Edit April 2010: FFN decided to eat all the scene dividers so I'm having to go back and add them all in again. I'm also removing the review responses. NOTHING ELSE HAS BEEN ALTERED; if you've read this story before, you don't need to read it again (although you're more than welcome to).
It's lovely to have so many people telling me how much they look forward to my updates, it really is. Thank you all so much. To show my appreciation, here, have some more battles, some more dragon action and a kraken.
Somehow he was still going by the time night fell, although he wasn't sure how. It wasn't even really pain any more; in some strange way it had gone past that. George roused him and he allowed himself to be led down into the Swoop to a room, for all the difference it would make to him since he couldn't go to sleep. Numair could barely see at this point, blackness flickering at the edges of his vision, and while he felt light headed the rest of his body seemed heavy and unresponsive. The door was shut behind him and he was left alone; at least it was quiet.
Time passed; he wasn't sure how much, since he couldn't really focus on the candle at the moment. Long enough that he had finished the jug of water left by the bed. Dehydration was starting to be a problem; he was still sweating a lot. Dimly he heard the door open; by the time he'd managed to open his eyes whoever it was had gone, but after a moment he heard footsteps and Daine appeared in the doorway with her own water jug.
"Thanks," he whispered hoarsely when she handed him a tankard, but he was trembling and nearly dropped it.
"Wait," she said softly, working an arm behind his shoulders and helping him half sit up. Too weak to argue, he leaned against her, grateful for the support. "You're still keeping those dampeners off?" That would have earned anyone else a sarcastic remark no matter how bad he felt, but as it was Daine he merely nodded, concentrating on drinking. The first gulps of water didn't seem to hit his stomach, soaking into his mouth and throat on the way down. Draining the tankard, he lay back with a gasp and gave her a grateful look.
"Can I get you some food?" she asked uncertainly. From the way she was looking at him, he deduced that he was looking every bit as bad as he felt.
"I'll just throw up," he replied honestly. Water was all he could cope with right now; even the thought of eating made him feel nauseous. After a moment he smiled crookedly. "How do you like your first siege?"
"That's very funny," she replied sourly. "I'm so glad you've hung on to your sense of humour. Only think how scared I'd be if you hadn't."
Numair grinned and closed his eyes once more. "That's my magelet," he murmured thickly, the weight of the dampeners pressing against him more tightly.
"Can't you let up awhile?"
He shook his head and regretted it instantly. "The healers. They're still going." Feeling better for having had a drink, he sought for something to distract him; it was difficult to think now, but he made the effort anyway. "Daine – this afternoon. You said the dragon can think? It's educated?"
"She," Daine corrected him, and he almost smiled. "She's educated. Even the griffins are like my animals, with all that's in their heads jumbled together higgledy-piggledy. Not her. She's read things in scrolls – I saw them in her mind."
"Amazing," he whispered, meaning it. "I'd heard stories – just never believed them."
"What stories?"
"They're mages. Well, we saw that. She came right up on us. Even you didn't hear her until she was close. And she vanished. Do you hear her now?" She'd brushed off his Gift as if it wasn't there, too. That hadn't happened for many years.
Daine's expression turned distant, the way it did when she was talking to animals; he wondered idly if she knew. "No, sir," she said at last. "But like you said – I didn't hear her until the last." To his amusement, she began fussing around him, taking his boots off and settling cushions behind his head, and he found himself fighting the urge to say something about women and the mothering instinct that would have earned him a slap from any of his older friends. He could tell something was bothering her, though, and held his tongue until she sat down beside him again.
"There's got to be something else I can try. I let the land animals go. They'll do some damage. There's not enough creatures on the ships to work with, though. It's mostly rats out there. I can't work with rats. I've tried, but they don't even want to listen to me."
Numair thought about it. "Whales?" he suggested at last. "Ask them to swim up under the barges – capsize them. The catapults are the biggest danger. Then the red robes on the galleys."
"If whales're out there, I can't hear 'em," Daine answered slowly. "They're not in range." After a moment she began chewing on a thumbnail; automatically he imitated his mother and knocked her hand away from her mouth. That was how he'd been broken of biting his nails when he was small. "I'm fair tired, too," she continued without seeming to notice. "The dragon sucked me almost dry." She reached towards her mouth once more; he grabbed her wrist. Giving him a look, she lowered her hand. "Pity I can't reach the sea. If there's a cold spot in the cellars – "
"Find George. He'll find a way to get you to the water."
"What if the mages on the ships catch me?"
He sighed, thinking about it. This was an unfair burden to put on a thirteen year old girl, and it wasn't fair to ask her to risk her life; unfortunately he couldn't think of anything else to try. With luck, she would be all right; she'd survived worse, after all. He was too tired to be afraid. "It's a risk, but you stand a better chance than anyone with the Gift," he said slowly. "Only a very few can detect wild magic. It's a skill mages in Carthak are discouraged from acquiring. Remember, they think it's an old wives' tale. If someone out there could sense it, he'd have a difficult time convincing the others." That was an understatement. He'd spent fruitless years arguing with most of the university about it; it had taken him a long time to realise that nobody believed him because they couldn't see it. "If you're detected, you can escape among the seals and sea lions," he added, before sighing again. "I know it's dangerous, and I hate to drive you this way, but – we need a miracle," he told her simply. "I'm hoping you can come up with one."
Numair wasn't particularly surprised when Daine nodded and stood up; she'd have done it even if he hadn't said anything. She's as stubborn as I am, and far braver. She looked down at him. "Wish me luck," she said casually, then to his surprise bent and kissed his cheek.
He hugged her. "Luck, magelet." Be careful.
Dawn found him back on the walltop once more, although truthfully he wasn't sure how he was still conscious. The pressure was simply unbelievable and he'd nearly passed out just climbing the stairs to the deck. Daine wasn't back yet, either, which was a worry, but he couldn't feel much of anything right now except pain. Even so, he noticed the dragon – let's be honest, she's difficult to miss – and noted vaguely that the enemy mages had just as much success as he had in trying to use magic against her. Alarm calls rose from either side; shading his eyes, he squinted painfully, and saw copper fire. "Don't," he croaked, grabbing George's arm. "Daine's there." The baron barked an order, and everyone lowered their weapons as the girl and the dragon landed. The immortal didn't stay to socialise, vanishing after taking off the way she had the day before.
"Any luck?" George asked. Daine looked around; Numair raised a hand and waved when she saw him, trying to smile without much success.
"No," she said almost hopelessly; wincing, Numair closed his eyes for a moment. "The whales said no. There – there might be something, but – I don't know. I don't think it can be here in time. I'm sorry."
"You tried," Thayet said reassuringly. "You've done so much already." Numair nodded agreement; he was very proud of her. "I don't think the men from the camp outside the walls are fit to go into battle today, thanks to your friends," the queen added.
"The dragon?" George asked hopefully.
"I don't know," Daine replied. She sounded tired; then again, everyone did. "She's not very strong. I could try and call her back – "
"Well, well," a sneering voice interrupted; the female Stormwing who'd lost an eye to Daine when Numair had first met her. He didn't remember her name, and right now didn't much care, too busy calculating whether blasting the thing out of the sky would really make his skull implode or would just feel like it; he had a score to settle with this particular immortal. "All the little pigs tidy in one pen."
Daine looked around; Numair was glad he'd thought to bring her bow with him. He caught Thom's eye and the six year old began backing towards him with an innocent expression; clever lad.
"What's the answer, mortals?" the Stormwing continued, as Numair carefully slid the bow and quiver from his lap. "Will you surrender the three we want?" The boy's fingers closed around both bow and quiver and he began sidling back towards the group again, still looking innocent.
"We surrender nothing to you and your handlers," Thayet replied. Numair knew that tone; ordinarily the queen was a lovely woman and all her subjects adored her, but let anyone even make a scathing comment about one of her children and she became a demon. "Tell them they've just bought my husband's enmity – and mine."
"You won't live long enough to care about enmity!" the Stormwing countered angrily as Thom passed Daine her weapon. The girl tried to get the bow into position, but she was obviously stiff and exhausted; the immortal laughed and moved out of reach. Daine swore; Numair recognised one of his own favourite oaths. Oops. Note to self; watch your language.
"Children, get below," Thayet snapped. Frowning, Numair looked over the wall and saw the barges getting into position. That wasn't good. "Now!" the queen ordered, in a voice that nobody in Tortall would dare argue with; they fled obediently for the stairs as the first two catapults fired. The boulders slammed into the cliff with enough force to send vibrations throughout the keep; Numair hastily abandoned his seat on the edge of the wall before he fell.
As the second pair of catapults fired, the air screamed with magic, and the dragon was suddenly there above them. Fire shot from her forepaws; Numair watched in fascination as dragon magic swept the flagship clear of its sails, before the gold dragon casually intercepted a boulder and dropped it on the barge that had fired it. Moving forward, he leaned on Daine's shoulder because it was that or collapse, trying to keep as much of his weight off her as possible. "Wasn't she red yesterday?" he asked for lack of anything else to say.
"They change colour," she replied absently, steadying him. "Numair, she's not big enough."
"Maybe she's big enough to stop them. And it's justice, my magelet," he added quietly. "They're the ones that brought her here in the first place." It was about time somebody in Carthak learned about consequences.
He watched silently with the others as the dragon, contemptuously ignoring all the mages' combined efforts to attack her, proceeded to incinerate one of the galleys before turning back to the catapults. Stormwings broke from the trees surrounding the Swoop and began to attack; he heard Daine sob once as their metal claws inflicted serious injury. "Can't you help?" she asked desperately.
"I wish I could," he replied sadly; it was taking everything he had left just to stay standing and hold off the dampeners. "Call her back this way, if you can. Our archers can swat the Stormwings away from her." He turned his attention to the remaining ships, trying to see what their response would be. The dragon seemed indifferent to her injuries, seizing one of the red-robed mages and dropping him into a cluster of Stormwings with an explosion that took him by surprise and brought a cheer from the walls. She intercepted another boulder, this time dropping it from high enough to sink the barge, but Numair didn't notice, his attention caught by a sickly gleam on one of the other barges that he recognised.
"Oh, gods," he whispered. "Call her in, Daine. Quick!"
"She won't listen. What's wrong?"
"They're loading the slings with liquid fire. Call her in fast!"
He felt Daine's magic scream across his senses; she was trembling as he leaned on her. "She won't come," she whispered frantically, trying again. The Stormwings were crowding the dragon now, forcing her back and down; the catapults fired. Liquid fire was terrible stuff. The balls of gelatinous chemicals ignited on impact as long as there was fresh air, and could not be extinguished with water.
The dragon burst into flames. Her scream was the most terrible sound Numair had ever heard in his life, and his eyes filled with tears as he watched the beautiful creature fall from the sky and crash through a barge into the ocean.
Daine's scream was nearly as terrible as the dragon's had been. "I'll kill them! Let 'em get near enough and I'll kill them!"
"Fall back," George ordered shakily as the final catapult fired once more. "Onua, Daine, Numair – let's go!"
Numair grasped Daine's shoulder gently to pull her away; movement out to sea caught his eye, and he stared, finding that he hadn't quite used up his emotions after all. After a moment he found his voice. "What dice did the Graveyard Hag roll?" he asked nobody in particular as more tentacles appeared to join the one he'd first seen. Total silence fell as the defenders stopped their retreat and stared.
He looked down at Daine. "Friend of yours?" he asked quietly. He was fairly sure this was a kraken; he hadn't realised those still existed either.
"Not exactly," she whispered, sounding extremely shaken. "I guess he moves faster than I thought." Another tentacle appeared and deftly flipped the last barge over. "Oh, dear – I think he's going to be nasty," she added, and he almost laughed.
"How big did you say it was?" George asked faintly.
"I didn't." There were a lot of tentacles now, methodically beginning to tear the fleet apart.
Suddenly the pressure against Numair's mind eased; for a moment the only thing he was aware of was relief from the pain. He pushed himself upright and straightened, blinking. "The dampening spells are breaking up."
"Listen!" Thayet yelled suddenly, startling everyone. She was at the other end of the deck, staring out over the woods. Horn calls rang out, and Numair grinned with the others, recognising the signals used by the King's Own. I'll be damned. We've made it. The others all bolted for the stairs; Daine stayed with him as he swayed, feeling as if a massive weight had been lifted from him. He felt dizzy and recognised the signs of a blackout; unable to fight it, his legs folded beneath him.
"I'm all used up," he told Daine thickly, trying to smile at her as he slumped to the deck, his eyes closing despite himself.
"Rest quick," she told him softly. "You and Lady Alanna are going to have to get rid of Himself, out there."
He lifted a hand vaguely in acknowledgement and let it fall, every muscle in his body going limp as he sank into blissful unconsciousness.
When Numair woke up, he was disorientated for a moment until he recognised the room he'd used before. Since he remembered passing out on the deck, he guessed that nobody had been able to wake him and spared a moment to pity whoever had had the job of carrying him down here. It was hardly surprising, he mused as he stretched; that had been one of the hardest things he'd ever done, by the time it ended. Sitting up carefully, he took stock; judging by the light filtering through the window, it was morning, although he had no idea what day it was. He didn't seem to be injured and didn't even feel sore any more, just a little tired, as well as being hungry and thirsty. There was a jug of water by the bed.
Pouring a glass and sipping slowly, he stood up gingerly and padded to the window, absently running his fingers over his jaw; judging by the stubble, he'd been unconscious for a couple of days. That was about what he'd expected. Footsteps sounded in the corridor outside, and he turned as the door opened and Alanna walked in.
"Awake at last?" she greeted him.
"Hello to you, too," he replied, smiling. "Finished chasing ogres, I take it?"
"I was with the Own when we showed up. You didn't think I was going to stay away, did you?"
"I suppose not," he acknowledged, taking another drink of water. "Sorry I missed your arrival. I expect it was quite dramatic."
"Not compared to some of the stories I've been hearing," she replied, raising an eyebrow at him. "Your student's already becoming something of a legend."
Numair grinned, well able to imagine some of the gossip no doubt flying around. "I'm not surprised. How is she taking it?"
"No idea. She passed out not long after you did, and she's still asleep. I've just been to check on her and I think she'll come out of it later today," she added before he had time to feel concerned; she knew him far too well, really.
"How long have I been asleep, anyway?"
"This is the third day, just about – it's just gone dawn. How do you feel?"
"Pretty good, considering. Maybe a little stiff, but I'll be fine once I'm up and moving."
"Was holding the dampeners so difficult?" she asked. "I would have thought that if you were strong enough to break through them in the first place, it would have been easy."
"It was, at first," he replied slowly, trying to think of a way to explain it. Inspiration struck, and he smiled. "I suppose it's like... imagine holding your sword out at arm's length. It doesn't weigh much and it's not difficult. But after a while, your arm starts aching a little. It's not a problem, but it's starting to get uncomfortable. Now imagine holding it like that for a few hours; by then it feels as if the sword is fifty times the size and made of lead instead of steel, and all you can think of is how much you want to let go. Then try it for two days."
Alanna considered this and nodded slowly. "I see. Nice analogy."
"Thanks."
"We still have a kraken out in the cove, by the way. He doesn't seem to be doing anything, but he's making everyone very nervous. Do you feel up to persuading him to relocate, or should we wait for Daine to wake up?"
Numair stretched and rolled his shoulders. "I doubt she'll be strong enough to get him to leave if he doesn't want to," he said reflectively. "If you let me wash and get something to eat first, I'll help you move him. Did I miss anything important?"
"Not really. None of the men on the ships survived; we took some prisoners in the woods, but nobody seems to know anything. Jon's sent word to Carthak, but the emperor hasn't replied yet."
He rolled his eyes. "He'll deny all knowledge and be filled with outrage that pirates dared use Carthaki-manufactured ships in such an enterprise. He may even use the word 'dastardly'."
"I know, but it's the game we have to play. Go and clean up; you smell like a horse."
"Thank you," he replied sarcastically, and grinned. "Don't let Daine hear you say that. It's probably an insult to the horse."
"I'll find us both some breakfast and see you outside."
"Numair, can krakens understand Common?"
"How should I know?"
"That is not what I wanted you to say. If it can't understand us, what do we do?"
He shrugged. "Calamari?" he suggested.
"What?"
"Oh, sorry. It's fried squid."
"That's disgusting. You're not being much help here."
"I didn't think kraken still existed until a few days ago, and as I've been mostly unconscious since then I fail to see why I'm supposed to know anything about them. I haven't had time to read up on the immortals we know are still around, never mind the ones that might be."
The two mages were standing in the harbour of Pirate's Swoop, staring out into the cove. They had the place to themselves; nobody was willing to go within a hundred feet of the ocean while the monster was there.
"Oddly enough, Alanna, they didn't teach us how to talk to kraken at university."
"What did you actually learn there?"
"Almost nothing, which I understand is traditional for a university education," he replied flippantly.
"I'm serious, Numair. If we can't talk to this thing, I don't see how we persuade it to go home."
"You could try mime," he suggested mildly, not feeling particularly helpful at the moment. He was tired, which always put him in an irritating mood, and Alanna generally brought out the worst in him.
"I don't know why I bother talking to you," she muttered. "Come on." They walked out along what remained of the jetty to the end and stood silently for a moment until the water began to boil just below the surface, tentacles moving under the waves. The kraken was definitely not as beautiful as the griffins or the dragon, Numair decided, and found himself trying not to laugh. Daine does have the strangest friends.
Alanna elbowed him and gave him a pointed look; apparently he was supposed to start things off. Numair looked down at the water and let his senses expand. The kraken didn't possess magic as such, but it was definitely immortal, and ancient, older than the dragon. "Greetings, Old One," he called finally. The tentacles stilled; he got the impression that it was listening.
It appeared that the kraken did understand Common, although it didn't seem able to communicate. Hardly surprising; Numair wasn't even sure if the thing had a mouth, but he suspected that if it did, he didn't want to see it. This probably would have been easier with Daine to interpret. He took a breath, considering. "We thank you for your aid." No harm in being polite, after all, and he definitely didn't want to make it angry.
"We are grateful to you," Alanna agreed formally. "We wished to say so before you departed," she added meaningfully.
There was a silence before a single tentacle lifted clear of the surface, coiling back as though to strike and waiting. The two mages exchanged glances; it wasn't quite a threat, more a question. The kraken seemed to be asking what they thought they could do if it – he? She? I don't suppose it matters, and I don't really want to know – chose not to leave. Numair smiled grimly and reached for his Gift, letting the power flow across his skin, his aura flaring into visible light as he countered the kraken's threatening display with one of his own. His senses picked up the tingle of Alanna's magic as she imitated him.
The kraken evidently recognised the Gift; Numair had no idea what such a creature thought of magic, but the strength of the pair evidently gave the monster pause. The tentacle quivered for a moment, then very slowly lowered beneath the waves once more. Maybe he just isn't hungry any more. There was a long silence; when nothing moved across the cove, Alanna looked at him questioningly. He nodded and drew more deeply on his Gift, the air beginning to shimmer around him as the power built. Beside him, the Lioness did the same; she was nowhere near as strong as he was, but nonetheless it was an impressive display.
Apparently they weren't the only ones who thought so. Movement stirred beneath the waves, and the sea began to boil and churn, frothing white. Numair tensed, purple fire flickering at the edge of his vision as Alanna raised a hand, but after a moment they both realised that the disturbance was moving away from them as the kraken left.
The monster's hasty departure posed an interesting new problem. Alanna and Numair stared at the empty cove thoughtfully, allowing their gathered power to die away; where there had been a lot of tentacle-infested sea water, there was now a stretch of sand, a few pieces of wreckage and a couple of gasping stranded fish. "Well, I suppose that'll stop raids from the sea," Numair offered after a moment's thought.
"Shut up and give me a hand," the Lioness answered. "We need to draw the water back in before it affects anything too seriously."
"'We' is a bad idea," he replied quietly, sobering. When she looked at him, he shrugged. "I can bring the sea back, as long as you don't object to a tidal wave obliterating half the village. Black robe, remember?"
His friend rolled her eyes at him. "You really need to work on your self control." Numair's lips twitched; he'd barely opened his mouth before Alanna cut him off. "Not one more word out of you. I know exactly what you're about to say; this is not the time or the place for your frankly juvenile sense of humour."
He gave her his best injured look, trying not to laugh. She ignored him, and a moment later he felt her Gift stream past him as the sea began to slowly rise and reclaim the cove once more.
I absolutely adore writing dialogue between Numair and Alanna, for some reason. In my head they spark off each other wonderfully and make me giggle to myself while I write. The other three books all have more of it just because it's so much fun for me to write.
You guys very nearly didn't get an update today. Our internet crashed in spectacular fashion and it's taken me three hours to fix it. Don't say I never do anything for you! After that, the very least you could do is review, eh? Thanks. There will only be one more chapter of this story before we move on; last chance to tell me what you think.
Loten.