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  Crull’s face turned a dark red. ‘I did not advise that we rush in, only that we consider that it may serve us to find out what the other clans know. If the beasts killed an entire Raknah hunting party we have cause to be concerned. The Raknah are foul dogs, but they are fierce fighters.’

  ‘Crull is right.’ Nevan weighed in. ‘We cannot turn our back on this we . . .’

  ‘Silence!’ Karnit cut him off.’ We will decide on the Gathering later, but first,’ he pointed to Tallis, ‘we must settle this matter. Let us all vote on what we gathered for.’ He folded his arms and stood, legs spread, surveying them all. ‘What say you all, do we cast this man out?’

  ‘I do not think we should make our vote in front of him,’ Miram said. Karnit slowly turned to her.

  ‘We will do as I see fit.’ He held her gaze. ‘If he has friends or enemies he should know them. Now, how do you vote?’

  Miram’s full lips tightened. ‘No. I say no. He shall stay.’

  ‘As do I,’ Crull echoed, a challenge in his gaze.

  ‘I say yes.’ Thadin’s lip curled as he looked at Tallis and Karnit turned his gaze on the youngest member of the circle, Nevan. The dark-haired hunter looked worried.

  ‘I am concerned by what we have heard.’ He did not look at the leader as he spoke. ‘But still I will not vote to cast him out. Lives were saved.’

  Karnit’s mouth hardened into a thin line as he turned to the Dreamer.

  ‘Shila? What do the Guides tell you?’

  The Dreamer looked down at Tallis, her pale eyes unreadable. He could not help but hold his breath. Shila held his fate in her hand. That Karnit would vote to cast him out he had no doubt. Shila could change that. But would she? She was Dreamer of the clan, their conduit to the Guides, and her decision would be directed by them. Would the Guides still want one who did not carry the blood of their clan? He waited, his heart thudding against his ribs.

  ‘I have seen many things for this young hunter,’ Shila said finally. ‘Many paths, but to be Outcast by this Circle is not one of them. Do as you will.’ She addressed the last to Karnit, and Tallis felt an overwhelming feeling of release rush through him.

  ‘So be it,’ the leader grated. He turned to Tallis. ‘You have your answer. Go now.’ His eyes were cold and despite the Circle’s decision, Tallis felt a chill cross his skin. Karnit had wanted him gone. How long would it be before he had his way? He rose to his feet and, with a bow of his head, turned and climbed the stairs, leaving the cavern to look for his mother.

  12

  By the time Shaan returned to the inn, it was late. Tuon was waiting for her in the kitchen, but did not ask her anything, and Shaan did not offer. The events at the temple lay between them, unspoken. They shared a meal of leftover soup and listened to Torg throwing out the last of the stragglers in the bar, his deep voice raised over the protesting drunk pleas. Then they went up to their beds.

  At the top of the stairs, Tuon turned and hugged her hard. ‘I’m glad you’re all right,’ she said. ‘Rorc is a good man; he only does what he must.’

  Shaan nodded and hugged her back, worried by what she saw. Was Tuon in love with the Commander? If so, what would she do for him? What would she risk? The thought made her cold and she hugged Tuon tightly. She went to bed with a heavy heart and her dreams, when they came, were full of fire and death and a voice calling to her, the words like the sound of talons rasping on stone.

  The following day, she dragged herself through her chores. Fishing in the morning on a bank of sea grass in the bay, she managed to catch nothing but a few sandflytes. Torg was not pleased and sent her to the markets at the port to buy more. The thick stench of rotting seaweed at low tide, coupled with the crowds, gave her a pounding headache and she wanted to do nothing but lie down and sleep; but there was no time for rest. She was on mid-meal duty at the yards and, after that, she’d be cleaning out the rotting fruit from the bottom of the serpents’ feed baskets and re-filling the grain stores. It was backbreaking work and by sunset her body was aching and her mind numb. Her only consolation was that she was not sent back to the Dome. No workers were. She knew she should wonder why, but she was too exhausted to care.

  After a wash at the Red Pepino, she wanted nothing more than to numb her mind even more and without bothering to eat she took what coin she could spare and made her way to the Serpent Inn in the traders’ quarter. A dimly lit cavernous space, the Serpent suited her mood and was a long way from the stench of fish. It was frequented more by serpent riders than drunk sailors and there were no regulars there to harass her for free wine.

  She took over a table against a wall and sat glumly fingering a solid green tumbler full of spicy red wine, listening to the chatter of people around her. It was crowded tonight. The room formed an L-shape around the bar and in the longest section, where she was, there were thirty or forty others, mostly Serpent Isle folk and ordinary riders, leaning on the bar or drinking at the tables, while in the back the more private benches and booths were almost completely taken over by the sept leaders and ship mistresses. It seemed everyone was in the mood to dim the real world tonight.

  She was staring mindlessly over the rim of her glass when she saw the unmissable figure of Sept Leader Balkis walk up to the bar. Her stomach lurched and she froze. She hadn’t thought that he might be here. She pressed herself into the back of the bench, into the shadows near the wall and swallowed a large mouthful of wine then another, staring at his back. The liquid cut a warm swathe down her throat, helping to dull her anxiety, but it didn’t turn her eyes away. She watched him lean on the bar and start talking to a woman wearing a low cut, figure-hugging dress that exposed more than her fair share of cleavage.

  What was she so scared about anyway, she asked herself? Maybe he had already forgotten their encounter. She tipped the glass to her lips again. She had as much right to be here as he, after all. The woman he was talking to threw back her head and laughed, thrusting her breasts towards him as she did so. Shaan took another large swallow of wine and wiped her mouth as she lost a dribble down her chin then slouched back against the bench. Forget about him, she counselled herself, and everything that had happened, that was why she’d come here. She forced her gaze away.

  A group of boisterous young men at the far end of the bar, probably farmers by their dress, were leering at the serving women as they brought them ale. She watched them for a while, wondering why the women put up with it, but still her gaze was drawn back again to Balkis. He was a fine looking man. Tall and broad shouldered he had blond hair that curled slightly against a tanned neck, a strong jaw and straight nose and a pair of blue eyes that had all the female yard workers blushing whenever he walked by. But it was also his eyes that gave him away. They were filled with arrogance. The son of a wealthy merchant, Balkis had had an easy life with everything handed to him.

  The door to the inn suddenly banged open and a youth ran in, breathing hard. He blundered into an empty table sending chairs and table scraping across the tile. All conversation nearby stopped and heads swivelled in his direction.

  ‘Oi!’ The barman shouted, but the youth ignored him. He took a few more steps, half hunched to run, and cast a desperate glance around the room. Looking for an escape, Shaan thought, and then recognition hit her. She knew that face. It was older now, but she knew him. Tamlin. Tam she used to call him. He was carrying a small leather bag.

  Blood rushed tingling through her skin as the youth’s eyes roved across her, flicked off, and then swept straight back. He’d recognised her too. Whoever he was running from would be through that door any moment. The barman was reaching for him. Shaan’s heartbeat quickened. She should stay still, do nothing. But she couldn’t. She began to rise from her seat. Time seemed to turn backwards. She was nine years old again, running with the street packs and one of them was in trouble. Right or wrong didn’t come into it.

  The door to the inn banged opened again, but she didn’t look to see who it was. A man was shouting, ‘Thief! St
op him. Thief!’

  People were moving and from the corner of her eye she saw Balkis advancing on him. She kept her eyes on Tamlin, flicking her gaze to the left quickly, then gave him the sign that said there was an exit behind her. You didn’t forget the signs.

  She swayed toward him as if she were drunk. To others she hoped it looked as though she made a clumsy attempt to stop him. Tamlin rushed toward her. As he reached her she made to grab him, but instead she twisted at the last moment and fell clumsily, knocking over a nearby set of chairs, sending Balkis stumbling. Imitating a drunken sprawl, she managed to knock the table into the path of the young thief’s pursuers, then she tried to roll aside as people tripped over the furniture and each other, but she wasn’t fast enough. A large body fell, slamming her into the hard tile. Her head smacked against the floor and pinpoints of light danced in her vision. There was a grunt and a hand landed by her ear. Her ribs aching, she tilted her head to see Tamlin disappear out the dark back passageway.

  She felt a quick stab of triumph followed by sadness. He had been such a smart little boy; he should have found a different path to follow. She took a breath and realised the weight on top of her was gone. Dizzy, she looked up to see a black-clad man looking down at her. She stared at him for a heartbeat and then registered what he was: a Hunter.

  She blinked. She should be terrified, but the only thought that come to her was, surely a Hunter couldn’t be stopped just by tripping him up? She smiled. That seemed funny, even though her ribs and face were aching. Perhaps she was drunk. He grabbed her arm and yanked her up with one hand. All the blood seemed to go to her feet. Her knees buckled and the room swam around her.

  ‘What is your name?’ he asked in a slow measured tone.

  She blinked and tried to focus on his face and standing at the same time.

  ‘She stopped us catching him!’ An irate voice piped up behind him. ‘Stupid bitch, answer him!’

  Shaan wiped some blood from her chin.

  ‘I know her.’ Balkis stepped forward. ‘She’s a worker in the yards.’ He turned a look of disgust on her. ‘I don’t know her name, but she is obviously drunk. In fact she has proven to be stupid and clumsy even when sober. Don’t bother with her, she’s of no consequence.’

  Shaan felt heat rise to her cheeks. The Hunter looked at her without speaking and narrowed his eyes. Shaan looked at the floor. She had the distinct feeling that he was suspicious of her ‘drunken’ state but probably had little interest in chasing a child thief. He released her. ‘I will leave this with you then Sept Leader.’ He looked at Balkis. ‘You will pass it on to the city guards?’

  ‘Of course,’ Balkis answered.

  ‘Thank you, Sept Leader.’ He nodded at him then turned and walked out of the inn, the crowd parting hurriedly before him.

  ‘But . . .’ The man who had lost his purse looked around beseechingly at the quickly dispersing crowd. His eye fell on Shaan and his brows came together. ‘You!’ he growled and raised a hand menacingly, but Balkis suddenly stepped in between them.

  ‘Come sir,’ he said smoothly. ‘Don’t bother with this woman. Let me buy you a cup of fine Cermezian wine. A runner will be sent to the city guard and when they arrive I will sort all this mess out. The boy will be easy to find. Come, drink with me while you wait.’ He held out his arm to a table in the back.

  ‘Well, I suppose . . .’ The man cast her a dark look then, grumbling, followed Balkis to the dim corner of the room.

  Behind her a serving woman started righting the tables and chairs. Shaan watched Balkis leave, wondering why he had stepped in between them and pretended not to know her name. The man could be a member of the Council. Was Balkis trying to protect her or improve life for himself? She shook her aching head, most likely the latter, she concluded.

  The Sept Leader glanced at her fleetingly as he took his seat, but she could not decipher his look. She made her way back over to her bench, passing the same serving woman as before. ‘Wine?’ she said.

  The woman gave her a foul look and slammed the last chair upright, before she turned and made for the bar.

  Shaan slumped back on her bench, grateful the innkeeper hadn’t thrown her out. The other patrons had gone back to their drinks, but tension still lingered and their voices were quieter than before. None were comfortable when the Faithful showed their hand. She wondered if the incident would be reported back to Rorc. Knowing her luck lately, it probably would be and he’d have the reason he wanted to do what he liked with her. But right at the moment she couldn’t much care.

  She rubbed tentatively at a lump forming on the back of her head and wondered if things could get any worse. The serving woman thumped some more wine in front of her and held out her hand. Sighing, Shaan pulled out some coins and the woman snatched them and swept off.

  ‘Not very friendly that,’ a voice said.

  Shaan turned to see a young girl with fair hair watching her, her thin fingers curled around a glass. Her blue dress was cut low across the bodice and split to her thigh on one side. And if Shaan wasn’t mistaken, the fabric was of a higher quality than most could afford.

  ‘No, doesn’t like me I think.’ Shaan eyed her across the rim of her glass.

  The girl smiled revealing perfect teeth. ‘Don’t think she likes anyone.’ She swayed over and, sitting gracefully down on the bench opposite her, offered a slim, white hand ‘Nilah.’

  Shaan hesitated a moment then shook it. ‘Shaan.’

  Nilah sipped her wine and they sat in silence for a moment. Shaan found her eyes going back to Balkis. She could barely see him in the shadowy corner and people kept moving around blocking her view. She would love to know what he was thinking. Her head was aching dully and she knew she should stop drinking, it would only make it worse.

  ‘Does it hurt?’

  She swung her eyes back to the girl. ‘What?’

  ‘Your head?’

  ‘A bit, but that’s what happens when your face gets bounced off the floor.’

  ‘I wouldn’t know.’ Nilah took a small sip of her wine and gave her a strange smile, as if she knew something. ‘More wine?’

  Shaan nodded and drained her glass. If the girl wanted to spend her own coin that was fine with her. Nilah waved the serving woman over again and waited in silence while she refilled their glasses. Then she leaned forward over the table toward her. ‘I saw you,’ she said quietly with a smile.

  Shaan’s fingers froze around her glass, but she stayed sitting relaxed back against the bench. ‘What do you mean?’

  The young girl’s eyes glittered. ‘You knew that thief didn’t you? And when you got up, you did something with your hand. You helped him.’

  Shaan smiled and stroked the sides of her glass and thought about the knife strapped to her thigh. She could scare her with it. Poke her under the table. Slowly she pushed herself off the back of the bench, and rested her forearms on the table, the smile fading as she leaned toward her.

  ‘You should watch what you say.’ She pitched her voice low. ‘Bad things can happen to a skinny rich bitch who lets her tongue run away with her.’ She took a sip of wine and watched the smile falter on Nilah’s lips. But she saw too her eyes had gone hard. Perhaps she was tougher than she looked. Shaan doubted it. More likely she just thought she was.

  She dropped one hand down to her lap close to the knife. Nilah’s eyes followed it. Her smile was gone, but her eyes still glittered.

  ‘You don’t need to threaten me. I’m not interested in telling the city guards anything. Or the Faithful for that matter.’

  Shaan looked at her. ‘What do you want then?’ The girl didn’t even flinch when she talked of the Faithful.

  Nilah shrugged. ‘Nothing. I just like interesting people, that’s all.’

  ‘I’m not interesting,’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know about that.’ She tilted her head toward the bar. ‘They think you are.’

  Shaan followed her look. The group of farmer boys she’d seen earlier had mo
ved. Now they were hovering closer to their table. The altercation with the Hunter didn’t seem to have put them off their drinking and they were still as loud as before. And three of them were casting glances at her and Nilah and sniggering to each other over their ales.

  ‘That tall one with the dark hair’s not bad. Nice wide shoulders.’ Nilah giggled. He was tall and broad shouldered, but he had a set of ears you could hang a bucket from.

  Shaan snorted and turned back to her wine. ‘Farmers. Probably wouldn’t know what to do with it anyway.’

  ‘Well at least he’s got something you could hold on to!’ Nilah said and Shaan almost choked on her wine. Perhaps the girl wasn’t such bad company after all.

  Three glasses of wine later she decided that she’d been mistaken about the farmer. She turned from yet another of Nilah’s garbled stories to cast her eye again over the tall boy with the wide shoulders. Maybe his ears weren’t that big. She watched him pick up his mug of ale and laugh at something one of the others had said. His hands looked large and strong. Worker’s hands.

  Shaan felt herself warming to him. She let her eyes trail down his broad shoulders, down his back . . .

  ‘Did you know, I once sent three men into the sea when I was on my little boat.’ Nilah grabbed her hand. Shaan turned her eyes away from the boy.

  ‘What?’

  Nilah’s face seemed to take a moment to come into focus. Around them the room was very noisy. Shaan tried to concentrate on what the girl was saying, she could see her lips moving but it just wasn’t making sense.

  ‘I pulled it up and they fell in!’ Nilah burst into loud laughter.

  Shaan gave her a small smile and nodded as the girl slapped her arm and giggled. She saw the boy from the corner of her eye moving away, following his companions. Was he leaving? Nilah was still laughing loudly and prattling about something. She was starting to get on her nerves.