Sigquaya

  The water was rushing at us from both sides now, pounding relentlessly.

  I have no idea how he did it, but Marshaan gave a mighty roar and threw me up onto the ledge toward Telluras. I hit the wall and stumbled, rolling and turning. And I ran headlong into Telluras.

  Telluras stumbled to the side, losing his footing. With a cry he let go of Marshaan, tossing the torch and flailing his free hand as he began to fall into the roaring Waters.

  I reached out, clawing at his arm, his elbow, his hand. His eyes were wide in terror.

  Then all went black as our last torch tumbled into the rivers and my hand grasped nothing but water.

  17

  Heresy and Sacrilege

  The Gildrom pool continued to rise.

  Rhiana’s eyes darted from the water, to the Elder, to the darkened passage behind her.

  “Don’t bother running, Rhiana,” he said.

  Just then, Rhiana heard the padding of footsteps behind her. She turned as the Elder’s assistant came into the dim torchlight, eyeing her, then passing and whispering something to the Elder. Then he stepped back, behind the Elder, his hands clasped at his waist and his eyes fixed on Rhiana. Torchlight danced across his face, and she couldn’t tell whether the look he had for her held accusation or . . . empathy.

  “Doronaeus informs me that the guards were able to find your daughter as well, after her little display out there.”

  Rhiana gasped; her shock echoed down the silence behind her.

  “Yes, we knew you were there,” the Elder confirmed. “And you will be reunited with her in due time. But for now, please”—his hand swept the length of the ledge where he stood—“join me.”

  Rhiana was riveted to the spot. The fiery tingling in her hands and the throbbing of her head returned. She was trapped. She couldn’t run. She couldn’t hide. She couldn’t help her daughter, wherever she was.

  Oh gods, Arteura, I’m so—

  With a sweep of his other hand, the Elder shot a column of water directly at Rhiana’s chest, hitting her hard and plastering her against the unyielding cave wall. Doronaeus barely dove out of the way. Rhiana cried out as the water soaked her, pounding her against the hard stone and bruising her chest, head, and back. She cried out, gasping for breath.

  As the shaft of water relented, she dropped to her knees, panting.

  “Now, Rhiana!” the Elder seethed.

  Slowly, painfully, she rose and shuffled her way to the far side of the Gildrom pool in a mixture of fury and fear. As she drew closer, the fire in her extremities intensified, and the throbbing in her skull was like a painful kettle drum. She shivered, both from the soaking cold and from the stark reality: the Elder was a master of Sigquaya. He was Ma’wan.

  “You’re familiar with this magic, no?” he asked, casually rolling a large drop of water along his fingers like an Imperial coin.

  Rhiana simply stared at the small ball of water flitting between the Elder’s bony fingers.

  “I asked you a question, Rhiana,” the Elder said, his tone even but his patience strained.

  She slowly nodded.

  “You have this magic yourself, yes?”

  Her eyes widened, and she shook her head violently.

  “Oh, come now,” the Elder said. “Don’t be modest. I can sense it within you. Just as I’m sure you can sense it within me.” He extended his hand, the one with the rolling droplet. “Does this frighten you?”

  She looked at him. She was still shivering, but this was now all terror.

  He held her gaze a moment then turned back to the Gildrom pool, flicking the waterdrop aside with a casual plop. “Isn’t this what you wanted to see? What you wanted to know?”

  She flexed her fingers to relieve the pain and winced with each beat of the drum inside her skull. She shook her head again.

  “STOP LYING!” the Elder roared.

  She flinched and scrambled back. Loose pebbles skittered beneath her feet, and she stumbled and fell to the hard stone floor.

  The Elder glowered over her with an impatient sneer.

  From the floor, she asked hoarsely, “What have you done with my daughter?”

  “As I said,” he answered evenly, “you will be reunited with her soon enough. And in answer to your question, we will do with her what we do with all treasonish heretics. What we will do with you, as a matter of fact.”

  “T-treason?” She choked.

  “Yes, of course,” he answered with an indifferent shrug. “You were trying to put a stop to this sacred ritual, were you not?”

  “N-no,” she breathed. “I—”

  “STOP,” he bellowed, then calmed himself. “Stop. Lying.”

  She clutched at the stone wall, raising herself to her knees. “Wha-what are you going to do to me? To us?”

  He answered as if it were the most obvious of explanations. “Why, you will be tried, of course,” he said. “It is only fair of all such accused enemies of the Empire. You will be tried. You will be found guilty. And you will be publicly, and quite rightfully, executed.”

  Panic rose, and Rhiana fought to breathe. Her mouth moved, but words would not come.

  “As will your daughter, Rhiana,” the Elder went on. “You have apparently been a very bad influence on her. She even attempted to use Sigquaya on our poor, unsuspecting guards.” He marveled. “How she even found water out there is beyond me, but that is beside the point.”

  “How do you know that she—”

  “Because I sensed it, of course. Didn’t you?”

  He waved her off before she could answer. “But the point is,” he continued, “where would she get such a misguided, horrid idea? I mean, Sigquaya is meant only for healing. For nurturing and life.”

  From her hands and knees, she spat through gritted teeth, “You! You wield it for evil!”

  The Elder mockingly flinched back in horror. “The good of the community? The favor of the gods? Evil?! No, no, no, Rhiana, I think not. I am merely a humble servant trying to help our people.”

  Every joint in her body ached. Still, she clenched her jaw and tried to stand.

  “YOU SHALL KNEEL BEFORE BRYNEWIELM!” the Elder roared, shoving his foot into her stomach and forcing her back down. She landed with an oof and stayed there, cowed.

  “Enough of this!” the Elder growled. “You are a heathen bitch, Rhiana Denaeus! And you will die. As will your daughter. As did your son. This Denaeus name has been a stain on the Empire long enough!” Then he stopped as a thought struck him. “You have another son, do you not?”

  “Oh gods!” she squeaked, daring not to look him in the face.

  “Oh,” the Elder sneered. “So now you pray.” He shook his head in disgust. “Be that as it may, do you love this other son? Marcus, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Do you wish him to live?”

  “Yes.” She nodded.

  “Then all seems obvious,” he said. His hand swept to the clearly agitated Doronaeus as he said, “You and your daughter, before witnesses, came here trying to stop this highly sacred ritual. You have committed sacrilege and treason. You also wield Sigquaya, as does your daughter. Therefore, you are also heretics, Rhiana Denaeus. You are Ma’wan.”

  He crouched down beside her, inches from her face. “You both will stand trial before the Council and the Rectors.” He leaned even closer. “And you will be found guilty.” He was nearly touching her nose with his own. “And you both shall die.”

  Then, he stood. He grasped her chin as he did so, and tugged. “Rise.”

  With effort, she did.

  He glanced at the now-full pool. “My work here is done anyway.” He reached for one of the torches hanging in a nearby sconce. He held it and pushed its fiery tip toward Rhiana. “Move.”

  Rhiana inched around the pool and by the Elder’s assistant. She could clearly see Doronaeus’s face now as she passed. His jaw was set in determination, yet there was no accusation in his eyes. Just a fleeting moment’s empathy bef
ore he quickly looked away, banishing it and falling in step beside his master behind her.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asked over her shoulder.

  “I am a man of my word,” the Elder answered. “You are going to be joining your daughter. At the Temple. To await sentencing.”

  “What about Marcus? And Remè?”

  “Marcus will be fine,” he said. “As long as you cooperate. He will learn his place among the Þrymm guard. Rise, in time, to a useful middle rank, and then die bravely in battle.”

  Rhiana cringed as the tears silently began streaming down her face. She felt the prompting heat of the torch shoved at her back, and she shuffled on.

  “And Remè?” he went on. “This will likely kill him.” She could hear the Elder chuckle. “But, what do you care?”

  “He is—he is my husband,” she stammered bravely through her tears.

  “Whatever wretched shell is left stumbling around that little house of yours is most certainly not your husband. And he hasn’t been in years, if you would just be honest.”

  Her fists balled, and the Elder laughed behind her. “Now you attempt to show bravery? Very good, Rhiana, if very misguided.”

  They emerged from the Gildrom entrance, and Rhiana had to shield her eyes from the brightness. She turned to face the Elder, and the two Þrymm guards appeared on either side of her.

  The Elder raised his chin. “Take her. She is to join her daughter.”

  They nodded, and each grasped one of Rhiana’s arms.

  Again, Rhiana’s mouth moved as if to say something, but there were no words. The guards turned her toward the Gildrom path and escorted her away. She searched the woods and hillsides, hoping against hope that the Elder had been lying about Arteura. But there was no one.

  Oh gods, she thought. What have I done?

  18

  Swept Away

  Daina sat with her back against the cool stone wall, idly throwing little pebbles into the Waters, listening to the plop-plop, and generally being bored out of her mind.

  It must be midafternoon by this point, she thought.

  Peata had long since gone back to Cierra. Rahn had come and gone a couple times, the last being when he’d brought lunch for the two of them. They ate, cross-legged, at the ledge of Estemere, silently watching the Waters go by.

  After Caden, Marshaan, and Telluras had left, she, Rahn, and Peata had talked about all that might go right and wrong with what the other men had planned. After Peata left, she and Rahn had talked even more. And now, throwing tiny rocks into the Waters, her mind spun with even more perils and hazards. What the hell was taking so long?

  She heard footfalls approaching the cave. She looked up just as Rahn poked his head through the entrance.

  “Anything?” he asked.

  She gestured sarcastically around the small cavern.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I just can’t help wondering what the hell’s taking so long.”

  She smiled and chuckled; the echoed words of her thoughts broke her free of her musings. “I’ve been wondering that, too.”

  “Do you think they found the Hæðn? Could that be it?”

  “What do you mean? All the way to the—what did they call it, the Gildrom?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Don’t know why they would.”

  Rahn thought for a moment. “Peata said something about the Hæðn thinking us all dead, and that there would be no good purpose in returning. That’s why no one has ever done this before, right?”

  “As far as I know,” Daina answered. “Yes.”

  “Do you ever wonder why no one from the Hæðn has ever come here?”

  It was an interesting speculation. “Not really, no.”

  “Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”

  “Why would it?” She shrugged. “There’s nothing here. We are a desert people. We’ve learned to use and control the few resources we’ve been blessed with. There’s nothing to explore. There’s nothing to conquer. Even if someone were to come across the mountains or through the passes, they would be greeted by nothing more than an endless expanse of desert terrain and nothingness. Our community is well hidden and easily defendable.”

  “Have you ever thought about going back?”

  Daina frowned. “Why would I?” she said. “My parents were Cierran. I have no memory of anything other than Cierra. As far as I know, I was born here.”

  “Is that what your parents told you?”

  “I never asked. It never occurred to me. I have heard I was reaped from the Waters, but I have absolutely no memory of it. Honestly. So, like I said, to me it’s as if I was born here.”

  She cocked her head and raised an eyebrow. “What about you? Have you ever thought of returning?”

  He chuckled to himself. “I’ve lived with you longer than I ever lived with those who raised me in Brynsæd. You are more of a parent to me than they ever could have been. How do you expect me to answer that?”

  “Honestly.” She said. “I expect you to answer honestly.”

  He smiled, but shook his head. “Then, no, I’ve never thought of returning.”

  “But Caden,” she said wistfully.

  “Ah, Caden,” Rahn said.

  “I take it he has talked to you before about his desire to return, not just in that last conversation that Marshaan overheard.”

  He looked down, idly drawing doodles in the sand with his finger as he talked. “He’s mentioned it before, yes.”

  Why hide it? For all Rahn knew, the three other men may be there right now.

  “Would he have done something foolish?” she asked. “I mean, if we hadn’t overheard.”

  “I don’t know,” he answered. “He seemed pretty dead-set on going.”

  “Would you have gone with him?”

  He looked at Daina. There was no accusation in her eyes. No guilt. It seemed an honest question, so he answered truthfully. “Yes, I probably would have.”

  She looked back to the Waters and threw another pebble in. “Good.”

  He flinched, surprised. “Really? You would have been okay with that?”

  “Gods, no.” She laughed. “I’d have likely killed you both on your return. But at least he would have had someone there that cared about him. That had his back. That would have stood by him when, I don’t know, things didn’t go as he’d have dreamed.”

  He had no answer for that, but he appreciated the love and trust Daina had—for Caden and for him.

  They heard commotion from up the passage, in the direction the three others had gone.

  “Is that them?” Rahn asked. “Are they coming back?”

  “Finally,” Daina said.

  The commotion grew louder.

  “That doesn’t sound right,” Rahn said. “It sounds more like—”

  “Water,” Daina finished, dread creeping into her voice. “And a lot of it.”

  She pointed to the river’s entrance, where the water level slowly began to rise and pick up pace.

  Curious, Rahn knelt at the Water’s edge and peered up the passageway.

  “Be careful,” Daina warned. “I don’t like—”

  With a roar, water burst through the passage just as Rahn leapt back. Waves sloshed onto the ledge, soaking their feet. Rahn stumbled, losing his footing, and Daina grabbed his arm, holding him upright and flattening him against the wall next to her.

  Just then a body rushed by, grunting as it hit the overhang of the passage. Rahn saw hands scrabbling at the ledge, trying to gain purchase, and he dropped to his knees, reaching out to grab hold.

  “Rahn!” Daina screamed, holding his other arm as he leaned out. Rahn grasped a forearm and heaved. It was Telluras, terrified and gasping for breath.

  “I’ve got you!” Rahn yelled over the rushing torrent. “Hold on!”

  Telluras pulled with all his strength, reaching for Rahn’s elbow, crawling hand over hand up his arm. He reached for Rahn’s shoulder just as he was hit full-on by another massive body. T
his one Marshaan.

  The force shook Telluras loose and he fell away. Rahn was caught off balance and he turned, grasping for Daina with his other hand while trying to hold footing. He saw Marshaan grab for the overhang on the far side of the cavern, where the Waters entered another passage away from them downstream. He held and reached for Telluras, his face bashed with wave upon wave from the angry river. He grabbed for his brother and missed, flailing in the water as his other hand slipped from the overhang, and he and Telluras disappeared downstream.

  Daina repositioned, screaming Rahn’s name and reaching for him. The river was up to her knees now, a relentless push, and she slipped, instinctively reaching back for a handhold on the wall. Rahn tumbled into the Waters just as she gripped an outcropping. She turned back as his hand slipped from hers, his eyes panicked and his face contorted in a silent scream as he sank beneath the waves.

  She screamed his name, but he was gone.

  All three of them. Gone.

  Seconds went by. Then minutes.

  She shouted their names, over and over, pacing the narrow ledge as the Waters began to recede. She was yanking at her hair as tears streamed down her face. When the Waters floated below the edge, she sat down, tearing off her outer tunic and frantically rubbing her legs, her calves, her feet. She hated the Waters. All water. The feeling against her skin was like a thousand spiders crawling. She was sobbing and growling and frantically drying herself, ridding herself of that infernal sensation. It was the only thing she could control.

  She’d lost them. All of them. And it had happened in seconds. She sunk her head to her knees as a fresh round of sobs wracked her body.

  She should go after them. Shouldn’t she?

  But that would mean diving into the Waters, toward the gods-know-what end. Her mind was torn in half, between the fear of losing her friends and family and her fear of diving into the Waters.

  What in all of the gods’ names did she think she was doing being a Watcher? She had no right. She’d always had Marshaan with her. She was the Watcher and he was the rescuer. They were a team. And now he was gone, and it was all her fault. She couldn’t rescue him. All she could do was watch him go by. The look on his face as he disappeared from view was like a dagger through her heart. Or was that Rahn she was thinking of?