Katyett shrugged. ‘I can’t help that. But look at them. Who’s going to take the first step to attack me, do you think? Tai, we pray.’
They dropped their heads, murmuring two prayers to bless the actions the split cell must take. Katyett prayed for understanding. Grafyrre and Merrat prayed for strength, speed, the darkening of the night and a storm of Gyal’s tears. Thunder cracked across the sky.
‘Gyal has heard you,’ said Katyett.
‘You don’t believe that,’ said Merrat.
‘Makes good scripture, doesn’t it?’
Katyett laid a hand on each of her friend’s heads and then moved off along a spur of the gantry. She reached the end and swung onto the nearest roof timber, moving quickly along it towards the eaves. She dropped to the timber below and made the top of the walls. She eyed the blue paint with distaste. Below her, the thread guards were unaware of the TaiGethen above them.
With a nod to Merrat and Grafyrre, Katyett hung underneath the beam. She swung her legs to give her some pace, let go her hands and dropped. Her feet slapped against the wall and she began to run along the sheer surface, angling sharply down. When her weight overcame her speed, she pushed away, twisted in the air, dropped sixty feet and landed on the balls of her feet, turning a quick roll to absorb the impact.
She came to a stand between the Beethan and Gyalan threads. Guards snapped round. Katyett raised her hands in peace, placed a finger to her lips and walked quickly towards the door of the warehouse. The guards, all unarmed of course, came towards her from all angles. Sense prevailed and they kept silent. Katyett stopped close to the rope barrier. She allowed herself to be surrounded by elves with hate in their eyes and violence in the set of their bodies.
‘You can do one of two things,’ said Katyett. ‘You can kill me right here and now and I will not raise a defence against you. Or you can listen to me and I will save all of your lives. Which is it to be?’
Chapter 32
I do not require you to die for me. I do not want you to die for me. I merely want you to be prepared to die for me. ‘They are giving us neither food nor water. They are weakening us. The only thing free here is sleep and we spend most of the time sleeping. What else is there but despair?’
The Beethan iad looked exhausted and sick. None of those standing before Katyett looked capable of fighting. The thirst would be maddening, the hunger painful and the boredom dangerous.
‘And what of the dead?’ asked Katyett, gesturing at the covered bodies. ‘How did they die?’
‘We had a riot here in the first hours after the doors were closed,’ said a Gyalan with bruising across his face and a long cut on his right hand, presumably from fingernails or raking teeth. ‘Twenty died. It was over thread hate and rumours about who had what food and water. The others died when they tried to rush the doors to knock them down. It was horrible.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Come,’ said the Gyalan.
He led Katyett to the bodies. The other guards, five of them, followed at a short distance. The Gyalan stooped and drew the cloak from a body. Katyett took an involuntary step back and glanced up to the gantry where Graf and Merrat looked on. She forced herself to look down again.
It was hard to tell if she was looking at iad or ula, Gyalan. Cefan, Beethan or Ixii. The corpse had no hair. The scalp was blackened. The face looked as if it had been lashed by a whip of fire. It was slashed and cauterised in twenty places. Ugly, burned scars that had taken both eyes, ripped through lips and nose and pared through to the jawbone.
Though the clothes were largely undamaged, the right hand was burned so deep that Katyett could see the white of finger bones. The left hand was gone entirely. This body had bare feet too. They were blackened and melted. The pain must have been terrible. Katyett knelt and spoke a prayer for the soul to find peace, rest and comfort.
‘What did this?’ she asked, replacing the cloak and straightening.
‘Human magic,’ said the Cefan guard, an ula with oozing patches in his scalp where his hair had been ripped out. ‘Placed on the door. It was like the lightning of Gyal’s worst storm of rage. It came from the wood and covered them, jabbing into them, flaying them and setting their flesh on fire. Since then, we haven’t fought amongst ourselves and we haven’t tried to escape again. There is such fear in here. Most are waiting to die.’
‘And you have brought this on us,’ said the Beethan. ‘The Ynissul invited men to our shores. Here is the result.’
‘So take out your fury on me if you really believe that I, Katyett of the TaiGethen, invited those enemies into our homes. The truth is that all of you who cheered the denouncement of Takaar and the shattering of the harmony have rendered us helpless. Standing together, the threads would defeat this enemy. Fighting amongst ourselves makes us weak.
‘Ynissul heretics have brought this plague to our shores. The rest of us have allowed it to spread unchecked.’
‘You’re blaming us?’ The Gyalan’s voice was raised.
‘Voice down!’ hissed Katyett. ‘I blame all of us, including myself. I did not see betrayal in those I served and loved and I am shamed for that. I blame you because you chose the route of hate of all threads but your own. Because you sought to protect only your own and damn the rest. Because you made it so easy for men to take charge. And do not doubt that they are now in charge of this city.’
‘Really?’ The Beethan gestured around the warehouse. ‘I see no Ynissul here. Nor do I see Apposans and nor do I see Tuali.’
Katyett moved a half-pace towards the Beethan, menacing for the first time since she had dropped amongst them. The Beethan took a full pace back.
‘The Ynissul are not here because after they were victimised, brutalised, raped and beaten by elves from every other thread, I had to take them from the city. I wonder how many in here are guilty of crimes, yet I still wish to save you. The Apposans are not here because they were fortunate enough to be warned away and are now in hiding under the canopy.
‘The jails are full of Orrans and Ixii, and of your brothers and sisters too. All other elves are subject to curfew and are prisoners in their own homes. And the Tuali are not here because men surrounded them in the Park of Tual and slaughtered four hundred of them while Helias walked with the cascarg in another part of the city.
‘We are all expendable to humans. We are all suffering. And your hate has made the situation so much worse. And still I wish to save all of you.’
Katyett pointed back into the warehouse. ‘Every ula and iad in here deserves freedom. I have to have your help or most will die. There are more ships coming. Thousands more men will be here tomorrow and it is our belief that they will murder everyone in here when they arrive. You are trouble and they cannot afford to let you live.
‘So I stand with you. If you are with me, when the time comes, most of us will breathe fresh air once more. If you are with me, you will go and wake those of you in each thread who command authority and respect and I will tell you what must be done.’
Katyett drew both blades from her scabbards and flipped them, holding them out hilts first.
‘If you are not with me, take these blades and end my life now because I have no wish to live among elves with no courage, no belief and no will to survive. And I do not wish to burn.’
There was the most fractional hesitation before the guards exchanged glances and trotted off back to their own peoples. Katyett looked up at Grafyrre and Merrat. She made quick hand signals.
Get Pakiir, Marack, Faleen and Ekuurt. We await you.
Katyett was a powerful force. One elf among thousands should have been swallowed, but the sheer strength of her will had turned a divided mass of desperate elves into a single entity for the moment. And a moment was all she hoped they would need. Grafyrre and Merrat were in the burned-out shop again. With them were the TaiGethen Katyett had requested, brought back from scouting duties deep in Ysundeneth. All six assessed the dockside. Eighteen soldiers, three mages. The numbers were the same but the atmosphere had changed.