We all waited expectantly. Nothing happened. Shiv frowned and snuffed out his flame with a workaday gesture. “He must be asleep.” Squaring his shoulders, he brought renewed fire to the wood. “Allin? Allin, it’s me, Shiv.”
The shining silver stayed obstinately blank. We all looked at Shiv and I wasn’t reassured to see his face mirror my own confusion.
“Do you want something else shiny?” ’Gren reached for his pack’s buckle.
Shiv frowned. “That won’t make a difference.”
“What would?” Ryshad asked bluntly.
Shiv didn’t answer, lifting the salver again and focusing all his attention on it. “Larissa?” The wood burned with a ferocious crimson. “Curse it!” Shiv swept the brand through the air to kill the flame, relighting it in the next breath. “Darni!”
“They can’t all be asleep, surely?” I heard concern catch in my voice.
“Is there some aetheric hindrance?” Ryshad asked, perplexed
“There’s no power here any more.” Sorgrad spoke up as Shiv shook his head. “It’s like the Shernasekke hargeard; nothing to react to the magic.” He walked round in a slow circle. “We’d have heard that bell sound if there was.”
Ryshad’s thoughts were long leagues away. “We have to let Temar and Halice know they can attack the pirates. Shiv, what else can you do? Livak, do you have any Artifice to contact Guinalle?”
“I’m afraid not.” I was sorry to have to disappoint him.
“Let’s see what scrying can show us.” Shiv cast aside the blackened wood and knelt on the damp grass. He laid the salver flat and dew sparkled briefly as it rolled across the turf, oozing over the metal to form a thickening emerald skin. Ryshad handed over his pot of ink and Shiv let a single drop fall from the stopper.
We crowded round. It took me a moment to realise the green mists had dissipated because initially all we saw were green leaves of almost exactly the same hue. Shiv drew the vision along the shore until we saw the camp laid out before us, neat campfires with people busy about them.
“That looks orderly enough.” I held both relief and worry firmly in check. There were more campfires than I expected but nowhere near enough people.
Ryshad was seeing the same as me. “Where’s Halice? Temar?”
Shiv wasn’t listening. He betrayed a sigh of release as the scrying found Pered standing outside the hut the pirates had left us, deep in conversation with someone I didn’t recognise. Whoever he was, someone had given him the worst beating I’d seen outside a mercenary camp.
I held my peace, counting a silent handful of heartbeats so Shiv could be sure his beloved was fine.
’Gren had no such delicacy. ”Where’s Halice, curse you!”
“Give me a moment.” Pered’s face faded and the water dulled to a stagnant jade before new magic suffused the water with verdant brilliance.
“There she is,” said Shiv with fervent relief.
I squinted at the image confined in the silver platter. “Where?”
“They’ve taken the Suthyfer landing,” exclaimed Ryshad.
“They have?” Sorgrad abandoned his thoughtful circuit of the mound to join us.
“We’re totally after the fair.” ’Gren was seriously displeased. ”No one to fight and no chance of any share in the loot.”
Shiv was still intent on his spell. “What do you suppose happened here?” The scrying showed us the burnt-out remnants of the pirates’ stockade, a group of mercenaries getting filthy tearing it down.
“Looks like you’re not the only ones who got carried away with your fire starting.” I smiled at Sorgrad who was studying the scene with interest.
“How did Halice know they could attack and be safe from the enchanters?” Shiv wondered aloud.
“Good question.” But Ryshad was well enough satisfied. “Still, the fight’s done and we won.”
“It can’t have been an easy fight, even without the Elietimm,” I pointed out. “If ’Sar and the others were using all their wits and wizardry, they’re probably still sleeping.”
There was no doubt our friends were masters of the landing. Like those miniature ships that sailors too old to be hired like to sell, we saw the Dulse and the Fire Minnow riding blithely at safe anchor. Solitary watchmen paced their decks with none of the fearful urgency of men expecting attack. Halice’s troops were reclaiming Kellarin’s cargoes from the ramshackle remnants of the pirates’ encampments, sentries circling with the same desultory stroll.
“Rosarn, Vaspret, Minare.” I ticked off faces I recognised on my fingers before chewing my lip as Shiv’s roving spell swept across callously piled bodies. Those had to be pirates. Our dead would be treated with far more respect lest Ostrin turn up in one of his legendary disguises to ask the reason why.
“No mages, nor Guinalle,” observed Ryshad.
“They’ll be sitting down to a rich breakfast aboard ship,” said ’Gren scornfully. “Noble born pay mercenaries to sit and eat their gruel on the cold ground.”
“Shiv, can you see inside the cabins?”
Not without—” The wizard froze and I heard a most unwelcome sound carried by the questing breeze.
“Goat bells.”
“Goat pizzles,” growled ’Gren. “I’d have bet yesterday scared them off for a season and a half.” He drew his long knife.
“Let’s leave them to it,” I pleaded. “We’ve seen Suthyfer’s secure. Let’s not risk our necks in some pointless scrap with the locals.”
“This is supposed to be the work of vengeful Eldritch Kin.” Ryshad waved a hand around the ruined circle. “Some gutted goatherd will set everyone looking for a man with a blade instead.” He ran a hand through wind-tousled curls. “Shiv, can you get us back to Suthyfer with Sorgrad’s help?”
Shiv shook his head. “Only one at a time. That would take the better part of two days and I’d need to sleep safe in between times.”
“We’re not splitting up,” ’Gren warned. “Not us and not her.”
“We need to lie up until we can get a nexus worked to lift us out of here together,” said Sorgrad with authority.
“The safest place will be Olret’s fiefdom,” Ryshad pointed out.
“I could take us all that far with one spell,” said Shiv confidently.
“About Olret.” I’d pushed him and his secrets to the back of my mind while Ilkehan dominated the foreground. “Are you suggesting we go back to his keep?” I sat on a convenient stump of rock.
“His laundresses could spare us some soap.” Sorgrad scratched at the soot-smudged and smeary colour still greasy on his forearm. “I’ll never hear the last of it if Halice sees me painted up like a masquerader.”
“Some of those pretty girls might be interested in finding out just how far the blue goes.” ’Gren’s lascivious chuckle ruined his air of spurious innocence.
Ryshad looked closely at me. “What about Olret?”
’Gren was still pursuing his own line of thought. “He should be a sound bet for a good breakfast.”
“You recall those locked gates on his stairs?” I said casually. That won me everyone’s attention.
“Yes,” said Shiv slowly.
This wasn’t the time for dancing round the truth. “Olret keeps a handful of women locked in cages up there, penned like animals in their own filth. They claim to be from Shernasekke, taken captive by Olret when he joined Ilkehan in attacking their house.”
“You didn’t think to mention this before?” Shiv was incredulous.
“You didn’t believe them?” Ryshad wasn’t wasting time with recriminations but the stern glint in his eye warned me to explain myself when we were alone together.
“I didn’t know what to believe. They have powerful Artifice but Olret somehow limits their powers to that one room. They wanted me to get word to their kin in Evadasekke.” I racked my memory. “And Froilasekke and somewhere else.”
“Why’s Olret holding them?” Sorgrad demanded as Shiv fumbled for his map.
“To try and get a blood claim on the Shernasekke lands when one of the girls decides his bed is a better place than a prison.” I scowled at ’Gren who looked ready to make some inappropriate quip. “And it seems they keep their lore very close, these Elietimm adepts. The Shernasekke women reckoned they could work Artifice that Olret couldn’t master. Those secrets were something else he wanted.”