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i_read_what2022-04-10 12:54 am
kalinara) wrote in i_read_what2022-04-10 12:54 am
Track of the White Wolf - Part 1 - Chapter 7
So last time, we had brotherly bonding and Lillith took the boys shopping. It's so nice to have an actual healthy sibling relationship in a Cheysuli book. I hope nothing happens to ruin that.
So Niall's starting his sea voyage to Atvia. The map of the continent shows us that Homana is mostly inland. It has a southern coast, but is bordered on the west by Solinde, which stretches completely across that coast. Atvia is the northern of two islands to the west of that coastline.
Niall tells us that they could have gone overland through Solinde, then sailed to the island, but it's faster to leave through Hondarth, the city on Homana's southern coast and make the full journey by sea.
It seems like, unlike poor Bronwyn, Niall actually does get an escort. The full traveling party is Varien, Lillith, Ian, Tasha, and sixteen men picked from Donal's guard. Ian apparently finds the whole concept of a royal escort amusing, while Niall feels "a mixture of pride and resignation".
Unlike Donal, Niall doesn't try to pretend that being a prince sucks. He's content enough in his role, and with most of the traditions, though he is a little bit wistful about the new lack of freedom that marriage brings. I can appreciate that.
One of the first sights they see, leaving Hondarth, is the Crystal Isle. Supposedly the birthplace of the Cheysuli, more recently, Electra's prison. Ian is particularly affected by the history of the place. Niall isn't as into the idea, remembering the shar tahls (clan scholar/priests) drilling lessons into his head. Ian thinks that they should have come to visit the island then, it would have made the lessons more comprehensible.
This cute brotherly moment is interrupted:
“Why not recite those lessons to me?” inquired the husky voice from behind us. “Surely you know I learned a different history.”
I turned to face Lillith. Ian did not. Beside him, wide paws spread, Tasha snarled and pressed against Ian’s leg.
Ugh. I like Lillith as an adversary, but I like seeing the brothers be brothers more.
Lillith seems to have some interesting lessons for the boys herself:
Then shall I tell you what I know of the island?” She slipped between Ian and me, touching neither of us, yet I was as aware of her as if she were a wine too heady for my wits. As for Ian, I could not say how he responded, save to see how rigid was his posture, “It is the birthplace of the Cheysuli,” Lillith told us. “The heart, if you will, of Homana.”
Whatever I had expected of her, it was not that. Never the truth. Sidelong, I looked at her, and saw the distant smile. “The Ihlini rose out of Solinde,” I said; it was common knowledge.
A thick strand of hair was whipped into her face. Slender fingers caught at it and pulled it away from the questing grasp of the wind; silver-tipped nails flashed. “The Ihlini rose out of Homana.” The smile was gone, but there was no hostility in her tone, merely matter-of-factness. “I am certain Tynstar told Carillon, probably even your father. It is the truth, Niall; once the Ihlini and Cheysuli were as close—closer—than you and Ian.”
We've heard this before, and there is some possible merit to the claim. There are the big things: like the way Ihlini and Cheysuli powers tend to cancel each other out. The way the lir refuse to fight an Ihlini, even while expressing extreme dislike. There are smaller similarities too though: the runes on Hale's sword. The way Osric's eyes looked Ihlini purple in the light of the sword's ruby.
Honestly, I feel like the Ihlini got the better end of the deal, powers wise. If nothing else, women of the Ihlini actually GET powers.
Niall would prefer not to hear Lillith's "lies", but Ian has a more piercing question. What exactly does Lillith know of Tynstar.
This inspires Niall to a question of his own: how old is Lillith.
The answers to these questions are very interesting too:
She looked at each of us, one by one, and her smile grew wider still. “I shall answer both of you: I am more than a hundred years, and Tynstar was my father.”
Niall, stupidly, asks how this is possible. I mean, Tynstar was really old and really horny? Lillith basically says the same thing: Electra was Tynstar's mistress, sure, but she was hardly the first. Lillith's own mother was an Ihlini, and while the Ihlini don't recognize political/secular rank, she was basically a queen to Tynstar's king.
This also means that Strahan is Lillith's half brother. Lillith thinks he's young, and there's so much left for him to learn.
The confrontation is fraught but interesting:
“But not so much for you,” Ian said harshly. “Is that what you seek to say? To warn us of your power? Do not bother, lady. I have no intention of ignoring who or what you are.”
“No,” she said, “that is obvious. But why must you assume I bear you or your brother ill will?”
“You are Ihlini.” It was explanation in itself.
“And kin to you, somewhere ages and ages ago.” Lillith gathered in flying hair and contained it in a slender hand. “I am, albeit unspoken, Queen of Atvia. I am content with Alaric. What would I do with Homana? Why do you assume I want it?”
“You are Ihlini.” This time from me, and equally inflexible.
“Ihlini,” she said. “Second-born of the First, and therefore a threat to you.” Lillith shook her head. “Not all of us seek to hinder the prophecy.”
I hadn't thought of this before, but this reflects what we see of the Cheysuli. Neither group is a monolith anymore. The a'saii represent Cheysuli who don't support the prophecy, and believe that the intermixing of blood required weakens the race. They have their own ideas for how Cheysuli and Homana should exist.
It's a bit subtler with the Ihlini, but Lillith represents a different idea from Strahan. She's not any less evil, but her approach of using/manipulating the prophecy in its own right is interesting.
It's funny because, as we'll see throughout the rest of the series, in a way, Lillith and her successors may well be more effective than Strahan and his. But then, maybe that's because they're a necessary part of the prophecy too...
(I'm reminded of one of the genuinely interesting ideas in David Eddings's the Belgariad: the idea that a prophecy itself could be aware and actively manipulate in favor of its own existence. The Cheysuli prophecy is not that sort, but...well, things do tend to work out.)
Unfortunately, the dialogue takes a Roberson turn here, as JUST after Lillith says that not all of them hinder the prophecy, we get this:
Ian’s mouth opened, closed. I saw him visibly gather his thinning tolerance. “Lady,” he said finally, with the infinite patience of a man who despises his opponent, “you have the right of it when you say Tynstar must have spoken to Carillon and my jehan. Aye, I know the truth that drove the demon: fulfillment of the prophecy means the end of the Ihlini. How can you not work against us?”
Lillith stood very still. Mostly she faced Ian now, but in her profile I saw a look of exalted triumph. “Aye,” she said on a breath of accomplishment, “I think you begin to understand.”
Ian shook his head. “Understand an Ihlini? I think not.”
She backed away from us both; wind-whipped wraith, suddenly, indigo blue and black. And magnificent in her pride. “Why should we be any different?” she asked. “Why should we be hounded by your dogs of righteousness until no one in all the world can see the sense in what we do—why we fight for our survival! Do you see? Do you see it at all?” Her eyes searched my face and Ian’s. “Evil, you claim us; demons you call us; seed of the dark god himself. And why? Because we do what we must to survive. Survive! Would you do any differently if promised demise by the fulfillment of a prophecy?” The mantle cracked in the wind. “Words,” she said bitterly. “Words. And with them, you destroy an entire race. Even as you were nearly destroyed. Will you do the same to us? Unleash a Cheysuli qu’mahlin?”
So is Lillith for the prophecy, as she implied two seconds ago, or against it, as she rants about here?
If she was lying before, why suddenly 180 now? It's certainly not likely to make the boys suddenly trust her.
Oh well. Lillith makes up for this inconsistency by hitting Ian where it hurts:
“Enough,” Ian said, white-faced. “You have said enough.”
“Have I?” Lillith demanded. She glanced at me, then met Ian’s baleful, yellow-eyed glare. “Looking at you, I say I have not. But then you are fanatic enough to be a’saii.”
Niall thinks this is nonsense, and it is, but he gets a look at Ian's face:
Ian’s face was the mask I knew so well. But his ashen color was not. “She has the tongue of a serpent.”
“Can a serpent tell the truth?”
His head snapped around as he looked at me in shock. “You believe her?”
“No,” I told him, troubled, “I think no Ihlini would ever bear us anything but ill will. But what if she tells the truth about their reasons for hating us so?”
“Truth, lies, what does it matter? Their knives are just as sharp.” Ian shook his head. “Would it make you less dead if the man who slew you believed he was serving his race?”
The taste of salt was in my mouth. The tang was bittersweet. “No, rujho. No.”
“See that you remember it,” Ian told me flatly. “See that you never forget.”
a) So here's an interesting thought. IS Ian a'saii?
His love for Niall seems genuine. His scorn for Ceinn as well. His spoken reasons for not wanting the throne of Homana make sense.
But, on the other hand, Ceinn apparently feels welcome to come to Ian's tent. He's at least discussed his ideas with him. We know that Ian feels his illegitimacy sharply. How well do we know Ian?
And by asking these questions, are we just playing into Lillith's schemes all along?
Well done, Roberson. Lillith is a very effective adversary.
b) Ian does have a point here though. So what if Lillith does believe what she says? What difference does it make? Tynstar mutilated Carillon and raped Alix. Strahan kidnapped Donal, tortured Duncan, and murdered Finn. Does it really matter if the Ihlini believe they're justified in their actions?
It might, if the core of their disagreement was a misunderstanding. But it's pretty simple. The Cheysuli want the prophecy, the Ihlini don't. Nothing's really going to change that.
c) Are the Ihlini right? At least about the races being related? As mentioned, there's a lot to support the idea. Especially when we remember that the prophecy includes a requirement that two magical races be united. The lion shall lie down with the witch is a line that's going to be more important later.
Why would Ihlini and Cheysuli blood need to mix in order to achieve a Firstborn if they weren't related?
(It does make Tynstar raping Alix pretty fucking stupid. What if Bronwyn HAD BEEN his daughter? It'd just get them to the end result of the prophecy faster.)
Anyway, Niall is a little freaked out by the whole thing, and has some interesting thoughts:
I stood against the taffrail and wondered if there was, beyond the obvious, any real difference between Ihlini and Cheysuli.
We love and hate and fight with equal certitude. But then, so can brother and brother; so can sister and sister.
Bronwyn probably has an interesting perspective on that.
So the voyage continues. Niall has learned he's a good sailor in good weather and a poor sailor otherwise, and is hanging out below deck. Apparently, Ian, on the other hand, seems to like being above. And during a particularly bad bout, Niall comes up to find him. It sounds pretty awful:
The sun was swallowed by clouds. I could not tell if it were evening or afternoon. Wind-wracked, sea-swept, I could not even tell if it rained, or if the water came from the ocean. All I knew was I was soaked through in an instant, and the deck was incredibly slick.
“Ian?” He was somewhere on deck, I knew; he spent as much time above as I did below. “Ian!” Slipping, sliding, swearing, I made it to the taffrail and clung with all my might. Spray nearly drowned me; the wind tried to batter me back.
So this can't be good. Fortunately, Ian pops up pretty quickly. Apparently, the captain is urging them to go below. Niall's reluctant though, because he can actually breathe up here. (sea-sickness is a bitch.) Ian thinks they should probably listen though. Tasha's below deck already.
But it might be a bit late for that:
Out of the pewter-green skies came a tracery of lilac. Delicate fingers touched here, touched there, insinuating themselves between the lobes of heavy clouds. It spread; spreading, it began to swallow the waves as well as the sky.
And then:
The ship dropped, prow-first, into a deep trough. It seemed almost to stand on end. I clutched the rail and braced myself against the slippery deck.
“Niall—the wave—hold on—”
Crushing weight descended upon me. It drove me to the deck, battering at flesh and bones, until I slid freely across flooded decking and came to rest, however briefly, against a pile of massive rope. I clutched at the nearest coil, locking rigid fingers as the huge wave rolled over the deck. Timbers groaned and shuddered. Like a surly stallion, the ship bucked beneath my body.
The water lived. It tried to swallow me down a sea-dragon’s gullet, sucking, sucking, threatening to chew, until I lodged against a sore tooth and kicked, kicked, still clutching my coil of rope. Heaving, the sea-dragon spat me out; exhaled bleeding, screaming debris as well as silent bags of broken bone and shredded flesh.
Yeah, this isn't good. Niall tries to call out for Ian, even as the mast snaps off the fucking boat. He can hear Ian calling for him too. AND he hears the scream of a mountain cat.
So yeah, the ship's getting fucking destroyed. Niall manages to find Tasha. And this can't be good either:
The cat snarled, baring lethal teeth in rage and pain. In the lightning I saw the gaping hole in her flank.
“Oh Tasha—no!”
It was deep. Jagged. It bled freely, but the rain washed it open again. And again; I watched her life spill onto the deck.
The downside to the whole lir thing? When the lir dies, the bondmate dies too.
Niall pulls off his doublet and presses it against Tasha's wound. He's working one-eyed, as he got nailed in the face by something or other, and his other eye is swollen shut. We get a really fucked up metaphor:
The ship rolled. Caught. Shuddered like a man expending himself in a woman. Stopped dead.
I know Niall is a horny nineteen year old, but I feel like that simile is a bit much.
And then...
Shuddering again, the ship tilted farther yet and slid more deeply into the sea. Another wave drove it deeper, scraping the deck free of debris. At the broken rail I was caught by rigging; dragged up again as the ship wallowed, foundered, tried to pull free of the sea. As I grabbed for rope and spar, I saw Tasha swept by me into the dragon’s mouth.
Noooooooo.
But there's something else. The ship's hull has collided with rocks. Land. Maybe. And Niall's not alone: Lillith is somehow there too, clinging to a spar.
Hm. Does Ihlini sorcery extend to weather? Has anyone ever thought to ask?
Anyway, Lillith has an offer:
I saw her reach out a hand. I saw the silver flash of her painted nails. But mostly I saw her beguiling smile, promising life, survival, continuance.
“Your choice,” she said. “I will not make it for you.”
I drew in a trembling breath. “And the price of Ihlini aid?”
“Whatever your life is worth.”
I tried to swallow and found the task too painful. “My brother,” I croaked, “and his lir.”
Lillith smiled. And then she laughed. “I am sorry,” she said at last. “His choice is already made.”
Noooooo.
Niall spits in her direction, and Lillith summons purple flame and is gone. Then the spar she'd been clinging to breaks, hitting Niall straight in the chest and sending him into the water.
The chapter ends here.
So Niall's starting his sea voyage to Atvia. The map of the continent shows us that Homana is mostly inland. It has a southern coast, but is bordered on the west by Solinde, which stretches completely across that coast. Atvia is the northern of two islands to the west of that coastline.
Niall tells us that they could have gone overland through Solinde, then sailed to the island, but it's faster to leave through Hondarth, the city on Homana's southern coast and make the full journey by sea.
It seems like, unlike poor Bronwyn, Niall actually does get an escort. The full traveling party is Varien, Lillith, Ian, Tasha, and sixteen men picked from Donal's guard. Ian apparently finds the whole concept of a royal escort amusing, while Niall feels "a mixture of pride and resignation".
Unlike Donal, Niall doesn't try to pretend that being a prince sucks. He's content enough in his role, and with most of the traditions, though he is a little bit wistful about the new lack of freedom that marriage brings. I can appreciate that.
One of the first sights they see, leaving Hondarth, is the Crystal Isle. Supposedly the birthplace of the Cheysuli, more recently, Electra's prison. Ian is particularly affected by the history of the place. Niall isn't as into the idea, remembering the shar tahls (clan scholar/priests) drilling lessons into his head. Ian thinks that they should have come to visit the island then, it would have made the lessons more comprehensible.
This cute brotherly moment is interrupted:
“Why not recite those lessons to me?” inquired the husky voice from behind us. “Surely you know I learned a different history.”
I turned to face Lillith. Ian did not. Beside him, wide paws spread, Tasha snarled and pressed against Ian’s leg.
Ugh. I like Lillith as an adversary, but I like seeing the brothers be brothers more.
Lillith seems to have some interesting lessons for the boys herself:
Then shall I tell you what I know of the island?” She slipped between Ian and me, touching neither of us, yet I was as aware of her as if she were a wine too heady for my wits. As for Ian, I could not say how he responded, save to see how rigid was his posture, “It is the birthplace of the Cheysuli,” Lillith told us. “The heart, if you will, of Homana.”
Whatever I had expected of her, it was not that. Never the truth. Sidelong, I looked at her, and saw the distant smile. “The Ihlini rose out of Solinde,” I said; it was common knowledge.
A thick strand of hair was whipped into her face. Slender fingers caught at it and pulled it away from the questing grasp of the wind; silver-tipped nails flashed. “The Ihlini rose out of Homana.” The smile was gone, but there was no hostility in her tone, merely matter-of-factness. “I am certain Tynstar told Carillon, probably even your father. It is the truth, Niall; once the Ihlini and Cheysuli were as close—closer—than you and Ian.”
We've heard this before, and there is some possible merit to the claim. There are the big things: like the way Ihlini and Cheysuli powers tend to cancel each other out. The way the lir refuse to fight an Ihlini, even while expressing extreme dislike. There are smaller similarities too though: the runes on Hale's sword. The way Osric's eyes looked Ihlini purple in the light of the sword's ruby.
Honestly, I feel like the Ihlini got the better end of the deal, powers wise. If nothing else, women of the Ihlini actually GET powers.
Niall would prefer not to hear Lillith's "lies", but Ian has a more piercing question. What exactly does Lillith know of Tynstar.
This inspires Niall to a question of his own: how old is Lillith.
The answers to these questions are very interesting too:
She looked at each of us, one by one, and her smile grew wider still. “I shall answer both of you: I am more than a hundred years, and Tynstar was my father.”
Niall, stupidly, asks how this is possible. I mean, Tynstar was really old and really horny? Lillith basically says the same thing: Electra was Tynstar's mistress, sure, but she was hardly the first. Lillith's own mother was an Ihlini, and while the Ihlini don't recognize political/secular rank, she was basically a queen to Tynstar's king.
This also means that Strahan is Lillith's half brother. Lillith thinks he's young, and there's so much left for him to learn.
The confrontation is fraught but interesting:
“But not so much for you,” Ian said harshly. “Is that what you seek to say? To warn us of your power? Do not bother, lady. I have no intention of ignoring who or what you are.”
“No,” she said, “that is obvious. But why must you assume I bear you or your brother ill will?”
“You are Ihlini.” It was explanation in itself.
“And kin to you, somewhere ages and ages ago.” Lillith gathered in flying hair and contained it in a slender hand. “I am, albeit unspoken, Queen of Atvia. I am content with Alaric. What would I do with Homana? Why do you assume I want it?”
“You are Ihlini.” This time from me, and equally inflexible.
“Ihlini,” she said. “Second-born of the First, and therefore a threat to you.” Lillith shook her head. “Not all of us seek to hinder the prophecy.”
I hadn't thought of this before, but this reflects what we see of the Cheysuli. Neither group is a monolith anymore. The a'saii represent Cheysuli who don't support the prophecy, and believe that the intermixing of blood required weakens the race. They have their own ideas for how Cheysuli and Homana should exist.
It's a bit subtler with the Ihlini, but Lillith represents a different idea from Strahan. She's not any less evil, but her approach of using/manipulating the prophecy in its own right is interesting.
It's funny because, as we'll see throughout the rest of the series, in a way, Lillith and her successors may well be more effective than Strahan and his. But then, maybe that's because they're a necessary part of the prophecy too...
(I'm reminded of one of the genuinely interesting ideas in David Eddings's the Belgariad: the idea that a prophecy itself could be aware and actively manipulate in favor of its own existence. The Cheysuli prophecy is not that sort, but...well, things do tend to work out.)
Unfortunately, the dialogue takes a Roberson turn here, as JUST after Lillith says that not all of them hinder the prophecy, we get this:
Ian’s mouth opened, closed. I saw him visibly gather his thinning tolerance. “Lady,” he said finally, with the infinite patience of a man who despises his opponent, “you have the right of it when you say Tynstar must have spoken to Carillon and my jehan. Aye, I know the truth that drove the demon: fulfillment of the prophecy means the end of the Ihlini. How can you not work against us?”
Lillith stood very still. Mostly she faced Ian now, but in her profile I saw a look of exalted triumph. “Aye,” she said on a breath of accomplishment, “I think you begin to understand.”
Ian shook his head. “Understand an Ihlini? I think not.”
She backed away from us both; wind-whipped wraith, suddenly, indigo blue and black. And magnificent in her pride. “Why should we be any different?” she asked. “Why should we be hounded by your dogs of righteousness until no one in all the world can see the sense in what we do—why we fight for our survival! Do you see? Do you see it at all?” Her eyes searched my face and Ian’s. “Evil, you claim us; demons you call us; seed of the dark god himself. And why? Because we do what we must to survive. Survive! Would you do any differently if promised demise by the fulfillment of a prophecy?” The mantle cracked in the wind. “Words,” she said bitterly. “Words. And with them, you destroy an entire race. Even as you were nearly destroyed. Will you do the same to us? Unleash a Cheysuli qu’mahlin?”
So is Lillith for the prophecy, as she implied two seconds ago, or against it, as she rants about here?
If she was lying before, why suddenly 180 now? It's certainly not likely to make the boys suddenly trust her.
Oh well. Lillith makes up for this inconsistency by hitting Ian where it hurts:
“Enough,” Ian said, white-faced. “You have said enough.”
“Have I?” Lillith demanded. She glanced at me, then met Ian’s baleful, yellow-eyed glare. “Looking at you, I say I have not. But then you are fanatic enough to be a’saii.”
Niall thinks this is nonsense, and it is, but he gets a look at Ian's face:
Ian’s face was the mask I knew so well. But his ashen color was not. “She has the tongue of a serpent.”
“Can a serpent tell the truth?”
His head snapped around as he looked at me in shock. “You believe her?”
“No,” I told him, troubled, “I think no Ihlini would ever bear us anything but ill will. But what if she tells the truth about their reasons for hating us so?”
“Truth, lies, what does it matter? Their knives are just as sharp.” Ian shook his head. “Would it make you less dead if the man who slew you believed he was serving his race?”
The taste of salt was in my mouth. The tang was bittersweet. “No, rujho. No.”
“See that you remember it,” Ian told me flatly. “See that you never forget.”
a) So here's an interesting thought. IS Ian a'saii?
His love for Niall seems genuine. His scorn for Ceinn as well. His spoken reasons for not wanting the throne of Homana make sense.
But, on the other hand, Ceinn apparently feels welcome to come to Ian's tent. He's at least discussed his ideas with him. We know that Ian feels his illegitimacy sharply. How well do we know Ian?
And by asking these questions, are we just playing into Lillith's schemes all along?
Well done, Roberson. Lillith is a very effective adversary.
b) Ian does have a point here though. So what if Lillith does believe what she says? What difference does it make? Tynstar mutilated Carillon and raped Alix. Strahan kidnapped Donal, tortured Duncan, and murdered Finn. Does it really matter if the Ihlini believe they're justified in their actions?
It might, if the core of their disagreement was a misunderstanding. But it's pretty simple. The Cheysuli want the prophecy, the Ihlini don't. Nothing's really going to change that.
c) Are the Ihlini right? At least about the races being related? As mentioned, there's a lot to support the idea. Especially when we remember that the prophecy includes a requirement that two magical races be united. The lion shall lie down with the witch is a line that's going to be more important later.
Why would Ihlini and Cheysuli blood need to mix in order to achieve a Firstborn if they weren't related?
(It does make Tynstar raping Alix pretty fucking stupid. What if Bronwyn HAD BEEN his daughter? It'd just get them to the end result of the prophecy faster.)
Anyway, Niall is a little freaked out by the whole thing, and has some interesting thoughts:
I stood against the taffrail and wondered if there was, beyond the obvious, any real difference between Ihlini and Cheysuli.
We love and hate and fight with equal certitude. But then, so can brother and brother; so can sister and sister.
Bronwyn probably has an interesting perspective on that.
So the voyage continues. Niall has learned he's a good sailor in good weather and a poor sailor otherwise, and is hanging out below deck. Apparently, Ian, on the other hand, seems to like being above. And during a particularly bad bout, Niall comes up to find him. It sounds pretty awful:
The sun was swallowed by clouds. I could not tell if it were evening or afternoon. Wind-wracked, sea-swept, I could not even tell if it rained, or if the water came from the ocean. All I knew was I was soaked through in an instant, and the deck was incredibly slick.
“Ian?” He was somewhere on deck, I knew; he spent as much time above as I did below. “Ian!” Slipping, sliding, swearing, I made it to the taffrail and clung with all my might. Spray nearly drowned me; the wind tried to batter me back.
So this can't be good. Fortunately, Ian pops up pretty quickly. Apparently, the captain is urging them to go below. Niall's reluctant though, because he can actually breathe up here. (sea-sickness is a bitch.) Ian thinks they should probably listen though. Tasha's below deck already.
But it might be a bit late for that:
Out of the pewter-green skies came a tracery of lilac. Delicate fingers touched here, touched there, insinuating themselves between the lobes of heavy clouds. It spread; spreading, it began to swallow the waves as well as the sky.
And then:
The ship dropped, prow-first, into a deep trough. It seemed almost to stand on end. I clutched the rail and braced myself against the slippery deck.
“Niall—the wave—hold on—”
Crushing weight descended upon me. It drove me to the deck, battering at flesh and bones, until I slid freely across flooded decking and came to rest, however briefly, against a pile of massive rope. I clutched at the nearest coil, locking rigid fingers as the huge wave rolled over the deck. Timbers groaned and shuddered. Like a surly stallion, the ship bucked beneath my body.
The water lived. It tried to swallow me down a sea-dragon’s gullet, sucking, sucking, threatening to chew, until I lodged against a sore tooth and kicked, kicked, still clutching my coil of rope. Heaving, the sea-dragon spat me out; exhaled bleeding, screaming debris as well as silent bags of broken bone and shredded flesh.
Yeah, this isn't good. Niall tries to call out for Ian, even as the mast snaps off the fucking boat. He can hear Ian calling for him too. AND he hears the scream of a mountain cat.
So yeah, the ship's getting fucking destroyed. Niall manages to find Tasha. And this can't be good either:
The cat snarled, baring lethal teeth in rage and pain. In the lightning I saw the gaping hole in her flank.
“Oh Tasha—no!”
It was deep. Jagged. It bled freely, but the rain washed it open again. And again; I watched her life spill onto the deck.
The downside to the whole lir thing? When the lir dies, the bondmate dies too.
Niall pulls off his doublet and presses it against Tasha's wound. He's working one-eyed, as he got nailed in the face by something or other, and his other eye is swollen shut. We get a really fucked up metaphor:
The ship rolled. Caught. Shuddered like a man expending himself in a woman. Stopped dead.
I know Niall is a horny nineteen year old, but I feel like that simile is a bit much.
And then...
Shuddering again, the ship tilted farther yet and slid more deeply into the sea. Another wave drove it deeper, scraping the deck free of debris. At the broken rail I was caught by rigging; dragged up again as the ship wallowed, foundered, tried to pull free of the sea. As I grabbed for rope and spar, I saw Tasha swept by me into the dragon’s mouth.
Noooooooo.
But there's something else. The ship's hull has collided with rocks. Land. Maybe. And Niall's not alone: Lillith is somehow there too, clinging to a spar.
Hm. Does Ihlini sorcery extend to weather? Has anyone ever thought to ask?
Anyway, Lillith has an offer:
I saw her reach out a hand. I saw the silver flash of her painted nails. But mostly I saw her beguiling smile, promising life, survival, continuance.
“Your choice,” she said. “I will not make it for you.”
I drew in a trembling breath. “And the price of Ihlini aid?”
“Whatever your life is worth.”
I tried to swallow and found the task too painful. “My brother,” I croaked, “and his lir.”
Lillith smiled. And then she laughed. “I am sorry,” she said at last. “His choice is already made.”
Noooooo.
Niall spits in her direction, and Lillith summons purple flame and is gone. Then the spar she'd been clinging to breaks, hitting Niall straight in the chest and sending him into the water.
The chapter ends here.
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Whatever I had expected of her, it was not that. Never the truth. Sidelong, I looked at her, and saw the distant smile. “The Ihlini rose out of Solinde,” I said; it was common knowledge.
A thick strand of hair was whipped into her face. Slender fingers caught at it and pulled it away from the questing grasp of the wind; silver-tipped nails flashed. “The Ihlini rose out of Homana.” The smile was gone, but there was no hostility in her tone, merely matter-of-factness. “I am certain Tynstar told Carillon, probably even your father. It is the truth, Niall; once the Ihlini and Cheysuli were as close—closer—than you and Ian.”
Ooh, I love some plot and worldbuilding! Not bad for something that started as a fucked up fetish story.
“No,” I told him, troubled, “I think no Ihlini would ever bear us anything but ill will. But what if she tells the truth about their reasons for hating us so?”
“Truth, lies, what does it matter? Their knives are just as sharp.” Ian shook his head. “Would it make you less dead if the man who slew you believed he was serving his race?”
The taste of salt was in my mouth. The tang was bittersweet. “No, rujho. No.”
“See that you remember it,” Ian told me flatly. “See that you never forget.”
Ian is right.
This book has skyrocketed in quality compared to the last one, really.
We have lovable heroes and competent villains!
Also, Tynstar raped Alix simply because Roberson used to be worse at writing and hated Alix. But I respect the author for improving!
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There are still flaws in the series, which will become particularly apparent when we have the prophecy going in full swing. (...basically, if Niall and Gisella being cousins squicks you out, it's going to get worse...) But it's never going to be as bad as Shapechangers or Legacy of the Sword again.