Lost Truth by Dawn Cook
“Not just your bells,” he said softly as he pulled her ring out of a pocket.
“My ring!” she cried, then looked to see if Yar-Taw had heard. “Oh, Strell,” she said, her voice shaking as he strung it on her hair ribbon and put it around her neck. “Thank you. I thought I had lost it.”
Strell gave her a quick squeeze, releasing her before Beast could take offense. “I went to find it right after making you something to eat yesterday. I would have gone sooner, but I couldn’t leave you. Not until Talo-Toecan was with you and I knew you would be all right.”
“Ashes,” she breathed, her eyes bright with tears. “Thank you.”
He said nothing, dabbing at her eyes with the hem of his sleeve. “Not a word,” he said as he turned her to the railing and the upwelling noise of the rowboat’s arrival. “We should tell Talo-Toecan what we did before we tell anyone else.”
She glanced at Redal-Stan’s watch hanging about his neck like a pendant. Nodding, she tucked her bells into her pocket to put about her ankle later. Her heart clenched as she looked to the rigging for Talon, but then she pushed her heartache away. She missed her, or him, or both.
“Alissa!” Silla cried as her ribbon-strewn head appeared over the railing. Strell offered the young woman a hand, and she found the deck safely. “How did you get out here before me?”
“I’ve been here since sunup,” she said, returning the young woman’s impromptu hug.
“Eager to get home?”
“I suppose.” Alissa glanced at Strell. It would be nice to find a new pattern of days.
Connen-Neute was next, fidgeting as he took up an uneasy position beside Silla. “We’re going to make the trip entirely by boat,” he said as if expecting them to protest.
“Really?” Alissa glanced between them, wondering. “I’d have thought you would fly ahead with the rest.”
Lodesh’s fair head rose above the railing. “No,” he said, answering her question. Smiling impishly, he vaulted over the railing to find the deck with a dancer’s grace. “Captain Sholan needs a crew, so Connen-Neute volunteered to make the trip with us humans.”
Alissa glanced at Silla. The young woman’s influence was obvious. She wasn’t strong enough to make the journey by wing. “Well,” Alissa offered. “It isn’t as if they’re going to make the trip in one go either. That’s why we’re leaving now: to give them a place to rest halfway there.”
Connen-Neute smiled at Alissa gratefully. Silla shifted a touch closer to him, and the rims of his ears reddened. Oblivious to Connen-Neute’s fluster, Silla put her hand on his shoulder to balance herself as she leaned over the railing to see Hayden struggling with the packs in the dinghy. “And Neugwin said I shouldn’t see the Hold until they have a chance to put it in order,” Silla said, her eyes on the waves slapping the boat.
Lodesh grinned. “I’m sure she’ll drag all the furniture out of the annexes,” he said.
“And restock the pantry,” Strell said.
“And weed the gardens . . .” Alissa moaned, glad she was going the long way.
“And she’ll probably want the rugs freshly beaten, too,” Connen-Neute added sourly, causing Alissa to wonder how much of his desire to crew was to avoid a spring-cleaning.
As one, they sighed, clearly smug in having nothing to do for the next few weeks but haul on ropes and take direction from a sullen captain instead of a demanding teacher.
The cold shadow of wings covered them, and Alissa squinted up to see Useless spiraling about the boat in wide circles. The captain’s gaze rose from his discussion with Yar-Taw. “I said no landin’ on my boat!” he shouted. Alissa held her broken hand against her chest in alarm as Useless back-winged, miraculously missing the rigging. He vanished into mist a good two man lengths above the deck, dropping to land in a comfortable-looking crouch as a man.
“Ashes,” she whispered, and Connen-Neute made a small sound of agreement.
“You haven’t seen the half of what he can do,” the young Master said as he edged to make room for him in their circle. Captain Sholan grimaced and turned back to Yar-Taw, gesturing at the barrels of water and demanding six more.
“Come to say good-bye?” Lodesh said, squinting at Useless past the rim of his hat.
“No.” Useless tightened his black sash. “One flight across the ocean is enough. I’m taking up Captain Sholan’s offer to serve as crew. Besides,” he grumbled, “if I go with the rest of them, Neugwin will have me putting new slates on the roof before the end of the month.”
Alissa’s first feeling of delight hesitated. Useless as crew? She glanced worriedly at Silla. Seeing their disbelieving looks, Useless frowned. “Masters can see the wind, Alissa. It flows over a sail exactly as it flows over wing canvas.” He harrumphed. “I can lift a sail and navigate a straight tack better than our good captain. And someone has to keep an eye on you.”
She smiled at that. Her pack came arching over the railing, followed shortly by a substantial basket of dried fruit. Hayden’s head poked above the railing, his brow furrowed for having to unload the rowboat by himself, no doubt. He scowled at Lodesh and Strell, then shouted across the deck, “Hoy, Captain! Where do Alissa and the piper’s things get stowed?”
Busy with Yar-Taw, the captain didn’t look up. “Put them in the bow bunk!” he exclaimed. “I don’t want to listen to them carryin’ on when I’m on night watch. If I had wanted to be a nuptial boat, I would’a painted her white. Damn fool business this is.”
His grumblings tapered off into half-heard complaints. Alissa froze. They had forgotten to tell the captain to keep quiet. Eyes wide, she held her breath, afraid to look up as Useless took a hasty breath. “Alissa?” he drawled.
Licking her lips, she glanced up at him and away. She couldn’t look at Lodesh, but his boots weren’t moving. Wincing, she fidgeted with the hem of her sling. “Uh . . .”
Silla took her hand and pulled Alissa to face her. “You didn’t!” the young woman cried, her eyes alight with mischief and delight.
“We did,” Strell said, and Alissa looked up in relief as he moved to stand beside her. He very carefully put a slow arm about her waist and pulled her close.
Beast snapped awake. “You touch him,” Alissa threatened, “and I will keep us out of the sky for the entirety of the trip.” Beast restrained herself with soft mutterings.
Yar-Taw stormed across the deck. “We forbade it!” he shouted, then glanced at Useless as if remembering he wasn’t the ranking male Master anymore.
Guilt, and perhaps shame, kept Alissa from looking at Useless. She couldn’t bear his disapproval. Besides, it had been done four ways from springtime and couldn’t be reversed. Useless straightened, and she cringed. Here it comes, she thought to herself.
“Well, that’s where you made your first mistake,” Useless said, and she jerked her attention up at the wry humor in his voice. “Telling Alissa she can’t do something will insure she will do nothing but that.” He smiled, his white eyebrows arched. “Nautical vows?” he said dryly, glancing at the captain as he came to direct Hayden where to put the rest of the cargo.
“Took Hayden two days to get the sand off the deck,” the captain grumbled as he passed them. “I warned him. I warn them all. But they never listen. Never,” he said, his voice going faint as he stomped to his quarters with a small, carefully wrapped package.
“Coastal,” Strell said, his voice even and calm as he took a firm stance. “We also exchanged vows from the plains, foothills, and those of the Hold, too.”
“Got them all, eh?” Useless cocked his head as he looked at her and Strell’s rings with a new understanding. Alissa wondered at his attitude. She had thought he would be furious. She was surprised to find Lodesh grinning as if it were a grand jest as well. Her eyes narrowed. Somehow Lodesh knew they hadn’t been able to consummate their marriage, and his amusement irritated her, vastly overshadowing her embarrassment.
“You couldn’t exchange raku vows,” Yar-Taw said. His face was red, and
A half smile came over Strell. “I made a sphere of light. It was made of glass and glowed with burning oil, but Connen-Neute seemed to think it was sufficient.”
Yar-Taw’s eyes narrowed. “Wolves take it. A witness,” he muttered, giving Connen-Neute a dark look. “The marriage can’t stand,” Yar-Taw said. “The vows should be annulled.”
“Annulled!” Alissa cried, suddenly afraid. “You can’t! It’s done!”
“He has no tracings,” Yar-Taw asserted. “That’s why we forbade it in the first place.”
Useless reached out, and Alissa jumped as he put a long hand on her shoulder. “What do you care what she does?” he intoned, the amusement in his voice replaced by a dark threat. “You already let Keribdis kill her once. I’d say that removes any claim the Hold might ever have had on her. She deserves a fifty-year sabbatical at least for that. Besides, as my student, she doesn’t need anyone’s permission but mine.”
“But—” Yar-Taw stammered.
“All I need to know,” Useless said as he turned to Strell, “is what, under the ash-ridden moon, you think gave you the right to marry her, Piper.”
Strell grinned. He confidently ran a finger under the ribbon Alissa’s wedding ring was laced upon, and Useless’s eyes crinkled as if in pain. “Her mother’s?” Useless asked, and Strell nodded. “I had forgotten about that,” Useless added, his voice strained. “Fine. Providing you can consummate the marriage within the year, the vows stand.” Ignoring Yar-Taw’s protests, he gave her a wry look. Alissa felt a stab of worry. Had he talked to Lodesh or come to the same conclusion by himself that they were having trouble?
“Year?” Silla whispered, looking up at Connen-Neute in confusion.
“I’ll tell you later,” Connen-Neute said, the rims of his ears reddening.
Still, Yar-Taw shook his head. “Talo-Toecan,” he persisted. “He’s not a Master. He’s hardly a commoner. He won’t live but a few decades more. What kind of a life is that?”
Alissa tensed, dismayed that her private heartache be displayed so blatantly. Useless’s grip on her shoulder tightened. It wasn’t fair, she thought. But if a few decades were all she had, then a few decades was what she would take. She’d deal with the pain later. She wouldn’t let it spoil her time with Strell. Still, her throat tightened, and she blinked to keep the tears from showing.
“She is my student! She has my permission!” Useless exclaimed, as if reaching his limit. Alissa blinked, shocked out of her misery. “He can read our script,” Useless continued. “Trace his lineage back to the Warden line. He knows our secrets, including how a Master can come from a human, and he rescued me from the holden while you were on an ash-ridden holiday. We had better give him something to keep his mouth shut or kill him.”
Alissa gasped, and Useless added, “And none of you are laying a thought on my musician.” He held Yar-Taw’s gaze, his eyes fiercely determined. Alissa shivered, feeling the force behind his stare, glad he wasn’t looking at her. “I suggest we install Strell Hirdune as the Warden of Ese’ Nawoer,” Useless added. “Give him a visible show of his status.”
There was a heartbeat of silence. Alissa’s mouth dropped open. She looked first to Strell—who appeared as shocked as she was—then to Lodesh. The elegantly dressed Keeper slowly backed away. His face was utterly blank. Not looking at anyone, he spun on a slow heel and vanished belowdecks. Her breath caught in dismay. They couldn’t do that to Lodesh. It was all he had left.
“No,” she said, pulling the hair from her face. “Lodesh is the Warden. I don’t care that you struck the title from him. Lodesh is the Warden.” But her protests went unheard.
Strell took her elbow as Yar-Taw began talking in persuasive, pleading tones. Other rakus were flying in from all over the island. It looked like an impromptu meeting was going to take place. “Don’t worry,” Strell whispered. “They won’t make me the Warden. I don’t want it, and I’d make a poor leader for a city of ghosts, even if I do see them now in my sleep.” He shuddered, trying to disguise it as he moved her to the back of the boat. “I think Talo-Toecan is asking for the stars so they will be satisfied to give him the moon. There isn’t even a city anymore. The Warden position is only a bargaining point.”
Alissa’s steps were slow and reluctant as Strell led her away. She glanced behind them, unsure if they should be leaving. Useless gave her a slow smile over his shoulder, then turned back as the Masters began landing in the water to cluster before the Albatross like ducklings about their mother. He stood at the railing as if it were a pulpit, his hands raised in placation and his voice soothing. Silla and Connen-Neute stood beside him. They looked happy and content, fully cognizant they were in a position where their opinions would be heard despite their youth.
Alissa leaned back against the railing of the boat as her feeling of unease built. “We met his stipulations,” she said slowly. “But he gave in awfully easily.” She squinted at Strell. “I thought he would be more angry than that.”
Smiling, Strell tucked a strand of hair from her eyes. “I think he wants you to have a little joy, Alissa. You never really had a raku childhood. Perhaps that’s how he’s looking at it.”
She frowned. “I don’t like the idea they think of this as a spring love, a piddling dalliance until I—I grow up!” she finished fiercely.
His smile was sad. “It’s not a dalliance to me, Alissa. It’s a lifetime. You will never grow old to me, always as beautiful as you are today. How could I be that lucky?”
She could say nothing. Miserable, she turned back to the water. And all of this hinged on whether they could teach Beast what love meant.
Strell sighed as he turned with her. “So, Alissa,” he said as he pulled her closer. “Which side of the bed do you want?”
“The side that you’re on,” she whispered, wiping the last of her tears away.
39
Talo-Toecan’s eyes were closed as he held the wheel. The sun was well down, and not even the light of the moon stained the back of his eyelids. Standing on the deck of the Albatross with the water thrumming under his feet and the wind doing the same in the sails, he felt the peace instilled by the forces running through him. Motion. He liked to be in motion. And this blending of wind and wave was intriguing, especially at night. Flying only used one elemental force. Sailing used two. It added a delightful sensation to the mix.
But while the boat made a connection between the two dissimilar forces, it also added a large measure of restraint upon his direction. Perhaps he might take a decade or two to study it further, somehow find a way to use the wind and water to a greater extent. It might be only a different cut of sail or arc of hull that would increase the span of direction or speed.
His eyes opened at the thought that Alissa was much like the Albatross. She, too, had forged a connection between two dissimilar forces: the feral and the sane. Her range of motion was greater than theirs, and she was able to do much that they couldn’t. He wondered if it would ultimately be worth the risk.
A wry smile came over him as Strell and Alissa excused themselves from Connen-Neute’s late dice game. He didn’t watch as they headed down the fore hatch together. He couldn’t bring himself to. The boat was too small for his liking. Especially at night.
Actually, he mused as the sound of their voices grew muffled and vanished, Alissa had only exchanged one set of problems for another. Having a feral consciousness too close apparently had a drawback—or two.
A faint tug of unease pulled his gaze to Lodesh, standing at the railing and staring at nothing. The Keeper seemed accepting of Alissa’s choice, saying, when Talo-Toecan questioned him, that he believed because Strell and Alissa would never be able to maintain a true marital relationship, she would ultimately turn to him. But it still had to be difficult.
Talo-Toecan looked from Lodesh’s hunched back to Connen-Neute. The young Master had put his dice away to f
A small scuff at the hatch behind Talo-Toecan drew his attention over his shoulder. “Captain,” he said shortly, taking a firmer stance at the wheel.
“Master Talo-Toecan,” Captain Sholan responded as he stood beside him. The man followed Talo-Toecan’s gaze up to the night-lost top of the mast. “You sail a straight tack,” the man said. “Do you have any nephews who need a profession?”
Talo-Toecan smiled, releasing the wheel and taking several steps to the side as the captain reached for it. “Only Connen-Neute, and his path is already charted.”
Captain Sholan grunted, settling himself into a relaxed tautness as he gripped the wheel. The wind held steady, but Talo-Toecan felt the boat slow under the captain’s touch. He looked up at the mast again, estimating his chances of tangling the rigging if he jumped from the top.
“Leaving?” the captain said sourly, apparently having guessed why Talo-Toecan was eyeing the sails. “Be back by sunrise, or I dock your pay, same as if you’re too drunk to crew.”
A smile came over Talo-Toecan. He hadn’t been under anyone’s constraints for five centuries. Real or imagined. “I have to finish something,” he said softly. “We’re far enough away that—” He hesitated. “I wanted to be far enough away that not even Alissa could hear an echo. This isn’t her argument to finish. She’d try to convince me to let sleeping rakus lie, and I can’t do that anymore. Keribdis is my wife. I should be the one to do it.”
“Aye,” the captain said, his gaze on the bow where Alissa and Strell had gone. “I know about unhappy wives. I think those two will have better luck than we had, eh? They seem to have a knack for it. Bringing out the best in each other, I mean.” He sighed, and Talo-Toecan realized that though their weaker kin had a shorter span, they loved as deeply. Perhaps more so.