The waters of the little river were ice-cold, swift. Tavi's mouth went numb the moment Kord pushed his head into the water, and his ears tingled and burned with sensation. Tavi struggled, but the Steadholder's grip was too strong, fingers tangled tightly in Tavi's hair. His greasy Steadholder's chain thumped against Tavi's shoulders. Kord pressed down brutally, and Tavi felt his face mash up against the rocks at the bottom of the river.
And then that inexorable pressure vanished. Tavi felt himself hauled back, by the hair, and thrown through the air to land upon the ground many feet away. He came down upon something warm and living, that proved to be a dazed Fade. Tavi lifted his head, blinking water from his eyes, toward Kord, but someone moved between them, blocking his view.
"Uncle!" Tavi said.
Bernard said, "Get Fade up and get him out of here, Tavi."
Tavi scrambled to his feet, hauling Fade up with him, and swallowed. "What are we going to do?"
"Get clear. I'll handle things here," Bernard said. Then he turned his back to Tavi, keeping himself between Kord and his nephew. "This time, Kord, you've gone too far."
"Three of us," Kord growled, as his sons took up a position on either side of him. "And one of you. Plus the fool and the freak, of course. I'd say that you're the one who has his neck stuck out, Bernard."
The ground in front of Kord rumbled, shifting, and the thing that hauled itself up out of the earth, its hide and limbs all of stone, looked like nothing that Tavi had ever seen. It had the long body of a slive, but its tail curled up over its back, held in the air like a club. Its mouth was hideously elongated and filled with flint-sharp jags of teeth. As Tavi watched, it twisted its head to one side, opened its jaws, and let out a granite-deep, rumbling growl.
Beside Kord, Bittan took the cover from a ceramic firepot. Red flames licked up from it as he did, and they curled into the shape of a reared serpent, hovering and ready to strike, flaming eyes bright. The tall and slender Aric, on Kord's other side, steepled his fingers together and wind and bits of bracken swirled around him, casting back his cloak in a shape vaguely like great wings.
"Don't do this, Kord," Bernard said. The ground beside him stirred, and then Brutus thrust his way up out of the soil, until the rocky hound's broad head rested beneath Bernard's hand, emerald eyes focused on the Kordholters. Brutus gave his great shoulders a shake, sending earth and small stones skittering down off of his flanks in a miniature avalanche. Tavi saw Bittan blanch and take a small step back. "You're digging yourself deeper into your own grave."
"Trying to take my land," Kord spat, "from me and my family. What gives you the right?"
Bernard let out his breath in a sigh, glancing upward for a moment. "Don't play righteous with me, slaver. The storm's almost here, Kord. Last chance. If you back down, right now, you get to live to face Gram's justice instead of mine."
Kord's eyes flashed. "I'm a Citizen, Bernard. You can't just kill a Citizen."
"That's on your lands," Bernard said. "We're on mine."
Kord's face went white. "You self-righteous bastard," he hissed. He threw his hands forward and screamed, "I'll feed you to the crows!"
The stone beast before him lurched forward across the stony ground, lizard-quick. Even as it did, something lashed out from Aric, the blurred shape vaguely reminiscent of a bird of prey as it sped toward Bernard. Bittan hurled his firepot down into the nearest brush, and even damp, the wood went up in a sudden blaze, the flame-serpent within it swelling to twenty times its previous size in the space of a long breath.
Bernard moved quickly. He threw his hand toward Aric's attacking fury, scattering a fistful of salt crystals through the air. A whistling shriek went up from the air before him, even as Brutus lunged forward, clashing against Kord's fury with a shockingly loud crunch of impact. Both furies blended
into a mound of stone that sank into the earth, where the surface of the ground twitched and bulged, where the Steadholders' furies battled out of sight beneath it.
Kord let out a bellow and came for Bernard. Tavi's uncle hefted his axe and swiped it at the other Steadholder. Kord threw himself back and to one side, and Bernard followed him, lifting the axe for another strike.
Tavi saw Aric draw a knife from his belt and head for Bernard's back. "Uncle!" he shouted. "Behind you!"
And then a column of wind so furious and strong that it almost seemed a solid mass hammered down into Aric's back, throwing him hard against the earth. The young man let out a choked cry and began to rise, but from the dark sky above, Amara dropped onto his back, her stolen clothes flapping wildly in the sudden wind. Aric had time to let out a strangled shout, and the winds gathered around the pair of them in a sudden shriek of sound. Tavi saw Amara's arm lock beneath Aric's chin, and then the pair of them were rolling around on the ground, Aric struggling to dislodge the girl from his back.
Tavi turned in time to see Kord strike his uncle's arm, knocking the axe from his hand. The weapon tumbled end over end and vanished into the water of the river. Bernard didn't waste a moment, but threw his balled fist into Kord's ribs, a blow that lifted the other man from the ground and sent him tumbling. Bernard pursued him, but Kord rose up again with fury-born fortitude, and the two met in a close grapple, the earth quivering and shaking beneath them.
Light and heat fell on Tavi from one side, and he turned to see Bittan standing before a blazing column of brush. "Well, well," Bittan glowered. "Looks like that leaves me to take care of you." Bittan raised his arms with an ecstatic cry, and brought them down again. The flames leapt up into a pillar that fell, swift and bright and horrible, toward Tavi and Fade.
Tavi let out a yelp and dragged the slave to one side with him. Flame washed against the earth like water, sparks and smoke billowing out from it, heat rushing through the night. Tavi smelled burnt hair, and, regaining his feet, tugged Fade with him toward the water of the river. "Fade," he gasped. "Fade, come on. Come on."
Bittan's laughter rang out harsh in the ruddy light. The fallen column of fire danced and writhed over the ground like an enormous serpent, snaking its way between Tavi and the dubious shelter of the river's chilly
waters. The fire leapt from bush to bush and tree to tree behind Bittan, growing, its crackling growl increasing to a sullen roar.
"Bittan!" Tavi shouted. "It's getting away from you! You'll kill us all!"
"I don't think you're in a position to lecture me on furycrafting, freak!" Bittan called. He turned to the burning brush beside him, scooped up a handful of blazing material, and hurled it at Tavi. Tavi threw up his cloak against it, softening the impact of the burning brush, but little licks of fire clung to the cloth. He beat at them frantically.
"I just can't decide," Bittan yelled, his voice jeering. "Whether you should smother or burn!"
Fade, the unmarred side of his face swollen and already purple with bruising, finally began to support most of his own weight, blinking his eyes around him in confusion. He pawed at Tavi's cloak, making little mewling sounds, his eyes sweeping around them, around the flames.
"I have an idea," Bittan said. "How about I fry the simpleton first! Then I can move on to you, freak." He gestured with a hand, and from within the flames, that same serpent-shape coalesced. It writhed for a moment, curling-and then shot toward Fade's chest like a streak of sunlight.
Fade let out a yelp and, with more speed than Tavi would have credited to the slave, he leapt aside, blundering into Tavi. The slave's momentum carried them both toward the fiery barrier between them and the water, tumbling over one another. Fade's back rolled against the ground as they went through the fire, and the slave let out a shriek of pain, clutching tightly to Tavi. The boy struggled to free himself, they both toppled into the Rillwater.
"No!" Bittan shouted. He strode unharmed through the fires and down to the water's edge. He lifted his arms again and sent another tendril of flame racing toward them. Tavi threw himself back against Fade, knocking them both under the water's surface. Fire splashed across the top of the water, a distant roar and a violent light above them.
Tavi stayed under the water's surface for as long as he could, but he could hold his breath for no more than a few seconds. He hadn't had a chance to get a proper breath before diving, and the water was simply too cold. He struggled further away from the near shore and Bittan's raging fury, before he broke the surface, coughing and spluttering. He hauled Fade along with him, more or less by main strength, afraid that the panicked slave might drown himself before realizing that the water wasn't deep enough.
Bittan stood at the very edge of the water and let out a shout of
frustration. The flames behind him leapt skyward as he did. "You gutless, crow-eaten little freak! I'll burn you and that gibbering fool to cinders!"
Tavi clutched at the floor of the river beneath him and seized up a stone the size of his fist. "You leave him alone!" he shouted, and flung the stone at Bittan.
It flashed across the intervening space and struck the bigger boy in the mouth. Bittan flinched back, letting out a yowl, and tumbled backward to the ground.
"Uncle!" Tavi shouted. "Uncle, we're in the water!"
Through a roil of smoke, Tavi saw his uncle draw back a fist and ram it hard into Kord's throat. The other Steadholder stumbled back with a choked shout, but didn't lose his grip on Bernard's tunic, dragging him down with him and out of Tavi's sight.
Not far away, Amara rose away from an unmoving Aric, wincing and holding one forearm, where blood wetted her sleeve. Aric's knife, it seemed, had scored on her, even if it hadn't kept her from throttling him. She looked around and shouted, through the smoke, "Tavi! Get out of the water! Don't stop in there, get out!"
"What?" Tavi shouted. "Why?"
He had no warning at all. Wet, supple arms abruptly twined around his throat, and a throaty, feminine voice purred, in his ear, "Because bad things can happen to pretty little boys who fall into the river." Tavi started to turn, to struggle, but he was hauled beneath the river's surface with breathless speed, and the arms at his throat tightened. Tavi tried to plant his feet on the river's bed, to force his head up above the water, but somehow his feet never found purchase, as though the river's bed had been coated with slime wherever his feet touched, so that they forever slipped and slid aside.
"Poor pretty," the voice at his ear murmured, perfectly clear. He could feel the press of a strong but shapely body against his back. "It isn't your fault that you saw what wasn't to be seen. It's a shame to kill a pretty one, but if you'll just lay quietly and take a deep breath it will be over soon, and you'll still be pretty when they put you in a box. I promise."
Tavi struggled and writhed, but it was useless against the soft, subtle strength of that grip. He could have wrestled her all day and never gained the upper hand, he knew: She was a watercrafter, like his aunt, and a strong one at that, and the waters of the river itself were being used against him.
Tavi stopped struggling, which made his assailant let out a soft, approving
murmur. Cold lips pressed against his ear. He was starting to grow dizzy, but his mind raced furiously. If she was a watercrafter like his aunt, then she would have the same problems Aunt Isana did. For all the advantages watercrafters enjoyed, they had to put up with more than almost any other craft, the disruption that their extra senses picked up from other people- emotions, impressions, feelings.
Tavi focused for a moment on his own helpless, fluttering fear, terror that made his heart race, stole the dregs of air remaining in his lungs ever more quickly away from him, brought him that much closer to drowning. He dwelt on that terror, let it build in him, and added to it the frustrations of the day, the despair and fury and hopelessness he had felt upon returning to Bernard-holt. Every emotion built on the next, and he fed them all with a frantic fury, until he could scarcely remember what his plan had been to begin with.
"What are you doing?" hissed the woman that held him, threads of uncertainty lacing through the throaty assurance of her voice. "Stop it. Sto-p it. You're too loud. I hate for it to be too loud!"
Tavi struggled uselessly against her, panic now overwhelming him in fact as well, blind and numbing fear blending in with all the other emotions. The woman let out a shriek and curled away from him, releasing him and wrapping her arms around her own head.
Tavi choked, his lungs expelling whatever was left in them as he struggled toward the surface. He only just managed to get his head out of water, to take a single deep, gasping breath, before the water itself bubbled up around him, sudden and enveloping, and dragged him back under.
"Clever boy," hissed the woman, and Tavi could see her now in the reflected light from the fires on the bank, a beautiful woman of dark hair and eyes, body lushly curved and inviting. "Very clever. So passionate. Now I can't hold you while you go. I wanted to do that much for you. But some people are never grateful." Water pressed about him, as strong and as heavy as leather bonds, pressure that shoved his limbs together, wrapped him up like a parcel of bread. Terrified, he struggled to hold on to that last breath for as long as he could.
The woman remained before him, eyes narrowed spitefully. "Foolish. I was going to give you the raptures. Now I think I'll just break that pretty neck." She flipped a wrist, the gesture dainty, but the water around Tavi suddenly slewed around his head and began twisting his jaw slowly to one side. Tavi struggled against it, but the water seemed just a little bit stronger than
he. The pressure on his neck swiftly built and became painful. The woman came closer, eyes round and bright, watching.
She didn't see the sudden motion in the water behind her, but Tavi saw his Aunt Isana's hand come out of the murk. One hand seized the woman by the hair, and the other raked abruptly across her eyes. Pink tinged the water, and the woman let out a sudden, piteous shriek. Isana appeared more fully, thrusting both hands toward the woman, palms out, and she suddenly flew through the water, and then up and out of it, as though hauled away by a giant hand.
As soon as the woman sailed up and out of the Rillwater, the pressure on Tavi's neck eased, and he found himself able to move his limbs. Isana moved to him, and together they broke the surface of the river, Tavi gasping and choking.
"My river," Isana snarled after the departed water witch. Isana called to Fade, who lunged through the water to Tavi. The slave drew one of Tavi's arms around his shoulders, holding the boy up and out of the water.
Tavi stared at his aunt's hand, where the nails seemed to have grown to twice their usual length, like shining-edged claws. Isana took note of his glance and gave her hand a shake, as though relaxing muscles cramped from sewing. Once, twice, and the nails appeared as they always had, practically short and neatly groomed-but stained with spots of blood. Tavi shivered.
"Get him to the far shore," Isana instructed. "There are two more out here, and matters aren't settled between Kord and Bernard as yet. Tavi, get through the woods. When the storm comes, you'll be safe for a time."
Bittan, bloody-mouthed, appeared on the shore. "You barren witch!" he howled at Isana. He gestured, and fire leapt toward them.
Isana rolled her eyes and flipped a hand toward Bittan. A wave rose to meet the flames, drowning them and continued forward to clutch at the young man's feet, washing them out from under him. He went down with a yelp, spluttering, and scrambled back away from the shore.
"Get through the woods," Isana continued. "Get to Aldoholt, by the lake. I'll have word to him by then, and he'll either get you to Gram or get Gram to you. He'll protect you until then. Do you understand, Tavi?"
"Yes, ma'am," Tavi gasped. "But-"
She leaned into him and pressed a kiss against his forehead. "I'm sorry, Tavi, so sorry. There's no time for questions now. You must trust me. I love you."
"I love you, too," Tavi said.
Isana turned her head, and the fires spreading on shore reflected in her eyes. "It's spreading. And the storm is nearly here. I have to call down Nereus, or Lilvia will whip those fires until they devour the Valley." She looked back to them and said, "Tavi, get away from the river. As far away as you can. Head uphill. Take Fade with you, and keep a close eye on him-I don't know what made you bring him along." She shot a glance past Tavi to the slave, who offered a witless smile to Isana and ducked his head.
She shook hers in response, kissed Tavi's head again, and said, "Go, quickly." And with that, she turned and vanished down into the waters of the river again.
Tavi swallowed and tried to help Fade, as the slave moved out of the river to the far side and up onto the shore. Tavi looked back as he moved out of the water.
Kord lay on the ground, curled onto his side, weakly struggling to get back to his feet. Bernard, his face bruised and his tunic torn, stood with Amara at the white rock of the ford, their backs to Tavi, facing the woods.
From the smoke and the shadows of the trees there limped a man, middle-aged, barefoot, and of innocuous height. He swept his eyes around the fire-lit stream and then focused on the two people standing at the ford, then past them. Tavi felt the man's eyes touch on him like cold, smooth stones, calmly weighing him, assessing him, dismissing him. The man lifted a hand, and Tavi heard the tree nearest him buck and tremble, and he turned in time to see it pitch forward toward him.
Bernard's head whipped around, and he raised a fist. As swiftly as the first, a second tree uprooted itself and toppled, landing hard against the first, so that the two fell against one another, each supporting the other from falling, while Tavi and Fade stood trembling in the arched space beneath them.
"Impressive," the man said. He focused on Bernard, and abruptly a wave of earth lashed out toward Tavi's uncle. Bernard planted his feet on the ground, teeth bared in a grimace, and a second wave rose in front of him, gathered momentum toward the stranger's attack. Bernard's efforts were evidently not enough. The ripple in the rock tore through his own efforts and ripped apart the ground he and Amara stood upon, sending them both toppling.
Tavi cried out, for even as his uncle fell, the stranger drew from beneath his cloak a short and heavily curved bow. He set an arrow to the string and
drew with a cool precision. The shaft leapt across the stream, toward Tavi.
From the ground, Amara cried out and slashed her hand at the air. The arrow flicked itself abruptly aside and rattled into the woods behind Tavi.
The man let out a short, frustrated noise and said, "Pointless. Kill them."
From behind him stepped the man Tavi had seen earlier, sword again in hand, quietly lethal intent in his eyes. The swordsman glided forward, toward Amara and his uncle, the blade catching the scarlet light of the fires raging around.
Kord had regained mobility and hauled himself to one side. He roused Aric with a few kicks and started to fall back into the woods, letting his son scramble after him as he tried to regain his senses. But even as Kord left, there was a rattle in the blazing brush, and Bittan backed out of the middle of a blaze, blinded and choking on the smoke. He waved a hand before his face and found himself standing a few scant feet from the swordsman, between the man and Bernard.
Tavi never even saw the swordsman's arm move. There was a hissing sound, and Bittan let out a surprised choke, and fell to his knees. The swordsman moved past the boy. Tavi saw scarlet puddling around Bittan's knees, and the boy fell limply over onto his side.
Tavi felt his gorge rise in his belly. Fade let out a hiss of breath and clutched at Tavi's arm.
"Bittan," Aric choked. "No."
For a moment, that tableau held, the boy on the ground in a pool of his own blood, scarlet firelight all around, the swordsman, blade extended to his side, moving with patient grace toward the people standing between him and Tavi.
Then everything happened at once.
Kord let out a bellow of raw and indiscriminate rage. The earth rippled around him and lashed out toward the swordsman.
Amara came to her feet, her blade in hand. She threw herself forward even as the swordsman's blade descended toward Bernard, intercepting it. The earth heaved and threw them both to one side, locked together in a close-quarters struggle.
The innocuous looking man extended his hands toward the far side of the river, and the trees groaned in response, the air filling with the twist and crackle of branches, of movement.
And the storm arrived.
One moment, there was relative stillness-and the next, a wall of fury and sound and power thundered down over them, engulfed Tavi's senses, blinded him, and whipped the surface of the river to icy foam. The flames Bittan had started buckled for a moment beneath the wind's onslaught, and then, as though the storm had sensed their potential, they blossomed and bloomed, spreading and growing with a speed as terrifying as it was amazing. To Tavi, it almost seemed as though faces gibbered and shrieked in the wind around those flames, calling them, encouraging them.
Fade let out a squeal, cowering down against the winds, and Tavi abruptly remembered his aunt's commands. He seized the slave by the arm, though still terrified for those behind him at the ford, and dragged him into the twisting woods, along the paths he knew, even in the semidarkness, away from the river.
They struggled forward together, holding one another in the screaming, frigid gale, Tavi filled with a sense of gratitude that there was another living human being there to touch. He was unsure for how long they struggled away, their path winding forward and then slowly uphill, before he heard the flood waters.
They rushed forward, nearly silent, preceded only by a whispering sigh and the groans of a thousand trees stirred in their ancient earthy beds. To the top of a hill, Tavi and Fade struggled, and he turned back to see, dimly through the ferocity of the storm, the dancing of the trees, that some pent-up tide had been loosed from up the stream of the Rillwater. The little river had exceeded itself and flooded its banks, and those cold, silent waters began to swallow Bittan's fires as swiftly as they had spread. The waters rose, and in that screaming cyclone of the furystorm, Tavi was uncertain how anyone, even his aunt, could survive such an onslaught of the elements. Terror rushed through him, pounded through his veins with his blood.
Darkness swallowed the land as the silent waters of the flooding river swallowed errant flame, and in moments the werelightning of the furystorm flashed, green and eerie, to show Tavi which way to go. In silence, he turned back to his path and stumbled forward, leading Fade. Twice, windmanes swept toward them, but Tavi's salt crystals, though partly dissolved from their time in the water, drove them away.
They made their way from the twisting wood an endless time later. Fade let out a sudden yelp and threw himself against Tavi with a sob of fear, forcing the boy down, the slave's heavy body atop him.
Tavi wriggled and struggled to get out from under Fade, but only managed to free his head enough to crane his neck over the man and to see what had frightened him.
Around them stood a silent half-circle of Marat warriors, unmistakable with their pale braids and powerful bodies clad, even in this vicious weather, only in a brief cloth at the hips. Each of them stood very tall and more broad in the shoulders than Tavi could easily believe, with dark, serious eyes the same shade as the chipped stone tipping their broad-hafted spears.
Without expression, the tallest of the Marat stepped closer. He put his foot on Tavi's shoulder and rested the tip of his spear against the hollow of Tavi's throat.