Cloak of the Two Winds (12 page)

"The walls of Kadavel," Amlina said, turning her gaze to an inward focus. "And above them in a dark sky, the shining face of Beryl."

Kizier watched her without response.

"The juxtaposition is improbable," Amlina complained. "If Beryl had the Cloak she would not take it to Kadavel."

"Is this something you know beyond all doubt?" the bostull asked.

"No. Admittedly not. But nor do I know that Kadavel is the answer I am seeking."

"Yet you must choose a direction," the windbringer said.

Amlina was quiet for a time. A cold breeze rippled over the deck. The sea lapped at the coaster's hull. The Iruk called Draven stared at the witch with patient intensity. Amlina shivered and pulled her silken robe tight at her neck.

"Your comrades are on the island?" she asked Draven.

"Yes. Gathering food." Then, anxiously: "Why do you ask?"

Keen of intuition, these Iruks. Amlina saw there was no use dissimulating with him. "As I felt that chill I saw them surrounded by violent radiances. They may be in danger."

Lonn tensed and held his spear ready to throw. He peered across the dim beach into the deeper gloom below the cliff. He might have seen a movement there, a flash of gray in the darkness.

Behind him the low surf tossed, and the Larthangans padded over the wet sand, digging and collecting. During daylight the party had made two trips back to the watering place and had filled the large casks they had brought ashore. The skiffs were more than half packed with this water and with eggs, drying herbs, and roots. Tomorrow they would ferry this first load of provisions back to the
Plover
. Since nightfall, when the tide went out, the Larthangans had ranged along the bright shoreline, foraging for clams, sandfish, and other comestibles. Lonn and Eben had accompanied them, leaving Brinda and Karrol to take turns napping and guarding the skiffs.

Noiselessly, Eben moved up beside Lonn. "Something?"

"I'm not sure," Lonn said. "Wait here."

Lonn stole up the gentle slope of the beach. The darkness thickened about him as he left the glowing lagoon behind. The breeze stirred and Lonn sniffed the air, all senses alert.

Nothing.

He crept forward to the place he thought he had seen the movement, where the shadow of the cliff began, and peered along the rugged wall.

Still nothing.

Lonn turned and headed back toward the shore, still listening intently as he moved. This vigilance saved his life.

The brush of sand under massive paws made him whirl as the volroom charged. The beast had been crouching by some boulders and Lonn had mistaken its gray-white bulk for one of the rocks. Now he glimpsed gleaming tusks and tiny eyes and just had time to level his spear before the brute collided with him.

"Volroom!" Lonn shouted, staggering backward.

A roaring answer came from the darkness along the cliffs. The volrooms had come out on Windbock.

Lonn lost his footing and crashed to his back in a patch of weeds. The volroom, stalled a moment by the spear stuck in its shoulder, now leapt at him. But Lonn rolled aside and scrambled to his feet.

Three more tusk-bears were loping toward him from beneath the cliff.

"Karrol, Brinda!" Eben's bellowing voice grew louder as he raced up from shore. "Volrooms!"

Lonn apprehended all this in an instant, as he bent low to meet the first volroom's attack. The creature reared on hind legs, nearly as tall as Lonn and easily three times his bulk. But it could not match the Iruk's speed. Ducking beneath the swiping claws Lonn plucked his spear free. Head tucked low and shoulders hunched, he lunged, growling in reply to the volroom's roar. The spear pierced the animal's belly, puncturing the tough layer of muscle and sliding into the soft entrails. Hot blood spurted over Lonn's arms and harness.

Enraged, the volroom clutched at him with fore and hind paws, seeking to drag him down. Scratched through his leggings, Lonn managed to squirm free, stumbling, then righted himself. He drew knife and sword in a swift-handed motion.

The wounded volroom staggered toward him, claws raised. The other three had drawn near and were circling in on all fours.

Then Eben arrived with a ferocious yell. He stopped next to Lonn and flung a spear. His yell was punctuated by a yip of pain as the spear struck a volroom in the side.

Drawing his steel Eben darted forward, wheeling and stabbing, occupying two more tusk-bears while staying clear of their claws and teeth. Meantime, Lonn sidestepped the feeble charge of the first bear and cut its snout with his sword. The blow brought a stream of blood that half blinded the volroom, which turned and shook, unable to spot the Iruk. Lonn leaped behind the confused bear and finished it with a sweeping overhead sword blow that cut deep into the creature's neck. The bear collapsed on the sand and shuddered as it died.

Karrol and Brinda were racing across the beach with shouts of excitement. Eben was still nimbly fighting off two of the bears. The fourth volroom, wounded by Eben's spear, circled clumsily, uncertain whether to attack or retreat. Lonn jerked his sword free of the dead volroom's neck and charged to stand with Eben.

Seconds later the women arrived and helped end the fight.

Karrol's spear drove one bear to the ground where Lonn's thrusting sword found its heart. Brinda and Eben cornered another volroom against the piled boulders and stabbed it to death with their swords. The last volroom turned to flee and Karrol pursued it, spear held high. Lonn started to go after her, then realized she would need no help. Screaming with glee she caught the limping bear and fell upon it. Lonn saw her spear descend again and again until the volroom's roars had ceased.

Drenched in blood, Lonn checked himself for damage. He found only shallow scratches on his legs and a stiffening shoulder that had been wrenched in the shock of the first bear's charge.

"Foolish volroom," he muttered to the slain bear at his feet. "If you could not rouse your fellows you should never have tried to take us four against four. Did you think that because we are separated our spirit is broken? We are still a klarn. We will be together again."

For two more days the Iruks and Larthangans gathered provisions on Windbock and ferried them back to the ship. No more volrooms showed themselves. The Iruks skinned and butchered the four they had killed, scraped and stretched out the hides and set the meat in the sun to dry. The bones they buried in the sand, performing an ancient rite designed to insure the replenishment of the volroom race.

When the skiffs had returned four times to the coaster and the larders and water casks on board were nearly full, the klarnmates loaded the meat and furs onto the boats and prepared to take their leave. In the late afternoon the sailors pushed the skiffs out into the gleaming water. The Iruks lingered on the beach, holding hands as they faced the tall cliffs. They gave thanks to the island for its hospitality and to the Volroom Spirit for providing them with meat and furs and the chance to test their hardihood.

When the skiffs had been hoisted back on board and the last of the provisions stowed below, Amlina assembled the whole ship's company on the main deck and addressed them.

"In accord with the guidance of the Deepmind, I have decided on our destination. We sail at once for the Tathian city of Kadavel on the island of Lustre, there to find and regain the Cloak of the Two Winds for Larthang. Captain Troneck estimates that with good weather we will reach the city in 20 to 25 days."

"With good weather and no freezewind snagging us," Troneck grumbled.

"We will anticipate only good fortune," the witch said.

But for all her brave words, Lonn detected a note of uncertainty in Amlina's voice. The Larthangans seemed relieved: at least the Islands of Tath were a civilized region. The crewmen dispersed at Troneck's orders, to hoist the anchor and unfurl the sails.

"What of Glyssa?" Karrol asked the witch. "Did you see her?"

Amlina frowned at her distantly before answering. "Her image was not disclosed to me. I am sorry." The witch took her leave then and retired to her cabin.

The Iruks went below decks to stow their harnesses and weapons. They searched out some pegs and leather thongs and used them to stretch the partially cured furs in an empty corner of the ship's hold. By the time they returned to the main deck, it was evening and the coaster was underway, leaving Windbock and the South Polar Sea astern.

The
Plover
journeyed northward on the trackless ocean. No sail or island disturbed the small ship's perfect solitude, no rock or yulugg spout. There was only the huge sky and the wide, glimmering waters.

The Iruks were often at the rails those first days out, watching the far horizons with a kind of superstitious wariness. To them the great ocean was the limit of the world. They never ventured far upon it, and then only with caution. Their ancestors had believed that the ocean turned to a lifeless realm of steam not many days north of Windbock. Iruks of the present day knew of other shores to the north, the Isles of Tath and distant Nyssan. As for the east, they were not so sure. Lonn's klarn had heard one travelling scholar claim that Glimnodd was a sphere, that the eastern ocean eventually joined the ocean in the west. But the Iruks were far from convinced.

They took the question to Kizier, who was amused by their skepticism. "Oh, yes. Glimnodd is round and circled by the Ocean. One Tathian poet refers to 'The world-girding Ocean,' and 'The belt-buckle Isles of Tath.' "

"What islands lie ahead on this part of the Ocean?" Lonn inquired. When his klarn had sailed the ocean in the past it was always to the south and east of Windbock, chasing yulugg herds.

"To the east," Kizier said, "there is no land save a small, half-legendary isle called Alone, very far and hard to find. To the west of us lie the Worm Isles, the dwelling place of furworms and other monsters spawned in the Age of the World's Madness. But you know the southernmost of those islands at least. It is Dekyll, where you first encountered this ship."

"We know Dekyll but never land there," Eben answered. "We know of the fire-breathing worms."

"Just so," the bostull said. "North of the Worm Isles lie the Shoals of Sarn, where once was a prosperous human realm. But that land sank during the centuries of disruption. Now it is a place of whirlpools and treacherous reefs shunned by seamen of all nations. Some mariners call the Shoals 'The Drain of the Sea,' claiming there is a hole there where the ocean falls into a lower world. But this is usually regarded as an ignorant and fatuous idea. North of the Shoals are the Tathian Isles, chief of which are Glistre, Borga, Xinner, and Lustre, where we are bound."

That afternoon the northwest wind, which had blown favorably since the last sea-change, began to slacken. The breeze puffed intermittently for a day and a night, then died altogether. The chorus of windbringers strove continually to bring forth gusts, but their particular deepshaping power was less effective in periods of full calm. Much of the time the
Plover's
sails hung lifeless in the still air.

Apparently, the witch had no designs or spells capable of aiding the windbringers—at least none that had much effect. Amlina stayed mostly in her cabin, but what she did there the Iruks could only guess. When she did come out, usually in the afternoons, it was for short periods only, to walk the decks and breathe the fresh air, to stare out to sea or talk a bit with Troneck or Kizier. Her replies to the Iruks' inquiries never varied much: she had not yet seen Glyssa nor the Cloak, but was searching for them still; she thought the weather would change soon, but could not say exactly when.

On the fourth day of calm a misty wall of gray rose in the south. In a few hours the front overtook the
Plover
. A stiff wind filled the sails and the ship was able to run before it. But the new weather was not entirely heartening to the voyagers. Wind from the south meant a drop in temperatures and soon, likely, a freeze.

That evening no stars came out and Grizna's face did not break through the clouds. A chill rain began to fall, and past midnight it changed to sleet. A slick layer of ice soon covered all parts of the ship, and the sailors on the night watch slipped and cursed as they moved about the decks.

Below in their storeroom cabin the Iruks slept close together under blankets and furs. Toward morning, Lonn was visited by a dream.

He saw himself on board the dojuk, but none of his mates were there. He manned the tiller, but otherwise the hunting boat somehow sailed itself, running fleetly over smooth ice. There was beauty in the swift glide of the dojuk, a beauty Lonn had lately missed. But something troubled him in the dream, something he could not name.

Soon the dojuk came upon a ship, a huge flat-bellied craft with three masts and three black sails. The wind that had driven the dojuk died, and the boat slid up near the three-master and stopped. Lonn watched as men climbed down from the ship and shuffled toward him across the ice. Then he saw with a shock they were not men, only empty white robes that moved like men.

Silently the white-clad ghosts climbed aboard the dojuk. One of them loosed the halyard and let the yard drop with a crash. Lonn wanted to stop them, to repel these eerie boarders. But he could not move—his limbs would not respond to his will. He could only stand helpless and watch as several of the robes lifted the mast from its step and let it topple forward, banging as it hit the prow. Lonn could not understand why they did this. Then one of the robes came and touched him on the hand and gestured that he must follow. He could not resist, though every particle of him wanted to. He found himself stepping across the ice toward the black ship, and noticed with a surge of horror that now
he
was wearing a loose white robe.

Lonn stood with the line of ghosts along the ship's rail, looking down at the partly dismantled dojuk. There was a tall figure in black and silver at the stern of the ship, whose face was hidden by a cowl but whose hands showed, gray and scaly like fishes. The hands pointed down at the dojuk and a roar blew out of the sky.

A cloud of silvery light rippled into being. The ice about the dojuk shimmered and changed to water. A moan of awe sounded from the empty robes. The silver light was spinning, stirring the dojuk in a deepening whirlpool that spiraled down from sky to sea in an unbroken sweep of force. Lonn looked on in despair as the dojuk was pulled under. Then the wind shrieked to a higher pitch and bits of ice flew in the silvery whirlwind. The melted water heaved and shuddered, then solidified into gleaming ice. No trace of the dojuk remained.

Lonn moaned and turned in his sleep. The dream changed, a progression of images fading one to another: the black ship racing over shiny, frozen seas; groups of ghostly robes performing intricate rituals in the holds of the ship. Lonn saw himself taking part, still wearing the hooded robe, still unable to move except in unison with the others.

Then he dreamed the ship entered a harbor, a huge and crowded port. Above the harbor rose a gigantic city of wood and stone. A wooden wall ran along the waterfront, with massive gates, their arches carved into dragons. Staring at one of the dragons, Lonn felt a tingle of dread. He looked down at his hands and saw they were vague, fading. His body was disappearing, he was becoming another empty robe.

But it was not Lonn—He knew this with an icy, stabbing insight. In that moment all the pieces of the dream came together. It was not Lonn who was fading,
it was Glyssa
.

"No ... No! Glyssa!"

"Lonn. Wake up!"

"No!" He came awake, staring madly in the cold storeroom.

"What is it? What did you dream?" His mates clustered about him, sleepy-eyed except for Draven who had been keeping watch and was holding a spear.

"What of Glyssa?" Karrol demanded.

Staring at the floor Lonn told them of the dream. It was exceptionally vivid in his mind, as few dreams ever were, and he repeated every detail.

"The witch should hear this," Draven declared.

"No," Karrol said. "You know it's bad luck to tell a dream outside the klarn."

"Amlina is our partner now," Draven said. "The dream may help her find Glyssa."

But Karrol held out stubbornly. The klarn argued the matter for some time, Brinda and Eben insisting on considering every point of view. Lonn hardly listened. He sat hugging his knees, still plunged in the desolate emotion of the dream.

Finally the klarn decided to bring the dream to Kizier. If he thought it important enough, they would share it with the witch. They considered it less unlucky to divulge private klarn matters to a nonhuman creature. The mates put on their clothes and tramped upstairs to the quarterdeck.

It was a dreary morning, the sky ominous. The sleeting had stopped but the decks were still slippery. The wind blew strong and bitter on the coaster's stern.

"Kizier," Draven squatted down to touch the windbringer. "You must hear what Lonn has dreamed."

Lonn repeated the dream in a mumbling voice, his mates filling in details here and there that he neglected. When he had finished, Kizier had him go over the description of the city and harbor once more.

"You were right to inform me," the bostull whispered excitedly. "Take me below to Amlina's cabin. We must tell her at once."

"Will the dream help her find Glyssa?" Karrol asked.

"Take me below," Kizier said. "All of you come."

Brinda and Draven lifted the windbringer's pail and toted him down the steps, Lonn and the others following.

"Knock on the door first," Kizier said as they approached Amlina's cabin.

Karrol leaned around them and rapped sharply on the door. The witch asked who it was, then told them to enter.

The Iruks pushed open the door and stopped, gaping in wonderment. Amlina sat on a cushion in the center of the room. Her eyes were open and alert, yet her body seemed in a state of utter repose. All about her was motion, shifting patterns of shadows and multicolored light. The flicker of tiny lamps was scattered and reflected by prisms and desmets, which spun on their silk threads as though moved by an impalpable breeze.

"Come in," Amlina repeated.

The revolving of the trinkets slowed as the Iruks carried Kizier inside and set him down by the witch. Amlina did not rise, and the klarnmates sat or knelt on the floor around her.

"Lonn has had a dream," the bostull said. "A visionary dream, I think, of true events."

Amlina listened while Kizier told the dream, using practically Lonn's exact words and missing not a single detail. The witch's placid expression never altered, though her eyes did widen once, when the bostull mentioned the carved dragons on the harbor gates.

"So you think he's seen Kadavel and the Cloak arriving there?"

"It seems likely, does it not?"

The witch sighed. "That the dream pictures Kadavel is obvious enough. But that doesn't necessarily mean the Cloak is there. Isn't it just as likely that Lonn picked up the image of Kadavel from me, since it's often been in my mind's eye these past days?"

"Perhaps," the bostull said. "On the other hand it is now 24 days since Glyssa disappeared with the Cloak, her craft driven by its wind-making magic. If I estimate speed and distances correctly, we might expect her boat—or a ship she'd transferred to—to reach Kadavel at about this time."

"I will grant you that," Amlina said, stretching her arms. "I've calculated it about the same."

"What is more," Kizier said, "these Iruks have a strong mental bond among members of their group. Lonn, as leader, seems to be a focal point of that bond. The designs concealing the Cloak would not necessarily sever such a bond, especially if Glyssa's mind was reaching out to her friends."

The witch considered. "Perhaps you are right, Kizier. Perhaps it is a hopeful sign."

"Perhaps it is much more," the windbringer answered. "If Lonn truly made contact with Glyssa, across distance and whatever barriers exist in the Deepmind, then perhaps the contact can be re-established."

"Could be," Amlina allowed. "If his dreaming is lucky."

"You miss my point. Perhaps Lonn can be taught to make this mental contact while awake."

"How?" Lonn demanded.

"By training you to deepsee."

"Now wait, Kizier—" Amlina began.

"Don't you see?" the bostull interrupted. "This could be the reason the Iruks are here, the purpose they are meant to serve on this voyage."

"But you speak of a process of training that takes years," Amlina protested. "And there's no teacher available. Certainly I'm not equipped to train him."

"You recall your own training, don't you? I know you have a copy of
The Canon of the Deepmind
, which contains the initiation ceremony. Besides, didn't you tell me once that in the arts of the wei the teacher is only a guide, that the student mostly teaches herself?"

"Yes. But the learning takes time, much time."

"But some visionary breakthroughs commonly occur all during the training, especially soon after initiation. Is this not so?"

"If this training may help us find Glyssa, then we must try it," Lonn told the witch.

"Do not be so quick to volunteer," Amlina said. "You have no idea what we're talking about. The training of a deepseer is difficult and painful. It requires the initiate to abandon normal patterns of thought and belief. It means opening yourself to the immeasurable power of the Deepmind. There are some who venture into those depths and never find their way out."

Lonn looked at Kizier.

"What Amlina says is true," the bostull admitted. "It would be unfair not to warn you of the perils. All I can promise is that she and I will do all we can to guide you, if you wish to try."