noise grew in his ears, and Petronus felt his head throbbing. A wave of nausea washed over him, and then there were metal hands forcing his fist open.
“You should not have used the dreamstone,” the mechoservitor said, taking the kin-raven from him. Around him, Petronus was suddenly aware of the pandemonium and clamor as they hurriedly struck camp. “What’s happening?” he asked.
But a moment later, he needed no reply. The distant sound of howling told Petronus all he needed to know.
Chapter
4
Vlad Li Tam
Vlad Li Tam walked for another day and night before he found himself growing weary and thirsty. The kin-raven followed, racing up and down the beach repeating back any words that Vlad shouted after it.
As the sun started its slow climb into the morning sky, he paused and wiped sweat from his brow, startled by his perspiration. “I need water,” he said.
“I need water,” the kin-raven repeated, beating its wings as it landed on the black, hard-packed sand.
But from where? Vlad looked around and saw the same beach stretching east and west, running along the base of the same dark cliffs and lapped by waters washed purple in dawn. In two days and nights of walking, he’d seen nothing but the kin-raven, who left at sundown and returned just before dawn.
There’d been no other sign of life. Even the water here seemed dead.
And I would be, too, without the staff. He looked at it in his hands, cast red now in the growing light. It had carried him this far, but he could tell that whatever magicks it bore were only for a season. His muscles were growing aware even as his thirst grew, and he knew he needed to rest soon.
“Water and shelter,” he whispered. The bird was out of earshot, but he felt a tingle in his palm—the slightest thrum —that brought his eyes back to the staff. For a moment, it went dark as dried blood, and then it became silver again. And even as it did, he felt the strength going out of him. It was as if what little he had left rushed out, and he felt his breath rushing out with it.
The kin-raven was back now, and repeating words it should not have been able to hear. “Water and shelter,” it said, turning quickly, wings beating against the hot air, as it shot west again. “Water and shelter.”
Only it wasn’t Vlad’s voice, he realized. It was a woman’s … and he recognized it. He felt a rush of emotion at it. Beloved?
Vlad squinted and saw something in the shadow of the cliff ahead. He forced his feet back to their work, taking the staff in both hands now. As he drew closer, his nose picked up the scent of something foreign in this place, and it took him a moment to find a word that aptly described it.
Life.
The sun lifted higher, its light dispelling the shadows, and Vlad staggered from what he saw ahead of him.
Rising up at the base of the cliff was a patch of green—thick, high grass and a scattering of palm trees unlike any he’d seen before, heavy with an unfamiliar purple fruit. A murmuring sound reached his ears, and his stomach responded to it before he recognized it. He saw the glint of sunlight from its surface and moved toward it—a narrow creek that flowed out from the oasis to hiss into the hot ocean.
I am mad, he thought. But he knew if that were so, he’d been mad for a while now. From the time he’d fallen in love with a ghost in the water and found meaning in its song.
“Water and shelter,” the kin-raven said again. This time, it was Vlad’s own voice, barely a whisper.
“Yes,” he said. He smiled, feeling a sudden lightness in his step even as every muscle and bone he had protested these final steps. Still, he moved forward until he felt the cool water flowing over his feet and the soft green ferns brushing against his arms and hands.
He followed the water to its source—a crack in the side of the cliff—and only then did he lie down in the shade and drink with cupped hands. He took the water slowly, waiting to see what his
“You should not have used the dreamstone,” the mechoservitor said, taking the kin-raven from him. Around him, Petronus was suddenly aware of the pandemonium and clamor as they hurriedly struck camp. “What’s happening?” he asked.
But a moment later, he needed no reply. The distant sound of howling told Petronus all he needed to know.
Chapter
4
Vlad Li Tam
Vlad Li Tam walked for another day and night before he found himself growing weary and thirsty. The kin-raven followed, racing up and down the beach repeating back any words that Vlad shouted after it.
As the sun started its slow climb into the morning sky, he paused and wiped sweat from his brow, startled by his perspiration. “I need water,” he said.
“I need water,” the kin-raven repeated, beating its wings as it landed on the black, hard-packed sand.
But from where? Vlad looked around and saw the same beach stretching east and west, running along the base of the same dark cliffs and lapped by waters washed purple in dawn. In two days and nights of walking, he’d seen nothing but the kin-raven, who left at sundown and returned just before dawn.
There’d been no other sign of life. Even the water here seemed dead.
And I would be, too, without the staff. He looked at it in his hands, cast red now in the growing light. It had carried him this far, but he could tell that whatever magicks it bore were only for a season. His muscles were growing aware even as his thirst grew, and he knew he needed to rest soon.
“Water and shelter,” he whispered. The bird was out of earshot, but he felt a tingle in his palm—the slightest thrum —that brought his eyes back to the staff. For a moment, it went dark as dried blood, and then it became silver again. And even as it did, he felt the strength going out of him. It was as if what little he had left rushed out, and he felt his breath rushing out with it.
The kin-raven was back now, and repeating words it should not have been able to hear. “Water and shelter,” it said, turning quickly, wings beating against the hot air, as it shot west again. “Water and shelter.”
Only it wasn’t Vlad’s voice, he realized. It was a woman’s … and he recognized it. He felt a rush of emotion at it. Beloved?
Vlad squinted and saw something in the shadow of the cliff ahead. He forced his feet back to their work, taking the staff in both hands now. As he drew closer, his nose picked up the scent of something foreign in this place, and it took him a moment to find a word that aptly described it.
Life.
The sun lifted higher, its light dispelling the shadows, and Vlad staggered from what he saw ahead of him.
Rising up at the base of the cliff was a patch of green—thick, high grass and a scattering of palm trees unlike any he’d seen before, heavy with an unfamiliar purple fruit. A murmuring sound reached his ears, and his stomach responded to it before he recognized it. He saw the glint of sunlight from its surface and moved toward it—a narrow creek that flowed out from the oasis to hiss into the hot ocean.
I am mad, he thought. But he knew if that were so, he’d been mad for a while now. From the time he’d fallen in love with a ghost in the water and found meaning in its song.
“Water and shelter,” the kin-raven said again. This time, it was Vlad’s own voice, barely a whisper.
“Yes,” he said. He smiled, feeling a sudden lightness in his step even as every muscle and bone he had protested these final steps. Still, he moved forward until he felt the cool water flowing over his feet and the soft green ferns brushing against his arms and hands.
He followed the water to its source—a crack in the side of the cliff—and only then did he lie down in the shade and drink with cupped hands. He took the water slowly, waiting to see what his
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