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sf_fantasyB CoeSorcerer's PlagueB. Coe enthralled readers and critics with his Winds of the Forelands, an epic fantasy full of political intrigue, complex characters, and magical conspiracy. Now he 3 страница



"She's right, Oren!" he managed to say. "You must leave! Now!" "But, Papa-"

"You feel it, too?" Aiva asked. He could hear the strain in her voice. "Yes. I can't fight it much longer."

"Fight what?" Oren asked, gaping at both of them, looking so terribly young.Giraan could answer, a wind began to rise, making the candle flames dance and rattling the chairs and tables. Aiva's wind. That was one of her powers: mists and winds. And fire.

"Leave now!" Giraan shouted, though it took all his strength to make himself heard over what was fast becoming a gale. And in making that effort, he felt his control over the storm of magic raging within him waver. It was only for an instant, but that was enough. He heard the rending of wood as if it were thunder, and he saw a crack open in the roof of his home.'s wind keened like a wild beast, extinguishing the candles, so that the only light in the house came from Panya, the pale moon, whose glow filtered through the trees.was on his feet, his eyes wide with fear, but still he wouldn't leave. "What's happening?" he cried. "I don't understand!"

"The fever is attacking our magic," Giraan said. Again his grip on the power failed. It was all he could do to direct the magic at the table by the bed and not at his son. The table crumbled as if hammered by some unseen demon. "We can't control it!"

"My god!" Oren whispered. "Seslanne!" He backed toward the door. "I'm sorry…"

"Don't apologize!" Aiva told him. "Go to her!"tried to pour out the magic inside him by calling upon his other power, knowing that he could do no further damage to the house with language of beasts. But he hadn't the control. He knew that he was speaking gibberish to the wild creatures in the woods around Runnel- wick, but still shaping power coursed through his body. So he wasn't at all surprised when the ball of fire flew from Aiva's side of the bed and crashed against the opposite wall. Immediately, flames started to climb the wood, licking at the ceiling and filling the room with thick smoke. Between her fire and winds and his shaping, their home would soon be a pile of charred ruins.

"We have to get out of here!" he said, taking her hand.

"What's the use?" she said, coughing.

"Maybe Besse can find a way to help us."

"Besse will be sick before long."than argue the point further, he pulled her out of the bed and toward the doorway. More power slipped out, but he managed to direct it. He heard the ceiling above the bed groan and collapse. Another fireball crashed into the floor near them. The wind howled at their backs. They made it outside, though not before both of them had been singed. Aiva fell to the ground, gasping for breath, and Giraan dropped to his knees beside her.could feel his power spilling over and it was all he could do to keep directing his shaping magic at something other than himself or Aiva. All around him tree limbs were shattering, splinters of wood floating down like snow. He could hear birds crying out. Wolves howled in the distance. Fire shot into the sky from Aiva's hands and still the wind blew, buffeting the trees. Looking toward the marketplace, Giraan saw that the sky was aglow with fire magic. Voices cried out in pain or fear or both.

"How many are sick?" he whispered.

"Giraan."crawled to Aiva's side. Her eyes were fixed on the sky above her, but he wasn't sure that she could see anything.

"I can't stop it," she said. "I'm so tired, but I can't stop. It's like I'm bleeding."couldn't either. The dam had broken. Trying to stop the flow of power now would be like standing in the center of Silverwater Wash at the height of the thaw, and trying to hold back the waters with his hands. His shaping magic still battered the trees and the remains of his home, but he could feel it weakening. The fire rising from his beloved was dimming; her wind had slackened.

"Aiva, no! Fight it!"

"I don't know how, Giraan! Do you? Can't you help me?"sounded so frightened, so weak, so far away. Clenching his fists, feeling tears on his cheeks, the wheelwright looked up at the fiery orange sky and roared in his anguish. Because he didn't know how. He couldn't stop his own magic from flowing, much less hers. He couldn't stop any of it. It seemed that his entire village was at war with a foe they couldn't see or understand. He could hear it so clearly now: the screams and the rending of wood; the sounds of a town under siege. His nostrils stung with the smoke of a hundred fires. And he could do nothing but kneel there watching the light in Aiva's eyes die away. After years of holding his magic inside, he could feel it lashing out at his home, at his trees, at the earth beneath him. But it was of no use to him in this fight.saw Aiva's lips moving. Giraan. She was saying his name, but she hadn't the strength to make herself heard.



"Yes, my love. I'm here." But even as he said it, he felt himself fall onto his side. He was too weak to kneel anymore. V'Tol. Magic. Life. It was leaving him. He was nothing but an empty vessel, a husk.

"Why, Qirsar? Wasn't it your will that we live thus? Did we fail you in some way?"no answer came. Just the cries from the village marketplace, and that baleful orange glow flickering above the trees.sat on a small rise overlooking the river, gazing northward, her hands working the rushes into place. Occasionally she reached for her blade to thin a strand or cut off a frayed end. But she never looked away. She didn't have to, not with hands as deft and sure as hers. She'd been weaving baskets for more years than she cared to count. She knew her craft. Just as she knew magic.her perch above the gently flowing waters, she could see and hear her spell at work. Let the Qirsi dismiss Mettai blood magic as a lesser power. Let the Eandi-her own people-make outcasts of the Mettai. Lici knew just how potent her magic could be.the people of Runnelwick knew it as well. Their cries floated up to her. The glow of their fires danced in the night sky. The forest swayed with their winds and shuddered with the power of their shaping magic. All because Lici had decided that it should be so. They were her puppets, her playthings. She could make them do anything she wanted.lifted a hand. "Look," she whispered to the night. "No strings." Then she laughed.cart horse stamped and shook her head. Lici had left the cart outside the village, venturing into its lanes on foot. That way they'd think her poor, they'd buy her baskets out of pity, out of desire to do good. That was what she had decided, and she'd been right. They were as stupid as they were weak, and now, because of this, they were suffering the fate their kind had earned so long ago.was but a feeble, old woman-a Mettai, no less-and she had done this to an entire village of Y'Qatt. One small cut on her hand. One among so many. Yes, let them laugh at blood magic. Soon enough every Y'Qatt in the Southlands would be trembling.3began as a rumor passed among the children of the village. They spoke of it in hushed tones during their lessons in the small sanctuary at the north end of the marketplace; they conjured wild explanations for it as they walked together back to their homes. Before long their parents heard the whispers as well, and though the men and women of Kirayde might normally have frowned upon such gossip, in this case the tale told by their sons and daughters was so extraordinary that they couldn't resist.Lici was gone.could say with any certainty on what day she left the village. Such was the nature of the woman and her standing in Kirayde. Sometimes, even when she hadn't gone away, Besh went for ten or twelve days without seeing her. At other times it seemed that she was dogging his every step, so often did he cross her path. No doubt it was the same for the others in the village. He preferred to ignore and avoid her, and yet in a settlement so small that was not always his choice to make.his part, Besh heard of the old witch's disappearance only a few days after speaking of her with Mihas. He was working in his garden again, waiting for his grandson to meet him there after his lessons with the prior. Usually the boy could hardly draw breath for all the things he wished to tell Besh about what he had learned and what games he and his friends had played in between lessons, and this day was no different. Except, the old man soon realized, nothing that the boy was saying had anything to do with lessons or games or the other children.

"Slow down a moment, Mihas," he said at last, holding up a dirty hand to silence the boy and settling back on his heels. "What is it you're talking about?"

"Her house!" the boy said. "It's just empty!"

"Whose house?"

"Old Lici's!" he said, as if Besh were the most foolish man on Elined's earth.

"What were you doing at her house?"

"I told you, it wasn't me. It was Keff and Vad."

"And they are?"rolled his eyes. "Nissa's brothers, the two oldest ones." Besh considered this for a moment. "She's gone, you say?"

"Yes! Her horse and cart are gone, too. No one's seen her in days." "How many days?"boy shrugged. "I don't know. A lot."

"She's left before, you know. There was a time when she'd go to other villages to sell her baskets. Sometimes she'd be gone for more than half a turn."boy frowned, his excitement dampened for the moment. "I didn't know that," he said.with good reason. She hadn't done it for many years, since well before Mihas was born. In truth, it struck Besh as odd that she'd leave her but at all. He'd never thought that he would see the day when she left the village for any length of time. It wasn't that she was bound to Kirayde or any of its people-aside from Sylpa, long dead and buried, Lici had no real friends, and of course, she'd lost her family before coming to the village. But had she wanted to leave, she would have done so long ago. Instead, she'd made a point of remaining, of enduring the taunts of children and the silence of their parents, of staying right here, just where she knew she wasn't wanted. Besh had assumed that she would die here, if for no other reason than to burden those who would have to dig her grave.the other hand, he'd heard of old men and women from other Mettai villages simply going off into the wilderness to die when they thought that their time had come. As far as Besh knew, that had never been common practice here in Kirayde, but perhaps it had been in whatever village she'd come from.shook his head slowly. He couldn't imagine Lici doing anything so… quiet. For years he had expected that when her time finally did come, the entire village would know about it.

"What is it, Grandfather?"looked at Mihas. "Nothing. I'm just not ready to assume that Lici is gone for good. Not after only a few days."

"Keff and Vad are. They think that her but is filled with gold and silver from all the baskets she used to make. They're talking about going there when both moons are full and searching for it."

"Are they?" Besh said. "Well, you tell them that if anyone-anyone at all-takes even one grain of river sand from Lici's hut, I'll hold the two of them responsible."

"But, Grandfather, if I say all that to them, they'll think that I told you everything!"

"You did tell me," he said mildly.

"Yes, but…" The boy shook his head. "Never mind." He started to walk away.

"Mihas."boy faced him again, looking sullen.

"If somehow those boys don't get my message, I'll hold you responsible. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Grandfather."chuckled as he watched the lad go. Next time, Mihas would think twice before relating to him all that he and his friends said. That was regrettable, but this was too important. Even if Lici had left the village for good, it was not the place of two boys to root through her belongings.the next several days, the old man began to listen more closely to the tales bandied about in the village, hoping that he might hear something that would help him make sense of Lici's disappearance. But with each day that went by, the stories about her grew ever more wild. A man from her past, perhaps that Eandi merchant who had once tried so hard to win her affections, had returned one night and taken her away. Lici herself had used magic to shed the burdens of old age, transforming herself into a beautiful young woman who then ran off to find a new life in some other village. Sylpa, her old mentor, had returned from Bian's realm and had turned Lici into a wraith so that together they might haunt the woods surrounding Kirayde. One man, who was nearly as old as Lici, swore that he'd seen her in the forest late one night, running with a pack of wolves.a turn went by, and still she did not return. Gradually the power of Besh's threat faded, and the older children began once more to eye the old witch's house, wondering what riches were hidden within. At Besh's urging, the village elders had a guard placed at the house day and night. Several of the men living in the village took turns at this, including Sirj, Elica's husband. But even this precaution, though extraordinary in such a small village, did little to ease the growing tension. If anything, it made matters worse, by drawing attention to the fact that Lici had gone, leaving a house filled with who knew what. Soon it wasn't just the children who were expressing eagerness to get inside.

"She's not coming back," Geovri, the wheelwright, was heard to say again and again., an older man, almost as old as Besh himself, was said to agree with the wheelwright. "She might well be dead by now. If she left gold in there it ought to be ours. All of ours," he was always quick to add. "It should be divided among all the families in Kirayde."the end of the Dreaming Moon's waxing, the village elders found themselves with little choice but to do something.met just before sundown on the last day of the waxing. Both moons would be full this night; only half a turn remained until the rise of the Reaping Moon and the beginning of the Harvest. This year's crops looked healthy; Besh was certain that his people had no cause to fear a bad Harvest. But this was always an anxious time in the village. The colder turns in the highlands could be harsh and a poor Harvest might mean lean, perhaps even desperate times when the Snows began. The clamor for Lici's supposed riches would only get worse. Walking past the marketplace on his way to the sanctuary, where the elders usually met, Besh couldn't help thinking it odd that a woman like Lici, who throughout her life had shunned the company of others and had been shunned in turn, should cause such a stir simply by leaving.elders had decided to meet in closed session, fearing that an open discussion attended by all in the village might turn ugly. As it was, a crowd had already gathered outside the sanctuary when Besh arrived, and though most of those milling about in the lane seemed more curious than angry, he was troubled by their presence.

"We know you'll do the right thing, Besh," someone called as he climbed the steps to the oaken doors.others murmured their agreement.knew that he should let the remark pass-perhaps as a younger man he would have. But as he had lost his hair and his strength, he had also lost his ability to suffer fools.

"And what is the right thing?" he asked, turning to face them. "Do you mean the right thing for you, or for Lici?"

"But she's gone."

"Yes, Geovri, she's gone. I seem to remember that you ventured west last year to trade blankets to the Fal'Borna. You were gone more than a turn. Should we have divided up the goods in your house while you were gone?"

"That's different! I left Kisa here. And the children."

"So that's what gives you the right to take Lici's things? The fact that she wasn't blessed with a fine family as you were?"

"No, that's not…" He frowned. "That's not what I meant," he muttered.

"Remember," Besh said, raising his voice and looking at all of them. "Whatever we decide to do with Lici's things can one day be done with yours as well. What we do as a community we do to the community.". He turned once more and pulled open one of the double doors.

"She was a curse on this village from the moment she arrived here," someone shouted at his back, someone who sounded far too young to have known anything of her arrival.ignored the comment and entered the building.others were waiting for him in the main chamber, their chairs arranged in a tight circle beneath the small stained-glass window at the far end., the head of their council-eldest of the village, as he was called-turned in his chair and raised a meaty hand in greeting. He was a big man, a blacksmith. His shoulders and chest were broad, his arms and neck as thick as Besh's thighs. But for all his brawn, he had the temperament of a cleric. He spoke softly, even when angry, and while he might not have been the most learned man in Kirayde, he might well have been the wisest.

"We heard you talking to them," he said, as Besh took his seat. "It was foolish of me. I should have ignored them."

"Perhaps," the blacksmith said, grinning. "If for no other reason than to leave us in suspense as to how you might vote on the matter."few of the others laughed, but not all. This would be a difficult discussion, even without the rest of the villagers awaiting their decision., the youngest in their circle, fixed him with a hard glare. "You think she's coming back."gave a small shrug. "I don't know. That, I believe, is the point. None of us knows."expected an argument, but she merely nodded. She was in her eleventh four, her second as a widow. Her husband died of a fever soon after the birth of their seventh child, and though the years since had been trying for her, she remained beautiful, with glossy raven black hair and pale green eyes. Many men in Kirayde had hoped that she would choose to marry again after a suitable time of grieving, Besh among them. But she had made it clear to all that she neither needed nor wanted another man in her life.could be stubborn at times and she had a fiery temper, but most in the village admired her strength. That was why they had chosen her as an elder at such a tender age.

"Where do you think she's gone then?" she asked after a brief silence.wasn't certain how he had become the village authority on Old Lici, but they were all watching him, awaiting his answer. It really had been a mistake to say anything to the crowd.

"I don't know. It had occurred to me to wonder if she might have gone off to die. But that doesn't sound like Lici to me."

"Nor to me," Tashya said. "It's more likely that she's moved on and is making mischief for others. Which, as far as I'm concerned, means that she's no longer our problem."grinned again. "The fact that we're here would seem to belie that last statement."gave him a sour look, but said nothing., the old herbmistress, looked at Besh, and then at the eldest. "Why does it matter where she's gone?" she asked. "We don't meet to discuss the comings and goings of others who live in the village. Nor do we find ourselves forced to post guards at their houses. Lici should be no different from the rest of us."

"But she is different," Pyav said gently. "She has no family. More to the point-and may the gods forgive me for saying this-she has no friends. If something has happened to her, if she's not coming back, then it falls to us to take care of her belongings and her home. That's why we're here."

"There's more to it than that, my friend," Besh said. "You know it as well as I. That crowd outside has heard rumors of Lici's wealth. All of us have. Even if everything else about her was the same, take away the belief that she's hidden her riches away in that house of hers, and we'd all be home, preparing our evening meals."smiled wanly. "I suppose. But even with that, if she had family it would be none of our affair." He raised his eyebrows. "Unfortunately, that blade is double-edged. She has no family or friends, so we have to take responsibility in her absence, but since there's no one who can tell us why she's gone, we don't know what her absence means."nodded. "Then it falls to us to decide exactly that." She glared at all of them, as if challenging them to disagree.

"That may well be true," Besh said evenly. "But we have to err on the side of caution or else every time future elders decide as we have, using what we do here as justification, our children's children will curse us for our haste."appeared to consider this, and when at last she asked "How long do you think we should wait?" there was no hint of ire or mockery in her tone.

"I don't know."

"She's been gone for more than a turn," said one of the others. "She left her garden plot untended. It won't be long before all her crops are lost."looked around the table. "So do we wait until the rise of the Reaping Moon?"

"That's half a turn," Besh said, shaking his head. "That seems awfully soon."

"By that time she'll have been gone for nearly two turns. At her age, that's an eternity."pressed his fingertips together. "Has she ever been gone for this long before?"

"When she was a younger woman," Marivasse said. "She used to go on journeys with Sylpa. They'd go to the shores of the Ofirean Sea, even as far as the Qosantian Lowlands. It wasn't unusual for them to be gone for an entire season."

"What about since Sylpa died?"

"She never went as far after that. But still, she'd go to trade with the Fal'Borna or the people of Aelea."

"And yet," Besh said, "even that's more than she's done over the past ten years."turned to face him. "True. But isn't it possible that in her last years, she seeks to return to some of the places she visited in her youth? The only times I knew her to be happy were those she shared with Sylpa. Couldn't it be that she's gone back to the sea or even to Qosantia?"

"The question isn't so much where she's gone," Tashya said, sounding impatient once more. "Will she return? That's what I want to know. And if she's gone that far, I'd have to say that I doubt it. I think it's also possible that we could learn more about her intentions by searching her hut. Perhaps if we knew what she took with her, we'd have a better sense of when and if she plans to return."nodded slowly. "That seems a fair point."the notion of a simple search of her home made Besh uncomfortable, but if Pyav supported the idea, the rest would as well. There seemed little point in arguing against it.

"So who would do this?" he asked instead.

"You," Tashya said, without hesitation.

"Me?"smiled. "Given your scruples with regard to this whole matter, there's no one I'd trust more."eldest nodded and grinned. "I'm inclined to agree."

"So am I," Marivasse said.the end, the choice was unanimous, but only because they wouldn't let Besh vote. He had no desire to get anywhere near Old Lici's house. Not only did he disapprove of what they were having him do, he still wanted nothing to do with the woman, even after all these years, even though she was probably a hundred leagues away, or dead. Especially because she might be dead.rubbed a hand over his face, wishing he were digging in his garden, or smoking his pipe on that old stump, or fishing along the banks of the wash. "How soon do you want me to do this?"

"Those people outside want us to do something," Tashya said. "Anything. We shouldn't make them wait long."

"Tomorrow," Pyav told him. "I'll come with you if you'd like. I have a couple of jobs to finish at the forge, but I should be ready before the morning's out. Come by and we'll walk over together."smiled. "Thank you, Eldest. That would make this… easier." The blacksmith stood, and the rest did as well. "I thank all of you for coming on such short notice," he said. "Besh and I will let you know what we find."made their way out of the sanctuary, but stopped at the top of the stairs. The crowd was still there, expectant looks on their faces. "What about it then, Eldest?" asked a fair-haired man in front. Besh thought he recognized him as the father of one of Mihas's friends. "Besh and I will search Lici's house in the morning."

"Search it?" the man said with a frown. "Why?"

"To see if she left behind anything that might tell us where she's gone or when she intends to return."

"What about her gold?"

"We don't know that there is any gold."started to protest, but Pyav raised both hands, quieting them. "Please, my friends. This is a beginning. We don't know for certain that there is any gold, and we certainly can't simply assume that, if there is, it's ours to do with as we please. She may be on her way back here as we speak. Doesn't she deserve to find her home just as she left it?"

"She's an old witch!" someone else called out. "We'd be better off without her!"eldest narrowed his eyes slightly. "All right, let me put it this way. If she does return, which of you wants to explain to her that we took all her possessions for our own?"silenced them. Besh struggled to keep the smirk from his lips. Pyav nodded. "That's what I thought. As I told the other elders a moment ago, we'll let you know what we find."that, the blacksmith started down the stairs. The crowd parted to make way for him, and Besh and the others followed in his wake. "That was well done, my friend," Besh said under his breath.eldest nodded, but he looked troubled. "It put them in their places for this evening, but that won't last long. Let's hope that tomorrow's search turns up something definitive one way or another."eldest walked off toward his home, and after a moment the rest of the elders did the same, leaving the villagers whispering among themselves. Besh tried to take some satisfaction in the way the eldest had silenced the crowd, but Pyav's words to him still echoed ominously in his mind.was nearly dark when he reached the house, and as he wearily climbed the old wooden stairway, the smell of roasted fowl reached him, reminding Besh that he was famished.'d started without him, which was just as it should be; he'd told Elica that the children shouldn't go hungry because of all the foolishness surrounding Old Lici. The younger ones had been giggling about something as he climbed the stairs, but as soon as they saw him in the doorway, they fell silent. Actually all of them did. They just stared at him, as if they thought he might have brought Lici with him.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Besh said, taking his place at the table beside Mihas.nodded. "It's all right."doubt they were bursting with questions for him, but no one said anything as he helped himself to some meat, greens, and bread., Cam, the youngest, looked at his grandfather with wide eyes, and asked, "Did you find her?"couldn't keep from laughing. "Find her? You mean Lici?"boy nodded, but by now the others were laughing as well, and his face began to redden.

"No, Cam," Besh said. "We didn't expect to find her. We don't know where she's gone. We were trying to decide what to do with her house and her belongings."

"And what did you decide?" Elica asked.younger ones were laughing still, but Elica and Sirj were watching him closely, as was Mihas.

"Pyav and I will search her house in the morning, just to see if we can find something that will tell us why she left."

"Can I come, Grandfather?" Mihas asked.shook his head. "No, Mihas. This is no game, nor is it a hunt for hidden treasure. The eldest and I will be the only ones to enter Lici's home."boy looked disappointed, but he nodded and said nothing more.

"And her belongings?" Elica asked.

"Are still hers. Until we know for certain that she's not coming back, nothing will be done with her things."

"Good," Sirj muttered.

"Good?" Besh repeated, turning his way.man's face colored, just as his son's had a few moments before. Besh wondered if he'd meant to say it aloud.took a breath. "Yes, good. I think all this talk about Old Lici's gold has gone on for too long already. You'd think the rest of them were starving, the way they look toward her little hut. It's all nonsense, if you ask me."


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