Pelyn shook her head. ‘The fact is that you think us not good enough to run with you.’
Katyett’s face was stone. ‘Yourself excepted, you are not good enough to do the work that must be done tonight. Methian is a worthy fighter and a great asset, but he has not the speed. He knows that and so do you. Please, Pelyn. This is the right way.’
‘Pelyn,’ said Takaar, and he remembered the tone that made her listen to him. ‘Will you hear me.’
‘You know I will, Takaar,’ she said quietly.
‘Don’t chase glory in battle. This task Katyett has set is steeped in honour. If she is unsuccessful. If she should fall, the elves who survive will need a leader of your quality. You have the gift of bringing threads together. It’s why I made you Arch of the Al-Arynaar. No one is better suited. And when we’re done, we will find you at Katura.’
Pelyn inclined her head. ‘I’ll go. For the harmony, not for you. And Katyett. Don’t die, all right?’
Katyett smiled ‘Yniss bless you, Pelyn, I’ll try not to.’
Chapter 37
A hero never needs a second chance because he has not erred in the first place. Seventy-four TaiGethen. If Takaar was counted among their number. None spoke to him. None would stand near him. His presence was both inspiration and anxiety. Takaar stood apart, unwilling or unable to be among them while they planned and talked.
Marack and Auum had agreed to run with him into the city. Katyett had no idea whether he would remain with them or not. He had fought well in the forest but only when the mages had stopped casting so much of their magic. Until then he had been weak as a newborn.
Katyett looked at her people. So few. They had gathered at the mouth of the Ultan. The night was full and dark. Gyal had spread her shroud across the stars and the eyes of men could not see them. They had prayed together, applying their face paints and blessing their weapons, both flesh and steel.
Seventy-four against thousands. In a city where magic was scattered like dust underfoot. Any step could be the one that took iad or ula to Shorth’s embrace. An invisible killer surer than anything the rainforest had to offer. Yet there was no fear in the eyes of her people. Yniss blessed their bodies. Tual guided their hands and their feet.
‘Men are everywhere in Ysundeneth. They have occupied the temple of Shorth, the barracks of the Al-Arynaar and taken homes from elves, putting them on the street or to the sword. Their magic is terribly dangerous and their weapon skills decent. They fight heavy and wear armour to make up for their shortcomings. They have some skills with bows too. But they are slow.
‘Do not underestimate them. Their numbers are high and their fear of their master will drive them on. Do not be tempted away from the paths I have laid out for you. You are all aware of what we must achieve. Show no mercy. Expect no mercy.
‘They know we will come. They can’t place their ward castings where they themselves might stand but they will place them where we might travel. If anything smells or feels wrong, go another way. I can’t afford to lose any of you. I love you. You are my brothers and sisters. My family.
‘Questions.’
There was silence for a time. Katyett saw unease sweep them. She saw the glances too.
‘Estok,’ she said. ‘Speak. Unlike you to be silent.’
Estok nodded and gestured at Takaar, who was close enough to hear.
‘What is he doing here?’ he hissed. ‘We can’t trust him. And you’ve yoked him with Marack and Auum.’
‘We need him,’ said Katyett.
Estok’s expression was like a slap in the face.
‘We? We’ve followed you for ten years and you have never led us along the wrong path. He walks in from nowhere, and every time you want to make a decision, you look at him like you need his assent. We don’t need him. We don’t need the invisible presence he mutters to half the time, either. Perhaps you do, though.’
Katyett felt stung and had to force herself to face Estok and not glance to her left where Takaar stood.
‘My past with Takaar is my past,’ said Katyett carefully. ‘And you are not seeing this situation clearly. Yes, he is a risk. He will tell you that. But think. Whatever the outcome of tonight and the days to come, we face a struggle to unite our people. And to rid Calaius of man. The reputation of the priesthood is in ruins. At the moment we needed them most, priests did not stand together in harmony. They divided. Some betrayed us all. Elves will need a figurehead. Who else can you think of?’
‘He’s been denounced!’ Estok’s voice bounced from the walls of the Ultan. He hushed himself. ‘Who will follow him? What of his reputation? You saw him speak to the Ynissul. Did they embrace him or were they suspicious? He cannot hope to wield the influence he once did. This is ridiculous.’
Estok looked square at Takaar.
‘It’s madness,’ he said. Takaar was not paying them any attention whatever. He was rubbing at his chin and muttering under his breath. ‘Is that really the salvation of the elves?’
Katyett stared at Takaar, and Estok’s words sank true into her belly. Takaar was at war with himself again. Every eye was on him but he did not notice. She caught snatches of what he was saying. His responses to what he heard in his head were those of someone desperately trying not to be undermined, and failing.
‘I would speak.’
Katyett felt blessed relief.
‘Auum. Yes, of course.’
‘Estok, I hear you,’ said Auum, choosing to speak formally. ‘And it seems that Estok speaks for most of you. I hear you too. Now you hear me. Takaar has saved my life. He has also tried to take it. He is not the ula who stood with many of us on the walls of the Tul-Kenerit.
‘Takaar has faced what he did and what he is. He lives with it every moment, waking or asleep. You do not trust him. He does not expect your trust. You do not love him. He does not expect your love. Nor your forgiveness. But think on this. Takaar once walked with gods and now he is reduced to the most vilified of elves.
‘Yet still he returned. Ask yourself about the scale of strength and resolve it takes to come and face the judgement of your people. Ask yourself why he has chosen to do this. Not for himself. Not for redemption. Ask him. He doesn’t believe he deserves that either. But from his exile at the Verendii Tual he felt the shivering of the harmony. And his belief in its endurance overcame any fear he kept for himself.
‘Takaar is here for you. For every ula and iad that wants to drag us back from the nightmare into which we are descending. He might fail. So might we all. But does not every elf deserve a second chance?’
Katyett waited for Auum’s words to settle before she spoke.
‘Tais. We hunt.’ Silent Priest Sikaant saw her sitting with her back to a tree and hugging her knees to her. He saw the blood on her hands and on her face. The body of the man was close. His throat was ripped open, a gory, bloody mess. He had died in terror and agony. Shorth would see his torment continued for eternity.
Sikaant crouched in front of her.
‘I’ve lost my Rydd,’ she said.
Sikaant held out a hand. ‘Let us find him together.’
The iad took his hand and he felt an energy surge through her fingers and encase his body. Brief like a spear of lightning.
‘Something has happened to me,’ she said.
‘Yniss blesses you,’ said Sikaant.
He had felt this energy before but through his feet, never from within another elf. The iad shrank back, something behind him making her fearful. Sikaant turned where he crouched. It was another of the Silent. Resserrak. He had been a long while hidden in the rainforest and Sikaant could see why Onelle would fear him.
Only half of his face was white. The other half was covered in tattoos, as was much of his body. Words from the Aryn Hiil that he would never speak. His nose and ears were pierced with bone. His eyes were wide and wild. Resserrak had always been closer to Tual’s denizens than any other of the Silent. Now it appeared the transition was almost complete. Sikaant rose and the two priests kissed each other’s eyes and foreheads. Behind Sikaant, the iad had summoned the courage to stand.