Sennar's Mission (3 page)

The little girl toddled out of the room.

“How old is she?” Sennar muttered.

“What’s it to you?” Kala prodded.

Now that he had his sister in front of him and could finally speak to her, he felt too exhausted to think.

“Well then? What is it you want, Sennar?”

“I don’t know.” After so many years of silence, what could he say to her? He took a deep breath. “I was a child when I left, Kala. Then Dad died. And Soana insisted that if I wanted to fight against the Tyrant I’d have to stay the course, to become a sorcerer.”

Kala glared at him with disdain. “You’re just like Dad.”

Her words cut into him. “Dad wanted to do his part in the fight for freedom. What he did was nothing but admirable.”

“Do his part, huh? He forced Mom to live on the battlefield and raise her children in a war zone. He sacrificed the happiness of three people just to play the squire to his beloved knight. And you’re just like him. You went off to play hero, to go save who knows what. But you’re not a hero, Sennar. You should have stayed with us. We needed you. Mom slaved like a mule her whole life to make ends meet. And I had to get married with no dowry.” Kala lowered her voice. “I loved you, Sennar. When you took off with that witch, you were too young, you didn’t know what you were doing. But it’s eleven years now that you’ve been holed up studying who knows where. What’d you think, that a visit every now and then was enough to make up for the fact you weren’t here?”

“I’ve missed you both, too. So much.”

“Oh please! Every time you came back, Mom was like a little girl with a new doll. And then you’d go away, and I had to listen to her sob. It was infuriating. Why didn’t she make you come back? Why didn’t she look you in the face and tell you how selfish you were? No, she always admired you, she always supported you.” Kala’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m not like her. And now it’s time for you to go, please. And don’t ever come back.”

Sennar had a lump in his throat. “I love you now just as much as I loved you then, Kala. And your daughter is so beautiful. Really.”

He leaned over to kiss his sister on the cheek, but she stepped back.

“Why did you come here?” she asked.

“I’m taking off, Kala. I don’t know when I’ll be back. I just wanted to say good-bye.”

Kala regarded her brother in silence.

“This voyage frightens me,” said Sennar, as if speaking to himself. “If I listened to my legs right now, I’d run in the opposite direction. But at the same time, I know I have to go. It’s strange, isn’t it? That’s how it always seems to be for me.”

Two tears slid down Kala’s cheeks.

“Can I say good-bye to my niece?” Sennar asked.

Kala nodded and quickly dried her face. “Mana!”

The girl came running and stopped shyly in the middle of the room.

“She’s four,” Kala whispered.

Sennar rubbed the child’s head, then quickly let himself out the door.

The next afternoon, the tavern was packed. Sennar threaded his way between the tables and headed straight for Faraq.

“Have you found anyone?” he asked under his breath.

Faraq glanced around, then pulled Sennar closer. “It’s not so simple …”

“If there’s really no one, I’d be happy with a fishing boat, a sail boat—anything that floats and has room for one,” Sennar cut in.

“Relax, relax! You haven’t even turned twenty yet and you’re already that eager to die? My son knows somebody, but it’s going to cost you.”

“The cost is no issue.”

“Tonight, at the western pier.”

“I’ll be there.”

Sennar slipped out of his mother’s house wrapped in a long black robe that covered him from head to toe. It was a clear night, the sea slick as oil. There was no one at the pier. He sat with his feet dangling in empty space. On the water’s surface, a thin sickle of moon gave off a spectral glow.

“Are you the one?” asked a woman’s voice—a low tone, almost hoarse.

Sennar turned. A figure loomed behind him, wrapped in a long cloak. He hadn’t noticed her approach. “What do you mean?”

“What, are you brick-headed?” she asked, irritated. “Are you the one who’s looking to go to the Underworld?”

“Yes, I’m the one.”

The woman sat without removing her hood. “A million dinars,” she said flatly.

He was thrown off for a moment. “Huh?”

“You understood just fine. Do you have the cash?”

Sennar did the math quickly in his head; if he threw in a bit of his own, he could manage. “Your price seems a bit high.”

The woman laughed. “You don’t like it? The last guy who made your little trip disappeared without a trace. Two years later, they found the mast of his ship—and nothing more.”

“When can you leave?” Sennar asked.

“It depends. I’m told you have a map.”

Sennar cursed himself. “Not with me,” he responded, embarrassed. He made for a terrible conspirator.

The woman stood and began to walk off. “Tomorrow, here, same time.”

“Couldn’t we meet when there’s still daylight? I’d like to see the rest of the crew, take a look at the ship.”

She leaned in close, until their two faces nearly touched. In the moonlight, Sennar could make out two pitch-black eyes. When she spoke, he felt her breath on his skin.

“You’ve got some nerve. Don’t make me change my mind. Tomorrow, then, my little angel.”

She stared at him another moment, then turned and disappeared into the night.

The next evening, when Sennar arrived at the pier, he found the woman there waiting for him. Again she wore a long cloak.

“Come this way; it’s not wise to stay out in the open.”

He followed her, though with a feeling of unease, as if he were about to walk into trouble. They went the length of the beach, an arm’s length apart. She ordered him to walk through the water and he obeyed, despite the frigid cold of the winter sea. On and on they went until they reached a small inlet hidden among the rocks.

As a child, Sennar remembered, he’d been forbidden to come here. It was dangerous, he’d been told. Now, he followed the woman as she squeezed herself through a crevice in the rock face and found himself standing in a candlelit cavern.

“No one will bother us here,” she said.

Sennar took a look around. It appeared as if someone had been living there. In the center was a large, rickety table, cluttered with glasses and bottles of Shark, while all around the outer edge a series of passageways presumably led off into other rooms.

“Have a seat.”

Sennar obeyed without protest, his eyes on her.

Finally, the woman unfastened her cloak, letting it fall dramatically from her shoulders.

She was nearer thirty than twenty, with straight black hair that fell to her waist. Her observed the curve of her hips and her ample bosom, bound tightly in a velvet bodice. Apart from her plunging neckline, she was dressed like a man: leather pants, boots, a dagger hitched to her belt. Sennar was dumbstruck.

“What’s the problem? Never seen a woman before?” she asked.

Without taking her eyes off him, she pulled a chair up to the table and sat with her legs crossed. Immediately, she grabbed a bottle and filled two glasses. She offered the first to Sennar and downed the second like water. “Now then, do you have a name?”

Sennar responded feebly, “What about you?”

“I’ll tell you at the end of our little chat. That’s if I feel like it, of course. Pull out the map, already.”

Sennar dug through his pockets. There was something unsettling about this woman. He went on rummaging anxiously until he felt her hand brush against his hip.

“Could it be this ragged scrap of paper?” she said coolly.

He lowered his gaze. “Excuse me, I’m a bit out of sorts. Yes, that’s the one.”

The woman snatched the piece of parchment from his tunic and gave it a passing glance. Then she dropped it back on the table. “I’ve seen dozens of maps like this. Completely useless.”

“And why is that?” Sennar asked, on the defensive.

“Who do you think you are, kid, the first person who’s ever tried to get to the Underworld? Do you have any idea how many have come before you? There are plenty of maps being passed around: obscure scribbles, trails carved in with hatchets. They all swear their own map is the one. It’s a wonder, then, that none of these brave adventurers ever actually sets sail. The few that have dared are long since fish food.”

Sennar downed his glass of Shark, snatched back the piece of parchment, and regained his courage. “Listen, I’m telling you that this is the map that shows the way to the Underworld,” he said. He forced himself to look her in the eyes. She was breathtakingly beautiful.

The woman shot him a sarcastic glance. “Of course! Let me guess: the merchant who sold it to you swore he’d traveled there once a year for the last decade or so.”

Sennar took another sip of Shark. “No, there was no merchant at all. I’m not sure how it ended up there, but I found it buried in the Royal Library of Makrat. There was another piece of parchment attached to it, marked with the seal of the Land of Water. A document, in other words, certifying this map to be a copy of the one used in the Overworld’s attempted invasion.”

“And with this map, what do you prove? For all we know, that invasion attempt never took place,” she fired back, challenging him.

Sennar shook his head. “Of course it took place. I’m certain of it. Immediately afterward, an ambassador from the Underworld went before the Council of Kings and made it clear that if anyone dared approach their kingdom again, the consequences would be catastrophic. The event is reported in every history volume I’ve consulted, and always in the same way. If the invaders were able to get that far, it means that the original map was accurate. Which means that this copy of that map points to the exact location of the Underworld.” His entire explanation had come out in one breath. Sennar leaned back in his chair with satisfaction.

The woman was not easy to convince. “What do you mean, the exact location? This map is illegible.”

Sennar held his ground. “I’ve studied the map at length. What about it do you not understand?”

She slid her chair toward Sennar’s and moved so close their shoulders touched. She pointed to a few places on the parchment. “These borders don’t resemble any coast I’ve ever seen. This landmass here is unrecognizable. These islands simply don’t exist. And really, what is this inkblot?”

Sennar was thrown off. Her nearness confounded him; the mere touch of her shoulder sent a shiver down his spine. He shifted farther away from her in his chair. “That coast there is the eastern edge of the Land of the Sea. When you compare this map to others, it’s identical. That landmass is an unknown island, and the archipelago you see there is linked to Ooren, the Winter Islands. And your so-called inkblot, well, that’s the entrance to the Underworld.” He paused. “A whirlpool, to be precise.”

The woman burst into laughter. “You’ve completely lost it! You expect me to throw my ship down a whirlpool, with me in it?”

“No, you’ll only have to bring me nearby and give me a boat. I’ll go down the whirlpool and you’ll float on back home with a million dinars in your pocket,” said Sennar, throwing back the last drop of Shark.

The woman stared at him, her black eyes lit with irony. “You mean to say you’ll be paying me a million dinars to kill yourself? Quite crafty, I admit. Finding a sturdy tree and a bit of rope wasn’t difficult enough for you?”

Without a word, Sennar folded the map and put it back in his pocket.
She’s right. It’s suicide.

“Enlighten me, though. Why is it you’re doing this?” she asked.

It would be unwise, Sennar reasoned, to tell her the truth. He kept things vague. “I’m a sorcerer. I have a mission to carry out down there.”

For a moment, the woman was silent. Then she rose from her chair and leaned forward on the table. “We’ll leave tomorrow night. You’ll find the ship anchored in the inlet on the other side of this promontory.”

Sennar, too, rose from his chair, in disbelief.
So it’s settled!
He extended a hand. “My name is Sennar. Now you can finally tell me yours, no?”

She smiled and fixed him in her gaze. “A millions dinars, and then we’ll talk about my name.”

It was a moonless evening, a perfect night for setting sail in secret. As his footsteps sank in the sand along the murky beach, Sennar felt his anxiety at leaving give way to a greater emotion: the desire to see those extraordinary black eyes again.

All that day, he’d been unable to stop thinking about the mysterious woman. Now, as she came into view at a distance, his heart leaped.
Dammit, Sennar! Get a grip on yourself!

She was waiting for him just outside of the crevice leading into the cavern. Lifting a lantern, she bathed him in bright, blinding light. “It’s time to go.”

They walked toward the small cove where the ship was anchored. In the dark, Sennar could make out very little. It looked like a fast vessel, with a long, tapered keel that could cut easily through the water. The figurehead that decorated the prow was difficult to distinguish, beyond a set of pointed teeth protruding from its mouth.