Novels
CHAPTER ONE
The girl hurried through the street. Barely any light covered them; only the
occasional lantern hanging over a tavern door or slats of illumination peeking
between shuttered windows offered oases from the darkness. Thick clouds covered the sky, trapping in
the suffocating heat of the day and shutting out the moon. The girl tried to walk normally but kept
casting nervous glances over her shoulder.
Not far to go now, she told herself.
It wasn't a very dangerous part of East Zabrial but the hour was far too
late. No part of East Zabrial was truly
safe at night. She had lived in the
city all her life and it could still frighten her.
She emerged
into Cantini Way, looked up and down the street and cursed, her fear mounting a
little. At the end was a right turning
into Alstace Avenue, where she lived.
But just before the turning she saw a large group of silhouetted figures
milling around a rare street lantern.
Their calls and laughs spilled down the street; all male and all
probably drunk. The girl slowed her
pace. They were probably theoretically
harmless, she knew, at least by East Zabrial's standards. Just a group of louts who had been thrown
out of a tavern. But what exactly was
she going to have to put up with, a teenage girl walking past a group of at
least ten men sharing a bottle. A whole
barrage of lewd suggestions at the very least.
She really was in no sort of mood for that. Not after the evening she had just endured.
An alleyway to
her right suddenly caught her eye. She
stopped and considered it. She knew the
streets in this district very well.
That alley, she was almost certain, turned left into another and she
could go down that to eventually reach the courtyard where her house stood from
the other direction. She glanced both
ways down Cantini Way again. The
drinkers hadn't seen her and nobody else was about. She stepped into the alley.
The darkness
became almost absolute. She could
barely make out the house walls which stood a foot either side of her. She moved slowly, uncertain how even the
ground was, and also breathed through her mouth to avoid the growing stench of
garbage and urine. After a dozen steps
she was regretting her choice and her anxiety was fermenting into a barely
suppressed panic. She kept going,
however.
Because it was
so dark, she didn't even notice the doorway she walked past. And she didn't notice the two men standing
there, waiting for what the night might bring.
"Excuse
me, sir?"
Jed Colac, who
had been giving the tavern a first cautious audit, turned with some
irritation. The doorman, an extremely
dark-skinned and extremely large man with a shaven head, leather armour and a cudgel,
was looking expectantly at him.
"No
weapons allowed inside, sir," the doorman continued in his deep
baritone. "If you wouldn't mind
handing over your sword..?"
Jed sighed,
but unfastened his sword belt and passed it over. The doorman put it in a large bucket behind him, which already
held a considerable armoury.
"I get
that back in any condition other than it's in now…" Jed began to warn,
then lost heart. "Oh, forget
it. Bet you've heard 'em all
anyway."
Besides, he
decided, he rather approved of the policy.
The tavern lay on East Zabrial's central docks and adhered to the
traditions of such establishments. It
was dingy, low-ceilinged, smoky and full of men who, had they been upwardly
mobile, might have aspired to being the dregs of society one day. Shadowy groups clustered around the battered
tables, some muttering to one another, some gambling on dice and some just
drinking their way towards surly oblivion.
A few looked up as Jed Colac walked in but none seemed very
interested. He scarcely appeared out of
place, he knew. In his late twenties
but looking older, he had a haggard and slightly scarred face, weary eyes and
straggly brown hair. He was tall and
actually quite slender but seeming plump; close inspection would reveal armour
being warn underneath his dark, baggy clothes.
He didn't look altogether very pleasant and was rarely subjected to
close inspection.
He continued
looking around the tavern until a man sat in one corner gave him a small
wave. Unlike Jed, who had the pale
brown skin of a Dorlafan, both men at the table were again very dark in
complexion. One was extremely bulky –
not fat, Jed knew – with and oval face and pudgy features, the other was
emaciated, small and restless.
"Evening
Syran," Jed said to the larger man and indicated the other. "This the bloke then?" Syran nodded and Jed turned to him. "Evening, lad. My name's Jed Colac. Here's how it works. You tell me the truth an' I give you
money. Simple enough?"
The smaller
man looked directly at him for the first time.
His eyes, the whites as well as the rims, were scarlet.
"Blimey,
you caught it all right," Jed said cheerfully. He waved his fingers in front of the damaged eyes until the man
irritably turned away.
"Piss off
with that," he whined. "I'm
sick of everyone doing that. I can see,
all right? Just not too well yet."
"OK, OK,
sorry. So what happened to you?"
"It was
the other night, right? And me and my
mate were just hanging around, not doing any harm to anyone, when-"
Jed
sighed. "OK. I guess I didn't put across the whole 'tell
me the truth' part too well. Let's back
up a bit an' start again…"
The men had
followed the girl for several steps before she heard them. She turned and just made out two patches of
denser blackness heading towards her.
Instantly she turned back and began to run. A second later, they pounced.
She made it a short way, then her foot slipped and she stumbled for a
fatal second. A hand grabbed her arm,
roughly forcing her round. She flailed
out with her free hand but her wrist was caught in a steel grasp; she kicked
forward and only made contact with air.
Meanwhile, the other man had slipped around the struggling pair. He grasped the girl's arms and forced them
behind her back. That left his
companion free to concentrate on her clothing.
She did not
scream. She never screamed. That gave the man, beneath his intoxicated
lust, his first indication that something was wrong. Instead, as he ripped her coat open, she began muttering
something. It seemed to be a foreign language,
full of strange accents, sudden rises and falls. And it apparently wasn't even being addressed towards her
attackers, but was just a speech inside her head being read at random. The speech began quietly but, as the man was
about to pull her blouse apart, built into a piercing crescendo.
Then the dark
alley was filled with sudden, searing light.
"I dunno
how fucking long it lasted," the man continued to whine. "Probably only a second, but it was so
damn bright I couldn't see nothing else for ages. Me pal neither. We were staggering around like fucking cripples
half the night. Miracle we weren't set
on, that's what it was. Couldn't see
anything till half-way through the next day.
I'll probably never see properly again.
But if I meet that little bitch again, I'll see enough. Fucking wizards. There ought to be a law."
"There
is," Jed said evenly. "Last
time I heard there were one against rape an' all, but hey. Where can I find this mate of yours?"
"You fuck
off," the man returned with sudden venom.
"You think I'm telling you that?
Who the fuck are you anyway? I
tell you now, you anything to do with the Guards and you can kiss
my-" He froze. Jed had moved his hand under the table and
the man was suddenly feeling a sharp object pressing into his belly. "What's that?" he hissed.
"I were
to make an educated guess, I'd say it were a dagger."
"You-
You're not supposed to bring weapons in here."
"Aye, I
know. An' if I were you I'd make a
stiff complaint to the management.
Security in this place is shocking.
Get what you pay for, I guess.
An' last time I remember, I was paying you for information. So never mind the sudden coyness, let's here
it." After being supplied with a
name and address, Jed continued.
"OK. An' to save time, I
know it were dark till that blinding light came along. I know you were too busy thinking with your
dick to really notice this girl's appearance.
Just a handy vagina for you, right?
Or not, as it turned out. But as
far as you know, what did she look like?"
The bell rang
and shoals of girls immediately pushed gratefully out of the school gates. All wore the same uniform; a baggy, pale
brown dress which stretched half-way down their shins, a flat and broad-brimmed
hat, long socks and solid sandals. They
filled Kaskar Lane in a beige, solid mass and then slowly dispersed in
chattering twos and threes. One pair,
walking arm in arm, paused to buy bottles of iced water from a strategically
placed stall and then headed for their homes, three streets away.
"Like, I don't
know what I was thinking when I took church studies," one of them was
groaning. "I thought it was gonna
be like what we get taught in, well, church.
Lots of ever-so hearty exploits as Narlan crushes his enemies. Who'd have thought he made so many speeches. You'd think, ocean god, right, there's
certain practical problems with that."
Dala Ossasi looked almost indistinguishable from any other sixteen year
old Zabric schoolgirl. She was tall,
slim, dark, vivacious, delicately featured and pretty in a slightly androgynous
way. Only her eyes were rather
unusual. Very large, they also had an
unfocussed look which gave Dala a (largely) unjustified air of stupidity.
"You want
less of the speeches and more of the smitings?" Minyanis Axot
giggled. Though the same age as her
friend, Minyanis was very different in appearance. Small and plump, she had an oval face which, though tanned from
the sun, was much paler naturally. High
cheekbones and curved brows flanked narrow, tapering eyes. Her wide mouth was usually smiling and her
generally sunny demeanour created the aura of uncomplicated happiness; again,
not necessarily accurate.
"Now, I'm
not saying he should smite left, right and centre," Dala protested. "You know me, I'm all for giving peace a
chance. But sometimes a god's gotta do
what a god's gotta do. And what's with
all that manifesting himself that goes on?
Always as the same thing too, a giant man made out of water. Like, show a bit of originality, man. God, sorry.
Do you suppose clothes are part of that get-up?"
"Let's
see now watery trousers, a little watery hat… It doesn't seem very
likely."
"So he'd
be naked? With his you-know-what in
full view? Urgh. And how solid is the whole set-up likely to
be? If I saw him and a bit of water
dripped off the end of his chap, I'd just freak. Do you think we're being blasphemous talking like this?"
"You
are," Minyanis said happily.
"But as I'm not Church of Narlan myself, I'm just being
intolerant."
"Cool. And now we've got to learn yet another Tars
Tukas off by heart for History. I love
and respect them all, of course, but you do wish the legends of our city would
just shut up once in a while. Now
there's a face I've not seen before," Dala continued without a pause as
they turned into the courtyard where they lived. "And I'd be quite content not ever seeing it again."
The courtyard
was surrounded by quiet three-story houses built of amber stone. Once they had probably looked grandiose but
time was gradually diminishing them. In
the centre of the courtyard stood a cluster of trees, dehydrated and also
slowly dying. The compromised grandeur
of the scene matched its neighbourhood.
It lay in the southern reaches of East Zabrial, on a gently rising
hillside. It wasn't on the clifftops to
the north, where the mansions of the city's elite stood. Nor, though, was it one of the truly
festering districts which comprised the heart of East Zabrial.
The man under
scrutiny was broad and plump featured, clad in a dirty, short-sleeved
tunic. He was lying propped against one
of the trees with his hat covering his eyes, and he appeared to be asleep.
"I think
he looks sweet," Minyanis declared as they studied him from a safe
distance.
"That's
because you're on heat, Min."
"True. You want to do anything tonight?"
Dala made a
face. "Chores, chores and more
chores is what I will be doing, even after I've finished my date with Mr
Tukas. How about tomorrow?" They had no school the next day.
"Sure. If you want, we could meet up with that girl
I was talking about."
"Oh, the
one who works at the docks? Yeah,
cool."
"She's
big and brawny with huge muscles and she's a modern woman with her own career
and she's really nice and-"
"Min,"
Dala interrupted. "I kind of
already agreed."
"Oh. Sorry," Minyanis giggled. "When I have a good oratory prepared, I
hate to see it wasted." More
seriously and quietly, she added, "You haven't told your parents about the
other night have you?"
"The fact
I'm not being locked in my room the instant I get home from school should
answer that one. I've not even told
them I was out that night, let alone what…"
"You
know, Dala, you should talk to
someone about it. There's bound to be,
I don't know, a wizard who can be trusted, or if not an actual wizard
then-"
"I know,
I know," Dala said uncomfortably.
"I will, I promise. Some
time. But I think I've still got it
under control."
"But even
so-"
"Min,
please." Dala spoke so plaintively
that her friend relented.
"OK. Sorry.
Meet you here tomorrow about noon-ish?"
"Noon-ish." And they parted towards their respective
homes, which frowned wearily across the courtyard at each other.
"I ought
to have some suitable words for this sad occasion," Jed declared. "But all I can come up with is
'Good.'"
He had found
the second would-be rapist. The man was
lying on his bed with his hands tied behind his back. Heavy bruising covered his face and his crimson eyes were wide
open. His head had been bent back at a
lethal angle. Clouds of flies fought
for pickings from the body, and steady lines of red ants greedily marched up
and down it.
"Don't
hang rapists in this city, do you?" Jed continued. "So, good."
Syran was
stood beside him, surveying the body with equal dispassion. "Maybe another word," he suggested
in his deep voice, "Should be 'why?'"
Jed
shrugged. "Here we've got some
little turd who lives by picking on helpless victims an' robbing 'em's the
kindest thing he does to 'em. He don't
make much of a secret where he lives an' him an' his mate are prone to boasting
about what they've been up to. Only a
matter of time before someone's dad caught up to one of 'em."
"You
think that's all it was."
"It's the
most likely. Let's not get jumpy before
we have to." He sighed. "OK.
We ain't got a clue what to look for, but we'd better have a quick nose
around to check there's nowt totally bloody obvious."
It didn't take
long. The room, which lay in a decrepit
apartment block close to the Gunti Market, was small and poorly furnished. The dead man had had few belongings and no
inclination to tidy them away, simply leaving them scattered across the
floor. Jed picked distastefully through
the filthy plates and undergarments, then glanced over his shoulder at Syran. His partner was carefully examining the
body.
"Anything?"
Syran took a
closer look at the ropes around the man's wrists. "Tied his hands up, pushed his head back, broke his
neck. What you'd expect. Some sort of slime on the ropes."
Jed joined him
and touched the rope. "Any idea
what it is?" He sniffed his finger
and flinched at the smell.
"Slime's
slime to me."
"Any
guess how long he's been like this?"
"Three
days?"
"Night
after the attack then." Jed wiped
his hand on the bedsheets. "OK,
let's go."
The instant
they stepped out into the hall, a door opened and a face glared suspiciously at
them. Jed rounded on it.
"An' what
are you bloody looking at? There's been
a dead body lying next door to you for three days. Garrath, don't you people use your bloody noses? Let's get back to my place," he said to
Syran as they hurried down the stairs.
Jed's 'place'
also lay depressingly close to the Gunti Market. The market itself was a world-renowned trading point for the
goods and marvels of two continents; but the district was not a good one. Nor was the guest house where Jed was
staying a good one. His room enjoyed a
view of a brick wall three feet away and, apart from the absence of clutter,
looked very similar to the one he had just left. Jed did not have clutter.
Most of the items he had brought to East Zabrial were carefully stored
away in case civic-minded landladies happened to wander into his room.
"I dunno
why you couldn't put me up at your place," he complained, splashing his
face in a tub of filmy water.
Syran settled
easily back onto the bed. "I told
you. Matters of security."
"Oh,
aye. That old one. You know, I've got a family of trolls living
next door."
"Yes, I
noticed them. They'll be traders from
Ellniss. Harmless. And you're not supposed to call them
trolls."
"Eh? Oh, right.
The Dwarves who live in the Cities have got like that. Can't call 'em Dwarves anymore, you've got
to call 'em what they call themselves in their own tongue. Khukalak or summit like that. Say it wrong an' everyone thinks you've got
a throat infection."
"I meant,
they aren't technically trolls. They're
oolags. Similar ancestry but a
different species. Real trolls are ten
feet high and wouldn't be welcome in the average guest house. Even in this city."
"Yeah? Leave toenail clippings half a yard long,
that sort of thing?"
"They've
a tendency to eat masonry. And – what's
that other thing? Oh yes. People."
Jed leant
against the window frame with his arms crossed. "You live an' learn, I guess. An' what have we lived an' learnt? We’ve got a bright flash of light, maybe caused by magic,
happening in the neighbourhood which might be the right one. You overheard two girls talking, sort of
hinting that one of 'em's got powers.
And that one sort of fits the semi-description given by a weasily piece
of shit who can't even see properly anymore.
Ain't quite good enough is it?
We're gonna have to do a bit more digging."
"It's
your call. But we need to move
quickly."
"Aye. But we've also got to be sure. This it one of those blow it once, blow it
forever deals."
"Maybe quicker
than we first thought," Syran persisted.
"If that man wasn't killed by an angry parent. After tying him up, before breaking his
neck, they could have questioned him."
"Yeah, I
know." Jed started wandering
around, waving his arms in frustration.
"You know what I'd really like to do. Get in touch with the dam Elmii an' ask their advice. Don't suppose you've got that scriving ball,
that wondrous device they gave me to communicate with 'em across vast distances
in an instant, to bloody work yet?"
Syran shook
his head. "I'll keep trying. East Zabrial's a tricky place for using
magic. There's too many random forces
passing through it. It makes everything
fluctuate."
"Yeah." Jed gave a short, mirthless laugh. "An' there's no chance they'd have sent
me out with faulty equipment, is there?
Like, that'd be totally out of character for the preparations for this
mission."
"Has
anyone told you you're a bit cynical?"
"Aye. Someone on the Elmii told me that once. An' when wizards
think you're too cynical, you get a bit worried."
East Zabrial –
Gateway To The World. (It has many more
less flattering labels as well.) Ever
since Teraf was first colonised the city has been the chief port linking the
continent to Elniss, which lies across the Eastern Ocean. Great convoys of ships cross the seas twice
a year; many more private sailings are made as well. Rare herbs, fruits, skins and magical artefacts come from
Ellniss, manufactured goods and weapons are sent in return by Teraf and
countless fortunes have been made through the trade. The sea also offers East Zabrial, surrounded on all other sides
by desert, its easiest method of transportation and the city is the
southernmost link of the chain of ports which run up the Christotan post. East Zabrial's docks spread the whole length
of its extensive harbour front. They
stretch from the Psiani Pier in the north to the central Finger of Light to the
southern Abal Pier by the Town Council buildings, a great jumble of warehouses,
jetties, loading bays, taverns, boat-building yards, counting houses, auction
pits and recruiting centres. They
incorporate a vast array of buildings, from the overbearing Tukas Emporium
standing by the Finger of Light to endless collections of ramshackle huts of
miscellaneous functions.
Dala and
Minyanis found Kristin L'rnass in one of the humbler areas. The gang of hauliers she worked with had
spend the morning unloading a battered looking galleon and carrying its goods
into a nearby warehouse. If the girls
were hoping for glimpses of exotic Ellniss riches then they were
disappointed. The ship had travelled no
further than Denlich on the Dorlafan coast and mainly carried crates of
turnips.
"This is pretty exotic by our standards,"
Kristin told them. "Most of the
time we just get to unload fishing nets.
I see them beasties staring at me in my sleep sometimes." She was eating her lunch, a glass of beer
and a huge collection of bread rolls from a nearby tavern, as they say by the
quayside. Ahead, the huge sweep of
Zabrial Bay glittered in the sun. The
rest of Kristin's gang were eating a little way away, a noisy cluster of
thickset, half-naked men.
"It must
be exciting when the big convoys come in though," Minyanis
encouraged. As usual, she was the more
animated one. Dala, never at ease with
strangers, sat quietly by her side.
"Oh, it's
a scream. We work twenty hour shifts
for two weeks solid until we're weeping with exhaustion. Most of the money we earn, we spend it
trying to get our strength back after."
"You're
not exactly selling this job to us."
Kristin
laughed. "I wouldn't sell it to
anyone. It's a hard life, girls. Dangerous, back-breaking labour and precious
little reward at the end of it. And I
have to put up with that lot hitting on me all the time," she added,
indicating her workmates. Both girls
thought that indicated a little desperation on their part. Kristin L'rnass was
indeed big and brawny, with a thick net, a powerful chest and muscles rippling
up her long arms. She also had the
thick black hair and pointed features of a Kakranfan, although many years in
the East Zabric sun had turned her naturally pale skin a light brown. Her manner was ostensibly open and
uncomplicated but Dala remained on her guard.
There was a watchfulness about Kristin, and a suggestion that she was
more cunning than she let show.
"But
you've made your choice," Minyanis was saying. "And stuck to it for, eight years is it? I'd say that was a kudos-worthy
situation."
"Thanks. But I've not a lot of choice with my
qualifications. You stick with your
education, girls. It's the only thing
that'll take you forward."
"Oh
yes. For example, in school yesterday
we learned that East Zabrial has a patriarchal society where women are barred
from all the top jobs," Minyanis said happily.
"You're
not from this city are you?"
"Er,
that's one of those definition-defining questions. My parents are from Ellniss and braved, so they keep telling me,
all kinds of strange and bizarre terrors before they crossed the ocean. Whereas I've just lived here, all my
life."
"Same
here. My family's from Kakranfé but
I've never known anywhere but East Zabrial."
"Great,"
Dala remarked. "You're both from
ethnic minorities but I'm the only one not born here." Seeing Kristin's querying glance she
explained, "We moved from Port Crabal when I was about five. Go…" She waved a fist in the air but
then stopped. "Sweet Narlan, I've
forgotten how to cheer on Port Crabal."
"Go
Compromise?" Minyanis suggested.
"You both
live around Alstace Avenue, don't you?" Kristin asked after a slight
pause. "There was a bit of trouble
around there the other night, I heard."
"Er, try
pretty much every night," Dala said quickly.
"Yeah,
but this was different. Couple of men
tried attacking a girl and ended up getting blinded. The rumours are saying the girl was a wizard."
Dala looked
away. "I heard about that, I
think. Why do you mention it?"
"Just
concerned, that's all. You need to
watch your step, girls. Nowhere seems
safe anymore."
"Oh, you
don’t need to worry about us," Minyanis said. "Well, you can worry about me in moderation if you want, but
not Dala. She's-" She broke off
hastily. Dala turned to give her a
warning glare and noticed Kristin staring at her inquisitively.
"She's
what?" the Kakranfan woman asked.
"What are you, Dala?"
"She's…
into self defence," Minyanis extemporised nervously. "Really, really good at it. The Way Of The Scorpion, the whole flying
fists and feet deal, isn't that right Dala?"
"Bricks
into rubble with one blow," Dala confirmed straight-faced. She then rose. "We'd better be going, Min.
We've got that thing, remember?"
"Have
we? Oh yes, that thing. I'm sorry Kristin, but we've got to go and
do this thing that needs doing. If you multiply
infinity by something really, really massive," she told Dala as they
hurried away from the docks, "You still wouldn't be close to how sorry I
am."
"It's OK,
Min. I'm sure no harm was done. Your backing and filling technique was
admirable."
"I think
we can trust Kristin anyway. Unlike
certain people whose names begin with 'M', she's not exactly Miss
Blabbermouth. And she's really
nice…"
"I
know. I'm sure we can. But I've got to be so careful, you
know?" Dala sighed. "She was right. Nowhere's safe anymore."
It was a
small, bricked cellar. Far above lay
the streets of East Zabrial, though there was no immediate clue of this. Normally it stood abandoned and forgotten. Now, though, five figures were stood on its
dusty floor, clustered around a large empty table. Long grey robes cloaked their bodies and their faces were
shrouded with hoods. For a long time
they stood in silence, not apparently acknowledging each another.
Then one gave
a small signal and they threw back their hoods. Each had a vaguely humanoid face but with some porcine
characteristics; broad, flared nostrils, thickset red eyes, tusks which
protruded up from heavy lower jaws.
Their skins were a dull green, their heads were bald and their ears were
long and tapered. One of the creatures
looked older than the others insofar as that could be discerned; the many lines
creasing its face were deeper and its movements were slower. It lay its hands on the table top and, after
another gesture from the first creature, began to chant. Its surprisingly melodic voice echoed around
the cellar, an undulating cascade which sometimes incorporated strange,
protracted words and sometimes was little more than a keening wail. The other creatures waited silently. Eventually the air above the table began to
glow. As the older creature chanted on,
the light danced, split and formed itself into a pattern of lines and
rectangles. The chanting abruptly
stopped but the shapes still hung there.
"What's
this?" the first creature demanded.
Their language was rough and harsh, a guttural collection of growls and
grunts.
"What you
wanted," the older one replied. He
seemed to have been left exhausted and swayed as he stood. "Where she is."
The other
stared at the pattern. He knew about
humans, had studied them for years. The
way the lines were organised, they could almost be part of a street plan. "This is in this city?"
"Yes. Remember it. I cannot-"
"I need
more. I need her home."
The older
creature sighed and closed his eyes. He
began to chant again, more faintly now and under his breath. For just a second, half of one of the blocks
glowed brightly. "Remember,"
the creature whispered. And then the
whole pattern vanished and the creature slumped to the ground.
Dala shut the
door, locked it and, for good measure, shoved a chair under the handle. Then she focused on the daunting task ahead
of her. The water was boiling over the
fire, the materials were all assembled.
She rolled her sleeves up and fastened them in place with bangles. The kettle was lifted onto the fire and
emptied into the tub, and an equal amount of cold water was added. Then she started working through the
enormous pile of washing up.
The Ossasi
family were technically middle class; 'comfortable,' although that wasn't
always Dala's chosen phrase. Her father
was a middle manager at one of the city's vast trading concerns and brought
home a reasonable wage. Unfortunately
her mother, like all respectable married women in East Zabrial, was discouraged
from taking paid work. She compensated,
as far as Dala could tell, by bearing an immense number of children. She had brought ten into the world to date,
of which seven were still alive and six were still at home. The sheer volume put a strain on everything
– space, time, resources, tempers. The
Ossasis could only afford to employ two servants, Mrs Ossasi was usually unwell
or in confinement and the bulk of the tasks were spread down the
generations. Dala was the second
oldest. For a long time she thought
that was a uniquely unfortunate position – old enough to be put upon without
garnering any special attention or privileges – until last year when her big
sister got married and left home. Now
she had learned what the eldest was forced to do.
She didn't
mind, however. Not truly. Providing her conditions were met – most
revolving around the supply of that elusive resource called privacy – she could
endure it. Plate after plate was
immersed in the soapy water, scrubbed clean and untidily stacked beside the
sink. If the endlessly shifting
complexities of the household had created a situation whereby she, despite
having a huge stack of homework waiting, was the only one who could possibly do
the washing up, it could be borne.
After all, such tasks did give her time to think. And she could once again play a game called
resisting temptation.
Because there
was no need for her to go through this laborious process. She could have boiled the water in a second
rather than spending the long minutes lighting the fire – but there was no need
for water either. With a little
concentration, she could have cleaned the pots in an instant. She could have dried them and stacked them
away, and for an encore cleaned the house from top to bottom, placed mound upon
mound of delicious food on her family's table and probably written her history
essay too. They did not have to live in
this cramped, slightly decayed house either.
She could create for them a mansion, a palace, ten palaces. In an second.
Instead she
continued to scrub the plates. Because
those who dismissed Dala as a vacuous dreamer – and there were many who did –
were only seeing what she cared to show them.
She didn't fully understand her powers, it is true. She was unaware of all the many technical
terms for them beyond the simplest of all: magic. She had, however, read enough and learned enough to know that
nobody can wish anything into existence without consequences.
There were
many possible ones but the most pertinent for Dala was the risk of the Academy
of Magic detecting her. This great
institution tries to control magic all across the continent of Teraf. It has spies everywhere – especially in an
eclectic city like East Zabrial. It
demands that all those born with magical powers – the so-called Gift of the
Gods – travel to its base in northern Erenland, hundreds of miles from East
Zabrial, and submit to its decade-long training programme. What the Academy and its enforcers, the
'recruiters,' do to those who disobey them does not bear thinking about. On sleepless nights Dala did think about ,
because she had no intention of complying with Academy rules. Erenland was alleged to be the dreariest
place on earth, wizards were said to emerge from their training with all traces
of humanity bled out of them; and besides, she could not leave her friends, her
family, her future behind. She wasn't
going to let a few powers map out her entire life. If she could control them – and she was almost certain that she
could then nobody need know any different.
She had told Minyanis about them because she told Minyanis about
everything. Her family, the rest of her
neighbourhood; they had a few strange incidents over the years to puzzle over
when matters slipped a little out of hand but no inkling of what Dala was. It was working. She was almost sure it was working.
Sometimes,
though, she wondered if her powers had charted her course anyway. They had been with her for as long as she
could remember, but she first became truly aware of what they constituted when
she was ten. Ever since then she had
been secretive, withdrawn, always giving the impression of holding something in
reserve. Her teachers all found her
intelligent but somehow difficult to engage, never wholly there at lessons. Half considered her a challenge, the others
just concluded she was lazy. Her
headmistress, Dala knew, had noticed how swirls of trouble tended to follow her
and kept a suspicious eye on her. And
Dala also aware of her habit of drifting through life as if it were of only
marginal importance. She had also heard
rumours of what properly trained wizards could do; summon up demons and
elementals, open portals to strange knew dimensions. Sometimes her world would grow almost too flat or exasperating to
bear and she wondered if it might be worth it.
Her reverie
was interrupted by the sound of a furious argument from outside. One, no two female voices and one male; one
was her mother and another was… Dala sighed and began drying her hands. Yes, it might just be worth it. Anything else seemed worth the price on
occasions, so long as it would get her out of East Zabrial. She unsealed the kitchen and stormed towards
the front door.
Her mother was
stood on the threshold, holding her youngest child who was just starting to
wail with all the noise. Liberally
exchanging insults with the lady, being barred from entry by her ample figure,
was Ellik. A youth slightly older than
Dala, she had once thought his slim build, very dark features and floppy mane
of black hair made him appear enticingly mysterious. Several months later she thought he looked hateful; and now,
twitching with impotent anger, he just seemed laughable.
"Dala!"
he cried, spying her appearing around her mother. His face instantly lit up hopefully. "Dala, I've got to talk to you-"
"For
Narlan's sake, Ellik," she snapped back.
To her amazement she noticed Kristin standing just behind Ellik. The elder woman was hovering uncertainly, as
if debating whether to intervene in the scene.
Dala turned her attention back to Ellik. "Do you not get how this works? I've finished with you.
Therefore, we don't see each other again. What part don't you understand?"
"Dala, I
wasn't sure what to do," Mrs Ossasi said anxiously. "I know you said you didn't want to see
him but he is your boyfriend-"
"Was,
mum. As in, past tense."
"Look
Dala, I'm sorry, all right? I know I
made a mistake. But I want us back
together again-"
"Well,
big whoop. The point being, and I hope
you're following this, that I don't. Not
now, not tomorrow, and though you might stand a chance when the sun falls into
the sea, I really wouldn't-"
"You
can't fucking treat me like this!" Ellik suddenly screamed, and seemed to
be about to leap forward. Abruptly,
though, he stopped. Kristin had laid
one hand on his shoulder and took hold of his arm with the other. Ellik squirmed in the grip but it appeared
to be unbreakable.
"All
right, sonny," Kristin said calmly as she manoeuvred the struggling boy
away. "Let's just take a few
breaths and calm down, yes?"
"Get the
hell off me! I'll-" A hard shove from Kristin sent him
floundering several steps across the courtyard. He wheeled round, face furious and ready to spring. One look at Kristin tensed form convinced
him otherwise. "You can't treat me
like this you whore!" he yelled instead at Dala. Her only response was to roll her eyes. "I'll tell everyone what you're like. I'll-"
And then two steps forward from Kristin sent him skipping fearfully
away.
"Oh,
please," Dala said when he had gone.
"Mum, if I ever start falling for someone like that ever again,
could you please lock me in the cellar?"
"Dala
darling, you always fall for boys like that."
"Way to
go, Kristin," Dala called out as the docker approached, looking bashful
again. "As smart a piece of
bouncing as I've seen."
"Yes,
thank you… Kristin was it?" Mrs Ossasi said nervously, jiggling her
howling baby in her arms. "Can you
excuse me please? I'd better put him to
bed. This has been a bit… Dala…"
"I
know. sorry. My mum," she announced when the lady had hurried
indoors. "She's a bit highly
strung. Which is no surprise. That's her tenth she's carrying and there's
another one on the day. We learned at
school where babies come from but I'm not convinced in her case. I think she must have a machine in the attic
where she churns 'em out."
Kristin leaned
against the door frame, shielding her eyes against the sun. "I don't think she likes me."
"She
doesn't actually dislike anyone. You
threw her, that's all. She's a firm
view on a woman's role in life and none of it involves turfing boys out by the
scruff of their ears. Thanks again for
that, by the way."
Kristin
grunted her acknowledgement. "If
you don't mind me saying… weren't you a bit hard on him?"
"Let's
see now. I was going out with Ellik for
three months. The other week I found
out he was also going out with someone else, a girl I happened to think was my
friend, for two of those months. And
for a couple of weeks he managed the difficult but commendable feat of cheating
on both of us. I think a touch of
flinty-hearted disdain is only seemly, don't you?"
"Shit." Kristin looked at her with concern but Dala
was gazing into the distance with her slightly expression. "Sorry. Are you all right about it?"
"Oh, I've
had the usual anguish, self-loathing, loneliness… Pretty much worked through
them all though. Well, sort of. I guess I'll be fine in time. You're probably right though. I shouldn't wind him up like that. You might not be around to rescue me next
time."
"You'll
probably be OK. With all those
self-defence classes and everything."
Dala snapped
her attention back. She gave Kristin a
slightly suspicious glance but failed to detect anything. "Oh yes. Them. Not that I'm
complaining but how did you manage to show up anyway? Do you live around here?"
"Sort of
near here," the Kakranfan said vaguely.
"I just came to see Minyanis."
"Oh,
right. Cool. I'll come across with you if that's OK. She'll want a full account of what's just happened. A girl who likes keeping up with
neighbourhood gossip, Min."
"So
what've we got?" Jed asked.
"A fire which showed every sign of preparing to gut Alstace Avenue
like a fish suddenly went out for no good reason. That was two years ago. A
couple of years earlier, the typhoid epidemic sweeping through the city did a
mighty suspicious detour around the whole neighbourhood. Year before that, a boy run over by a cart
in Cantini Way who weren't expected to live made an amazing recovery. After being held in the arms of a young girl
who lives locally. Same girl, far as
anyone can tell, who was seen striding towards the fire just before it went
out. Same girl seen who, a good while
ago, was seen near a building which miraculously didn't collapse till all the
family living in it got out. Same girl
who's a friend of, whoosit, that Ellniss lass.
Minyanis something. Who was
nearly beaten up by a bunch of street kids last year, only to be rescued by a
bright flash of light not unlike the one that blinded our rapists. The rapists whose sort-of description sort
of matches that girl again."
"Dala
Ossasi," Syran said quietly.
"Ladies
an' gentlemen, we have a winner," Jed nodded, lazily stretching his
legs. They were sat at a table outside
Jed's tavern, enjoying the early evening sunshine and watching the busy flow of
Lelgar Street. "Probably," he
added.
"Are any
of the neighbours suspicious?"
"What
of? Unless you're looking for summit,
there's now to see. It's just a bunch
of stuff that's happened over a long stretch of time. An' our girl always happening to be nearby. Some think it's a bit weird but, hey, that's
what you get living in this city."
"She's
been careful then."
"Oh
aye," Jed smiled. "An all the
weird stuff's happened for the better, not the worst. Average wizard first gets their powers, they get up to all kinds
of stuff. Good, bad or just plain
silly, owt that'd let them test what they've suddenly got. All kinds of hell goes on. This one only ever helped people, even when
she was pretty young. That's one thing
the Elmii told me to watch out for."
Syran sipped
his drink, a strong peppermint flavoured liquor. "And did anyone find it suspicious that you were
interrogating them about neighbourhood history?"
"Naw. I gave a cover story. Said I was working for the Academy. Investing a dangerous build-up of background
magic which might be behind all these odd events they've been having."
After a while,
Syran carefully said, "I see. Tat
was an interesting and possibly suicidal approach."
"Got 'em
talking though. Soon as they realised
there was someone they could blame i.e. me, there was no holding 'em back. Besides, I was pretty much a marked man
whatever I said wasn't I?" He
sighed theatrically. "Wonderful
city this. You welcome Nisans, Erish,
Elves, Dwarves, Kakranfans an' pixies with open arms. You happily rent rooms to trolls – sorry, oolags. You don't even have that much problem with
wizards. But anyone who looks a little
bit Dorlafan, boy he'd better watch his step."
Syran surveyed
his companion, wondering how the pale brown skin, lank brown hair, green eyes,
open and garrulously mouth and impeccably flat Triple Cities accent could
possibly be construed as 'a little bit' Dorlafan. "Oh, all right Mr Gruspoth," Jed called out cheerfully.
The figure
addressed stopped by the door and gave a shy wave. He was barely more than four feet tall and almost as broad. His curiously gnarled face was dominated by
an immense nose, which reared out many inches and then dropped down almost as far
as his broad mouth. A pointed chin,
pale green skin and almost perfectly round red eyes completed the outlandish
appearance. The rest of his body may
have been equally transfixing but it was wrapped in a black, baggy hooded suit.
"Good
afternoon Mr Colac," the creature said.
He had an appropriately nasal accent but spoke meticulously and
formally. "I hope you are
well."
"Just
terrible, thanks for asking. Mind you,
you're spot on about the oolags," Jed told Syran after Mr Gruspoth had
gone indoors. "Good family that,
once you get to know 'em. They've lent
me their mangle. An' speaking of vital
pieces of equipment, I don't suppose you've got the scriving mirrors working
yet?"
"I
have."
"Yeah? So did you contact the Elmii?"
"Last
night. They advised you to trust your
judgement."
"And?"
"That's
it. The message was completed. That's all there was. Trust your judgement."
Jed stared
into space for a while with strange expressions flitting across his face. Eventually he lightly remarked, "You
know that us Dorlafans have a reputation for letting off long, elaborately
sarcastic tirades on the slightest excuse."
"Yes."
"Yet,
despite being offered the severest provocation, I'm saying nowt. You notice that?"
"Yes."
"I just
wanted it recorded. OK, here's one part
of my judgement. There's a big
Kakranfan piece hanging around our girl an' she's making me nervous."
"I've
seen her too. I don't know who she
is."
"I've got
my suspicions. You still got your key
to the Academy's East Zabrial base?"
Syran frowned. "I've still got a friend there-"
"That's
what I meant. Have a talk with
him. See if they've got any Kakranfans
on the retinue. By tonight if you
can." Syran looked at him in
surprise. "I mean it. I'm fed up with faffing around. If the Elmii wanted a considered, thoughtful
job doing, they should have hired something better than me an' my bloody
judgement."
"Dala! You up there, Dala?"
Dala rolled
across her bed and peered out of her bedroom window. "Oh, good," she muttered.
"Who is
it?" Minyanis asked, slumped into an old chair with a folder balanced on
her lap.
"Well,
let's see now. It couldn't possibly be
Ellik 'turn over a new chapter and start life afresh I don't think' Acci could
it?" She moved a little way away
from the windows but continued peering around the curtains. "Time for round two it seems."
"Maybe if
we ignore him he'll go away?"
They waited a
few minutes. Cries of "Dala!"
continued to bellow up from the street.
"OK," their target remarked.
"Nice idea in theory, Min, but it seems-" She abruptly flung the window open. "Ellik!" she screamed down at the
young man stood just beneath it.
"Go home!"
"Not till
I've had my say, Dala," he flung furiously up. Dala noticed other windows in the courtyard opening and censorious
faces peering out into the courtyard.
"You listen to me. We're
through, you got that?"
"What
does he want?" Minyanis asked nervously.
"Apparently
he's packing me."
"But
haven't you already..?"
"Ellik, I
know we're through. I keep trying to tell you that. I'm the one who
packed you, remember?"
"Yeah,
well, there's no fucking going back now.
I've had it with you. And tell
your big dyke friend to leave me alone as well."
Dala watched
him storm off. "Well," she
said neutrally, "That was bracing.
And that's the 'mindless abuse' section of the evening taken care
of. What shall we do now?"
"Call me
Miss Unorginality," was Minyanis' cautious response. "But as this is a study evening,
possibly we could try a little… studying?"
Dala picked
her books up and tried reapplying herself to Christotan History 1000-50. It was hard, though. Almost uniquely, her house was otherwise
deserted. It was the night of their
monthly visit to her grandmother's house on the other side of East Zabrial, an
excursion which involved the whole sprawling family being picked up and
deposited in a great clump. For once
Dala had talked her way out of it, pleading upcoming exams. The exams were real but she found
concentration even more difficult than usual.
All around her, where the house usually stirred with dozens of
conversations, arguments, wails, collisions and footsteps well into the night,
there was only silence. She found it a
little unsettling; above all else, though, it was liberating. The house was hers and it seemed a shame to
confine herself to one small part of it like always.
"I'm
going to fry something," she announced suddenly, tossing her book
aside. "Coming?"
"What are
you going to-"
"Depends
what I find. come on, just ten minutes
frying break. We'll return to the books
replenished and sloshing with strengthening fat. Do you suppose he meant Kristin?" she asked as she poked
around a half-lit kitchen.
"Who?"
"Ellik. He said he was being hassled by 'a big
dyke,' to use his charming phrase, and it was my fault. I wondered if he meant Kristin." She found two half-fishes in the larder,
sniffed them suspiciously, shrugged and began heating the fat.
"I wonder
say…" Minyanis shifted uneasily.
"That is, I wouldn't necessarily say that Kristin's a…"
"I know. I'm not saying she is. But if you've got a mentality like Ellik's,
you'd assume she was." Dala threw
the fish into the pan and added lightly, "And if it is her, that's maybe a
bit strange. Has she been to see him
after the day she threw him out? If so,
why?"
"It might
not be-"
"You
might be right. But something strange
is going on, Min. There was your big
fancy-man hanging around for a while.
And then that Dorlafan who said he was from the Academy, asking
questions about me."
"He
wasn't asking about you, Dala."
"Just
about all the things I'd done, right?"
"But we
don't-" Minyanis broke off, sharply turning her head. "Did you just hear something?"
Dala laughed
nervously. "Stop trying to scare
me, Min. Right now it's all too
easy."
"No, I'm
serious. Something… outside." She slowly moved towards the back door,
which led directly to the yard outside.
Dala lifted the frying pan off the flames and stared at the door.
"It'll be
a cat. Won't it?"
"Oh,
sure. Of course it'll be a cat. A lovely, fluffy stray cat. And we'll let it in and make friends with it
and give it our fish, because I for one have lost my appetite." Minyanis' voice had grown high and brittle. She reached the door and took hold of the
handle.
"Min,
this kitchen's full of knives. Do you
not want-" but then Minyanis flung the door open.
The yard was
intensely dark; night descends quickly in East Zabrial. It was also, apparently, empty. Minyanis gave a long, hysterical giggle.
"Not even
a cat," she trilled, turning back.
"I guess it must have been the non-existent wind knocking over one
of your non-existent flower pots."
Dala was
already kicking over the embers of the fire.
"All right. I've been
creeped out enough for one evening. How
about we go over to your place to get bothered to hell by your mother, pestered
by your brother and-"
"I was
just thinking the same thing."
Without looking back round, Minyanis tried to swing the door shut. Just before closing, though, it hit
something. She turned and saw that a
boot had been inserted in the crack. A
second later the door was wrenched open.
Jed Colac stood in the doorway.
Both girls
screamed. Minyanis ran towards Dala as
Jed advanced several steps into the kitchen.
He winced at the noise they made and began waving his hands frantically.
"Look,
just bloody calm down will you?" he shouted, trying to make himself heard
over the screams. "It's all right,
I'm not going to hurt you, I'm on your side.
Just listen to me."
Clinging tightly to each other, the girls fell silent and watched the
intruder with petrified eyes.
"I've been sent to protect you, all right?" Jed continued
urgently. "And I'm sorry about
barging in an' scaring you to death but I had to move quickly an' quietly
because you're in danger. An' I'm also
sorry about the way I look. I know I
ain't exactly a reassuring figure.
Believe me, it weren't supposed to be like this. You were supposed to be prepared from birth
an' there'd always be someone watching out for you. An' there'd be some great ceremony when you turned sixteen when
you'd get given some bloody great golden key or summit, an' basically there'd
be the works." His address was
directed at Dala. While it went on, she
very slowly detached herself from Minyanis and reached the stove. "Least, that was how the all-knowing,
all-powerful blokes I work for planned it," an oblivious Jed went on. "Only a few months back they announced,
whoops, we got our bloody sums wrong, the girl got herself born twenty years
before she thought she would. So I get
packed onto a very quick horse and the ceremony pretty much amounts to
this." He cleared his throat. "Dala Ossasi? You-"
At that point
Dala threw the frying pan at him. Jed
flung himself to one side and collided heavily with a work unit. Dala was already turning and running for the
other door, dragging Minyanis with her.
They scrambled through it and slammed it shut as a Jed lurched after them. The girls scampered desperately through the
darkened hallways, knocking into doors and tables. Behind them they could hear the echo of Jed's heavy
footsteps. After what seemed like an
eternity, they saw the glass pane of the front door gleaming in front of
them. And then that burst open and
Syran's bulk stood in front of them.
Minyanis
screamed again. Dala was already
dragging them through a doorway to their left.
It brought them into the sitting room, which was illuminated by a single
hanging lantern. Minyanis shut the door
and leaned on it until Dala pushed a couch in front of it. Shaking, they took a few steps back and
waited. The first assault scraped the
couch half a foot across the floor.
Minyanis was already scanning the room but they had blockaded the only
door out.
"The
windows! Quick!" she urged, but
Dala, still staring at the door, shook her head.
"They
don't open. Father thought that'd be
more, ha, security conscious."
The door was
pushed inexorably open. Jed spilled
into the room, shouting "Wait there," over his shoulder to
Syran. The girls shrank back into one
corner as he advanced on them.
"Whatever
it is you don't want us to do, we'll stop doing it," Minyanis
pleaded. "And take whatever you
want, only not us as hostages, because our families really aren't all that
rich-"
"For the
last time, I'm not here to hurt you.
Just calm down a minute an' I'll explain…" He stared at Dala, who
had begun reciting a stream of strange words under her breath. "An' you might as well stop that an'
all. It won't do any good. If you'd just-"
Dala's voice
grew to a shriek. Chanting the last few
words, she dramatically gesticulated at Jed.
There was just the tiniest glitter of light around her fingertip; and
then it died away. Dala's mouth dropped
open. She stared in disbelief at her
finger, utterly at a loss as to what had happened. Even when Minyanis began frantically tugging at her sleeve she
continued gaping idiotically down.
"Dala! Oh Gods, Dala, he's got a – You've got a
neutraliser haven't you?" Minyanis accused Jed.
"Well,
yeah. But don't-"
"Dala,
you know the only people who've got neutralisers. Recruiters! He's a
recruiter for the Academy."
Dala finally
looked up at Jed. "Is that
true?" she asked flatly. "Are
you with the Academy?"
"No!"
Jed protested, then paused. "Well,
yes and no. It's sort of complicated-"
"You're
not taking me back there. Do what you
want with me but I'm not going-"
"I never
even wanted to take you to the Academy's bloody campus. Will you two just listen to me. Ye gods, they say us Dorlafans are gabby but
you two-"
Two noises from
the doorway made them all turn. With
one solid thump Syran had been knocked on the back of the head, and with
another he hit the floor unconscious.
Standing in his place was Kristin.
She held a loaded crossbow and was pointing it at Jed.
"Put your
hands up," she ordered. "Move
away from them."
He obeyed very
slowly and carefully, not taking his eyes off her. The two girls fled to the sanctity of the Kakranfan woman.
"Are you
OK?" she asked, then without waiting for a reply told Jed, "Picked
the wrong target this time."
"Weren't
me who picked it," he answered grimly.
"Oh
yes? You're just a servant of your
masters I suppose."
"You and
me both, I'm guessing."
"It's not
good enough."
Dala and
Minyanis exchanged glances. Their
relief at their rescue was quickly being replaced by a new, different kind of
horror. Kristin's attitude was strange
and she seemed to be rushing towards one course…
"Er,
Kristin," Minyanis ventured meekly.
"Maybe now's the time when we start throwing him out and locking
doors..?"
"There'll
be other agents. But I suppose one less
won't hurt," Kristin said, apparently to herself, and Jed continued
staring at her.
"Actually,
right now there's pretty much only me," he said.
"That'll
make it easier then."
"Or were
you talking about yourself?"
Again Dala and
Minyanis looked at one another, mutely sharing the same though. When Dala turned back to Kristin, she saw
her finger tightening on the crossbow trigger.
"No!"
she screamed, leaping at Kristin. She
collided into her the very second the crossbow fired. The bolt whistled through the air, missed Jed by several feet and
buried itself into the far wall. Jed
instantly rushed forward; Kristin cursed and pushed Dala aside. As Jed sprung at her she swung the crossbow,
catching him in the face with the weapon's heavy crosspiece. The Dorlafan collapsed backwards, rolled
twice on the ground and lay still.
Kristin glared at him briefly, then turned on Dala.
"You
stupid- what are you doing?"
"Kristin,
you can't just shoot someone in cold blood," Dala returned with equal
heat. "That's not done, OK?"
"You know
what he'd do to you? You can't show these people any people. I was trying to protect you."
"I don't
need anyone protecting me that way."
"Er, I'm
kind of on Dala's side here," Minyanis interrupted. "But I'm really of the school which
says we get out of here now."
Kristin took
another look around the room. Both men
were still apparently unconscious.
"All right," she breathed.
"But follow me and do what I say from now on. And we might just get through this."
She led them
out of the house and out of their neighbourhood. Soon they were both badly lost.
By day they might have recognised the streets around them, but they were
discouraged from visiting them by night and they could now see why. They were heading towards the docks and the
whole city seemed alive with danger.
Groups of drinkers staggered from one dingy tavern to the next,
felonious looking street vendors lurked behind their braziers and prostitutes
stridently touted for business on the corners.
Here and there a heavily shrouded figure would stalk, intent on some
sinister purpose of his own.
Unconsciously both girls huddled closer to Kristin, who was striding
boldly down the pavement and grimly ignoring the lewd remarks flung at them.
"Er,
Kristin?" Minyanis asked as they entered yet another ill-lit, foreboding
lane. "Where are we going?"
"My
place. It's not much further now."
"Erm. Wouldn't it be an idea to kind of tell the
Guards? I'm only thinking about those
two men lying in Dala's house and when Dala's family might-"
"I'll
deal with that later. Your family's not
at risk," she told Dala.
"Only you are. The
priority's to get you safe."
"On that
note," Dala said in a shaky voice, "I know I'm Miss Jumpy Queen right
now, but I can't help feeling we're being followed."
They all
looked around, saw nothing but increased their pace nonetheless. "Sort of footsteps just behind us,
stopping when we do," Dala continued, perhaps unnecessarily.
"Oh,
wouldn't it have been nice if just one of us thought to tie those men up?"
Minyanis trilled.
"Not much
further now," Kristin repeated.
She turned them right into an almost pitch-black alley. "Watch your
footing here," her voice warned as they proceeded cautiously. "I'm at the end." After a mercifully short distance, a looming
black tenement reared up in front of them.
Kristin produced a bunch of keys and fumbled one into the lock. "I'm on the ground floor," she
said as they shepherded them into a dark hallway. "Wait here a second.
I'll just-"
She turned and
took a few steps away from the door.
The girls lost sight of her. A
second later came the sound of running feet and a strange, scuffling noise. Then silence descended again. Too terrified to even move, to even breathe,
the girls strained their eyes peering into the consuming night. The tension became unbearable. Then a black shape, just visible amidst the
monochrome patterns, appeared in the doorway.
The door slammed shut. From the
shape came several sharp, rasping sounds and a too-brief splutter of light.
"Kristin?"
Dala finally found the courage to ask, and then only in a whisper.
The light
flared again. This time the tinderbox
taper caught and was pushed against a candle wick. But the figure holding it was not Kristin; it was Jed.
"Now just
listen to me this time," he shouted, while the girls froze in shock. "An' try an' take this in. I ain't here to hurt you or do owt to you. I'm here to help you. I ain't with the Academy, least not the
Academy how you understand it. And I'm
not, I repeat not, a bloody recruiter.
I've just got a neutraliser 'cause of the work I do, but that's not
recruiting."
"What
have you done with Kristin?" Dala demanded. A little of her terror had left her and anger was taking its
place.
"Just put
her out of-" The door shuddered to
a sudden buffet. "Ah, that'll be
her now. Shame these doors can be
bolted as well as locked. An' it's
funny you mentioning her straight after I mentioned recruiters 'cause that's
another thing I've got to tell you. She
damn well is one. I did checks an'
everything."
"Wh-"
Dala gaped at him. "Have you lost
your mind? Kristin's our friend.
Min, she's your friend, tell him."
"She made
herself your friend maybe. That's the
way they work sometimes."
"Shut up! Min?"
"Oh
Gods," Minyanis whispered in horror.
"He could actually be right.
Kristin did befriend me first.
And she did seem awfully interested in, well, you, and kept hanging
around here. And she seemed awfully
keen to shoot this man in cold blood."
"Thanks
for the intervention, by the way," Jed interjected and Dala whirled back
on him.
"And
every time you but in, I ask myself why I bothered."
"You know
why," he told her calmly.
"You couldn't just stand by and watch someone get killed. No-one normal could, specially not you. But a recruiter could an' they'd do it
themsens if someone got in their way.
Summit in their training. Or their
water, whatever. Look, if you still
don't believe me…" He reached over
his head and pulled off a pendant hanging around his neck. It was a small metal droplet glowing a dim,
slightly disturbing light. Jed ran his
hand over it, spoke a word and the glow died.
"OK, this is my neutraliser.
An' I've just deactivated it."
He tossed it to Minyanis and quickly warned Dala, "Don't you touch
it. Even when it's switched off-"
Dala continued
to glare at him. "Oh, so I'm just
supposed to believe-"
"Ye Gods,
what is it with you girls. Healthy
suspicions are fine but sooner or later you're gonna have to trust someone, an'
that someone's me. Otherwise this is
gonna get a lot worst."
"Dala, I
think he's telling the truth," Minyanis said urgently, examining the
droplet. "I know a bit about
neutralisers and this looks
deactivated."
Dala turned to
her. "How on earth do you know
about-"
"Don't
look so surprised. I do have depths you
know." After an uneasy moment she
amended, "All right, I have unhealthy obsessions. Be that as it may, this looks right."
"All
right," Dala said to Jed. "So
what?"
"Only
recruiters have these gizmos, right? As
a rule. So get your mate Kristin in
here, try an' cast a spell an' see what happens. Then ask her what she might have tucked away."
Dala continued
staring at him for another second. Then
several things happened in quick succession.
The hinges of the front door finally gave way. Kristin hauled the shattered door out of her path and took
several steps into the hallway. As Jed
turned and skipped back, a shadow seemed to loom up behind the Kakranfan
woman. Then a grey, robed shape flung itself
out of the darkness and landed on her, pulling her to the ground. Another appeared in the doorway. t pushed its hood back and a green-skinned
face peered in.
Jed swore and
scrambled further back, putting his body between the creature and the two girls. Behind him, Dala stretched out her arm and
screamed a few words. Again, though,
there was just a brief glitter which died inches from her fingertips. The creature spoke some foreign, guttural
words of its own over its shoulder and advanced. Another appeared in its wake.
A crash behind them made the human trio turn. Three more of the creatures were rushing up the hall towards
them, their robes flapping as they ran.
With a muffled
thump Kristin freed herself from her assailant, leaving it sprawled motionless
on the ground. She sprang to her feet
and dived towards a closed inner door.
There were a few agonising seconds as she fumbled for the key, then the
door swung open.
"In! Quick!" she screamed. Jed pushed the two girls into the dark room
beyond. As the first of the creatures
sprang at him he lashed out a boot, catching it in the chest and sending it
sprawling back. Then he dived in
himself, slammed the door shut and leant on it.
"Lock
it," Kristin breathed, pushing the key into his hands.
"Where
are we?" Dala's terrified voice whispered through the blackness.
"My
flat. I'll just…" A match flared and Kristin lit a lantern,
holding it in slightly shaking hands.
It illuminated a small, spartan room.
"I don't think that door'll hold long." The first assault on it almost broke it
completely and came close to knocking Jed over.
"Thanks
for the tip, lass," he muttered.
"What-
what were those things?" Dala breathed.
"Orcs,"
Jed and Kristin said together. Jed
continued alone. "An' you want to
know what they're after, my guess is you."
"What? They're after me as well?"
"Popular
girl ain't you? What have you got
left?" he asked Kristin.
"Sword. I dropped my crossbow."
"I've got
a dagger in me boot. I'm guessing our
mates have got swords at least."
At that moment a blade plunged through the door, the tip sticking out
about an inch from Jed's head. It
stayed there for a moment before withdrawing.
"They've got swords," he confirmed.
Kristin looked
around wildly. "The window,"
she ordered. She took a single step
towards it before the pane shattered and a green-skinned face peeked in with a
grunt. Kristin didn't hesitate. She picked up the heavy mattress which lay
in the centre of the room and flung it over the window.
"Guess
they thought of the window," Jed said.
"I don't
understand," Kristin panted as she leant on the mattress. "Orc don't… don't attack houses. Not like this. Not down here.
It's…"
"Can't we
talked to them?" That was
Minyanis' falsetto voice. "Isn't
there-"
"Bloody
hell, don't any of you understand what's going on?" Jed yelled. "They do attack houses now an' we can't
talk to them. 'Cause they want
Dala. You got that? They want Dala an' they ain't going away
till they've got her. An' any of you
ask what they want her for an' I'm gonna lose it. Now listen to me an' you, Kakranfan, listen especially
carefully. There's at least five of
them an' two of us who can fight.
They're armed to the teeth an' we're pretty much armed with our teeth. The one person who can get us out of this is
Dala. But she can't do a thing while
you've got your damn neutraliser switched on."
"No,"
Kristin said instantly. "Not a
chance."
"How's
your mattress holding up. My door's
pretty close to being matchsticks."
The mattress
was clearly being pushed from the other side of the window. But Kristin held it in place with all her
strength and still shook her head.
"No way. Under no
circumstances can we-"
"Are you
not listening to me? This ain't summit
covered in your damn recruiters manual.
This ain't summit you've ever dealt with before. An' unless that neutraliser goes off, a lot
more lives'll be lost than the four in here."
Dala took a
step forward. "I…" she began
uncertainly. "I'm not sure I'd
know what to do even if-"
"Don't
start with me. You know exactly what to
do, how far to go an' when to stop.
It's in your bones, lass."
"Who are you anyway?" Kristin snapped at
Jed. "Why have you got the
answers."
"'Cause
I'm the one trained to deal with this, OK?
An' I know this ain't one case where, if you've got a choice between a
dead wizard an' a rogue wizard, you can shrug an' choose the dead wizard. This is a damn sight more serious."
Kristin stared
at him a moment longer. Then she looked
at Dala. At first she saw an ordinary
teenage girl; terrified, bedraggled, barely under control. But then she noticed something different
about her, a certainty in her poise perhaps, which made her hesitate. Then Dala turned towards her. Again, there was simple fear n her eyes and
a different message behind it. A
conviction which clearly stated: trust me.
"You even
know what's happening here?" Kristin asked the girl.
"No. But I think Jed's right. I know what to do about it."
Kristin
considered her a moment longer, then muttered, "Oh hell." And she reached into her tunic, produced a
droplet identical to the one Jed wore and deactivated it.
"Over to
you then," Jed nodded at Dala.
Another blow buffeted the door and he struggled to keep his balance.
"All
right." Dala closed her eyes for a
moment. She frowned and her voice was
still hesitant. "When I say 'now,'
get away from the door. I… I hope this
will…"
Minyanis took
her hand momentarily and gave her a quick smile. "It'll work. Go get
'em, Dala."
Dala smiled
back at her friend and tried to compose herself. "Ready?" she asked Jed, who nodded rather
desperately. "All right. Now!"
Jed dived sideways.
An instant later the door exploded inwards, knocked off its hinged and
crashing to the ground. In its wake a
squat, powerfully built orc floundered a couple of steps into the room. It glanced around, noticed Dala and took
another step towards her. Three more of
the creatures were directly behind it.
Then Dala screamed another string of strange words and swung her right
arm up to point at the orc. A bolt of
what looked like pure light flashed from her fingers. It hit the creature in the chest, picking it up and flinging it
through the air. The orc bowled over
its companions and did not stop until it hit the far wall of the hallway
outside. As one of the other orcs
started scrambling up, another bolt of light flashed inches over its head and
hit a wall, cracking the stonework. All
stared petrified at Dala. The girl was
utterly transformed. All fear and
uncertainty had left her; she was standing bolt upright, her eyes flashing and
her arm pointing menacingly. Still she
chanted in an unearthly voice which rose and fell as it emitted its strange
words. When she rose her hand again the
glow consumed it but was motionless, hanging ominously until its release. That was enough for the orcs who remained in
the room. They scrambled to their feet
and leapt out of the door, pausing only to pick up their comrade who still lay
barely conscious in the hall.
Dala turned
towards the window, the orb of light still covering her hand. Kristin dropped to the floor and the
mattress was instantly pushed down on top of her. For just a second, a green head looked in. Then the light roared silently from Dala and
caught the intruder directly in the face.
The head vanished. From outside
came the sound of rapid, receding footsteps.
Kristin and Jed got up and peered warily out of the window and door
respectively. The orcs had fled.
All eyes
turned irresistibly towards Dala. She
stood perfectly still, breathing heavily but otherwise apparently
composed. For a long time, though, she
was unable to meet anyone's gaze and stared at the floor with something
approaching shame on her face. Minyanis
opened her mouth to speak but nothing would come out. She simply looked awe-struck; Kristin was still very guarded but
Jed's expression was a strange mixture of reverence and caution. Finally Dala looked up. She turned from Jed to Kristin and said in a
shaking voice,
"My
name's Dala Ossasi. I'm fifteen years
old and I'm a wizard."
Jed coughed
and took a step towards her.
"Believe me, lass," he said.
"You're a damn sight more than that."
CHAPTER TWO
Capu Sergesta
looked like a wizard. There was very
little else which could be said about his appearance. He had a long grey beard, skin the texture of wrinkled
parchment, sunken, cunning eyes and fingers stained a multitude of unwholesome
colours. Just so there was absolutely
no confusion, he had a long frayed robe, a staff and beads tied into his
hair. The effect, in other words, came
off.
"Now
then, Miss Ossasi," he said, staring at Dala over steepled fingers. "Which aspects of your situation are
you still unclear about?"
Dala exchanged
a glance with Minyanis, who sat next to her.
"I think," Minyanis prompted, "This is one of those times
when you tell the truth no matter how it makes you look."
"You
sure?"
"Pretty
much."
"OK." Dala turned back to Capu. "Maybe we should start with sort of all
of it."
A faint smile
scuttled across the old wizard's face. "I
quite understand. It is a considerable
amount to take in. And I realise that
Mr Colac's account may have been rather lacking in some respects. He is an invaluable operative but his grasp
of the underlying-"
"Hey,
just talk about me like I ain't here," Jed called from one corner of the
room. Leant against a wall, he was
sporting a vivid bruise on one cheek.
"Oh, that's right…"
They were in
an elegant conference room in a gentrified area around Zabrial Town Hall, along
the southern stretch of the docks. The
murals on the walls were fresh and exquisite, the furniture was comfortable and
the view outside was a stunning panorama of Zabrial Bay. The room, and an equally refined bedroom and
study attached to it, had been leased by Capu Sergesta on his arrival in the
city two days ago, two weeks after the fight with the orcs. Jed had inquired why the need for secrecy
which saw him stuck in a fetid bedsit did not extend to his superior. The answer, in Jed's opinion, was rather
unconvincing.
"Actually,
Jed's account was pretty clear," Dala countered, and glared at the
man. "And all the better for
having been delivered about fifteen times a day. But, well, I guess those pesky underlyings are beating me as
well."
"Of
course." Capu gave another brief
smile across the large oak table.
"Then I will try to explain it as clearly as possible. Please feel free to interrupt me at any
point if you have any queries.
"I sit on
a council of wizards called the Elmii.
We are broadly under the auspices of the Academy of Magic, although not
strictly part of their hierarchy and not always covered by the
jurisdiction. The relationship is
quite… complicated. There are five of
us on the council. We also employ
non-wizards for specific purposes, gentlemen like Mr Colbic and his associate
Syran, whom I gather you have also 'met.'"
Minyanis
nudged Dala. "Did you hear
that?" she hissed excitedly.
"He can pronounce inverted commas."
"The
Elmii," Capu continued, "Have but one function. This is to find and protect the one we call
the Guardian. Each of us on the council
have spent many, many years studying this strange and mysterious topic. We also have at our disposal a considerable
volume of writings, for the Elmii as a body has existed for many
centuries. Of course, our knowledge
still has many gaps and discrepancies-"
"Fifteen
years, fifteen years," Jed chanted softly, but Capu ignored him.
"-But I
think we can justifiably consider us very learned on the subject of the
Guardian."
"OK,"
Dala said hesitantly. "All clear
so far. When it comes to the Guardian,
you are The Guys. Which brings us to
the real question-"
"What, of
course, is the Guardian?" Capu
paused for a second. "You are
aware, I trust, that there is more to this world than is immediately
perceivable. There are unseen energies
and forces which are consistently in a state of flux and interacting with one
another. Together they compose what is
commonly called life energy. This gives
breath and consciousness and the very stuff of being to every living
thing. The distribution of life energy
is complex and uneven. Some people are
granted a surfeit of it from birth and they are able to transform it into
magical energy. Wizards, in other
words, of with I am one." He
inclined his head modestly. "That
much is, I think, relatively simple.
Yet the whole situation is more complex. There are certain configurations, a precise ordering of the
patterns of energy…" The wizard paused again, frowning in thought. "I am afraid it is hard to precisely
explain it in layman's terms. Just as
the eddies of the energies are localised around small focal points, we wizards,
so the entire pattern is centred around a single point. Without it they would be… no, not destroyed,
but knocked so greatly out of alignment that the result would be chaos. That central point is the one we call the
Guardian.
"The
Guardian, or Guardians I should say, are human beings. There have, we are almost sure, been seven
to date in Teraf's history. There is
only ever one at any one time. They do
not exist concurrently – that is, there may be a gap of some quite considerable
time between the death of one and the birth of the next. Only when the patterns of energy reach a
particular phase is a new Guardian born.
Predicting when the next Guardian will appear, what form they will take,
is the most trying of all the Elmii's duties.
Whilst the Guardians are perfectly normal humans in most respects, they
have a magical aptitude quite beyond even the greatest of all ordinary
wizards. Casting spells is, however,
the least of the Guardian's functions.
For they exist to maintain the world as we know it, to prevent it being
tipped into cataclysmic anarchy. And as
I am sure has been made clear to you, you, Dala Ossasi, are the current
Guardian."
For a long
time Dala simply stared blankly at the old wizard. Then she rubbed her eyes and held a brief whispered conference
with Minyanis. Surfacing from it, she
demanded of Capu. "All right, I've
got a few questions if you don't mind.
Like, what in the name of Narlan was all that-"
"Dala,"
Minyanis warned. "Break down and
isolate, remember?"
"OK,
OK. All right then. Firstly, let me tell you a bit about
myself. I'm a fifteen year old girl you
wouldn't notice if you passed in the street.
My dad's a small cog in a very big machine, and the only one of my
ancestors with a claim to fame earned that by collecting a record number of
drunk and disorderly charges for a single year. My school teachers pretty much despair of me and my morals have
been compared, not favourably I might add, with an alley cat's."
"She's
got a lot of understated qualities though," Minyanis added loyally.
"I have
magical powers, I admit that. But all
that means is I've got magical powers.
My point is, you could throw a street in any street in East Zabrial with
an even chance of hitting a more likely saviour of the world, or whatever I
am."
"You have
to understand," Capu said tolerantly.
"Such details – parentage, academic achievements and so on – are of
peripheral importance to the fundamental-"
"I knew
you were going to say that. But there's
still a pretty yawning credibility gap here needing to be bridged."
"I quite
understand. "I must reiterate,
however, that the Elmii have spent many years in study to anticipate the likely
appearance of the next Guardian. Due to
the patterns of energy, this phenomenon can be predicted. Only to an extent, I admit. There was an unfortunate error made
regarding the dates, which meant that our first contact with you was not quite
as it should have been-"
"I do
like a man who understates well."
"But we
were certain that the next manifestation would be in East Zabrial, the southern
districts of East Zabrial to be exact, and would be in female form."
"Female form?"
"And Mr
Colac's field research has allowed us to identify you with precision. I will try to explain the key criteria. Tell me, how long have you been aware of
your magical aptitude?"
"I…"
Dala frowned uncertainly. "Well,
pretty much as long as I can remember."
"There
was no moment when you suddenly became of it?
When the 'magic rose,' as the process is commonly termed."
"Not that
I can remember. It's just always been
there as far back as I know. Right
alongside eating, walking and the rest."
"And when
you cast a spell? Do you feel in any
way weaker? Drained somehow? As if a little part of your body has leaked
away?"
"OK, this
is getting weird now. What am I
saying? Even weirder."