Despite her exhaustion, Isana could not sleep.
She spent the night holding Odiana's head in her lap, monitoring the woman's fever, with little else she could do for her. Pale light came through chinks in the walls of the smokehouse, when a grey, winter dawn rose over Kordholt. Isana could hear animals outside, men talking, crude laughter.
Despite the cold air drifting in from without, the interior of the smokehouse remained broiling, the ring of coals around the two women glowing with sullen heat. Her throat, parched before, began to simply ache, agonizing,
and at times it felt as though she could not get enough air into her lungs, so that she swayed and had trouble sitting up.
Once, when Odiana tossed restlessly, Isana rose and went to the far side of the ring of coals. Her head spinning with heat and thirst, she gathered her skirts and made to step over the coals, a short leap to the far side-even though she knew the door would be locked and bolted, there might be a loose board in the wall, or something she could use as a weapon in order to make an attempt at escape.
Even as she lifted her foot, though, the ground on the far side of the coals stirred, and the swift, heavy form of Kord's fury rose up from the ground, misshapen and hideous. Isana's breath caught in her throat, and she lowered her foot again.
The malformed fury subsided and sank slowly back into the earth.
Isana clenched her fists in her skirts, frustrated, then moved back over to Odiana and took the woman's head onto her lap again. In her sleep, the collared woman whimpered and stirred languidly, her eyes rolling beneath their lids as she dreamt. Once, she let out a pathetic cry and flinched, and her hands spasmed toward the collar. Even in the woman's dreams, it appeared, Kord's collar continued its assault on her senses, her will. Isana shuddered.
The light waned, shadows shifting over the floor by infinitely slow degrees. Isana let her head fall forward, her eyes closed. Her stomach turned and twisted with worry. Tavi and Bernard and Fade. Where were they? If they were alive, why hadn't Bernard followed her here? Had the ones attacking them been too much for her brother to handle? Bernard would never allow her to remain in Kord's hands-not while he lived.
Could he be dead? Could the boy be dead as well? Surely he had escaped ahead of the flood, surely he had evaded anyone who may have pursued him even after.
Surely.
Isana shook, and gave no voice to the sobs that racked her. No tears would fall. Her body had hoarded back all the moisture it could. She longed for the freedom to weep, at least. But she did not have it. She drifted that way, head bowed, sweltering and dizzy, and thought of Bernard, and of Tavi.
The grey of twilight was in the air when the bolt at the door rattled, and Aric entered. He held a tray in his hands, and he did not lift his face toward
Isana. Instead, he walked to the circle of coals and stepped over, setting the tray down.
There were two cups on the tray. Nothing more.
Isana looked steadily up at Aric. He rose and stood there for a moment, shifting his weight from foot to foot, his eyes down. Then he said, "Snow's starting up again. Heavier."
Isana stared at him, and said nothing.
He swallowed and stepped back out of the ring of coals. He went to the hod of coal and began scooping out buckets again, to spread them over the smoldering ring, fresh fuel. "How is she?" he asked.
"Dying," Isana said. "The heat is killing her."
Aric swallowed. He dumped out a bucket of coals onto the ring, spilling some out sloppily, and went for more. "The water's clean, at least. This time."
Isana watched him for a moment and then reached for one of the cups. She lifted it to her mouth and tasted, though it was all she could do not to start gulping frantically. The water was cool, pure. She had to steady herself with a deep breath and hold the cup in both shaking hands. She drank, slowly, giving each sip time to go down.
Isana only allowed herself half the cup. The rest she gave to Odiana, half-hauling the woman into a sitting position and urging her to drink, slowly, which she did with a listless obedience.
She looked up to see Aric watching her, his face pale. Isana lowered the collared woman back down and brushed a few loose strands of hair back from her neck. "What is it, Aric?"
"They're coming tonight," he said. "My father. They're going to finish the... Odiana and then put the collar on you."
Isana swallowed and couldn't stop the chill that went down her spine.
"After dinner," Aric said. He slopped more coals down. "It's like a celebration for him. He's handing out wine."
"Aric," Isana said. "It isn't too late to do something."
Aric pressed his lips together. "It is," he said. "There's only one thing left now." Without speaking, he finished carelessly dashing coals onto the ring of fire around them.
Kord's entrance was presaged by a low tremble in the floor of the smokehouse. Then the big Steadholder banged open the door with one fist and stepped inside, glowering. Without a word, he cuffed Aric's head, hard
enough to stagger the younger man against the wall. "Where is that tar, boy?"
Aric left his head down, his body held in a crouch, as though expecting to be hit again. "I haven't got it done yet, Pa."
Kord sneered at him, placing his fists on his hips. Isana noticed the drunken sway to his balance as he did. "Then you can just get it done while the rest of us eat. And if you fall off the crows-eaten roof in the dark, that's your own affair. Don't go crying to me about a broken leg."
Aric nodded. "Yes, Pa."
Kord growled something beneath his breath and then turned to Isana. "Better get that other glass of water before my new whore figures out it's there."
Odiana let out a soft noise, curling in on herself. Kord watched her with a smirk on his face. Isana saw the ugly glitter in his eyes as he prepared to speak again, and interrupted him. "Kord. She's nearly dead as it is. Leave her be."
Kord narrowed his eyes at Isana, lips lifting away from his teeth. He took a lurching step closer to her. "Still giving orders," he murmured. "We'll see. Tonight, after I'm done with that one, we'll see what it's like. We'll see who gives the orders and who takes them."
Isana met his eyes steadily, though his words made her heart thud with dull, exhausted fear. "You're a fool, Kord," she said.
"What are you going to do about it, huh? You're nothing. No one. What are you going to do?"
"Nothing," Isana said. "I won't have to. You've already destroyed yourself. It's just a matter of time now."
Kord flushed red and took a step toward Isana, his hands clenching into fists.
"Pa," Aric said. "Pa, she's just talking. She's just trying to get to you. It doesn't mean anything."
Kord rounded on Aric and swept his fist at him in a clumsy swat. Aric didn't dodge the blow, so much as he let it catch his shoulder and throw him to the floor.
"You," Kord growled, chest heaving. "You don't tell me. You don't talk to me. Everything you got, you got because I gave it to you. You will not disrespect me, boy."
"No, sir," Aric said, quietly.
Kord got his breathing under control and shot Isana another glare. "Tonight," he said. "We'll see."
The ground shook again as he turned and lumbered out.
Coals sizzled in silence for a few moments. Then Isana turned to Aric and said, "Thank you."
Aric flinched at the words, more than he had from his father's blows. "Don't thank me," he said. "Don't talk to me. Please." He gathered himself to his feet and picked up the bucket. "Still have to lay out the tar. The ice didn't stick to the roof, but I have to tar it tonight or he'll feed me to the crows."
"Aric-" Isana began.
"Be quiet," Aric hissed. He shot a glance at the door. Then said, to Isana, "Snow's starting up again."
He left, and bolted the door behind him.
Isana frowned at him, trying to puzzle out his meaning. She took the second cup of water and took a bit more for herself, then gave the rest to the semiconscious Odiana.
Outside, the wind rose. She heard men moving around the steadholt. One of them walked past the smokehouse and banged on the walls, letting out a few crude phrases. Odiana flinched and whimpered. More raucous talk and rough laughter went up from somewhere nearby-probably the steadholt's great hall. What sounded like a fight broke out, ending in cheers and jeers, and all the while it grew darker, until only the red coals gave any light to the smokehouse's interior.
There came a bang against the wall, wood against wood. Then steps. Feet on a ladder. Someone set down a weighty object on the roof, and then hauled himself onto it.
"Aric?" Isana called quietly.
"Shhhh," said the young man. "This is the one other thing."
Isana frowned, staring up. She followed his weight as he moved from the edge of the slightly sloped roof up toward its crown, directly over the circle.
Without warning, the naked blade of a knife sprang through the shingles, dropping bits of tar-stained wood and droplets of water in. The blade twisted, left and right, opening a larger hole. Then it withdrew again.
Aric proceeded around the roof slowly, and Isana could hear him slopping tar from a bucket he must have carried down onto the roof. But every moment or so, the knife would sink in again, opening a small hole between
shingles. Then it would withdraw. He repeated the action several times, and then without a word he clambered down from the roof again. His feet crunched through snow and into the night.
It only took a few moments for Isana to realize what Aric had done.
The interior of the smokehouse was smoldering hot, and its heat rose up to the roof above and warmed the materials there. No ice had stuck to the roof the night before, Aric had said, but if the roof hadn't been sealed properly, swelling of the shingles and beams would set in after they had been soaked. They would have to be sealed immediately in order to prevent leaks, especially if the construction had been slipshod to begin with. The roof would require fresh tar consistently to keep it closed against leaks.
Against water.
Droplets began to fall through the holes Aric left with his dagger. Water that pattered to the floor, first in the occasional drop and then, as the snowfall evidently increased, in a small, steady trickle.
Water.
Isana's heart suddenly thudded with excitement, with hope. She leaned forward, across the ring of coals, and caught the nearest trickle of water in one of the empty cups. It filled in perhaps a minute, and Isana lifted it to her mouth and drank, deeply, water coursing into her with a simple, animal pleasure. She filled the cup again and drank, and again, and then gave more to Odiana as well.
The collared woman stirred, at the first cup and then more at the second. Finally, she was able to whisper, "What is happening?"
"A chance," Isana said. "We've been given a chance."
Isana reached across to fill both cups again, as the trickle came down a bit more steadily. She licked her lips and looked around the circle of coals, searching for what she thought would be there. There, where Aric had slopped the coals in a particularly careless fashion. A spot where no fresh coals had landed, and only old, grey, soft-edged coals remained.
Trembling with excitement, Isana reached out and poured the water over the coals. They sizzled and spat. She refilled the glasses and did it again. And a third time. A fourth.
With a final sputtering hiss, the last of the coals went out.
Shaking, Isana caught another cupful of water, and reached out through it for her fury, for Rill.
The cup stirred and quivered, and abruptly Isana felt Rill's presence
within the water, a quivering life and motion swirling within it frantically. Isana felt tears springing to her eyes, and a moment later felt Rill gently easing them back from her, felt the fury's affection and relief at being in contact with her again.
Isana looked up to Odiana, who had leaned out to catch another trickle of water in both cupped hands and who had a distant, dreamy smile upon her face. "They're talking about us," Odiana murmured. "So many cups. They're going to use me until the heat has killed me. Then it will be your turn, Isana. I think-" She broke off, suddenly, her back arching with a little gasp-then flung the water away from her, shaking her head and clapping her hands over her ears. "His voice. No, I don't want to hear him. Don't want to hear him."
Isana turned to her and caught her by the wrist. "Odiana," she hissed. "We have to get out of here."
The dark-eyed woman stared up at Isana, her eyes wide, and nodded. "I don't know. I don't know if I can."
"The collar?"
She nodded again. "It's hard to think of doing things that wouldn't p-please him. Don't know if I can do them. And if he speaks to me-"
Isana swallowed. Gently, she drew Odiana's hands down from her ears and then placed her own over them. "He shan't," she said, quietly. "Let me."
Odiana's face paled, but she nodded, once.
Isana reached out for Rill and sent the fury down through her touch, into Odiana's body. Rill hesitated, once within, refusing to respond. Isana had to focus with a sharp effort of will before Isana's senses pressed through and into the other woman.
Odiana's emotions nearly overwhelmed her.
Tension. Terrible fear. Rage, frantic and near mindless-all of them trapped beneath a slow and steady pleasure, a languid pulse that radiated out of the collar, threatening at any moment to reverse itself into unspeakable agony. It was like standing within the heart of a storm, emotions and needs spinning past, whirling by, nothing steady, nothing to orient upon. With a slow shudder, Isana realized that Rill had let her touch only lightly upon the water witch's emotions, on the frantic whirl and spill of them in her mind. She realized that Rill had meant to protect her from exposure to what could all too easily spill over into her own thoughts, her own heart.
Isana frantically pushed that storm of the soul away from her, struggled
to focus on her purpose. Through the fury, she sought out the other woman's ears, the sensitive eardrums. With a sharp, nearly frantic effort, she altered the pressures of Odiana's body, within her ears. Distantly, Isana heard Odiana let out a pained gasp-and then the drums burst, another explosion of pain and wild emotions-glee and revulsion and impatience predominant.
Isana withdrew her presence from the watercrafter as quickly as she could, jerking her hands and her face away. Even after the contact had been broken, the wild spill of Odiana's emotions remained, flooding over her, against her, making it difficult to think, to focus on the task at hand.
Odiana's voice came to her then, very quiet, very gentle. "You can't fight it, you know," she half-whispered. "You have to embrace it. One day, they're all going to come in, holdgirl. You have to let it have you. To do otherwise is... is mad."
Isana looked up to see the water witch smiling, a smile that stretched her mouth in something near a pained grimace. Isana shook her head and pressed the emotions away from her, fought to clear her thinking. Tavi. Bernard. She had to get free, to get to her family. They would need her help, or at least to know that she was all right. She hugged herself and struggled, and slowly her thoughts began to clear.
"We have to get out of here," Isana said. "I don't know how much more time we have."
Odiana frowned at her. "You've put out my ears, holdgirl. I can't hear you, can I? But if you're saying we should go, I agree."
Isana nodded toward the floor on the far side of the ring of coals. "Kord's fury. It's guarding the floor out there." She gestured and pointed at the ground.
Odiana shook her head, disagreeing. Her eyes fluttered for a moment, and she gasped in a little breath, fingertips moving to touch the collar. "I... I'll have all I can do just to go. I can't help you." She bowed her head and said, "Just take my hand. I'll come with you."
Isana shook her head, frustrated. Outside, a door banged open, and Kord's drunken voice bawled, "It's time, ladies!" followed by a hoarse cheer from several throats.
Panicked, Isana rose and took Odiana's hand. She reached out to Rill, sent the fury questing about the roof of the smokehouse, as the men grew closer, gathering up all the liquid water the fury could find. Isana felt it inside her, an instinctive awareness of what was there, of the water in the snow-filled air, the meltwater within the smokehouse and in the ground around it.
Isana felt it and gathered it together in one place and then, with a low cry, released it.
Water flooded down from the roof in a sudden wave that washed over the coals in a swirling ring. The coals spat and hissed furiously, and in seconds the air was filled with thick, broiling hot steam.
Without, there was a cry, and Kord's feet pounded closer. The heavy bolt to the door slid back, and it flew open.
With another flick of her hand, Isana sent the steam boiling out into Kord's face, out to the men behind him. Cries and yowls filled the yard, as men scrambled back from the door.
Isana focused on the ground before them, and at the edge of the now-guttered coals, water condensed from the steam into a shining strip of liquid as wide as a plank. She had never attempted anything like that before. Holding clear in her mind what she wanted Rill to do, Isana took a deep breath and stepped out onto the plank of liquid. There was a tension in it, wavering, but there, and it held her weight without allowing her foot to sink through to the floor.
Isana let out a low cry of triumph and stepped out onto the plank, tugging Odiana by the hand. She led her to the door of the smokehouse and leapt out onto the earth without, Odiana faltering, but staying close.
"Stop!" Kord bellowed, within the cloud of steam. "I order you to stop! Get on the ground, bitch! Get on the ground!"
Isana glanced at Odiana, but the woman's face was distant, her eyes unfocused, and she stumbled along in Isana's wake. If the collar forced a reaction to Kord's voice upon her, she gave no sign of it.
"Rill," Isana hissed. "The nearest stream!" And with an abrupt clarity, Isana felt the lay of the land about them, the subtle tilt down and away from the mountains and toward the middle of the valley, to a tributary that fed, eventually, into one of the streams that ran down through Garrison and into the Sea of Ice.
Isana turned and ran over the cold ground, now using Rill only to help her know the way to the nearest water, to keep her blood running hot through her bare feet to help them resist freezing. She could only hope that Odiana would have the presence of mind to do the same.
Behind them, Kord bellowed to his fury, and the ground to her right erupted with writhing, vicious motion, ice and frozen earth and rocks thrown into the air. Isana swerved her course to run over deeper snow, more
thickly crusted ice, and prayed that she would not slip and break her leg. It was only that coating of frozen water that gave her any sort of protection at all from the wrath of Kord's earth fury.
"Kill you!" bellowed Kord's voice behind them, in the dark. "Kill you! Find them, find them and kill them! Bring the hounds!"
Her heart racing with fear, her body alight with excitement and terror, Isana fled into the night from the sounds of mounting pursuit, leading her fellow captive by the hand.