The Killing Moon (Dreamblood #1)(64)

He stepped carefully over the messenger’s body as he prepared to return to Yanya-iyan.





23





A Gatherer shall carry with him always the mark of the Hetawa: Her sacred flower, the moontear. As well he shall leave his own mark in the form of a lesser flower, for in the execution of Her blessing a Gatherer is like unto divine.

(Law)





When Sunandi saw the Gatherer go into the old woman’s tent, she decided to act. Clenching her fists, she marched after him, intending to denounce him in front of the whole caravan if she had to—and then the boy stepped out of the shadows beside the tent. She stopped dead, suddenly uneasy. Were Gatherer-Apprentices permitted to kill? She couldn’t recall, but something told her this one wouldn’t care about permission.

But then the boy startled her by speaking. “He has sanction. That of the Goddess is all he needs, but he also spoke with Gehanu.”

That shattered Sunandi’s rising anger. Her fists unclenched and she stared at him. “I don’t believe you.”

“Not everyone fears death the way you do.” There was no scorn in the boy’s manner this time. His anger from their earlier altercation seemed to have faded completely. “Go speak to Gehanu if you doubt me.”

“I will.” She pivoted on her heel before she could question herself. Logic told her that in the time it took her to speak to Gehanu, the Gatherer could kill the old woman, but suddenly her courage seemed to have deserted her. The boy’s manner had unnerved her too much. In that brief exchange he’d seemed far too much like his mentor, exuding the same perverse mingling of menace and compassion. That had been an unpleasant reminder of her own status of “abeyance,” and the even less pleasant knowledge that they could revoke that status whenever they pleased.

It had been an error of judgment to discount the boy as a threat, she decided, trying to get a grip on her fear as she crossed the encampment and drummed on Gehanu’s tent. Whatever the Hetawa did to train its killers had already set its mark deep in his soul.

Gehanu called for Sunandi to enter in her own tongue and grinned when she saw who it was, switching languages with the ease of a veteran trader. “Ah, Nefe. I would have thought you’d still be in the baths, enjoying a taste of civilization. Spoiled city woman.”

Sunandi forced a smile, moving to sit opposite Gehanu’s pallet. “I had a good soak earlier. ’Anu—about my companions—”

“The priest, you mean?” Gehanu smiled at Sunandi’s startled nod. “You have so many secrets, some of them break loose when you aren’t looking.”

“So it seems. Then he does have your sanction? The boy said so. I didn’t believe him.”

“The boy was a surprise. Never saw a young one before, though I suppose they can’t spring whole from gourds. Yes, I told him he could talk to Talithele.”

“You—” She struggled to keep her tone polite and not accusatory. “You are aware of what he might do to her?”

“If she wants it.”

“His kind don’t care whether you want it or not.”

Gehanu raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you the one who brought him here?”

“Under duress. I don’t trust him. I don’t even like him.”

“A shame. He seems decent enough.”

“For a killer! One of his ‘brothers’…” She faltered as the grief rose again to mingle with her anger, nearly choking her. She pushed the word out around it. “Lin.”

“The scamp? She was Gathered?”

“No, murdered. That thing that’s been running around the city—”

“Ah!” Gehanu uttered a soft wail. “Not that! Tell me not!” She caught her breath when Sunandi nodded. “Oh gods of earth and sky.”

“That monster started out as a Servant of Hananja, like him,” Sunandi said, nodding in the direction of Talithele’s tent. “That’s why you should stop him.”

But to her surprise, Gehanu shook her head. “Not my place. The choice belongs to Talithele.”

“I told you—”

“He said he’d ask her permission. I believe him.”

“You can’t believe anything he says! Even he doesn’t realize how evil he is!”

Gehanu’s face became stony, and it was only then that Sunandi realized she’d raised her voice in her host’s tent. “Bi’incha. Gehanu, forgive me.” She sighed, rubbing her eyes. “I’m going mad. I miss Lin so much, I can’t even think anymore.”

“Forgiven,” Gehanu said at once, her face softening. She reached over to take Sunandi’s shoulder. “My heart aches with you, Nefe. But Talithele is dying. In my land she would be surrounded by dozens of her offspring, welcomed by all the ancestors buried beneath our soil. Here she is virtually alone and cut off from the land of her birth. The priest gives her another choice. I have no right to take it from her.” Gehanu lifted her pipe, took a long inhalation, and sighed out smoke. “At least with the priest she will have no pain.”

Sunandi lowered her eyes, feeling her own grief resonate with Gehanu’s. If she could have given Lin this choice—Gathering, or the terrible death the girl had suffered instead—would she have done so? She refused to contemplate that question.