The Bone Mask Trilogy: (An Epic Fantasy Boxed Set), page 7
Driving himself too hard was not the right way.
Outside, the wind flung sand. He turned his back on it to collapse and repack his tent. Once set, he shielded his eyes with his hand and turned a slow circle. The horizon was clear, no chance of a sand storm yet. But the wind would be lashing his side as he approached the oasis. He pulled a blindfold out, wrapping it only once, and trudged on, cloak clinging to his legs.
When he finally crested a long dune, aflame in the setting sun, the wind had died down. The passage of countless feet converged at a point below, where low buildings spread around a glittering oasis. Partially screened by the ridge of a long, crumbling mountain range, faint lines of bluish smoke rose from the mud brick buildings on the north end of the oasis, heading for the scuffs of clouds. Scattered along the water’s edge were larger tents and tiny cook-fires. At the south end of the oasis were yet more tents, these of a different colour, Sand-Snakes visiting from the Southern Oasis.
Ain paused his descent. The snakes were early. Had Majid’s departure been brought forward? He ran to the bottom of the dune, leaping over small green plants that dotted the hardened earth, whose stones separated sand from water.
“Ho, Ain, slow down,” a voice cried.
A white-haired warrior emerged from peach trees at the water’s edge, waving his arms. Ain changed course slightly, and within moments stood panting beside the old man, whose muscled arms had come to rest on his hips. Jedda stood smiling through his white beard, long knife belted over his sleeveless tunic. A bow and quiver were slung over one shoulder. He enfolded Ain in a gruff hug then set him down.
“You’ve fared well, Ain – a Pathfinder in the eyes of all. Youngest in many decades.” The man beamed.
He flushed, but couldn’t prevent a smile. “Thank you, Jedda.”
“Ha! Don’t attempt modesty, what of your boast to me before you left?”
“Well, I was a child then. I am a man now.”
“Ah.”
“And I wasn’t as fast as Majid.”
“A week is very fast, and you are here,” Jedda said, placing a hand on his shoulder. He glanced to Ain’s belt. “As cannot be said for all. You found a Pathfinder?”
“Near a day from the Cloud. I guess the sands had moved? I performed the ritual and took a piece of his cloak.” He handed it to Jedda. “I hope that was permitted.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. I wonder who it was. More than a few have been lost over the years,” Jedda said, examining it and handing the piece back. “Why did you wish to keep it?”
Ain shrugged. The question was not one of judgement, but it was difficult to answer. He finally spoke. “I’m not sure. I want to remember him.”
The older man squeezed his shoulder. “Then let’s return now. Cloud Oasis has been waiting for you.” He started back into the shade of the trees. Ain followed him along a narrow trail. Ahead, glimpses of water shone through the leaves.
“I saw tents of sand-snakes. Surely they are early?”
“Yes, a change for the snakes.” He chuckled but his cheer soon faded. “This year’s Search is not off to an encouraging start.”
“What has happened?”
“The west clan is not coming.”
Ain stopped. “What? Why?”
“They have turned away from our quest. From all that makes us Medah. They refuse to attend the ceremony, their messenger brought only the ill news.”
“But the Search for the Sea Shrine... how could they turn their backs on it?”
“They no longer see it that way. Perhaps living so close to the Holvard in the far west has taken away their senses?” He paused to retie a piece of netting on one of the peach branches. “That is not the last of it.”
“There’s more?” The elders were probably fighting over what to do. Not even during the disastrous Glass War had the western clan broken pact. The oldest pact. The first pact, when there were no clans, no need for a pact. That alone was enough to swallow. What else had happened?
“Majid broke his leg the day after you left.”
Ain stopped. “Is he well?” Majid’s preparation for the Search lasted many months. Under the gaze of the elders his fitness and weapons training had been increased, as were his already formidable tracking and hunting skills. Perhaps most taxing, according to his friend, was learning the dirty language spoken by the Invaders, the Anaskari, and studying with the old Engineer. “And who will take his place? Isn’t Yavil seeking the old wells?”
“Yes. I don’t know who they’ll send, but Majid is well enough. Furious that he cannot undertake the Search, but he will recover.”
“Good.”
“There’s talk of the ceremony being delayed.”
“For how long?” He had an important question to ask Silaj and there was no bigger night than that of the Leaving ceremony. He smiled. Was there truly any reason to wait? Even if the ceremony was postponed, he would ask tonight. He was a true Pathfinder now, what more did he need?
“The elders are discussing it.”
By the time they reached the first mud-brick building, ringed by a low stone fence that sheltered an olive patch, his stomach was groaning. As if it’d been asleep and now woken grumpy. He could have snatched a handful of olives and gobbled them down.
In the large square men and women in yellow and brown hues carried rows of pot plants, which usually lined the building fronts, and arranged them into twin lines. The Searcher’s path, through which the Oasis’ chosen Pathfinder, Majid, would have left at dawn.
A voice shouted across the square. “Ain, Ain, you’re home.”
Little Wim leant out a window to wave, squashing the riot of pink and red flowers on the sill as he did. “Are you a Path-man now?”
He laughed. “Why don’t you come and see?”
Wim’s mother gave a shout when she saw her flowers, shooing him out the door. The boy ran across the dusty square, leaping over the pot plants and flinging himself into Ain’s arms.
“I’m happy to see you too, Wim.”
Ain was soon surrounded by smiling faces and people slapping him on the back, children touching his cloak and somewhere beyond the group, women singing Homecoming, voices swelling. Dadel, his apron half-tied, grinned at him, dark hair still damp from the forge. “Well done, Ain.”
Jedda too, smiled, but at a call, he moved away.
Wim tugged Ain’s sleeve. “Can we play now?”
“What do you want to play?”
“Hide and Seek.”
Dadel rolled his eyes. “You won’t be playing anything, you two.”
“Why not?”
“Look who comes with Jedda.”
Elder Raila approached the group, Jedda in tow. His teacher’s silvery head was bare to the sun and she adjusted her arm bands, the only mark of office the elders afforded themselves. More, the only mark she wore now that she had given up the cloak to become Elder.
At her approach, the crowd hushed.
Raila’s face, barely lined for a woman of her age, was graced with a smile but her eyes held worry. “Citizens, let us finish preparing for the Leaving Ceremony, and make time to honour Pathfinder Ain this evening.”
People left without complaint, Dadel offering one more whisper of encouragement and even Wim, who blinked up at Raila, slipped away. Ain went to both knees, sitting on his feet.
“Elder.”
“No formalities today, Pathfinder. At least, not from you, Ain.” She tapped his shoulder, beckoning for him to rise. He did so. “Congratulations from Cloud Oasis. We have been impressed with your conduct.”
“Thank you, Elder Raila.”
“I am aware that Jedda has explained some of the events of the past days. As you know, Majid is unable to continue the Search. He has asked to see you, will you come with me now?”
Ain glanced at Jedda, then back to Elder Raila. “He wants to see me, Raila?”
Jedda cleared his throat.
“Ah, I mean, Elder. And of course I will come. Forgive me.” He sunk back to his knees.
Raila shook her finger. “None of that, Pathfinder. Let’s be on our way, he is not far. Then we can get you something to eat.”
Ain followed his teacher as she skirted the Searcher’s path. He caught Jedda’s eyes again but the man shook his head. What was happening?
Chapter 9
“You will take Majid’s place.”
Ain stood agape before elders from both his own and the Snake clan. They sat in their clan colours, Snakes brown, Cloud in tan, hands folded before them. The Snake had a dagger on the tabletop and a finger twitched, as if he wanted to fiddle with it.
No-one was smiling, and even Majid wore a far-away look. He ran a hand over close-cropped hair. His leg was trussed up in a splint where he leant against the wall of the cool room, his blue Pathfinder’s cloak folded before him.
What had appeared to be a discussion with Majid was quite something else. The row of elders arrayed in Majid’s home was shock enough, but this? The Sands were not mysterious, they were unfathomable. How could he be a faithful servant if they sought to surprise him so?
“I am not worthy.” Ain fell to his knees and sat on his heels. He’d expected to be chastised for something. Or maybe asked about his intentions with Silaj. Sands, how to explain everything to her?
Raila motioned for him to stand. “You will have to be worthy. With Majid injured and the winter fast approaching, there’s no time to train another Pathfinder. The desert will soon be closed.”
“But I’m not prepared for the Search, Elder.”
“Ain. I have trained you, like Majid before you, in the paths, and I know your worth. You may not know the language of the Anaskari and you may not be the greatest tracker here in the Cloud, you may not know the Search, but you are the strongest Pathfinder, Ain. You will accept your duty.” She crossed her arms. The familiar gesture was enough for him to drop his head.
“Yes, teacher.”
Elder Snake cleared his throat. “This boy doesn’t speak the Anaskari tongue? Has not trained with the Engineer?”
“This young man,” Raila corrected. “And I do not exaggerate, in spite of your concerns. He is the strongest Pathfinder we have produced in generations.”
Ain flushed at her praise, but the Snake waved a hand. “I can have someone more able here in two weeks. It is best for all. Young Ain should not have to carry such a burden.”
Kafik, who sat beside Raila, shook his head. His silver bands were scuffed from his battles in the Glass War and his heavy brow was drawn. “Even a week might be a risk, the sand storms will be too violent soon.”
“That is so.” Raila said. “Snake, trust my judgement, Ain is capable.”
“If I might speak, Elder?” Majid glanced at Ain, offering a quick smile.
“Yes, Majid?”
“I would like to add my voice to that of my people.” He turned to the Snake. “Jedepa, we have hunted together. You know my measure. You know my word.”
“I do.”
“Then I will say now, Ain has been but a step behind me these past years. I may be more experienced, but that is only because I am a little older. Ain can make the journey.”
Snake took Ain’s measure, dark eyes roaming. It was difficult to discern exactly what the man felt. Was he displeased because Ain was young or because Ain wasn’t Snake-clan? “He’ll need a good Engineer, lad,” the man said, not bothering to address Ain.
Raila nodded. “He shall be accompanied by Ibranu.”
Snake grunted. “Well enough. But you ought to send at least one good warrior with him. I’ve been saying it for years, the reason we cannot locate the Sea Shrine isn’t our Pathfinders. It’s because they are not protected, but Sands forbid we buck tradition and actually provide for them properly.”
Kafik shook his head. “That’s not how it’s done. Stealth is of import. If we are to drive the Anaskari devils out of Sekkati then it will be done at the Shrine, that is what the Engineers have always promised. It will not happen with arms. Down that road lies too much death, as well you know. The Glass War? The Years of Blood? Our entire history.”
“All that might be true, but what’s one more in the party, Kafik? And it’s not tradition to send an under-prepared boy on the Search either, so don’t give me lectures.”
Ain stiffened but held his tongue. In another place he might tell Jedepa what he thought of the man’s opinion, Elder or no. But not in front of Raila and Majid.
“Enough,” Raila said, rubbing her neck. “It is not a bad idea. At least until the Borderlands. There Ibranu and Ain can decide whether to brave the Wards alone or risk another life in addition to their own. Agreed?”
Kafik said nothing. Finally he threw up his hands. “What does it matter? The West Clan has not even come, the Sands can hardly be pleased. Send a Warrior.”
The Snake was silent a moment, eventually nodding, though a frown remained. “Agreed.” To Ain he finally spoke. “Good fortune with you, lad.”
“Thank you, Elder.”
Pride shone in Raila’s eyes. “Congratulations, Ain. You are now the most important man in Cloud Oasis. It falls to you to unlock the secrets of the Sea Shrine, to restore the Medah to their rightful home, to Sekkati by the wide arms of the ocean.”
He bent to his knees and came to rest on his heels again, bowing his head to hide his face. Shock was wearing off. Unpleasant truths sank in. He would have to leave Silaj. East, into the enemy’s clutches. Crossing the wards. Risking his life. Sand storms. Anaskari devils.
He met Majid’s eyes. The Pathfinder nodded.
Aloud he said, “It is my honour.”
***
His Feast of Leaving was underway when Silaj found him.
Tables laden with lamb and sauces, olives and bread, peaches and milk were shadowed by the crowd. Torches and standing lamps lined the trees in the Searcher’s Path and around the square. Laughter jumped up and over the music and singing but he made no such sounds of his own, mumbling and forcing smiles as person after person came to offer congratulations. To let him know their hopes went with him.
Ain concealed his sighs. If the Sands willed it, he would prove worthy.
He’d eaten, and the food, usually delicious, was flat. Mush. Even Wim had not been able to get much of a rise out of him with his idea for pranks, and Dadel thumped him on the arm when Ain muttered about being forced to leave.
“I feel so sorry for you, having to go on an adventure while I’m stuck here pounding nails, arrow heads and sword blades. Or worse, those strange implements for the Engineer. You should see the old sketches Master Lusdeh has me work from. I can barely read them they’re so faded. That’s what I get to do.”
“It’s dangerous, Dadel. Few Pathfinders return.”
“I know.”
“And those that do are treated as failures. Barely acknowledged thereafter. Remember Naceh? How we found him in his home? His was face blue with poison. He still had the bottle in his hand.”
His friend looked away, scratching at his stubble. “I know that too.”
Ain sighed. “I’m sorry. I know I must leave, but it’s not what I want. I thought, once I was a Pathfinder, I would be able to choose my path.”
“I’m sorry too.”
“It’s not your fault.”
Dadel grinned. “No, but I have the feeling you could blame anyone about now.”
“I guess so.”
His friend had slipped from the chair where Ain sat in the shadows, just out of the firelight, when Silaj approached.
Ain stood and went to her. Her mouth was set and she’d pulled her dark hair into a bun atop her head, as she often did when preparing for an argument. To keep it from getting caught in her mouth, she’d told him when he asked.
“You returned early.”
“Yes.”
“Ain, you have to tell Elder Raila you cannot leave.”
No congratulations, no hello, not even a smile. He shouldn’t have expected anything more than her discontent. It mirrored his own. “I didn’t do this, Silaj.”
Her voice broke and her combative stance softened. “Ain, please. You cannot let this happen, not now. Mother is weakening, I know it. This is the worst time to leave.”
Couldn’t she see he had no say in the matter? How was he to break hundreds of years of tradition? Simply run into the desert, take her with him? Hide and run from shame forever? Ain opened his mouth to retort but stopped. Her eyes glistened. He stepped closer, and when she didn’t move away, he took her into his arms. “I don’t want to leave.”
“Then tell them you have a reason to stay.” She spoke into his chest before looking up. “Our child will need you.”
He gripped her shoulders. “Our child?”
“Yes. I wanted to surprise you... when you returned.”
He stroked her face. “Silaj. They will not let me stay.”
She smothered a sob. “I know.”
Ain drew in a shuddering breath and held her. The celebration went on beyond them, dancing shadows and clapping hands washing against him.
***
Dawn dusted the buildings, trees and the line of Elders with gold. Ain stood before them, heavy pack pulling on his shoulders where it rested over his blue cloak. So soon after his own Trial, his head was stuffed full of sand. If he tilted it, half the desert would have fallen out. And he’d have felt no better for it.
But all night he’d lain with Silaj, talking, making plans. Foolish plans, dreams where he returned unscathed.
For their child.
When he left in the predawn, everything a mute grey, she made him promise to return. And he did, the words treacherous on his tongue. She saw his doubt and he looked away. He had to leave her with something, leave his child with her memories of a strong man. What else mattered but returning to his son or daughter?
The Search was important. Maybe it was only a symbol now after so many failed attempts over hundreds of years. But important still. Not only for Cloud Oasis, but for all of Medah. It would be wondrous to avenge his people, but how likely was success? A twig against the Sand Giant’s rage.
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