The Rebellion (119 page)

A chill ran down my spine like a trickle of ice at the thought that I now had what Kasanda and Atthis had directed me to find: I knew the keeping place of some necessary key, knowledge that had been passed down from one Red Queen to the next for generations.

In terms of my quest, there was no reason for me to stay.

I thought of the dark power coiled deep inside my mind, and I knew that I could leave with Maruman whenever I wanted. That’s why the cat had been silent when I’d asked how I was to get back. Getting back wasn’t the problem. And the darkness within me seemed to ask,
Aren’t one girl and a
mindless man a small price to pay for saving the world?

No
, I thought savagely.
I won’t leave them. All of us will go free, or none of us
.

“Can you untie my paws?” Maruman sent.

“I will try.” I focused a probe to the point it could be used as a physical force, working at his bonds until he could slip free when he chose. My head was thumping, and I could feel sweat running down my spine by the time I had finished.

“Now the bear,” Maruman sent, licking his paws to restore their circulation.

I rested for a time, then turned my attention to the bear. Its bindings were looser than Maruman’s. Nevertheless, by the time I had finished, I was utterly drained of energy. My bindings were long enough that I was able to lie down, if uncomfortably. I closed my eyes, thinking to rest before releasing myself.

It grew considerably colder. By dusk, the mist had become mackerel clouds infused with lilac and streaks of green over a dazzling ocean of molten gold and red. I lay for a long while simply admiring it, but finally the throbbing pain in my wrists forced me to sit up.

Refreshed, it did not take long to loosen my bonds. Then I looked around. Land, if indeed it was land, was little more than a bluish shadow on the horizon.

Maruman sent, “Red Queen bids us be ready to act when the funaga-li are distracted.”

“Distracted by what?” I asked.

Without warning, the ship shuddered violently and lurched sideways.

“Shoal! Shoal!” someone cried. On deck, men ran frantically back and forth, tugging on ropes and craning their necks to peer over the rail.

“Have we hit a shoal or not?” the blue-robed captain demanded of the man up in the crow’s nest.

“I can’t see,” he bellowed. “There’s something—”

The ship gave another lurch, and everyone standing was thrown to their knees.

“Whales! Whales!” screamed the man in the crow’s nest. “They’re attacking us!”

“Get the harpoon,” the captain yelled, and I heard a note of real fear in his voice. I slid my hands free of their ropes and untied Dragon’s. She bent over her mother, and I turned to look into the water. Incredibly, the waves seethed with gigantic black fish with shining, smooth skins.

“They come at the bidding of the queen,” Maruman sent.

I looked to the Red Queen, who had dragged herself into a sitting position. “You must jump over the side while the men are busy,” she told her daughter.

Dragon shook her head. “I will not leave without you.”

The queen hesitated, a strange look on her face. Then she smiled and nodded. “I will come with you, of course. Why not?”

“But … Mami, you can’t swim,” Dragon protested.

“I have summoned friends who will help us.”

“The whales?” I asked.

The Red Queen looked at me. “They will deal with the ship. My other friends are smaller and silver-gray. They are some distance away, but they come.”

“Ship fish?”

A smile flickered over her face. “I have heard them named so, though they call themselves Vlar-rei.”

“Children of the waves?” I said, translating from beast-speech.

Her eyes widened. “Who are you?”

“Another who understands the minds of beasts.”

To my amazement, the queen spoke directly to my mind then. “Help me up. There is little time.”

“You have lost too much blood,” I sent.

“My daughter must not fall into the hands of the slavers,” the Red Queen responded.

I nodded and bent to take the queen under her arms. The coppery smell of her blood made me feel sick.

The ship lurched again, and the queen groaned and slumped against me. I helped her to stand upright and was horrified to see fresh blood flowing from the stab wound. Her eyes, cloudy with pain, met mine. “Do not hesitate or all will be lost. More is at stake here than my life.”

“Stop them!” I heard the captain cry, and there was the sound of running footsteps.

I heard the bear roar and a man scream in fright, but I dared not look back. “You must jump with her. You will have to support her until the ship fish come,” I told Dragon.

“I … I am afraid,” she whispered, her face as white as milk.

I reached out and grasped her roughly by the arm, knowing there was no time to explain or coax. “You are the daughter of a queen! Have you less courage than your mother?”

Some of the terror in her blue eyes abated, and she clenched her teeth and climbed the rail. For a second, mother and daughter were balanced there; then they were falling away from me into the churning waves.

I turned to find Maruman and the bear positioned to shield me from a phalanx of seamen, several of whom were attempting to nock arrows to bow strings on the shuddering deck.

“Go now, ElspethInnle,” the old cat sent imperiously. “We will follow.”

I dived over the edge, praying I would not land on one of
the whales. There was a swift rush of salty air, and then I hit the water hard enough to wind myself. It was icy cold. I fought my way back to the surface, shedding boots and outer clothes so that I could swim. All around me were the silken black whales, but if they were savage, I could not see it in their mild eyes. There was no sign of Dragon or the queen, but I sensed they were close.

I looked up in time to see a flash of black and gold, and Maruman landed in the water beside me, emanating loathing. Fortunately, although he hated being wet, he could swim quite well.

There was another splash as the bear leapt into the water.

I felt a rush of fear, because we would be easy targets for their arrows. Then I sensed the queen coldly command the whales to destroy the ship. They battered it now with terrifying force. The hull cracked and splintered, and in a remarkably short time, the ship sank, leaving nothing behind but a mess of floating timber. Not a single seaman survived, though I could not tell if they drowned or if the whales ate them. The enormous creatures vanished as mysteriously as they had appeared, and all at once, there were just the five of us, surrounded by shattered splinters of debris, with the sky darkening above and a profound silence about us.

Struggling to control my fear by reminding myself that everything that was happening was part of a dream, I paddled over to where Dragon swam, supporting her mother with obvious difficulty.

“She’s so heavy …,” she gasped.

“Her clothes,” I said breathlessly, and began ripping away the billowing cloth. Only then did I see the water around her was red with blood. I summoned a probe and found her life force was running away as rapidly as her blood. Giving up on
the dress, I slid my arm around her neck to relieve Dragon.

“You are bleeding badly,” I sent.

“I am dying.”

“The ship fish …”

“Will bring my daughter to shore,” she sent gently. “The important thing is that she lives and returns to sit on my throne.”

I farsought until I located a solitary ship fish making its way toward us, but it was very far away. Too far for the queen.

“Mami,” Dragon gasped through chattering teeth. “I can’t see the shore, and I’m so tired.”

“The ship fish will come soon to carry you. It will know the way,” the queen murmured. She frowned a little, staring up. “It grows light. I would like to see … to see …” Her voice faded, and I felt her life force dissipate.

“Mami! Mami!” Dragon screamed. She thrashed about so wildly in her distress that she wrenched the queen’s body from my grip and pushed me under the water. I almost panicked, for the draperies the queen wore wound about my arms and face, dragging me down as she began to sink.

I fought my way free and struggled to the surface, trying to drag the queen back up, but again Dragon struck me with her flailing arms and the queen slipped from my grasp. I had no breath left to gather her again, and Dragon gave a hoarse scream of anguish as her mother vanished under the dark waves.

I felt terribly weak all of a sudden, and Maruman sent, “The cords that hold us to our bodies begin to fade. If you do not break the dream, we will drown, and the cycle will begin again,” he sent.

Break it?
I thought dimly. I couldn’t break us free without abandoning Dragon, but if I could guide her …

I felt a stab of sheer horror, for she had vanished beneath the waves. Groping about desperately, I found her and dragged her back to the surface.

“You … must … not …,” I gasped, holding her above the water.

“I am no queen,” she whispered. “I should have died instead of her. I want to die.”

I forced myself to answer. “Then she died for nothing.”

“I …,” Dragon began, but a wave slapped her in the face, silencing her.

“You must live and remember all she taught you,” I cried as the waves pulled her away from me. She sank again. This time, before I could dive for her, a silvery ship fish rose up between us.

Its voice entered my mind as fluid and lovely as a song. “The Red Queen begged my aid, but I am only one and can save only one.”

“Save her daughter,” I sent.

Obediently it dived, emerging with Dragon clinging to its shining fin, coughing and sobbing.

“Dragon! Remember who you are, for all our sakes!” I shouted as the ship fish bore her away.

I watched until they were lost in the dark contours of the waves.

“Help me,” Maruman sent, and I found him struggling to hold the bear above the surface of the waves. “He fainted from the wound.”

I wanted to say that it didn’t matter, that we were all going to drown, but instead, I pulled myself wearily to his side and grasped hold of the bear.

It opened its eyes. They were a brilliant and unmistakable green.

“Rushton!” I croaked in disbelief.

The bear merely sighed and closed his eyes again. I felt him slipping from my grasp. I clung, but he was too heavy. His fur pulled from my clenched fingers, and he sank.

“No!” I dived.

Somehow, despite the inky blackness, I could see him as a dark shape slowly drifting downward. Kicking hard, I reached out, but my grasp was too short. My lungs burned, but I kicked again and grabbed, this time catching hold of his fur.

“I won’t let you die,” I sent grimly.

I tried to pull him back to the surface, but his weight was too great, and he drew me inexorably with him down into the dark sea’s deadly embrace. I should have let go, but I would not. I could not.

“Maruman,” I sent despairingly, and suddenly we were not so much sinking in the sea as drifting through the air. The darkness lightened, and the pressure on my lungs ceased. I could see the silvery cord drawing me through the clear blue sky, down through pristine whiteness to the world of swirling color visible to my spirit eyes.

I floated above my body, thinking how dull and cold it was, repelled at the thought of confining myself to it.

“You do not live only for yourself,” Maruman sent urgently, and I felt his fear as a sharp blow to the face. Only then did I realize that the cord linking my light form to my body was beginning to fade. Propelled by fright, I sank down immediately, releasing the silver thread, and as it fell away from me, I rose gently to consciousness.

I opened my eyes.

Kella was looking into my face and gave a little scream of surprise. “Elspeth? Are you … Can you understand me?”

I made myself nod.

“It is a miracle,” she breathed.

I licked my lips and summoned the energy to speak. “Dragon?”

Kella frowned at me worriedly. “I don’t understand.”

That meant her condition was unchanged.

“Rushton?” I croaked.

She bit her lip. “Elspeth, we moved you from his room. Let me get Roland or Dameon.…”

“He lives?”

“He … he lives, yet, but is … Elspeth, don’t you remember Darius coming here? What he said?”

I struggled to sit up. “I want to see Rushton,” I said.

Kella protested, but even though I was as weak as a newborn calf, I was determined enough that she agreed to help me into the room where he lay.

He looked exactly as he had before. I thought of my recurring vision of him swimming through dark waters always just beyond my reach.

I laid my hand on his cheek and whispered, “My love, I came looking for you and I found you, but you must swim this last stretch to me.”

He did not stir. Had I failed him after all, then? I had recognized him at the last instant, but maybe that had been too late.

Yet I remembered the feel of rough, wet fur in my fingers. I had caught hold of him—I had not let him go.

I thought then of Dameon’s story of the sleeping princess.

Shaking myself free of Kella’s restraining hands, I leaned over and kissed him on the lips. Summoning the longing of my soul, I called his name with my mind.

His eyes opened.

I heard Kella gasp but ignored it.

“Rushton?”

“Elspeth,” he sighed. A faint, sweet smile lifted the corners of his lips. Then a spasm of anguish wrenched his entire body, and I threw my arms about him and clung tightly until the fit faded. “They … they …,” he panted.

I kissed him to silence. “I know, my love. They hurt you.… We will talk of it later. Now you must rest and regain your strength.”

“You will not leave me?”

“I will stay by your side until you wake,” I promised, taking his hand in mine. “Sleep, my love. Sleep and heal.”

E
PILOGUE