The girl nodded, face grave suddenly. "We must hurry, then. Time is short. I should explain to you, so that you'll know and not be frightened, and so that you can help me explain to my mother, so that she won't be frightened. Naamen, too. He will come with us also. I want you to hear first, though. All right?"
Kelis nodded.
"Good. Are you ready? Don't be afraid. The Santoth are here with me. Look." She cocked her head just enough to indicate a vague area over her left shoulder.
Just as with Leeka, the beings she named snapped into existence. Kelis did not see them materialize: they were just there when they had not been a moment before. The figures stood bunched together: hooded, vague shapes that the rising sun cast in highlight and shadow. Seeing them, Kelis felt his heart pound. They looked like an army of assassins, standing immobile and yet shifting even in their stillness, not entirely of this world. He tried to number them, but he lost count each time. Numbers did not seem to stick to them. Not so many; not so few. Oh, why did they just stand there? He would have said they were waiting for something, but waiting was not the right word. They were eating each moment, impatient. They pulsed with energy contained through force of will. They were hungry, and-Kelis knew-they would not wait long.
"What do they want?" he asked.
Shen stared at them as well, though her expression was calm, lips puckered in an almost wistful expression. "They asked me to release them from exile," she said. "And I did."
"You… could do that?"
The girl smiled. "Yes, silly. They asked me the same thing. They thought I had to be a boy to do it, but they were wrong."
"Shen, what do they want? They are danger, Shen. They were exiled for horrible-"
"I know. They showed me. I saw it all. Those things that happened long ago-with Tinhadin-it wasn't like the old tales say. I saw it and it's… different." She frowned, exhaled through her nose, looking so very adult and so childlike at the same time. The words to continue seemed hard for her to find. Touching her fingers to her forehead, she said, "They put the knowledge in my head. I can't explain it all to you right now, but the important thing is that we need them back in the world. You know The Song of Elenet? The Santoth know when it's being read. They can feel it. For many, many lifetimes it went unread. It was silent to them. They feared it was lost. Even my father could not find it. But that was before. It's been found, Kelis. Someone has been reading it, studying it, for the last few years. For all the years of my life. You know who, yes? My aunt, Queen Corinn."
"I saw the canals she filled with water in Bocoum. Heard tales of the things."
"Yes, that's part of the problem. She is doing things without understanding the consequences."
"Consequences?" The word-and the yawning things it might mean-seemed too big for her small mouth. "What consequences? Like the foulthings?"
Looking slightly impatient, Shen glanced back at the Santoth, signed to them with her hands, then turned back to Kelis. "They want us to start moving. They know how slow we are. I can't tell it all to you. Some things I don't have words for. Yes, the foulthings are part of it. The Santoth made those themselves, and they regret it. But they say the beasts are nothing compared to the curses Corinn could unleash. Every time she takes from one place and puts in another place, she leaves a scar between the two. Others of the song can use those scars to enter the living world."
"Others of the song?"
"Kelis," Shen said, placing a hand on his shoulder like a mother might to a child, "the Santoth weren't the only sorcerers ever thrown down or banished. There were others. There were evil ones like the Five Disciples of Reelos. There were early mistakes of Elenet. There are sorcerers from other worlds the Giver created. Some of them-especially if they put their ears to the scars-can hear Corinn's singing, too. Some of them have already begun speaking to her, gaining strength from her. She may not even know it, but the Santoth believe she has opened doors. It is only a matter of time before things step through those doors into this world. That's why we must go to Acacia, speak to my aunt, let the Santoth study the book, and prepare to face whatever is coming."
Shen exhaled. "I think that's enough for now. Are you ready? It's a long walk."
Kelis could not imagine what to say. Better that he be practical. "We should wake your mother and Naamen."
"She's not going to like this," Shen said, speaking through a crooked grin. She pushed herself to her feet, looking over at her mother's form, wrapped tight in a blanket. "I'll wake her with a kiss. That will be nice, won't it?"
He nodded and watched the girl walk away, again revealing herself to be the child she was, light on her feet and small, so small. But what was in store for her?
A little distance away, Leeka stood immobile, face hidden, though his body turned to follow the child. And a little farther, when Kelis swung his gaze toward them, were the sorcerers, immobile and yet seething with motion, watching them all. Impatient.
C HAPTER
Mena found the note beside her on the bed when she awoke. Seeing the square of paper, she knew exactly what it was, and the knowledge twisted her heart. Melio… It meant he was gone, probably afloat already on one of the early transports sailing from Acacia for the Teh Coast. A cruel trick, for he had given no sign that he would leave her like this when they spoke last night, nor when they made love just hours ago. He had said not a word when she yet again washed herself clean of his seed. Or perhaps he had.
The night before, naked against him, still breathing hard from the conclusion of their lovemaking, she spoke as if it were just another night. True, she did touch on the bizarre realities of their life, but these were topics they turned over many times.
All this that we're doing," she had said, "in so many ways, it feels unreal. I live it, yes. I do it. I slay monsters and ride a winged lizard and lead armies to battle… It's strange, though, when I step back and imagine how others will hear this story. That's what it is, you know? It's a tale from the distant past. It's Edifus and Tinhadin. It's Hauchmeinish. It's the Forms before they were Forms. How is my killing Maeben or slaying the foulthings any more probable than the Priest of Adaval slaying the wolf-headed guards of the rebellious cult of Andar?"
"There were twenty wolf-headed guards, for one thing. You had much safer odds."
Mena nudged him. "Be serious."
"Even if people forget the Priest of Adaval, they will not forget Mena Akaran. Not Maeben. Not the slayer who flies with beauty. Not the warrior princess who beat back the savage Numrek. Such things can't be forgotten."
Had they said more? Yes, she believed they had. Strange, though, that they had managed to speak of mundane things. She had described a dream she had had in her childhood, one in which she and a girl had tried to catch fish with nets. He had claimed he never dreamed, saying life was strange enough for him by far. They had talked nonsense about which were worse, the bites from mosquitoes in Senival or those of the black flies of the Aushenian spring.
At some point, Mena had rolled away from him and, without thought, out of habit, really, went to perform the brief ritual of cleaning her sex and washing away his seed with the herb mixture he so hated. Perhaps it was at that moment that he parted with her. For, when she slipped back into bed, he turned away without comment or protest. His breathing had been steady, though not yet that of sleep, and she had chosen to wrap an arm around him and hook her ankle over his and share the silence. That silence, though, may have been different to him than it was to her.