An abyss of utter night into which she felt she might fall if the path should fail.

She knew that, in the walls, she was looking directly at the World’s Pattern where it had been pushed and bent to the will of the patterner. That power in itself was terrifying, but what it was doing to the world seemed more so.

She hoped that these patterners were skilled and the path would be short.

It was possible that she dozed. She certainly had no idea how much time had passed when the tekrak’s fire-tube burst into life again. From her position on the floor she could see even less, but it was easy enough to watch the clouds cut off by the start of the path. She watched the daylight as long as she could and then it was nothing but the abyss and patterns.

She heard Gally’s voice. He was moaning quietly. They had not thought to warn him or be with him. Then there was Yenteel soothing him.

She could not see Ulina and there was no sound from her. Not that Kantees was expecting it. Levin should be walking the zirichasa through, probably in front so that he was not affected by the burning gas from the tekrak.

In their planning they had also discussed how the time of day would affect their arrival. Tenical was unsure how much of a time difference there was between the two locations. Those for whom it mattered—sailors and patterners—knew the world was round like a ball, and that the sun and the moons went around it. It meant that as the sun turned about them it was a different time of day in different places.

Kantees had never experienced it, since all the places she went for the races were not far apart. But the weather could be completely different, going from cold Jakalain to some place where the sun’s heat bore down relentlessly.

But if the place they were journeying to was more advanced in time it might be evening by the time they reached it. Or early morning. Tenical had said that it was a large island and that the weather was warm. More than that they did not know.

She stared at the lights that moved just beyond the gondola. No patterner had ever told her not to touch the walls, and it would have been a strange rule since they must walk on it. She had reached out and run her fingers along the boundary of the path and the World’s Pattern. She had felt nothing. There was resistance when she had tried to push against it, but there was no other sensation. No heat, no cold, it was neither rough nor smooth. She could not feel it at all.

She had never tried to touch it again.

And then they were out. The boundary to the real world slid from the front to the back and she breathed warm air, heavy with moisture and strongly scented with flowers. The sky wasn’t dark but it was clearly either dawn or late evening.

Now came the second test.

This time they were forced to throw out all the ropes and, as far as she could tell, there were men below to hold the tekrak, perhaps even tie it off. She could not hear Levin and was reluctant to reach out to Sheesha since she had no idea what was happening, as that might cause problems.

Yenteel came and stood in her field of view but faced away from her.

“It’s evening,” he said quietly. “Clearly a place that is much warmer than your island of Esternes. No telling what biting insects and other nasties they have here.” That was a cheering thought. “Levin is talking to the guards. They are cautious but relaxed, which is not surprising. After all, who would know to come here except someone who sides with the Dunor, and who would have one of these ridiculously huge plants except one sent out by the Dunor?”

She saw him turn his head towards the front. “Looks like they want to talk to Tenical. Gally they’ve already dismissed as being a dull-witted slave. Ulina caused some interest but a girl-child is no threat.” How little they knew. “Oh, and me. I must go and pretend to be another stupid slave.”

He moved out of her line of sight.

Moments later she heard the clatter of something banging against the side of the gondola and boots thumping up wooden steps. Armsmen peered over the side and then clambered on board. They glanced at her trussed up on the deck—Kantees realised she still had the blanket as a cushion for her head. Hopefully it would not matter.

They made crude comments about what they would like to do with her but their only action was to check she really was tied and gagged thoroughly. They were not gentle about it. Then they searched the gondola but did not find anything. Levin had the chilafrah.

Presently, Yenteel came back and the armsmen climbed back down to the ground.

“One small problem,” he said. “They insist on taking you off and putting you in their holding cells here at the ley-circle while the rest of us will stay in the gondola. They have a staging area set apart for tekrasa.”

Kantees wanted to ask what would be done to feed the ziri but it was impossible. There was more stomping on the steps and Levin climbed on board followed by four armsmen, one of them a sergeant.

“There she is,” he said. “She better not be hurt, and she’ll need untying.”

“You don’t need to tell me my job.”

“No damage, the Dunor need to understand what she does.”

“You said she’s not a patterner.”

Levin laughed harshly. “Can’t even read. But it doesn’t matter. She’s like an animal with a single power. What would you expect from a runaway Kadralin slave?”

Even though she knew Levin didn’t mean it, Kantees glared at him. There had been enough comments like that at Jakalain from the staff and soldiers to make it hurt.

“Looks like she wants your balls for soup,” said the sergeant.

“I caught her, and I get to take her to the Dunor.”

The sergeant nodded. “That’s been agreed, but our rules say anyone arriving late in the evening gets locked up until morning.”

“Well, you’d better get going with her, we need to get this beast tied down and feeding before it goes to sleep.”

The men picked her up easily, one at her head and the other her feet. The fact that an odd hand grabbed at her breast or between her legs went unnoticed to everyone else. Or ignored. They might have to leave her undamaged but that did not mean they couldn’t touch the merchandise.

They did not drop her on the way down the steps, though it felt precarious. There was a short walk to a stone building. Doors were unlocked and relocked. By the end of it she was lying on a pallet behind iron bars that occupied one wall. The rest of the walls were stone and there was a single window high up. No glass and also barred.

They did not untie her as Levin had requested. She squirmed to get comfortable and wondered what she would do when her personal needs became too strong.

Although they had hoped this would not happen, the thought that she might get separated had been included in their planning. But this was not something she was in control of, and the only thing she could do now was wait.

She tried to sleep.

28

Her cell was suddenly a great deal colder, and the light from Colimar made a barred red patch on the wall opposite where there had been none before.

The night time sounds of this place were unfamiliar. In Jakalain the winter nights were quiet except for the wind and rain. Summer beasts made more noise. While in Dakastown, as far as she could remember, it was the sea birds that dominated both day and night with their constant crying. And, when the wind was in the right direction, the constant rolling of the waves.

She could not hear the sea here, not above the cries, squawks and squeaks of unnumbered beasts, of a size it was impossible to estimate. Wherever they had been brought she knew they must be very far from Esternes.

But those had not been the sounds that awakened her.

“Kantees.”

A small high-pitched sound. Ulina.

“I am still tied,” Kantees tried to say but the gag muffled the words.

There was no further word from the child but the light of Colimar was blocked by a shadow as a piercing metallic sound sliced through the air. Kantees shivered, though whether it was the pitch of the sound grating against her skin, or the fear that they might be discovered, she was not sure. Perhaps both.

The sound went away and then restarted. Twice more until there was a crunch nearby. A small hand came down on Kantees’ wrist, there was the slightest pressure and the wrist bonds fell away. Moments later her ankles were free too.

Ulina did not rush her as Kantees pushed herself into a sitting position using her hands, which had lost all their senses. She didn’t dare attempt to walk yet. Kneeling beside Kantees, Ulina gently sliced through the cord of her gag. Kantees found even her tongue was numb.

As the circulation returned to her extremities pins and needles set in, then a dull aching pain.

“How much night remains?” Kantees asked.

“The guards have been long enough in their bunks to be well asleep but we have not lost much.”

Kantees nodded. Good. She stood up with care, her feet were recovering but she did not feel confident on them yet. She looked around the cell. It was big enough to house twenty men at a push. The window Ulina had come through was far enough off the floor to make it difficult to reach, but there was a rope dangling from the sawn-off bars.

While she was aware of the magical sharpness of Ulina’s little blade, it did not cease to astonish her how potent it truly was.

Imagine an arrow with a head that could pierce any hide? Or a sword so sharp no armour could withstand it? She shook her head. Perhaps it was as well such things did not exist except in stories.

“You go first, Ulina.” She gestured at the rope and the child scrambled up so fast there was time to only draw a single breath.

Kantees did not feel so confident but the rope was knotted to make foot and hand grips easier, and she was no weakling. So it may have taken a little longer, but she soon squeezed through the gap Ulina had made and let herself down the other side to land on a path of soft soil.

The red moon was still the only light and its glow painted the path with the colour of blood, and the leaves of the plants that grew all around were black. The night creatures were louder out here, the air filled with scents. Some were sweet like perfume, while others reminded her of Sheesha’s dung pile.

Ulina seemed confident about where she was going so Kantees just followed. Her extremities continued to regain their feeling and the prickling and pain subsided to a dull ache. She exercised her jaw, though it continued to feel as if the rope and the gag were still there.

They left the vicinity of the prison buildings, following first one path and then another between stands of tall black trees with dense shadowy undergrowth. Kantees smelled the zirichasa before she saw them. The paths Ulina had been following had been comfortably wide and lit by the red moon. Now she slipped away into the dark between the trees where it did not even look as if a real track existed.

Somewhere ahead a ziri snuffled. Relief spread through Kantees as she recognised Sheesha. She had not realised how bad it had been for her separated from him until that moment. It was as if a binding around her mind had been cut free. She reached out to him.

“Sheesha?” said Levin’s voice quietly. “What is it?”

The dark tunnel through the undergrowth disappeared behind, and Kantees stepped out into a paved forecourt backed by a stone-built building of two storeys. The ziri lay comfortably around the space, a fire highlighting their feathers. One long neck was raised and the head turned in her direction. Sheesha.

First one figure and then two more stood up by the fire. Levin, Yenteel and Gally. She assumed Tenical remained with the tekrak. She was glad about that; she did not fully trust him. This rescue was for her and the people who chose to accompany her. For Tenical it had always been the lesser of two evils, and the repayment of a life debt.

He might consider that paid in full now. He could always claim Kantees had coerced him.

She went to Sheesha and hugged his neck. She felt his head behind, crushing her inward. He was as pleased to see her as she him. She could have stayed there forever, but there were things that must be done.

After unwinding herself she stepped up to the fire.

“What do we know?”

Yenteel opened his mouth to speak when the sound of a bell ringing insistently broke through the night-time noises. It was quite far distant, but coming from the direction of the prison where Kantees had been held.

“It seems they may have discovered your escape,” said Yenteel.

Waileth, Looesa and Shingul woke up.

“Do we know where Daybian is being held?”

Levin took hold of her arm. “Let’s get mounted.”

“I need to know where to go.”

There were shouts in the distance, increasing in number and reflections of torchlight reflected on branches and leaves.

Levin drew breath. “There’s a castle further up the river.”

“How long to get there?”

“Not long.”

“Can we get in?”

“That’s why we’re here.”

Kantees closed her eyes. They were attacking a castle they did not know, in a land where they would find no succour. So be it.

“Let us fly.”

The sound of ziri wings pounding the air made her feel strong as they rose into the air. Around them the uproar was increasing, and as they gained altitude they could see the groups of armsmen crossing and criss-crossing the paths with their torches, looking for her. A larger group was making directly towards the building they had just left.

Kantees knew what she intended.

In the far distance, on a rise above a dark plain the castle stood ominously. Her heart pounded when she saw it; it resembled Jakalain in the shape and size of its walls. She did not know what that meant. She hoped it might mean the design was similar inside.

But that was not her immediate target. She wheeled Sheesha round and headed back the way they had come in. Shouts went up from below as their dark shadows went across the sky. Colimar might help them see in this blackest of night but it also meant they were visible to their foes. But that was the way she wanted it.

Kantees could feel the power of the ley-circle as they approached. She urged Sheesha faster and he obeyed. His wings pounded the air and the others strained to keep up.

She heard arrows whining through the sky.

Without warning, two monstrous black forms rose up ahead. Beneath them were two gondolas filled with armsmen clutching bows and aiming in their direction.

“Now, Sheesha!”

She did not know if they were close enough but she prayed it would be the way it had been at Kurvin Port.

It was.

Golden power enveloped them and the formation of ziri launched like an arrow into the dark. Somehow they avoided striking the tekrasa, and moments later were streaking at almost tree-top level away from the camp. And away from the castle.

Kantees could feel Sheesha’s power. He was drawing his energy from the ley-circle at least for now. They had not practised any complex manoeuvres while travelling at pattern speed but she needed them now. They could not afford to get too far from their target.

She instructed Sheesha to turn. As she expected, the effect was not immediate but he banked slowly and, as she saw with a quick glance, the others turned with them. The ziri made a wide arc in the sky, and though she tried to keep their height low she was desperately aware that the last thing they wanted was to run into a hill or a tree.

Peering through the golden curtain that surrounded them, she saw the distant hill with the castle. Perhaps twice as far as it had been, but since they had been moving for so little time they would be able to make it there before the alarm was properly raised.

With their course directly towards the massive building, Kantees allowed Sheesha to increase speed. The ground was close but because it was dark she barely saw anything as their golden lightning cut through the air.

She barely had time to think of how best to manage their approach before the castle was heading for them like a stone dropped from a cliff. She ordered Sheesha to slow. The glow faded shortly before they reached the walls. Kantees powered Sheesha up and over the main curtain wall. The inner wall was slightly taller, and there were armsmen rushing to their posts one way or the other.

“Yenteel, we need defences when we hit the ground!”

He said something but she could not make out what it was.

The design of the castle was similar to Jakalain and she could see the entrance to the cells. The main building had few lights but more than she was happy with. Armsmen were emerging from doors both in the courtyard and on the walls.

This would not be like Jakalain. Here they were the enemy and no quarter would be given.

And that was all the thought she had time for before the ziri came to a back-crunching landing on the flagstones.

29

K  antees almost threw Ulina off Sheesha’s neck and slipped down beside her.

“Kantees, let the ziri fight!” Levin’s voice penetrated the sudden quiet.

It took her a moment to realise he was making sense. Even though she was worried for their precious feathers. “Make sure they don’t get hurt,” she called back before rushing towards the door to the cells.

She passed Yenteel, who was busy with something from his backpack, though she didn’t recognise it. Gally followed her and came up behind as she reached the door. Ulina already had her little knife out and was cutting at the door lock.

“Ulina, just cut the wood around the hinges.” Kantees pointed to the other side of the door. At Jakalain there were bolts on the inside of the door, just cutting the lock would do no good.

“My knife is too short to go through all the wood.”

“Just do it, Ulina. Make it weak enough.”

She turned away from the door and looked out at the courtyard. It was hard to see clearly. The shapes of the ziri towered like monsters over the armsmen who had come out into the courtyard before they realised what was attacking them.

Every now and then a ziri head would dip like lightning and there would be a scream. In among them, she saw Levin moving back and forth. His sword flashed. More torches were coming alight behind the windows and she could even see shadows of people looking out. Here she was in the heart of the Dunor and all she was doing was rescuing her friend.

But he and Levin together would be able to warn the Taymalin of the threat they were under. Get Daybian away from here and she would have done her duty.

“Done,” said Ulina. Kantees turned to see Ulina jumping down from the wall beside the door. She laid her hand on Gally’s arm. “Break down the door, Gally.”

“Is that the good thing that must be done?”

“Daybian is most likely held in the cells.”

“Like me and Yenteel. Like you.”

“That’s right.”

Gally stared at the door for a moment and then threw his entire body at it. His shoulder crashed into it. The wood shrieked and splintered, then collapsed inward. It did not fall down but hinged on the lock side. Light spilt from inside, almost blinding her. Kantees knew surprise would prevent those inside acting immediately but even in the act of taking a breath she was slower than Ulina.

The girl was already inside. Kantees swore and followed even though she had no weapon, with Gally hard on her heels.

She burst into the room to see the first of Ulina’s new victims collapsing to his knees. She did not have time to take in what the girl had done as a brute of an armsman headed towards her with a short sword in his hand.

He was not armoured, and from what Kantees could see of a table and chairs knocked to the ground they were still preparing to fight. The man swung at her wildly. She ducked beneath the stroke and closed on him. After years of shovelling Sheesha’s shit, moving bales of hay and carcasses of meat, she was no weakling, but nor was she a match for an armsman.

But men had vulnerabilities. She flung her arms around him, smelling the stale beer that hung about him, and drove her knee between his legs. The contact was solid. He groaned, she felt his arms tense and he let out an agonised moan. The sword clattered to the ground. Kantees pushed back and away from him. She had no desire to kill him, she was not Ulina, but she grabbed up the sword. The hilt was slick with his sweat.

Something slammed into her back and knocked her breathless into the wall. She had no time to raise her arms and her face scraped the raw stone. Someone else cried out and she turned as Gally punched another of the armsmen in the gut. He folded and threw up.

Kantees wasn’t seeing clearly but she knew the small blur must be Ulina heading further into the cells. There was unlikely to be any active torture at this time, or so she imagined. Even torturers needed to sleep, didn’t they?

Keeping her hand against the wall for balance, Kantees followed Ulina further into the cells. If the design was the same as Jakalain it would have its confession area next and the main selection of cells beyond that. Barely ten strides brought her into the torture chamber with its vicious tools. There was no one here.

If they were going to put Daybian on the rack they would have done it as soon as he arrived, and that was—how long? She could not even remember, two ten-days? They would have either given up or he would be dead.

She prayed to the Mother he had survived.

“Gally! Fetch Yenteel, we may need him.”

There was a grunt from behind her.

Kantees wondered if Ulina’s little knife might cease to work if she kept using it to slice metal. Did patterns wear out? She had no idea, but Yenteel could open these locks, and even if he was not needed for that, his skill as a healer would be.

She passed through the empty room where even the brazier of hot coals provided only the slightest warmth, then moved further.

Ulina stood by one cell staring inside. Kantees hesitated. The child was a whirlwind, and yet here she stood still and simply looked. What could be so bad that it gave her pause? Kantees came up to her and put her hand on the child’s shoulder. She gathered her courage and looked through the bars.

At Daybian sleeping on his side with his head cushioned by his arm. As if there was nothing to concern him. His clothes were dirty, and a little ragged, but in the dim light he looked unharmed. The usual arrogant fool that he always was.

“Daybian,” she said quietly. He did not stir. Kantees lifted the short sword and poked it through the bars. She could reach his leg. She jabbed it. “Daybian!”

He jerked into wakefulness but disoriented. He rubbed his leg absently as he stared through the bars. His gaze slid from Kantees to Ulina and back to Kantees. Realisation hit him as if he had been doused with water. He jumped to his feet.

“Kantees, what are you doing? This is a trap for you!” Then he swayed and grabbed at the bars to steady himself. “Got up too fast.”

“How can it be a trap?” she said. “How could they know?”

“That thing you did at the Hamalain circle.”

There was a scream from outside. Yenteel came powering down the corridor. He stopped short as he saw Daybian standing there as if nothing was wrong.

“He looks fine.”

“Yes,” said Kantees. “Can you unlock the door?”

“You let her come,” said Daybian turning on Yenteel. “Why didn’t you stop her?”

Yenteel pulled a pouch from his pocket. But Ulina held up a bunch of keys.

“Better,” he said, and checked through them until he found one he liked and slipped it into the lock. It clicked open.

“We need to get out of here,” said Kantees.

“What army did you bring?” said Daybian as he stepped out, adjusting his tattered jacket as if it made any difference to the way he looked.

“No army,” said Kantees. “Just the ziri. Come on.” She turned away and jogged back up the corridor. Ulina scooted past her at a full run.

“Let me go first,” said Daybian as they reached the antechamber. The sounds of screeching ziri grew and faded. Air blew in from the outside and whistled round the room.

“You’re not even armed.”

Daybian grabbed a knife from one of the bodies. “I am now.”

Kantees put out a thought to Sheesha to collect them from the door. “Just wait, the ziri will be here in a moment.” Right on cue Sheesha’s massive head poked in.

Daybian looked at the four of them. “Did you get another ziri?”

“Yes, but it’s got a rider. You take Shingul. Yenteel and Gally ride Looesa together again. Now, go!”

They tumbled outside into a maelstrom of wind that ripped across the courtyard, churning up debris and hurling it at the walls. The constant roar tore any words from their throats. The ziri were waiting to be mounted. Kantees caught sight of Levin pounding across the courtyard towards them. He looked as if he was shouting at them but Kantees could hear nothing but the wind.

Looking up she saw armsmen clinging to the parapet, unable to let go and use their bows. She knew Yenteel was not a great patterner and could not imagine where he had conjured this from—if it was him at all.

Then, without the slightest slackening, it was gone. The silence was deafening. Pieces of wood clattered to the ground. “Mount up!” she commanded. She was glad to see Daybian willing to leave and he was on Shingul’s back in a moment. At least he was happy enough riding bareback.

It took Levin slightly longer to get ready. There were shouts from above, and the armsmen in the courtyard—realising finally that the storm was gone—were heading towards them at a run.

Kantees delayed as long as she dared, but when the first arrow shattered on the stones beside her she drove Sheesha and the others into the air. She knew she was too far from the ley-circle to launch the ziri to pattern speed but she took them up as fast as she could. They passed the parapet and she kept going up.

As soon as they were beyond bowshot range she turned the ziri back towards the ley-circle.

“Yenteel, do you have any idea where we are?”

“Based on the positions of the stars, the temperature and the change in time, somewhere off the southern coast of Karane. Closer to Mirriasmia than anywhere else, but not that much. Hundreds of leagues, I think.”

Mirriasmia? She knew of it, she’d heard of the Thousand Mouths. She doubted they would regain access to the ley-circle and persuade anyone to make a path before they were overcome by the forces of the Dunor.

Which left them with only one option: they must fly until they could find another ley-circle and patterners to take them home. But they must pick up Tenical first.

She did not push the ziri. It was going to be bad enough, later, trying to fly across an expanse of ocean where they had no idea how long it would take.

They flew on towards the ley-circle. Tenical should be there. If they could not pick him up he was going to try to get back to Esternes where he could disappear. Even if he was completely honest with the Dunor, the chances were they would torture him to ensure he was not lying. It was not an idea that appealed to him.

Kantees hoped he would be there, she did not relish waiting and searching for him when this entire place was trying to kill them. Lostimal was rising and its white light drowned out Colimar’s red. Bright fires appeared and disappeared ahead of them, and it took Kantees a moment to realise: the air between them and the ley-circle was filling with tekrasa, dozens of them.

Sheesha and the other ziri angled upwards. They could easily outmanoeuvre the flying plants, but there were so many of them it was going to be difficult to avoid them all. Some of the masters of those tekrasa had realised her intentions already and were gaining height.

Kantees let the ziri slow even further and closed up the formation.

“Levin, you need to break free. We’ll keep these plants busy while you pick up Tenical.”

“Levin?” said Daybian. “Otulain?”

“Greetings, Jakalain. You are now thoroughly indebted to me for rescuing you.”

“Is that your poor old Waileth?”

“My excellent beauty is as good as Shingul, sausage brain.”

“Will you two stop?” shouted Kantees. “You can do this after we’ve escaped.”

Levin gave her a bow, as best he could strapped into the saddle. “I will rendezvous with Tenical as we discussed.” There was a pause and Sheesha shuddered as Waileth broke formation. The other two changed positions.

“What’s going on?” said Daybian, perhaps realising that he was not in control of his mount.

“It would take too long to explain,” said Kantees. “For now, just hold on tight. This is not going to be easy.”

30

T  he white light of Colimar glistened on the edges of the leaves and veins that made up the tekrasa; even at night the deep green shone like a forest.

Among some of the gondolas she could see fires being lit. They would be for the fire arrows. There was no way the creatures could hope to match the speed or manoeuvrability of the ziri but they were pushing into positions surrounding the ley-circle, probably to protect it.

If any ziri attempted to land there, or anyone tried to create a patterner’s path, the archers could rain death upon them. Unfortunately, that had been part of the plan to pick up Tenical. They had hoped—though it had been very unlikely—that they would rescue Daybian without setting off an alarm. In that event they hoped to escape the way they had come in.

Tenical would know they had been unsuccessful and now simply waited to be picked up. Though seeing the wall of tekrasa, would his courage hold? Or would he attempt to escape on his own?

There was no longer any time to think. Kantees launched Sheesha and the others in a long arc that spiralled in towards the ley-circle. She kept an eye open for arrows and it was not until they had reached the far side of the protection wall that the first ones buzzed about them. The accuracy was not good, but if hundreds were fired in their direction, some would strike.

In a moment, she ordered Sheesha to turn directly towards the ley-circle and dive.

The patterners controlling the tekrasa must have received training because they had formed a pattern in the air. It gave Kantees the impression of a reed basket, where each plant represented a crossing point of the woven threads.

It meant there were wide gaps between them, but all directions were covered and the gaps were all the same size.

The ziri swooped low and fast across the treetops then slipped through one of the gaps. There were tekrasa to the left and right of them and one directly above. Only trees below. The buzz of arrows increased and then cut off.

The bulk of the tekrak passed overhead and they emerged into the interior of the tekrak “basket”. Kantees at once realised her mistake. Suddenly they could see every gondola hanging from every tekrak that formed the structure. And that meant every archer could see them and they were a target.

With horror, she realised that Levin would stand no chance if he dared enter this killing space.

Kantees wanted to use the power she felt tugging at her from the ley-circle but that would mean revealing her hand too soon. The air filled with the thrum of bowstrings. Before the storm of arrows arrived, she turned Sheesha almost on his tail, praying to the Mother that the others would follow fast.

She dived below the tree line and between the trunks so the leaves would hide them. Sheesha threaded his way through the trees like an embroidery needle. She heard ripping sounds as arrows tore through the treetops, as well as the occasional thunk as one buried its point in something more solid. She held her breath against the sound of a ziri in pain but nothing came. They burst from the trees and launched upwards, with only a small fraction of the archers able to track and fire at them now.

Kantees acknowledged the skill of whoever it was that had conceived the killing basket. And then she imagined it being deployed around a castle of the Taymalin. They would be able to bring it to its knees in just a few days. No place open to the air would be safe, and if they had anything more potent than archers they might even breach the inner walls without needing a ground force.

The thought was terrifying. Clearly the Dunor were ready to move and she was providing them with an opportunity to test themselves against a real opponent.

She turned the formation and followed the perimeter just out of arrow range as she studied the tekrasa. The ones higher up kept igniting their fire-tubes. The wind was probably stronger up there and they had to adjust their position.

A tekrak was not designed for manoeuvrability. All it did, when left alone, was launch itself into the air in the morning and follow its path across the sky with the others. She knew it was able to adjust the direction of its fire-tube a little, just enough to change course when it needed to—though how it knew what to do was anybody’s guess.

Even when it was being used to carry people in its gondola, the way Tenical had been using it, there was still a single direction to fly throughout the day with very few changes in course.

What these men were trying to do with them was against their nature. Forcing them to fly at night, making them hold a position with delicate adjustments.

Kantees shook her head. This was not what tekrasa did, it didn’t matter how huge they were. This was breaking their patterns.

Kantees sighed. Their tekrasa formation must be disrupted and she suspected there was only one way to do it. It did not appeal.

She whispered to Ulina as she turned the ziri in for another attack. But this time she had a plan.

Under Kantees’ instruction, Sheesha turned in towards the ley-circle once more. He dived to follow a road that provided partial tree cover as Kantees tried something new. With an effort she pictured the ziri flying one behind the other. She could feel the resistance but then something changed and they altered their positions, with Shingul to the rear.

There were armsmen on the road but they fled or dived for cover as the massive zirichasa streaked between the trees. As they flew under the lowest tekrak, Sheesha launched into an almost vertical climb with Kantees hanging on desperately. Ulina lay against her chest. They flashed past the gondola and then the body of the tekrak. Ulina stood up with her feet on Kantees’ stomach and launched herself into space. Kantees stared in horror as the child disappeared into the dark.

Sheesha turned in the air and flattened his course, taking him towards and under the next gondola in the pattern.

If only they had been well-equipped with weapons, thought Kantees, they could have given these tekrak something to think about.

The rain of arrows did not materialise, as she had suspected, but staying close to the tekrasa the armsmen were reluctant to fire in case they struck their compatriots.

Sheesha turned away and out of the tekrasa pattern. Kantees looked back to see the one nearest the ground looking very wrong. The gondola was lopsided and hanging down while the tekrak was pointing upwards. The fire-tube burst into life.

Ulina had cut the ropes at one end. They had been in such a rush to get the creatures into the air they had not bound the roots properly. It took time to weave the patterns properly, Tenical had always complained about it when she tried to rush him.

Then the gondola simply fell away and Kantees could see the roots writhing. Something must have interrupted the patterner—perhaps just the fact that he was in danger of falling. The gondola crashed through the trees and flames licked up from the on-board fire.

Released of its burden, and the patterner’s control, the free tekrak shot upwards and struck the gondola of the one above, knocking it to the side and forcing it to roll. Taken unawares, men fell. But Kantees did not miss the tiny figure leaping into space just before it struck and landing on the top of the next beast over.

Kantees brought the ziri round. It would not take the armsmen long to see where the trouble was coming from, but Kantees was happy to let Ulina remove another one.

The first tekrak, perhaps in reaction to what it must consider to be danger, ignited its fire-tube and launched itself across the centre of the tekrak basket formation, the roots on the one it had struck were closing up. The upper structure of the gondola snapped and broke. This one fell much further and Kantees heard the screams of the men.

She closed on the one Ulina was now attacking. Once more Ulina sliced away the ropes and the gondola swayed dangerously. Kantees brought the ziri in close, expecting a wave of arrows, but the armsmen were either staring at the crashing gondolas or looking in terror at their own that was behaving as if it might go the same way.

Ulina threw herself off the top of the tekrak as Sheesha flew below. Kantees caught her and dropped her into her sitting position.

“Stay on course,” shouted Daybian.

Kantees glanced back at him and saw him hefting the short sword he’d picked up. His eyes were fixed on the front of the tekrak. She nodded, though he was not looking. Kantees ensured Sheesha maintained his course and she watched as the sword arced through the air.

It did not spear the patterner, but the hilt struck him hard on the back. A shudder went through the tekrak as he lost his concentration.

Sheesha dived away to the right and the others followed. Moments later the third gondola broke free and crashed earthward. Three tekrak burned their fire-tubes across the ley-circle towards the wall of attackers on the other side.

Kantees, however, watched a ziri flying low and slow along the ground close to the ley-circle. It stopped and a man ran from the bushes. He climbed aboard and the ziri turned to make its way towards the gap they had broken in the wall.

On the far side, the tekrasa still under control had broken ranks to get out of the way of the freed plants burning towards them.

Waileth climbed to join them, beating her wings hard with the additional weight.

“Do you know which way we need to be heading, Yenteel?” Kantees called.

He pointed in a direction that was close to the ley-circle. Good enough.

Kantees felt Waileth rejoin the formation and they adjusted into a diamond shape. Kantees took them up a short distance and then turned towards the ley-circle. This would still be dangerous, as there were plenty of tekrak with armsmen who had not panicked, but nothing as bad as it might have been.

“Here we go!”

The ziri formation dived as one. Their wings pounded the air, building their speed. As they flashed into the gap made by Ulina, Kantees reached out to feel the power of the ley-circle.

“Now, sweetheart,” she said gently to Sheesha. “Let us go very fast and very far indeed.”

Instantly they were wrapped in a velvet envelope of gold. In a fraction of a heartbeat they burst through the other side of the tekrak wall. Kantees turned them upwards and they mounted the sky in a single breath.

The silver world lit by Lostimal was stained gold. Rivers reflected moonlight and flickered below them. Perhaps the place they had been brought to was not an island, but in their northward flight the ocean was not far.

Kantees adjusted their course closer to the direction Yenteel had indicated as they flew far and fast from the Dunor.

~ End of Book 2 ~

AFTERWORD

If you enjoyed OUTLAW DRAGON, why not write a review on the site you bought it at, or on Goodreads (even both).

The story of Kantees continues in HERETIC DRAGON (taupress.com/heretic-dragon),

or you can buy all the books in one volume: THE DRAGONS OF ESTERNES (taupress.com/esternes-dragons).

Table of Contents

Title Page

Contents

Copyright

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Afterword