The best of the lie that Brot’ân’duivé had formulated for Dänvârfij had been that it was the truth. Dänvârfij and Fréthfâre would be in full panic once they found Magiere’s last hiding place was empty. By the time they converged on the waterfront, any ship they managed to board and search would give them nothing.
Magiere would be long gone, and they would have to wait to follow her.
Brot’ân’duivé wanted them to wait—and to follow. For in all the plans concerning the orbs, there were three factors that concerned him the most.
First, he had had to choose whom to follow in going after only one orb at a time. Following Magiere was the only true choice, though Wynn Hygeorht seemed to know much more about the devices.
Second, keeping his enemies far from as many facts as possible meant keeping them away from the young sage. And again, that meant keeping their focus on Magiere in their ignorance. But this also served Brot’ân’duivé’s final concern.
And last, Dänvârfij, Fréthfâre, and all with them would never give up. It would not matter how many ways he found to hamper them. If he was to keep them from completing their purpose, they would have to be brought within his reach. They must follow Magiere—and him—and he would not leave one of them alive in the end.
His people’s freedom from Most Aged Father depended on this, just as their survival in what would come might depend on these unknown devices of the Ancient Enemy.
The waterfront was far beyond sight of the small castle of the human sages, yet Brot’ân’duivé looked up the street between the warehouses and into the city.
Three bells for midnight rang softly across Calm Seatt, and still there was no sign of Osha.
Whatever had happened to the young one, Brot’ân’duivé could only hope that Osha had fulfilled his final task. There was no time for worry, disappointment ... or even grief, if the worst had happened. In that last concern, he had one dark hope.
It seemed impossible that Osha could have died. No, not for the sake of the unexplained fate that had separated the young one from the life he had wanted most of all. Osha had to be alive, which meant he had chosen not to return as instructed.
Brot’ân’duivé looked toward the bay and saw the skiff coming in. He slipped from the shadows and headed silently up the nearest dock, waiting until the skiff arrived and a heavily bearded sailor climbed up the ladder.
“Any baggage?” the man asked.
Brot’ân’duivé shook his head.
“Then we’d best go. Captain wasn’t thrilled with this delay for a late-night pickup.”
Brot’ân’duivé hesitated. “One moment,” he said, and looked again toward the city.
“You waitin’ for someone else?” the sailor asked.
Brot’ân’duivé lingered, ignoring the sailor, until he heard the man sigh. Then he turned and followed the sailor down the ladder into the skiff.
Leanâlhâm stood at the ship’s rail, waiting for the skiff to return. In the last year of crossing the world, she had waited too many times. However, the worst of this instance was not being without the certain protection of a greimasg’äh but wondering when Osha would finally return.
It was so dark across the water to the lights of the human city, and waiting yet again grew to be too much. As late as it was, she needed something to fill the moments. It did not matter anymore if she took up her final task without Brot’ân’duivé.
Leanâlhâm turned away, ignoring the stares of two sailors on deck. She descended the ladder below the aftcastle to hurry for the cargo bay. She paused at its door long enough to turn up her oil lantern and then peeked inside, making certain no sailors were in there. The bay was only half full, and thankfully the two trunks were in easy reach and not buried beneath other cargo. She set down the lantern and crouched before the first one.
“I am here,” she said, struggling with the strap buckles on the slightly smaller trunk. “One moment.”
It took longer than that before the straps were free. She pulled a cord with a set of keys over her head to unlock the trunk’s catch. It took both hands for her to heave the lid open.
Magiere sucked a deep breath and struggled out of the ball she was curled into inside the trunk.
“Are you all right?” Leanâlhâm asked.
Magiere struggled up to her feet, scowling as she worked one stiff knee and growled, “Leesil is never planning anything again!”
“Oh, quit whining,” came a muffled voice from the other trunk. “It worked, didn’t it?”
The other trunk suddenly vibrated amid an erratic thumping from within.
“Hey!” Léshil shouted louder. “For the last time, Chap ... get your butt out of my face!”
Leanâlhâm’s mouth gaped.
Magiere groaned under her breath. “Let’s get them out of there ... before Chap gets bitten.”
Leanâlhâm crawled to the second chest, waiting as Magiere quickly undid the straps, and then she fumbled once while getting the key into the lock.
“Hurry up, already,” Léshil cried out.
Magiere quickly heaved open the lid. Inside the trunk, Leanâlhâm found Chap almost upside down atop Léshil, who was crushed at the bottom.
“What took so long?” he demanded.
“Oh, quit your whining,” Magiere answered.
“Yeah? Well, you had a private ‘room,’” Leesil retorted. “Next time, you get to bunk with his sacred stinkyness.”
“I said there won’t be a next time,” Magiere warned.
Leanâlhâm could only imagine how awful the afternoon and half a night had been for these three, locked up like this. Even with a water skin each and some air holes punched low in the trunks’ sides, it must have been more than stifling.
Chap launched off the top of Léshil’s stomach, and Leanâlhâm had to duck.
Léshil made a retching sound. “Ow! Valhachkasej’â, you mongrel!”
Leanâlhâm gasped at Léshil’s curse. As Chap landed on the floorboards behind her, she gripped the trunk’s edge, leaning straight into Léshil’s face.
“You do not speak to him that way!” she admonished.
Léshil lurched away, his back flattened against the trunk’s far side. “But he ... I only ...”
“He is a sacred guardian of my people!” Leanâlhâm shouted, too outraged for any of his excuses. “You will show respect.”
Léshil just blinked twice and looked up at Magiere.
Magiere took in Leesil’s dumbstruck face, and she held up both hands. “I’m not getting into the middle of this.”
Leesil’s eyes narrowed on Chap, though he clenched his mouth shut in an angry pout under Leanâlhâm’s steady glare. It didn’t help that Chap peeked around from behind the girl and flicked his tongue out and up over his nose.
This had to be more than just the girl reacting to Leesil’s and Chap’s foul moods. Leanâlhâm had been left on her own for too long, too worried about all that was happening beyond her reach.
Magiere reached down and grasped the girl’s arm, pulling her. “Come on ... we could all do with some fresh air.”
Leanâlhâm grasped Magiere’s arm in turn. “No! You cannot be seen.... What if all did not go right ... the other anmaglâhk come for the ship ... or someone here betrays you?”
“We’ll be fine,” Magiere assured, though more than ever she realized how difficult things were going to become with Leanâlhâm to watch over. “Brot’an set up the timing and they should both be aboard soon. We’ll be out of port before anyone knows it.”
Leanâlhâm calmed a little, though she still looked uncertain. She wouldn’t let go of Magiere’s arm.