Read Online The Waterless Sea by Kate Constable - Free Book Online Page A

despite herself, Calwyn had to smile.
    â€˜You’ re right. We chanters are too quick to think we should use magic for every little task. I could sew it up myself, I daresay, though the sisters in Antaris never thought much of my skills with a needle –’ Heben interrupted. ‘Forgive me, my lady, but there is no time to mend it now. There is a sandstorm ahead. We must go on, before it catches us.’
    The little band set off once more, in grimmer silence than before. Calwyn sensed dismay rising in Heben now, stronger with every step, though he urged on his hegesu more and more swiftly, as if he could outpace his own misgivings as well as the sandstorm. The wind had changed; at the crest of each dune, Calwyn could see a smudge on the horizon, a dirty smear that grew larger and larger. She dug her heels into her hegesu until she had caught up with Heben. ‘Should we take shelter?’
    Already the wind was whipping at their ankles, stirring up the golden sand around the hems of their robes. Calwyn saw Halasaa, a long way behind, cough noiselessly, and pull a fold of cloth across his mouth.
    â€˜There’ s nowhere to take shelter, my lady,’ said Heben. He looked to the horizon. ‘I’ m afraid we’ ll have to sit it out as best we can.’
    Mica ran up to them. ‘Cal! Why don’ t you and me sing up a wind to hold it back?’
    â€˜We could try, to keep it at arm’ s-length.’
    Heben hesitated, then gave a brief nod. They all dismounted, and drew the hegesi into a close huddle at the top of one of the dunes. The animals were distressed, bleating and pressing together for comfort. Heben tried to persuade them to kneel, but they would not. At last Halasaa laid his hand on the head of each beast, between their eyes, and, one by one, they knelt in the sand. The travellers piled their packs in the centre of the tight circle, and sat, knees touching, with their backs to the desert. As the wind howled higher, Heben showed Halasaa how to wrap his headcloth across his face. Calwyn and Mica left their faces uncovered as the sand whirled about them.
    Calwyn began a low chantment, a song of the Isles, and Mica joined her. Their two voices rose together, intertwined, sounding frail beside the ever-growing roar of the storm. Calwyn saw doubt in Heben’ s eyes; he feared that their voices were too flimsy to pit against the might of the approaching storm.
    There was a flicker of movement beneath the stirring sand as a small snuffling animal scurried for shelter, its ears as long as a rabbit’ s: one of the nadi Heben had described. Calwyn saw the white flash of its rump as it whisked into a hole. If only they could do the same. . .
    The wind was rising, and their song rose with it, steady and lilting, still audible as it threaded through the howl of the storm. Mica’ s wide golden eyes were fixed on Calwyn’ s face as they sang. Together they wove the chantment, the wind that wound about their huddle of bodies like wool about a spindle, wrapping them around and around, to shield them from the whipping sand. The storm looked like a yellow mist, creeping ever closer. But it was a hot, stinging mist, a deathly cloud.
    Then it was upon them. Heben’ s eyes narrowed above the tight wrapping of the cloth over his face, but he did not flinch. Halasaa had curled himself into the shape of a rock, his knees pressed against his eyes. Calwyn held the cloth up close to her face with both hands, afraid the wind would tear it away. Outside their tight circle, the sand rose in a blinding cloud that blotted out the sky, the sun, the harsh light. The scream of the wind rose too, drowning out Calwyn and Mica’ s song.
    Mica was still singing; Calwyn could see her lips moving, and she herself was singing too, though she couldn’ t hear her own voice. The spell was holding. The space in which they crouched was untouched by the storm, the sand beneath them a smooth circle of