The Winds of Khalakovo - Bradley P. Beaulieu [109]
CHAPTER 31
“Into the water,” Rehada said, her voice tight.
Atiana could do little but obey. The vanahezhan was already pounding its way toward them. Steam rose from the hissing rocks, covering their retreat. They had gone a dozen paces into the surf when Rehada said, “Swim.” She yanked Atiana’s arm, pulling her off balance. “Do not allow your feet to touch the seabed.”
Through gritted teeth Atiana sucked in a lungful of breath as the icy water enveloped her. She swam backward as the vanahezhan reached the edge of the water and stopped. It swayed its head back and forth like a bloodhound. Then it raised its four arms up high and brought them down together against the beach. A great plume of water and rock and mud rose up into the sky.
The fog around them was thick, and soon they lost sight of the hezhan entirely.
“It will not find us as long as we don’t touch the rock,” Rehada said.
“Grand. Then all we need do is swim to Duzol and we’ll be safe.”
“It will leave soon enough.”
“How do you know?”
“They know they have been discovered. When they do not find us, they will hide.”
“How can you be so sure they won’t find us?”
“I can’t.” Rehada leaned into the water and began to swim in a direction parallel to the shoreline.
Atiana was forced to decide whether she would follow, but there was little choice, and she soon began swimming after Rehada. The water was numbing, drawing away her energy, but she was still high with fear, and so they were able to go quite a long distance. The fog finally dissipated. As they swam beyond it, it rose up behind them white and thick while the way ahead was clear and bright under a cloudless sky. They headed for land after seeing no one on the shore, and by the time they dragged themselves out of the heavy surf, Atiana’s arms and legs were leaden. She kissed her soulstone, not particularly willing to show weakness in front of Rehada but even less willing to ignore her ancestors, who had clearly been watching over her this day.
“Come,” Rehada said, “this is no time to rest.” And then she was off toward the trees.
Atiana gritted her teeth against the pain throbbing up her left leg and limped after her. They moved as quickly as they could, Atiana often looking behind them to see if anyone was following.
“That was Soroush, wasn’t it?”
Rehada ignored her.
Atiana grabbed Rehada’s arm and turned her around. “What was the leader of the Maharraht doing here?”
The Landless woman jerked her arm free and stared down at Atiana. Atiana hadn’t realized how tall she was until just then.
She resumed walking, forcing Atiana to keep pace. “You were foolish to follow them.”
Atiana’s mind swam with questions. “How did you come to be there on the shore?”
“I followed you.”
“From Volgorod?”
“From the eyrie. I was taking breath in the hills above it.”
Taking breath was the Aramahn term for meditation. It was possible that she had met newcomers on the eyrie—the Aramahn often did so to acclimate those who had arrived—but something in her story smelled foul.
“I was nowhere near the eyrie.”
“You were near enough.”
“I saw no one.”
“Nevertheless, I saw you.”
“Then tell me why you followed me.”
They had nearly reached the house. Rehada stopped and faced Atiana after taking a good long look behind for signs of pursuit.
“You know who I am.” She stated it flatly, barely a question at all.
Atiana nodded.
“I was curious.”
“Curious...”
Rehada swallowed. This tall, beautiful woman was somehow cowed. “I should not be speaking of this.”
Atiana remained silent, a demand that Rehada continue.
“Your husband has spoken of you, and... I know my place in the world.
I know it is not with Nikandr. He will be with you. But I was curious to see the one who would take him away from me.”
It felt strange hearing these words from a woman who had bedded the man who would be her husband. If anyone had asked her the day before how she would have reacted, she would have said she’d have the woman’s eyes put out. But here, standing before her,