“Whether all this fussing about morality means I’ll dither about, resplitting split hairs?”
“Something like that.”
“No. That comes under not-nice but not-fatal and it’ll get the job done.”
“Hinnumn…” Aleytys moved her feet in the little stream, lifting them at intervals so drops of water cascaded musically from her heels into the rush of the current. The minutes slid past in a deepening silence.
On the other bank of the stream Shadith lay watching the blue of the pseudo sky and the small creatures flying about in it. Two of them looked like tiny green and gold dragons and were swooping in interlocked figure eights. Others were small bright birds, silver and blue and crimson and a dark metallic green, with trailing silky tail feathers and elaborate crests. There were soft brown moths that sang more sweetly than any bird. Around her in the grass and the ferns that grew under the trees she heard small rustles, sometimes saw red-brown squirrels run up a crackled trunk.
The whisper of the stream and the tink tink tink of the drips falling from Aleytys’ feet crept into Shadith’s bones and soothed away the worry and uncertainty.
After a while she slept.
17. Waiting
1
Lylunda looked up as one of the village girls came into the house. “He’s worn out. He should sleep for a good while now. What’s your name?”
“Delala, Drummer.” She came across the room, her bare feet silent on the mat. “He looks like just a boy.”
“Don’t let that fool you, Delala. He’s clever and rather dangerous.” Lylunda stood. “Get him into the Bond as soon as you can.”
“Oh, we’ll do that in any case.”
“Omel oma, I leave him in your care. There’s Lung stew simmering on the-stove. Soon as he stirs, get some more of it down him. I’ll look in again before the beronta leaves.”
Lylunda left the guest house and walked down to the beach where the flikit sat like a metallic cricket, already starting to corrode. Tudil was waiting for her, standing beside a small sailing canoe pulled up on the sand.
She waved to him. “See you at the edge of the Deep,” she called.
He laughed. “Edge of the Deep.” He pulled the canoe out into the water, swung himself inside with the liquid ease that still amazed her. After he got the sail up, he went running straight out to sea, the canoe bobbing up and down like a rubber toy as it lifted and fell with the waves.
Lylunda waited until all she could see was the tip of the mast, then she climbed into the flikit. “You or me, Worm,” she said as she took it up. “With this out of the way,” she patted the arm of the pilot’s chair, “by the time you can get back to your ship, you won’t want to. And I’ll be gone. One way or another, I’ll be gone.”
She caught up with the canoe, slowed down and drifted along ahead of it until Tudil dropped sail, tossed a sea anchor overside, and turned into the wind. Blessing Worm’s habit of keeping his tools meticulously maintained, she clipped the lift harness around her, took the flikit spiraling up until she thought she was high enough. She disabled the altitude interlock, started the flikit racing down a long slant toward the surface of the water, a slant pointed away from Tudil and the canoe. A moment later, she ejected and went tumbling away from the machine.
The lift harness was set to Worm’s weight. He was thin and short, without a lot of muscle mass, so her heavier body plunged swiftly enough to put a lump in her throat, but it let her reach the water before the flikit did. The flotation bubbles deployed and she began kicking toward the canoe.
The
The sun set before they got back to shore.
As she stumbled from the canoe, Lylunda could hear the beronta drums sounding in the village; they drew her, but she was really too tired to answer the throb in her blood. She touched Tudil’s arm. “Tell Menget I’ll be sleeping in the guest house tonight. We still leaving tomorrow?”
“Yes. After the morning market.”
“Omel oma, come get me when it’s time, hm?”
Lylunda sat with Worm while Delala was fixing breakfast for them. His face was knotted with the intensity of his sleep and he looked absurdly like a baby. She’d have felt worse for him if he and his brother hadn’t used Zombi on her. Xman. Hah! Exi Exinta. What an idiot ploy that was. She couldn’t see much resemblance; Worm and the Xman must have had different mothers. The other brother was a convict on Pillory. “Not a political.” She shivered. If you weren’t a political, governments sent you to Pillory because they didn’t do death and cringed at the thought that you’d ever get loose. “I think it’s probably just as well for the universe if your Mort stays right where he is.”
He stirred a little at the sound of her voice. His mouth worked; he closed one hand into a fist, pressed it against his lips, and settled back to sleeping.
She leaned over him, pinched his earlobe.
He woke reluctantly, scowling at her.
“You don’t talk Pandai,” she said. “And I’m leaving. So I want to be sure you know what you’re into here. Make up your mind to it, if you live and I think you probably will, you’ll never leave Bol Mutiar again. There’s something in the air, a virus or something like that. The Pandai call it the Tung Bond, for what that’s worth. Make it mad and it’ll eat you alive from the inside out You should know, because it started to do just that yesterday when you grabbed me. Remember how it felt, Worm, and walk carefully around these folk. Even an ottodoc’s no good, so don’t count on that. The Pandai on this island will take care of you. It’s called Keredel, by the way, and the Pandai here call themselves Kerdela. I’ve explained about your brothers and why you were trying to attack me. They’re good people and are really sorry about what’s going to happen to you, though they can’t do anything about it The flikit is at the bottom of the ocean. I did that, so don’t blame the locals. The girl who will be bringing your breakfast is called Delala. Remember the Bond and treat her nice. Good-bye, Worm.”
He shoved himself up and tried to grab her, but he was too weak and fainted instead.
Tudil came while she was still in the kitchen, drinking the last of the tea. “Luna, Menget says you should come now; there’s a storm blowing up and we need to get clear of land before it hits.”
3
When Worm woke a second time, a pretty, smiling girl was bending over him, washing his face with a cool cloth. She fetched a cup of water, lifted his head and helped him drink.
“Delala?” he said.
She giggled. “Ngar ngi,” she said. “Delala. Kau tkoy ak?” She touched his brow, repeated, “Kau tkoy ak?”
“Worm,” he said, guessing at her meaning, though it seemed obvious enough.
“Warrum,” she said and giggled again. “Ak moi er a tiktut,” She patted his knee. “Nga mengii.”
He watched her trot from the room, listened to the soft pat of her bare feet as she went somewhere to do something. His whole body hurt and he was so weak he couldn’t stand. It was enough to make anyone sink, especially when he’d done it to himself, coming here like this without even wondering why the Spy took off without Lylunda when all she had to do was put out her hand and take her.
Mort and Xman. He’d killed them. No way to get around that. His father was going to get hoiked out of his place because who could defend the Stead now? Cousins was all and cousins don’t have the same blood bonds. Cousins betrayed you all the time. His eyes burned with tears that wouldn’t stop coming. He was shamed, but he couldn’t stop that crying.
Delala came in, clicked her tongue, and began talking at him. He didn’t understand a word of it, and that just made the misery worse. She helped him sit up and empty his bladder into a pitcher of some kind.