They did not resist.
The compulsion took them. They walked the four steps to the cliff edge and stepped off.
Two more impacts on the rocks below.
The two human guards had held their position throughout, their backs to the cliff as their lord had commanded. They had heard the exchange between who they believed was Navuh and his sons, they had heard the shout, and they might have even heard the three impacts, but they hadn't seen any of it.
The collective reinforced everything with a thrall.
Lord Navuh had come to the cliff to meditate. His sons had arrived without invitation. The lord had been furious. The lord, who was the most powerful compeller in the world, had compelled his sons to kill one another for the unforgivable transgression of breaching his sanctuary.
The lord had remained on the cliff afterward, and the guards had not turned, because they had not been told to turn.
Number Three looked down at the angry ocean as it claimed its three tributes. The broken bodies were swallowed by the currents, and they were not likely to ever float up.
The collective felt no triumph, no satisfaction. There was a sense of completion, an operation that had been executed as planned. Losham's position was secured, the island's inhabitants weresafe under his leadership, and Dave could leave with a clean conscience.
34
SULLHA
Sullha hadn't bitten her nails in twelve years despite having had plenty of reasons to do so during that time, and yet here she was, sitting on her bench at the playground and worrying about Yaaf, with her left thumb in her mouth and a small, ragged edge between her teeth.
She lowered her hand and looked at it, made a soft noise of disgust, and wiped her thumb against the leg of her coveralls.
Despite washing her hands multiple times after her gardening shift this morning, there was still a little dirt at the base of her cuticles where it had just refused to come out.
She hadn't even bothered to bring a book because she was too nervous to read.
Today was the day of the assassination.
She did not know exactly when it would take place. It could have been done already, or it might still be in progress, or it might have failed.
If something had gone wrong inside the harem, Yaaf might be dead, and so might his teammates, but Sullha wouldn't know until it became clear that he wasn't coming. She would just sit on this bench, and hour by hour her hope would fade along with the sunlight.
She bit her nail again.
In the sandbox, Tomek and his two friends were building a giant castle complex.
They had been at it for over an hour, and the castle already had three towers, a moat, and a row of small flags Tomek had constructed by sticking twigs through scraps of leaf. Pol was packing wet sand into one of the old tin molds. Ronan was making his fourth trip to the bathroom with a dented can clutched in his hand to get water for their construction.
She watched them, but her mind was on Yaaf.
If he didn't come, she would have to somehow keep going despite how devastating that would be.
But how?
Without Yaaf and his teammates, there was no escaping the island, and she would have to deliver the bad news to Asira. She hadn't even told the girl that she'd singled her out because her brother had asked her to do that. How was she to tell her that her brother was gone?
She bit the nail down past where there was nail to bite, and the pain made her stop. She lowered her hand and tucked it under her opposite arm to keep it away from her teeth.
The displacement of air behind her was so slight that she almost missed it despite listening for it for hours. She whipped her headaround and found Yaaf materializing in front of her eyes the way he always did when he released his thrall on her. She knew that he wasn't really forming shape and that it was only an illusion her mind produced, but it was nevertheless startling, and her hand came up to her chest.
"Thank heavens you're all right," she said, the phrase sitting much better with her than 'praise Mortdh,' which was what she was expected to say.
Mortdh wasn't her god, but she needed to thank something, and heaven was a generic enough term that could be applied to fate or providence or whatever higher power existed in this universe.
"I was so worried," she added.
