Amber and Blood - Margaret Weis [25]
“I think most kender would give their topknots to be able to do that,” Rhys told him.
Nightshade scratched his head. He’d never considered this. “You know. You might be right. Why, I remember once meeting a fellow kender in Solace, and when I told him I was a Nightstalker, he said—”
Nightshade stopped talking. He stared out to sea. Blinking, he rubbed his eyes, stared again, then tugged on Rhys’s sleeve.
“There are people out there in the water …” Nightshade cried. “Maybe they’re drowning! We have to help save them!”
Alarmed, Rhys risked standing up in the rocking boat to gain a better view. At first all he could see were sea birds and the occasional frothy white cap. Then he saw a person in the water, and then another, and still another.
“Mina!” Nightshade cried. “Steer the boat over to those people—”
“No, don’t,” Rhys said suddenly.
The people were far from shore, yet they were swimming strongly, not floundering or flailing. Hundreds of them, swimming, far from shore, heading for the tower …
“Rhys!” Nightshade cried. “Rhys, they’re Beloved and they’re swimming to the tower. Mina, stop! Turn the boat around!”
Mina shook her head. Her amber eyes gleamed with pleasure, her lips were parted in a smile, and she laughed for no other reason than pure joy. The sail boat traveled faster, seeming to leap over the waves.
“Mina!” Rhys called urgently. “Turn the boat around!”
She looked at him and smiled and waved.
“Those people are dangerous!” he cried, and he jabbed his finger in the direction of the undead, some of whom had reached the tower and were crawling onto the shore. He could see many more clustering around the entrance. “We must turn back!”
Mina stared at the Beloved in bewilderment, which quickly changed to dismay and then to anger.
“They have no business going to my tower,” she said and she steered the boat straight toward them.
“Rhys!” Nightshade howled.
“There’s nothing I can do,” Rhys said, and for the first time he truly understood the dire peril of their situation.
How could he control a six-year-old girl who could suspend a minion of Chemosh by his heels from a ceiling, summon up a sailboat, and produce meat pies on a whim?
He was suddenly angry. Why didn’t the gods themselves deal with her? Why dump this in his lap?
The boat shifted suddenly. The emmide, which had been lying on the seat beside him, rolled up against his hand. He grasped it and, though the staff was wet and slick with salt spray, he felt again a comforting warmth. One god, at least, had his reasons …
“Rhys! We’re getting closer!” Nightshade warned.
They were quite close to the tower now. The Beloved had already overrun the island, which was not very large, and more were arriving all the time. Some swam. Some crawled up out of the sea as though they had walked along the ocean floor They climbed over the rocks, sometimes slipping and falling back into the water, but always returning. They were mostly human, young and strong, and all of them were dead, yet horribly alive, chained to a world of unendurable pain, victims of Mina’s terrible kiss. Rhys’s heart ached to see them.
“What are all you people doing there?” Mina cried angrily. “This is my tower.”
She gave the rudder a twitch, took the boat out of the wind. The sail sagged and flapped, and the boat glided on its own momentum into the rock-bound shore. Rhys feared for a moment they would crash, but Mina proved a deft sailor, and she guided them to a safe landing among the rocks and coral and dripping seaweed.
“Hand me that line,” Mina said, jumping lightly onto shore, “so I can tie up the boat.”
“Rhys! What are you doing?” Nightshade cried, aghast. “Cast off! Sail away! We can’t stay here! They’ll kill us!”
The emmide was still warm in Rhys’s hand. He remembered his thought: her madness held a terrible wisdom. This was something she needed to do, seemingly. And he had promised. She was in no