because for four full days she’d battled the demon without a pause, and the demon’s sword had often found its mark. So her body bled from a thousand wounds and she could feel herself failing, and said she was near death in that final rush, with her own blood streaming down her arms and dripping from the blade of her sword. She made a final prayer to Vela and struck—and her blade cut through the demon’s arm. While it looked to her, stunned, she split its skull with a single blow.”
“So we pray to Vela?” Aerax gave a short laugh. “But no power does the goddess have on the island.”
Lizzan might attempt it anyway, but prayer was not what she took from that story. “So it can be harmed by its own flesh and blood? The demon tusker was killed by its own tusks. And a demon-queen was killed by her daughter, but only after the daughter’s blood was upon the blade.”
All looked to Saxen, who held himself apart from everyone crowded near him as best he could. In the full turn upon the road, rarely had he spoken, and never did he touch anyone. Even if someone merely handed to him a bowl, he took great care not to brush skin against skin.
A muscle worked in his jaw and his eyes closed. “So I am to be bled again?”
Lizzan’s heart clenched. “I am so very sorry.”
After a long moment, he nodded. “It will be for good reason. And at least it will be of my choosing.”
“That cannot be how they killed the Scourge,” said Seri. “It was made of volcanic rock, and had no flesh and blood.”
Lizzan gave to her a dour look. “Do not pester me with complications, dragon-rider. Goranik is not made of rock, and the blood gives us a hopeful place to begin.”
“So it does,” she said with a sudden grin. “And if Ran Bantik killed the demon Scourge by waiting until a chunk of its body fell to the ground and then throwing the rock at its eye, perhaps that is why none of our songs say how it was slain. Instead of uniting, the tribes might have taken to throwing rocks at each other.”
That image drew a few chuckles, and it was into the sudden lighter mood that Lady Junica said to Aerax, “If you succeed in killing this demon before he casts his spell, perhaps hold off on sinking the island so that these people can return for their belongings and—”
“I will not hold off,” Aerax said.
She frowned at him. “I do not suggest that we leave the souls imprisoned. I have as much reason as anyone to wish for their freedom. But if the demon is dead, then no immediate danger is there, and we might search for a way to free them without destroying the island and all that Kothans know.”
“I will not wait,” said Aerax again. “All of the island will be empty. No better time will there be.”
“And you make this decision for all of us?”
“I do. For I know what will happen if I delay. There will be meetings about when it should be done, and forever that day will be changed and extended, because someone will not be ready. There will be those who begin saying it is all lies, that I only hope to sink Koth in revenge for when I was nameless—and others will believe it is a lie because they want to believe it is one, and because it is easier to ignore the souls in torment than to start their lives anew.”
Lady Junica shook her head. “But it is their family and loved ones who are trapped, too. Kothans will not allow their suffering to continue.”
Aerax broke out in a full laugh. “Let me tell you of the Koth that I know. It is a Koth ruled by fear and self-interest. What punishment is there for speaking to someone whose name is not written in the books? What punishment is there for those who refuse to pretend they don’t exist or for saying their name? A lashing? Imprisonment? A fine?”
The councilor blinked. “You know very well there is no punishment.”
“No punishment except the scorn of their neighbors. And yet I was a boy full grown the first time someone other than my mother spoke my name. All of my life, Koth would not even acknowledge a child with the simple kindness of seeing him, because they feared what others might say.” His big