But they hadn’t seen Geth’s body, Singe told himself, or Natrac’s. And the orc who had come to their aid had leaped into the water like a child into a swimming hole. There was a chance, wasn’t there?
Wasn’t there?
Singe forced desperate hope out of his head. He couldn’t afford to dream. He had to keep his eyes and his mind clear. His chance would come. He bent his thoughts back to Dandra. “Come on,” he murmured. Dandra ignored him. He clenched his teeth. “Twelve moons, how did you eat the first time you made this journey?”
“We didn’t,” said a harsh voice over him.
Singe jerked and flinched back from Medalashana-Medala as Dah’mir insisted on calling her. The abbreviation suited her. Compared to the woman he had seen in Dandra’s memories, she was like someone cut short, half of her substance and half of her soul stripped away. The kalashtar crouched down, staring at Dandra as if Singe wasn’t even present.
“We starved. The Bonetree clan tolerates weakness in no one. Dah’mir forced them to give us water, but they didn’t feed us and we were too enraptured by Dah’mir’s presence to feed ourselves.”
Singe said nothing. He couldn’t bring himself to it. When Medala had forced herself on his mind, the experience had been nothing like Dandra’s gentle touch. Just having her close made his breath catch as little else ever had.
Medala’s lip curled. “Don’t try to hide your fear, Singe,” she said without looking at him, “I can feel it pouring off of you without even trying.” The kalashtar reached out to brush Dandra’s hair. Dandra gave no reaction and Medala hissed. “But I can’t read you, can I, Tetkashtai? Dah’mir’s hold presses your mind down into places even I can’t reach. We’ll be back at the mound soon enough, though, and when he releases you-”
Shadows stirred in the gathering twilight. “Medala!” snapped Ashi as she strode up to them. “What are you doing? Get away from her!”
The gray-haired woman stood slowly, her eyes flashing. “Are you challenging me, Ashi?”
The camp went quiet, even Dah’mir’s smooth voice fading away. Ashi leaned in close, face to face with Medala. “In this,” she said gruffly, “yes! Singe and Tetkashtai are in my charge. Dah’mir said so.”
“Dah’mir has placed me above the hunters,” Medala hissed back, “and thus above you. I’ll do as I please!”
A chime rang in Singe’s mind and pain lanced through him, just as it had in Zarash’ak. He fell back onto the ground, scattering Dandra’s food as he curled up into a ball and gasped for breath. He heard Ashi yelling angrily-and then Dah’mir’s voice rose sharply. “Ashi! Medala!”
The green-eyed man’s shout was like a slap in the face. The chime in Singe’s mind vanished-and with it the scourging pain of Medala’s power. He rolled over onto his side, panting and shaking. Medala was on the ground, prostrate before Dah’mir’s approach. Ashi kneeled as well, but through watering eyes, Singe could see that her back was rigid with fury. Dah’mir stopped in front of both women, his black robes whispering softly, the dragonshards set into them shimmering softly in the gloom. His presence was like a tangible force in the air and there was the trace of an edge in his voice when he spoke. “Medala, control yourself. I have plans for the wizard and I don’t want him damaged beyond use.”
The words sent a shiver down Singe’s back, but not quite so much as the sight of the powerful kalashtar groveling in the dirt before Dah’mir. “Forgive me!” she begged. “I wouldn’t have harmed him! I only wanted to make Ashi understand her proper place.”
The pale man frowned slightly and turned his gaze on the kneeling hunter. “Ashi, your obedience to my instructions is a credit to you, but you must show respect to Medala. She has my favor-and the favor of the powers of the Dragon Below as the first of a new line of servants.”
“Yes, Dah’mir,” said Ashi. Singe saw her big frame cringe. “I mean, yes, Revered!” Her fingers darted to her lips and her forehead in some sort of ritual sign. Dah’mir’s eyes flashed.
“Have a care, Ashi! Your service has been outstanding, but there are limits to my patience.” He reached down a hand and helped Medala to her feet. The green robes that the kalashtar wore were filthy. Dah’mir spoke a word of simple magic and passed his hand in front of her. The dirt fell away. He took Medala’s arm and led her back to the campfire. Medala’s face shone with adoration.
Through all of it, Dandra hadn’t moved except to follow Dah’mir’s movements.
Groaning, Singe forced himself off the ground and back to her side. There were a few fragments of meat still crushed in his palm. Woodenly, he held another up to Dandra’s lips.
I have plans for the wizard and I don’t want him damaged beyond use. Singe’s belly twisted with more than his hunger-and, he realized, with more than fear for just himself. If Medala was the first of a new line of servants to the Dragon Below, what were Dah’mir’s plans for Dandra?
“Leave off, outclanner,” Ashi growled. Singe flinched around to stare at the hunter. The big woman was rising, anger on her face-but anger that was, thankfully, not directed at him. She held out a flask. “Her body needs water more than it needs food. Leave off trying to feed her and see that she drinks.”
Singe hesitated, then took the flask. Dandra took the water more easily than she took the food. As she drank, Singe glanced back at Ashi. The hunter was glaring at Medala and Dah’mir as they sat by the fire. An idea slid into his mind. He let it brew for a few minutes, turning it back and forth in his mind. After a moment, he said, “Ashi?”
She looked back at him and her mouth curled, the pale rings in her lip catching the light of the fire. “You have nothing to thank me for, outclanner. Dah’mir placed me in charge of you and I do my duty to the Bonetree.”
“I wasn’t going to thank you,” he told her. “You’re holding us prisoner, you’ve kicked me in the stomach, and I think there was a promise to tear out my guts with your hands.”
Her teeth clenched. “Dah’mir has forbidden that.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Singe drew a deep breath and said, “In Zarash’ak, the things you said about Geth …”
“I meant them. He was a good enemy-rond e reis, fierce and tough. He didn’t deserve to die as he did. Take comfort that he probably drowned quickly.”
Singe closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “You’re a woman of strange honor, Ashi.”
“You don’t understand the Bonetree, outclanner,” Ashi said harshly. “Our ways are simple. If an enemy deserves my respect, I will give it to him. Death in combat is honest. Murder, torture-those are the weapons of the weak.”
“You cut off Natrac’s hand.”
Her eyes flashed and she lunged forward, slapping him sharply. “Don’t make me forget my duty,” she seethed, then sat back. “Vennet cut off the half-orc’s hand. It was a shame to me.”
“You didn’t like Vennet,” said Singe. Ashi shook her head. Singe paused, then added carefully, “And you don’t like Medala either.”
She stiffened for a moment before grunting, “The falling man finds the ground. What of it? My duty to the Bonetree comes before anything you can say, outclanner.”
“But not a duty to the powers of Khyber? You’re hiding something from both Dah’mir and Medala, Ashi.”
The hunter froze.
“For all that you insist on calling me ‘outclanner,’ you know my name,” Singe murmured. “You know Geth’s and Natrac’s. I think you know her name, too.” He pointed at Dandra. “But I’ve noticed that you do the same thing Dah’mir and Medala do-you call her Tetkashtai.”
“Medala gave us Tetkashtai’s name before we began the hunt,” Ashi said stiffly.
“Still, you haven’t told Dah’mir or Medala that you also know her by another name. And you didn’t exactly jump to tell Dah’mir about that orc.”