[Lanen Kaelar 03] - Redeeming the Lost (9 page)

I had never seen Idai so angry, and in that
moment I was sincerely grateful that I had followed my own deepest instincts
and had kept on her good side ever since she was the merest youngling. To speak
truly I do not know what would have happened had not Varien walked up to put
his hand on her forearm.

“Idai, my friend, it is enough,” he said
gently. “Let him go. We are unharmed, all is well. Let him go.”

Varien s voice shook me out of my
self-indulgent anger. I stood back and let go of Rinshir. I don’t think I have
ever seen him move so quickry. I turned to Shikrar, who stood beside me, and
winked. Just as well he should never know how near I had come to murdering
Rinshir for even thinking of putting Akhor in danger.

“A moment, if you please,” said a voice from
near the ground. The Gedri woman, who had very sensibly moved away while I

was instructing Rinshir, had returned, and now
she laid her hand on my forearm as Varien had. “I have you to thank for my
life,” she said simply. “I am deeply in your debt.”

Varien stepped forward and stood beside her. “As
am I, Idai. As ever. Again.”

I hissed my amusement. “It was worth it to see
Rinshir’s Attitude change. From fury to absolute terror in a single moment.
Most satisfying.” I glanced down at the Gedri woman, then to Varien as I said, “And
now, if ybu please, Maran of Besskin, you will tell us what it is about you
that so reeks of our life-enemies.”

“I’ve been using the Farseer to keep up with
Lanen,” she said simply. “Whenever I use it the stink wears off on me. I must
be overdue to make my devotions to the Lady. I never meant to set everyone off.
Seems you folk are a lot more sensitive to it than we are.” She scrubbed at her
face with both hands. ‘The damned things barely worth the bother of keeping,
when all’s done,” she said wearily, “but as long as I have it, Berys can’t
bloody well make another one. That’s the only reason I didn’t smash it twenty
years ago—though I’d never have found you in time if I had.” She paused for a
moment. “Do you have the first idea where Lanen is?”

“No,” said Varien cautiously, “though one of
our number has gone to seek her in Verfaren.”

“Thank the Goddess,” she said, and unfamiliar
as I was with Gedri faces, even I could recognise the relief in her voice. “It’s
Jamie, isn’t it?’ It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” said Rella, speaking quietly as she
appeared behind Maran. “Well-met, my friend,” she said, nodding to the
newcomer. “Jamie’s gone after her.”

“Blessed Mother Shia, we might have a chance
yet,” Maran replied, but before she could say more I heard Kedra’s voice
calling out to us all. At least he sounded pleased.

Kedra and Will returned at just that moment
and provided a much-needed distraction. The sounds at the edge of hearing were
growing noticeably louder. I could nearly make out words. And it seemed to be
coming from somewhere near at hand.

While he was still high up and a little way
distant, Kedra called aloud to us all on the ground, “All is well! We have
food, my friends, and water in abundance, and a place to rest as long as we
need it!” Kedra landed awkwardly, allowing Will to drop just the little
distance from his hands as he backwinged frantically. As Will picked himself up
and brushed the earth from his clothing, I bespoke my son.

“Kedra, how fare you? Is it well, truly?”

“It is very well, my father,” he replied
aloud, though his eyes were troubled. “I must speak with you soon, Father,” he
said in tightly focussed truespeech, then continued aloud, “Farmer Timeth is
presendy recovering from the acquisition of sudden wealth, but his kine are
healthy, his water is good, and his farm backs up to a high rock wall to the
north, under the shelter of which there is room for us all.”

“Blessed be the Winds,” I murmured. “Good news
at last.”

Mirazhe came to join us then, her tiny
youngling Sher6k awake now and riding between her wings. He looked so terribly
small and fragile. When I frowned a litde at Mirazhe and opened my mouth, she
hissed a laugh and said, “Fear not, Hadreshikrar. Your son’s son is perfectly
safe, and the soulgems of the Lost are in Gyrentikh’s keeping.”

I shut my mouth with a snap and turned my head
away briefly in embarrassment as Kedra and Mirazhe laughed. “Am I so
transparent, my daughter?”

She replied, her eyes dancing, “You are, my
father. But none the less valued for that.”

Sherok, for his part, was delighted with the
view despite the hunger that he was broadcasting in waves. Kedra greeted his
son by touching his soulgem to the raised spot on Sherok’s faceplate where his
soulgem would eventually break through, and Sherok’s thoughts turned from
hunger to joy in the instant. The wash of his pleasure at seeing his father
again was as the dawning of a second sun to my weary soul, and I stood and
called to the
Kantri, aloud and in
truespeech, telling them Kedra’s news.

“It is nearby, dear heart,” muttered K6dra to
Mirazhe. “I have not eaten, but it will not be long now.” Indeed, most of the
Kantri were preparing to depart when Vilkas came running up to me.

“Lord Shikrar, please, you must not let them
eat right away!” he cried, a little out of breath. “Will told me what you were
doing, but you must listen. Don’t let them eat at first! Start by drinking. And
when you kil the catde, start by drinking the blood.”

I stared at him. “Surely how we eat is no
concern of yours,” I said, annoyed at his tone of command.

“Please, I beg you, listen to me. Your bodies
are very similar to ours, I saw the results of fatigue in your blood and
muscle. Just exactly like us. And I tell you, if you eat meat too quickly after
such desperate exhaustion and hunger, you could die of it. Even water is not
the best. Blood has salt and enough sugar to help you back to enough strength
to eat. Drink the blood, I pray you, and wait an hour until you are recovered.
Then drink water, slowly, and very small amounts of food at first—that is the
most important. Eat much less than you want, lest your hearts stop from the
shock.”

“We have managed to five so long without your
assistance, Master Vilkas,” I said dryly. “I thank you for your concern, but—”

“Shikrar, didn’t you tell me once that some of
the Ancestors died when they reached the Isle of Exile?” asked Varien quietly.

“Yes, the greedy ones who gorged themselves on
the few large creatures who lived on the island, and left the rest to—oh.”

I closed my eyes and sighed. When I opened
them again, I bowed to Vilkas, to his great surprise. “Master Vilkas, forgive
my foolishness. We will do as you have asked.”

Vilkas nodded to me, an attenuated bow, and
strode back to where Mistress Aral spoke with Will. I called out in truespeech
to all the Kantri, who, groaning and complaining, nevertheless began to rise
and flex stiff wings. I took a moment to bespeak Kedra.

“What did you need to say to me, my son?” I
asked, but he did not answer immediately.

I was just as glad, for the murmur in my head
was growing now with every breath. I listened again—nothing distinct yet—and
shook my head to clear it. And watched my son do precisely the same thing.

“Kedra, do you hear this whispering?” I asked
urgently.

“Nearly shouting now,” he replied, frustrated.
“But I can’t make out the words. Have you the faintest idea what it is or where
it is comingfrom?”

“Not the least” I began, but I was interrupted
by a loud mind-voice under very poor control.

“The Hollow Ones have risen! Be ‘ware, my
elders, the Hollow Ones follow me close!”

We all, every Kantri on live, looked up into
the western sky. Salera was flying on the Winds’ wings, desperately powering
ahead of a great cloud of… of…

Of the Lesser Kindred. But as they drew
nearer, I could see that these were the Lesser Kindred as we had known them of
old, as our Ancestors spoke of them: no soulgems, no sign of intellect, no
spark at all. They appeared to be mobbing Salera as crows will mob a hawk, but
when she flew past at speed and just as I was preparing to fly to her aid, they
all came to land. There must have been nearly two hundred of them, all dark of
hue like rusted iron, falling clumsily to earth in a great crowd. The Kantri,
now fully roused, surrounded them—but even so I was not prepared.

Gyrentikh let out a great shout. “Shikrar!
Shikrar, quickly, here!”

I leapt into the air, blessing the work of
Vilkas and Aral as I climbed just a few tens of feet that I might see
Gyrentikh. I might have saved myself the effort. He was at the center of a
circle of the strange creatures. None came closer than one of their own body
lengths, but every pair of dull eyes was focussed unblinking on—Gyrentikh?

No. On that which he guarded.

I backwinged in shock, fool that I was,
stalled, and fell to the ground. I hadn’t done that since before I had seen
seventy winters.

“Shikrar!” cried Varien. “Shikrar, what—”

“The Lost. The soulgems of the Lost!” I
shouted, climbing to my feet. “That’s why they’re here.” I stood now beside
Gyrentikh, facing all those desperately intent beasts, and I shook to my bones.
“Name of the Winds, Akhor. What are we to do?”

I found that I was shouting, for the
whispering was turned now to yells, and it was coming from the golden cask over
which Gyrentikh still bravely stood guard.

I could hear words now. Cursing, screaming,
wordless shouts, and one cry repeated over and over.

“LET US OUT! LET US OUT! LET US OUT!”

I hadn’t the faintest idea what was going on.
I was about to try to push my way into the midst of that unnatural crowd when
Salera came running up, Will trailing behind her.

“Lord, these are the Hollow Ones!” cried
Salera, terribly distressed. “They have our shape but they are beasts. They
know neither speech nor reason. Beware, they have killed our kind before!”

“Whence came they?’ I asked. “Quickly, Salera!”

“I was following Lord Kedra when several of my
people hailed me,” she said rapidly. “I had only begun to speak to them of true-speech
when we all became aware of a terrible darkness below. We have had to fly from
the Hollow Ones before, but only ever in ones and twos. This—this is very
wrong.” She shivered. “We all chose different directions and scattered, but the
Hollow Ones followed me. I thought my death had chosen me. What is it they
seek, Lord? What has called them here?”

“The soulgems of the Lost, it seems. Why, I
have no idea.”

Maran strode up, her pack on her back, Rella,
ViL and Aral behind her. Maran’s eyes were fixed on the dark agitated crowd of
the Hollow Ones. There was now a great fluttering of wings among them, that in
the Kantri denotes rising anger.

“What in all the Hells is this about?” asked
Maran quietly.

I opened my mind to bespeak Shikrar and
staggered from the noise.

“LET US OUT!”

I could bear the shouting in my mind no
longer. I could think of nothing else to do, so I picked up the golden cask
that contained the soulgems of the Lost. Instantly there was silence, from the
beasts and in my head.

“Go, Gyrentikh,” I commanded him quietly. ‘They
are not come for you.” He walked slowly through the beasts, who ignored him,
while I tried desperately to think.

When one of the Kantri dies, the soulgem
remains. It shrinks to half its size in life and is preserved with all honour
in the Chamber of Souls, in appearance like a great gem. These gems are dark
until the Keeper of Souls has cause to summon an Ancestor. At such times, the
soulgem of the particular Ancestor will glow gently as it did in life, until the
Summoning is over.

When last the Kantri lived in Kolmar, five
thousand years before, a great and nameless Demonlord had arisen. In the
terrible battle that ended in his death, we found to our despair that he had
learned how to destroy us. A single word, a single gesture from the Nameless
One, and one of the Kantri would fall from the sky: they dwindled to the size
of younglings and their soulgems were ripped from them. Even after the
Demonlord was dead, we could find no way to restore those who had been defiled.
They were become as beasts, and their soulgems never turned dull as with
deatli—ever they flickered, neither alive nor dead. We came to call them, our
family, our dear friends now taken, the Lost. That we might not take our
revenge from the innocent Gedri who remained, we flew west, to the Isle of
Exile, taking with us the soulgems. None now lived, or had for three and a half
thousand years, who had known any of the Lost in life. Since the day it
happened we had tried to restore the Lost, to no avail.

I had no idea what was happening now or why,
but in the silence of my heart I was forced to admit that there was nothing to
lose.

I lifted the cask high and with one talon
incised a circle in the top of the golden cask in which we had carried the
soulgems with us across the Great Sea. I gently removed the circle and dropped
it in the grass.