The Second God (10 page)

“It was not much,” Krant said. He was an odd-looking man, with yellowed skin which made him look sickly, and a high forehead on which his mage mark looked tiny. He seemed pleasant enough, though, and fond of Sallorna. “Personally, I would much rather find a way to make the eagles carry a non-mage passenger. Now that would really be a helpful trick. But a whirlwind has limited application.”

“So whatever created the whirlwind, it was not another natural mage like you, Mother?”

“No. I can’t imagine anyone with so much power over the wind.”

“Well, someone has,” I said.

“Not necessarily,” Cal said. “It could be some automated arrangement left behind by the pre-Catastrophe mages. The Imperial City is full of oddities like that, which are invisible until something sets them off. Or that plant – what is it called?”

“Oh, the one with the exploding seedhead?” I said.

“Yes. You trip over the roots, the seedpods all burst and you get hit by all these tiny stinging seeds. Not lethal to us, but a lot of rodents fall foul of the things.”

“And then it wraps the carcase up in some kind of web. I remember reading about it, but I’ve never seen one.”

“We call it the poisonous star plant,” Ly said quietly. “The seeds are white, so they look like little stars.”

“Ah! Starfall,” Cal said triumphantly. “That’s what it’s called.”

“Nasty!” Sallorna said. “Plants should sit quietly, and not hunt down prey like that.”

Ly was the only one who didn’t laugh. “It is very useful,” he said, his face serious. “The seeds can be cooked to make a cleansing drink, and the webs, stems and leaves all have healing properties. All plants are a gift from the gods.”

“Of course they are, dear,” Mother said, reaching across to pat his hand, then, remembering Ly’s magic, drawing back again. “Would someone pass the pie? I should like a little more.”

“What
I
should like,” Krant said, “is to learn something of this ceremony you are to attend.”

“It’s all very secret,” I said. “I’m not sure how much outsiders are allowed to know.”

“Nothing at all,” Ly said. “I am so sorry, but it is forbidden to speak of the ceremony itself. The candidates try to open the door, that is all I can say about it.”

“We know that much,” Cal said. “There are books that mention it. Although I don’t quite see the point. Why try to find a
byan shar
, when there’s one already?”

Ly smiled. “There is a little more to it than that. No one will be able to open the door, but the Challenge also identifies those with the strongest power. I cannot say any more about it.”

“It’s a pity,” Cal said. “It would be helpful to know more of our nearest neighbours. And I suppose Drina won’t be able to tell us anything, even though she’ll see it all.”

Ly’s face was as open as a book, and the dismay in his expression told me everything.

“Oh, so that’s it, is it?” I said with icy displeasure. “You’ve dragged me all the way up here for this Challenge, and I’m not even allowed to be there with you?”

“I am very sorry, Princess,” Ly whispered.

For a moment, I was tempted to get back on Sunshine first thing tomorrow and go home to Arran. Why was I even here if I couldn’t go to the ceremony? And why was I forbidden?

“But I’m your wife,” I hissed. “Surely I’m allowed to be there with you? And it’s not as if it’s a sacred ritual, like the Blood Ceremony – it’s a celebration, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is, but… you are not quite my wife.”

“
Not quite!
What under the moon is that supposed to mean? We had the hand-fasting ceremony, and you took me to your Clan. Doesn’t that make me a wife?”

“Not exactly. It is hard to explain.”

“Of course it is!” I spat. “Everything about your people is hard to explain, seemingly. But I think you’re going to have to try.”

He sighed. “It is complicated. For marriage between two Clanfolk, hand-bonding is sufficient. For the unblooded – outsiders – something more is needed. Blood-bonding. An exchange of blood.”

That actually made sense, for a change. Exchanging blood would make the outsider part of the Clans, and therefore acceptable. I leaned back in my chair, a little mollified. “Well, that is not so bad, because I already have your blood in me, don’t I? So are we already blood-bonded?”

But his face gave me my answer.

“Oh, for—! Don’t tell me, I know what you’re going to say – it’s hard to explain.”

He smiled, and shook his head. “Ah, Drina! You are heir to the whole of Bennamore, so you are not used to your status being questioned. But so it is. We have not exchanged blood, I have only given you my seed, so we are not blood-bonded. Nor can we be. As
byan shar
, I am not
permitted
to share my blood with an outsider. So to my people we are half-married, if you like, but we cannot be fully married. That is why you are not accepted as my wife.”

It was true that the Clanfolk had never shown me any respect, but then they treated Ly much the same way. I’d always thought it was our age – they revered the elderly and their ancestors, and Ly was not yet thirty, nowhere near his prime. I was happy to wait, assuming it would all come right in the end. But it seemed it would never come right.

“Is that why they are so disrespectful to you?” I said. “Because you have an outsider half-wife?”

“Partly, but also because I am your prisoner. The
byan shar
is a living god, sent to lead his people. He should not be so weak as to allow himself to be captured. Whenever they see me with you, it reminds them of that.”

“So naturally you don’t want me with you at the Challenge,” I said. “I understand.”

“Do you? Truly? If so, I am glad.”

I nodded. “
That
I understand. The half-wife business – pfft! Too strange. But politics is all about appearances. The gods know, I’ve been at Yannassia’s court long enough to appreciate the value of perception and symbolism. So you may go alone, with my goodwill.”

“Thank you, Drina. It is for the best. And you
shall
see it all, I am determined on that. I will stay connected to Diamond, so you may watch everything through my eyes.”

He smiled at me, and I laughed in delight. “Really? Oh, I like that idea! And best of all, your people will never know. What a sneaky man you are, Ly-haam!”

~~~~~

Our suite of rooms at the guest hall didn’t extend to a second bedroom. We dared not share the bed though, in case we accidentally touched. His magic and my need for it would have drawn us together despite our best intentions, and then I’d have drawn all his carefully accumulated magic, leaving him powerless for the ceremony. Too risky.

He found spare blankets in a box, and took them off to the window bay to make a sleeping nest on the floor. He preferred that to the bed anyway, in the Clan manner. I undressed and climbed into bed, sitting propped up with pillows to write my notes to report to Yannassia. But when I’d finished, Ly was standing, still dressed, gazing out of the window. It was almost darkmoon, so there was nothing to be seen out there, although in sunlight there was a view over the roofs to the lake and the sacred island.

“What is it?” I said softly. “Is something wrong?”

He turned then, a smile of pure happiness across his face. “I can hear them,” he said.

“Hear them? Who can you hear?”

“My people. All of them.” He bounded across the room, and jumped up onto the bed, sitting cross-legged at the bottom of it, as far from me as possible. “I can hear everything.”

I put my notebook and pencil on the table beside the bed. “I don’t understand.”

He leaned forward in excitement. “Do you remember something I once told you – that I had the voices of everyone in my head? Everyone who was bonded to a beast of any sort – I could connect with their minds, but I could not
disconnect
. Do you remember?”

That was on my one trip to the Clanlands interior, a long way from the border. There was a vast inland sea there, and Ly had taken me to his own island, and told me a great deal about himself. I’d felt sorry for him then, trapped by his blood magic and the mental connections he couldn’t escape.

“Yes, I remember.”

“The previous times I came to the Challenge, the noise almost drove me mad. So many voices, all talking at once. Can you imagine it? And no escape. But now… now I can shut them out of my head. Out there, on the other side of the lake and on the island, there are many hundreds of my people, and I can hear every one of them, if they are beast-bonded. I can see through their eyes if I want to, as with you. But not all at once. I can pick out one here, one there. I know them all. My mother is arguing with someone right now.” He laughed. “But I can make her vanish from my mind. I am free of her at last.”

“Is this because your magic has changed?” I said.

“That is unexpected, but it must be so.” He laughed again in delight. “This makes me so happy!”

“Then I am happy for you,” I said, and meant it.

But it was disturbing, all the same. So many changes! I’d grown used to shy, nervous Ly; this newly confident man was not someone I knew how to deal with.

~~~~~

For three suns we waited, as the Clans gathered. Ly kept to the bedroom, mostly, not even attending the Kellon at evening board, although he was expected. He spent hours sitting on the floor with his back to the wall, his eyes vacant. Listening, I guessed, or watching. Eavesdropping on his kin as they exchanged news or gossiped.

“Don’t you want to go over there?” I said once, as I brought him a tray of food.

He shook his head, curls bouncing, eyes sparkling with mischief. “No, I am going to surprise them. They are not expecting me, so I intend to make a dramatic entrance.”

But he wouldn’t tell me what he planned to do.

There was an excitement about him that I’d rarely seen. Well, outside the bedroom, anyway. The first time I’d gone to his bed as his wife, he’d quaked from head to toe with nerves and desire. Even now, he was jumpy when the time drew near for his turn with me. But nothing else about our life together sparked so much animation from him. Yet now he burned with anticipation. He could hardly wait to rejoin his people. Fear gnawed at my belly, in case… but I didn’t even know what I was afraid of.

“When do you think you’ll be back… afterwards?” I said diffidently.

“Oh, I cannot say. The ceremony starts at noon, but it goes on into the night – the feasting and so on. It might be close to dawn. I will try not to wake you.”

“I’d rather you did. I want to know you’re home safely.”

“Why would I not be?”

But I couldn’t answer that.

On the appointed sun, he was up early, wearing clothes I’d never seen before – a fine linen shirt so thin it was almost transparent, and a leather jerkin. He looked splendid, or perhaps it was his air of confidence that suited him, rather than the clothes.

“I’ll come up to the roof to see you off,” I said.

“No. Better if you stay here.”

“As you wish.”

He smiled, then, suddenly shy again. “I shall be back tonight, Princess. A few hours only.”

“I know. Go, then. Enjoy yourself.”

He whisked out of the room, and I felt unexpectedly bereft. My eyes filled with tears, and I had to stare out of the window, blinking furiously, until I’d recovered. I wished I could at least have kissed him on his way. Not a single kiss, not a touch since we’d left Kingswell, and I wasn’t used to so many nights alone. If only Arran could have come with us! I missed him so much it was like a pain in my chest.

Mother and Sallorna turned up just after Ly had left me.

“Oh, have we missed him?” Mother said. “I wanted to wish him luck.”

“Krant has been burning spellpages for good fortune,” Sallorna said.

“Much good that will do,” I muttered.

“Don’t be so cynical,” Sallorna said. “Mother helped write them, so you know they’re good.”

“I’m sure they are, but Ly’s people have different gods, and different magic. It seems bizarre to invoke
our
gods and
our
magic on his behalf.”

“The Moon God shines his blessing on everyone,” Mother said. “It can’t hurt, anyway.”

“Can’t it?”

Sallorna wrapped her arms around me. She was taller than me now, as tall as Ly, and no longer the quiet little sister I’d been happy to ignore for so many years. Her training as a scribe, and her pairing with Krant had given her an adult confidence.

“You’re just tetchy because you’re worried about Ly, that’s all,” she said. “You’ll be fine once he’s back.”

“Why should she be worried about Ly?” Mother said, but neither of us answered her.

I stationed myself in my little sitting room in the guest hall, where I could sit quietly and connect to Ly’s mind. Sallorna fussed about arranging chairs, dispatching servants for food and drink, and shooing away the hovering waiting women. My bodyguard stood beside the door. Then we settled ourselves to wait, as I looked through Ly’s eyes.

He was on the roof, near the eagles. I was aware of Diamond, and also Sunshine, both of them excited and happy to see Ly, screeching and flapping. He must have done something to calm them, though, for both of them became more settled after a while. Several other eagles were visible nearby.

At first Ly did nothing, just waiting. Probably he was connecting to people on the island, although whether he was talking to them, or listening or just watching was impossible for me to tell. Then, abruptly, he strode across to Diamond, the bird crouched and Ly mounted in one fluid motion. Almost without pause they were airborne, the great wings straining for height, circling above the little town and rising up and up.

But Diamond was not alone. Sunshine was there too, and several more birds. And as I watched, dark specks rose from the island and the far shore of the lake – more birds come to join Ly. Diamond rose majestically higher, and as he slowly spiralled away from the rooftops, the little escort grew and grew to become a cloud of birds in orbit around Ly. Eagles and other great birds, white and red-brown and golden. He had summoned them to accompany him for his dramatic entrance, no doubt.

When the sky was half blotted out by the great beasts, Ly turned towards the island. It was no more than a gentle glide towards the dark shape across the lake, cloaked by trees. As Ly drew near, the trees separated to reveal the black stone tower of the scribery and the gardens surrounding it. On the rare occasions when I’d visited the island, it had been deserted, an unsettling place with wisps of ancient magic clinging to it. Now it was filled with people in their festive colours, with smoke rising from roasting pits, and a buzz of noise and laughter. The midsummer light cast a benign glow.

As Ly and Diamond approached, I could see hundreds of pale faces upturned to watch their arrival. Near the scribery was an open space, a square of green free of people or impediments, and the eagle spun on a wingtip to land in the middle of it. Above, I caught glimpses of the mass of escorting birds circling the square, but not landing. Ly slid gracefully from Diamond’s back and the bird beat his wings to take off again. Ly raised his hand in salute, and as he lifted his face, I had a clear view of the circling birds retreating. A dramatic entrance indeed.

But he was not yet done. From behind the crowds watching Ly came a great roaring. People jumped aside in alarm as great golden beasts leapt past them, or even over them. Lions, but larger by far even than the massive creatures of the Plains of Kallanash. I counted six – ten – no, a score or more, circling Ly, emitting deafening roars. None had riders on their backs. He stood calmly in the centre, not moving, not afraid. Of course he wasn’t afraid, he was controlling them. My heart was thundering, and I wasn’t even there, but his mind was as relaxed as if he was alone.

As one, the lions all turned and circled in the opposite direction, still roaring. Ly raised one arm, the lions stood still, facing him, silent. Then every one of them sank onto their knees to him. As a demonstration of his power, it was superb. I shivered with awe – and fear, too. This was not Ly-haam, the timid, uncertain boy I remembered, nor the peaceable, subservient husband. This was the
byan shar
, imbued with all the majesty of his ancestors, chosen by the gods to lead his people to whatever destiny he desired.