Demon Drums by Carol Severance

Author:Carol Severance
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 1992-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

IUTI lifted Tarawe and carried her past the huge eunuch, and away from the vulnerability of the overhead archers. As soon as she was inside, she stopped. They were in a small antechamber, bare except for a low bench along one wall. A beaded doorway led to whatever other rooms the warren held.

“I'll care for the girl,” the eunuch said. “Put her on the bench.”

Iuti turned slowly to face him. She straightened to her full height. The movement brought a stab of pain to her knees and her back. “She has the killing sickness,” she said. “You can't help her any more than I can. Call Ola.”

“Ola's not—”

“Call her, or I'll do it myself.”

The beads rattled behind her. “You never change, Iuti Mano,” a familiar voice said. “You're still as arrogant as ever. Give that child to Mapa before you drop her.”

Iuti slumped again, this time in overwhelming relief. She released Tarawe into the eunuch's waiting hands. “I had a good teacher, Auntie Ola,” she muttered. The eunuch gave her a curious look, but as she turned, she saw that Ho'ola was grinning.

“You look terrible,” Ho'ola said, “and you smell worse. There'll be a bath ready shortly. Are you injured? What happened to your face?”

Iuti shook her head. “It's the girl. She has—”

“I heard.” Ho'ola motioned Mapa to bring Tarawe to her. Even unconscious, Tarawe grimaced and groaned with her internal torture. Ola flicked her fingers before Tarawe's face, then swung them in a quick circle around her head. “What in the world did she do? Murder her mother?”

“No,” Iuti said sharply.

Ola looked up. “This couldn't have been caused by an honest kill.”

“It was caused by many,” Iuti said, “and she's had no training in dealing with death, honest or otherwise. I think she might be one of those never meant to kill at all.”

Ho'ola cursed softly and returned her attention to Tarawe. “How many deaths?”

“Thirteen humans that we're certain of, probably more by now, and uncountable sea and reef folk. She killed three by her own hand, and three more by way of a sword with which she's become bound. Most of the rest are the result of a storm she mistakenly called near the northern islands. Those deaths continue.”

“A storm?” Ola's brows lifted high. “This young thing is a wind caller?”

Iuti sighed. She was shivering uncontrollably in the unheated room. She wanted nothing more than to collapse. Tarawe twitched in Mapa's arms. “It's a long story, Aunt.”

Ola stared at her for a moment, then harumphed. “Yours usually are. Come on then. You can tell me while Mapa cleans her up. I can't work through the skagrat stench without doing more damage than good. You're a damn fool for coming into Sandar now. I hope you know that.” She swept back through the beads without waiting for an answer.

“Aye,” Iuti replied to the scented air of her passing.

A bath and warm clothing, a full meal in her belly, and the knowledge that Tarawe was in the best possible hands made it possible for Iuti to relax just a little.

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