the main courtyard. Emerging into the night air, Reivan paused to muse at the sight before her. In the center of the yard, where a fountain cooled the air during the day, a large tent now stood. Lamps inside the tent cast the shadows of a woman and child on the cloth walls. Voices within formed strange, highly pitched incomprehensible words. Reivan moved to the tent flap.
“May I come in?” she called.
“Yes,” Imenja replied. “We were just talking about Imi’s home. It sounds like a fascinating place.”
Reivan pushed aside the door flap and stepped inside. The Elai child was resting her elbows atop the wall of the fountain, which was now full of sea water carried up by slaves. Her skin looked even darker in the lamplight. When Reivan recollected the drawings of sea folk in the Thinkers’ books she was amazed at their inaccuracies. This child had no fish tail or flowing locks of hair. She was completely hairless and had a pair of normal legs.
Almost normal, Reivan corrected. Imi’s hands and feet were disproportionately large, and between her fingers and toes was a thick webbing. Other distortions in the girl’s body suggested further differences. Her chest was broad for a child. Reivan would not have been surprised to learn that the Elai had much larger lungs than normal humans.
The artists who had drawn such fanciful illustrations would have been disappointed by Imi. All in all, the distortions and hairlessness did not make for an attractive race. Not even the pretty tunic she now wore could hide that. As the girl smiled, displaying slightly pointed white teem, Reivan had to suppress a shudder.
“Reivan,” Imi said, speaking slowly.
“Imi,” Reivan replied. “How are you feeling?”
Imenja translated. The girl glanced at her peeling skin and a look of sadness clouded her face as she replied.
“She is feeling stronger,” Imenja told Reivan. “She has certainly been through a lot. Captured by fishermen then by pirates, both who made her work for them. Then she was sold to the merchant—is it done?”
“Yes. He claims she is an animal, so he wasn’t breaking any law. He left with the slave-keeper.”
“Good. Stupidity is no excuse for cruelty. None of her captors attempted to talk to her. They fed her only raw fish and left her to dry out. The Elai—”
Imi said something. Imenja smiled and spoke to the girl, then turned back to Reivan.
“The Elai need to spend some time in salt water each day. They eat a variety of food, like we do. Not just produce from the sea.” She paused. “You’ll never guess who she is.”
Reivan chuckled. “No, I’d say that’s unlikely.”
Imenja turned back to regard Imi. “She is the daughter of the Elai king.”
Surprised, Reivan looked down at the child. The girl smiled uncertainly.
“How did she come to be captured by humans?”
“She slipped away from her guardian to go looking for a gift for her father.”
“Does he know she was captured?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. What is certain is that he won’t be the only Elai celebrating when she is returned to her people.”
“Unless her capture was arranged by his enemies.”
Imenja frowned. “That is possible.”
“You’ll have to be careful when you return her.”
“Me?” Imenja’s eyebrows rose. “Why do you think I’ll be taking her home?”
“Because she is a king’s daughter. She was sold to someone living in our land. If she returns and tells her story, we will be blamed in part for her ordeal unless a great demonstration of apology is made. And,” Reivan smiled, “because the Elai were never involved in the war, there is no lingering resentment barring you from introducing them to the Five.”
Imenja stared at Reivan in surprise and approval. “You’re right.” She looked at Imi and smiled. “I should take her back myself. And you will have to come with me. I’ll have to convince Nekaun, of course, but the possibility of gaining an ally will probably sway him. If we are successful nobody will dare object if I make you my Companion.”
Imi stared back at Imenja. She spoke, her strange words forming a question. Imenja’s reply brought a relieved smile to her face.
“She is tired,” Imenja said. “We should let her rest.” She spoke a farewell to the child, then rose and led Reivan out of the tent.
“I will speak to Nekaun now. You may as well go to bed. If he agrees you’ll have a sea voyage to organize for us in the morning.”
“More work!” Reivan groaned, pretending to be dismayed by the prospect. The Second Voice