Prologue

The border of the Locked Lands


“This is the closest he has come, Taiga,” the stolen child murmured against his companion’s leafy ear.

“Aye, and the longest he’s lingered,” the aging dryad agreed. He cupped a palm over his eyes, shielding them from the sun’s glare. “Move over Kale,” he grumbled, nudging the boy with his elbow. “I have no desire to sit in your shadow.”

Sunlight danced across the water. It warmed the backs of the two who squatted by the marsh, their eyes following a man who paced the opposite bank. The man was peering across the expanse of water, seemingly in their direction. In fact his searching gaze passed over his observers several times, but he seemed to stare straight through them, as though he did not see them at all.

Twice, as Taiga and Kale looked on, the man came down to the water’s edge and hovered there, one leg poised as if to step in. But both times, he backed away and instead took up his restless walking. A dense layer of fog crept in from the plains and drifted across the swamp, weaving through the tangle of rotting mangroves.
The man shivered, hugging scrawny arms close to his chest. He waded through the thick white mass, coming down to the brink of the swamp once more, gnawing all the while on his thumbnail. The man stared up at the long-needled brambles that had snaked their cords through the mangrove branches and strangled them. He squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. Leaning forward, he skimmed one foot over the swamp’s oily surface. Brown sludge clung to his boot, globs of coagulated slime dripped from it. The man grimaced and shook it off. Then he crept further along the bank.

“Oh, for the sake of Feldar!,” Kale said, through gritted teeth. “He is so painfully slow, so uncertain. What does he see that we cannot?” Kale knelt down and briefly plunged his pale dreadlocks into the clear marsh water. He got up and shook out his dripping head, showering Taiga with droplets. “Why does he hesitate when he is so close, Taiga?”

Taiga eyed Kale with mild exasperation as he wiped the water from his face. “You know very well. His kin do not believe we exist,” he said in a crisp, matter-of-fact tone. “Hence, they cannot cross over to our side.”

“But it is absurd! To purge us and our magic from their memory, they themselves have conjured up barriers that are not real.” Kale shook his head with disgust. “And that is magic in itself.”

“Barriers we cannot see, but they are real enough,” Taiga corrected him. “Though you are right. It is magic, after a fashion. Powerful magic, for neither can we cross the marsh. Not until….” His voice trailed off as he thought better of finishing his sentence.

It was too late. Kale pounced on those two words. “Oh, Taiga!” His eyes widened “Do you really think, … could he be… the One?”

“Don’t speak foolishness.” Taiga clucked, his face hardening. He glanced around, as if he feared someone might be hiding in the reeds, listening. “There will be trouble enough if Xorse discovers that you are here, let alone that such talk has crossed our lips.”

“He could be the One who will be Tested.” Kale lifted his chin stubbornly. “He has persisted. This is his third attempt. He senses that there is something on our side.”

“Hush.” Taiga was no longer listening. “I hear something.” He tilted his head and listened, his eyes flickering. Then Taiga’s jaw went slack, his eyes seemed to grow flat and dull. “Surely not,” he muttered. “Not so soon! But I must make certain.”
He crossed to his willow and pressed an ear to its trunk. A rumble, faint but steady as a heartbeat, vibrated through the root system. A sound that drained the blood from Taiga’s brown face. He came quickly back to Kale, his face expressionless. “A pack of wild dogs,“ he said. “Listen to me. You must go to the caves and sound the alarm, so the children can be hidden in time.”

“But what about…?”

“I will stay here and watch. Go! Hurry boy!” Taiga turned his back on the boy, scanning the horizon for a glimpse of the jogging shapes that would soon cloud it. Without another word, Kale clambered up into Taiga’s willow. He crept out along a sturdy limb, where he crouched for a moment, poised on his flexed toes and fingertips. Suddenly Kale sprang out into space, his arms stretched out to grasp a branch in the next tree. And he was off, swinging easily through the branches towards the caves.

Taiga looked up as a flock of disturbed shwills burst from the trees like a shower of airborne blossoms. He watched them fly over the marsh and come to rest upon the boughs that fringed the opposite bank, where the man still faltered.

“You can do it. You can,” Taiga whispered, pleading for the man to hear. “Come to us.”

As though he had heard Taiga’s appeal, the man stepped abruptly into the swamp. He sank in to his knees. The movement disturbed pockets of sulphur from its depths; they surfaced and burst with gentle splutters around him.

“I can do it. I can. I can make it,” the man murmured. He looked up at the mangroves that hemmed him in, and saw that ravens thronged their branches. They stared down at him, their orange eyes unblinking. A cold worm of fear writhed deep in the man’s bowel. “Raaaghh,” he shouted, flapping his hands to shoo them. The birds scattered, but soon returned to settle on lower, closer branches.

“It will be alright. It will be alright,” the man chanted in a trembling voice; the very words Taiga‘s lips were forming. “There is an end to this. There is firm ground on the other side.” Focussing his gaze on the web of mangroves ahead, he began to wade through the swamp. A raven pounced. It lunged low and fast, and the man stumbled backwards. He fell heavily, his hands flailing. As he sat, gasping and slewing muck from his face, a slit-eyed head rose out of the water; a beady head whose wide mouth grinned at him curiously. The man struggled to get up, but two ravens swooped, beating him down. More eels emerged, turning their evil heads to watch the silent ferocity of the ravens. The man thrashed about blindly in the swamp, choking on its foul soup till it streamed from his nostrils. When he tried to stand, thorny brambles plucked at his clothes and tore his flesh. The eels smirked and moved closer.

Taiga saw the man struggling alone in the clear marsh water; and watched him finally crawl back onto the bank. As the man fled across the wetlands, screaming and beating himself about the head, the light in Taiga’s eyes faded, though he had hardly allowed himself to hope. He looked over his shoulder and glimpsed a swirl of dust in the distance; dust rising from the patter of stealthy paws. Then Taiga placed both palms on the willow and melted into his tree.
© 2006 by Shelly Taylor

1. The Letter

Same day, Malak

Only one member of the hunting party knew that an intruder crouched in the hollow of the ancient oak behind them. But he said nothing of it, nor did he glance in that direction. His eyes, and those of his nobles, followed the flight of a falcon that floated high above them, its wings fully extended, and its talons tucked up under its downy white chest.

“A truly magnificent sight, Excellency,” breathed one noble, the whisper ruffling his moustache.

Moving in a downward spiral, the falcon circled the group, slowing its pace, before coming to rest on the emperor’s gloved hand. It flapped its wings twice as if to shake the feathers into place, before folding them away and settling. The emperor murmured softly to his bird and stroked its white throat. His eyes scanned the ameythr meadows, which covered the valley’s floor like a lush mantle.

The company stood silently in the warm breeze, waiting for the bird’s quarry to be retrieved. A moment later, a boy trudged out of the valley towards them, clutching a limp pheasant. A sea of purple grass sighed and swayed around his waist, and he brushed his spare hand along its silken tips. His face was flushed, and grubby from wiping perspiration from it with dirty hands.

The moustached noble chuckled at the sight, and called out, “Did he take the dead rat without complaining this time, Callun? To my eye, the kill seems near intact.”

“Iodis made no complaint, sir.” The boy panted up to them, and placed the pheasant into a sack that was nearly full. After a long swig from his flask, he poured a sparing amount of water into his cupped palm, removed his cap, and dribbled it over his hot head. Then he grinned up at his master, patting the sack proudly.

“There Excellency, that makes five,” he said.

“Well!” said the Emperor, smiling around at the noblemen who had hunted with him that day. He tossed his mane of glossy black ringlets from his shoulders and repositioned a slender gold circlet upon them. His face was smooth, and although he had ruled the empire of Malak for as long as anyone could remember, he appeared to have only just reached manhood.

“It seems that Iodis has taken the lead. Again! ‘Tis a shame to end our contest, but alas the approach of night dictates!”

The answering chorus of groans was light-hearted. It had been a good day. Chuckling and joking with each other, the company began to pack up their gear. Several pageboys loaded the spare goats with sacks bulging with fresh game. Others prepared the falcons to be taken to the castle. The nobles of the emperor’s court adjusted their sporting finery, and hoisted themselves up onto their splendid goats. Although they appeared to be absorbed by their task and in exchanging mocking jibes with each other, from time to time their gaze would drift across to the Emperor, to see if he was observing them. They were to be disappointed.

He stood motionless, eyes dreamy and remote from the conversation around him. His arm was still outstretched to support his majestic gyr falcon, who gripped him firmly with yellow talons.

“Excellency?” His pageboy approached him respectfully, but without fear. “Shall I take Iodis for you?”

The Emperor blinked away his thoughts, his eyes immediately alert. “I will linger awhile and savour the evening air,” he said. “Return to the castle with the others, young Callun. If you are careful, you can ride my mount, for I will walk back with Iodis.”

Callun’s eyes lit up. “Thankyou, Excellency.”

Beaming, he gathered the remaining equipment quickly, in a hurry now to leave with the others. Once the cheerful company had departed, galloping through the heart of the forest towards the castle, the clearing grew silent in the twilight. The emperor and his falcon gazed out across the valley, their profiles dark against the glowing horizon. Only the unceasing whisper of the grasses, and the occasional chirrup of a cicada rehearsing its nighttime melody, interrupted the stillness.

Suddenly the Emperor’s perfect face rippled, like a pond into which a pebble had been dropped. Pale lumps, like wet clay emerged from the disturbed surface. The emperor stiffened, eyes squeezed tightly shut as though he knew what was coming next. A tremor shuddered through his body and involuntarily his hands balled into fists. He began muttering rapidly in a dialect his subjects would have found strange and terrifying. His nose, eyes and mouth swam around in his face, writhing and convulsing, twisted almost beyond recognition. And then just as suddenly, it was over. The shapeless lumps dissolved back into his flesh. Each squirming feature firmed into its familiar shape and place. The Emperor’s skin was pale and clammy from the effort. He did not open his eyes for a time. The only hint of what had taken place was the single drop of perspiration that soaked a bright green stain onto his white tunic.

When he spoke at last, the Emperor’s eyes, deep blue as a peacock’s feather, did not leave the horizon, and he murmured under his breath, as though to himself.
“It must be important information you bring Wiggo, that you come in person to deliver it.”

A muffled reply came from behind the oak. “Yes Great One. I have news of Gorguon, your brother. From Pendelethe.”
“And that is?”
“Everything proceeds according to plan. Gorguon’s identity must be protected, so we have only spoken through the Rhian birds. He writes that his disguise is foolproof. He said you would understand his meaning.” Wiggo sounded curious, hopeful of an explanation.

The emperor closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, as though the words were a fragrant bouquet. “Glorious,” he breathed, with a smile that reached his eyes. “I had no doubt that Gorguon would use great sorcery to infiltrate the Watch. What fun! Their second worst nightmare sitting right under their nose, learning all their secrets. One day soon, the Watch will no longer be useful to us. Then they will pay the price for their arrogance.”

His eyes were once again hard and bright, like chips of flint. “But tell me, what is news of their beloved Andron. Has that troublemaker been dealt with?”

“Yes, Excellency.” Wiggo had emerged from behind the tree, but still stood a safe distance from his master. In amongst the shadows of the oaks, his dumpy outline resembled a knobbly tree stump. “King Phan has had Andron imprisoned for treason,” he said with a trace of smug satisfaction.

“Indeed?” purred the emperor. “ You have been weaving a spell over the royal simpleton. So Phan is without a herbalist?”

“No longer without, Exalted Lord. He is well pleased with the remedies and medicines that I now provide him.”

“Of course he is. I trained you well. And what about the other little job you are doing for me. Have you all the ingredients you need?“

“Yes, Gracious Majesty, we are well supplied,” Wiggo assured him. “In fact, the Thelpy tablets have been prepared.”

“Ahh.“ Thorasco’s mouth curved into an unpleasant smile, as he stroked his falcon. “Then all the Aryks in Pendelethe will soon go beddy-byes. Be careful that not even one eludes capture,” he growled. “Or you will envy the Aryks their slow death when I am finished with you.

Wiggo’s head bobbed. “The capture of the Aryks is taking place as we speak, Great One. I assure you, none will escape. Once we learn where the tapestries are, it is my unworthy opinion that your conquest of Pendelethe will be even simpler than that of Malak.”

“Tell me again why that is so, Wiggo. It is music to my ears.” Thorasco gazed out across the valley, as the sun’s red orb sank below the hills on the horizon. Thick splashes of crimson and amber still stained the sky. Down in the valley, a herd of shorthaired bitarx abandoned the camouflaging safety of the nearby trees, and crept out on all fours, like rippling shadows, to graze on the ameythr grass. Squatting down on stubbly backsides, they began tearing out generous chunks of the grass with long fingers. The adult bitarx periodically rotated their great hairy heads. They peered about with beady eyes, their leathery black nostrils dilating and twitching to detect any unfamiliar scents on the wind. Purple trails of grass-stained saliva dribbled down the pale brown fur of their jowls and necks as they chewed.

“Of course.” Wiggo had ventured forward a step or two. “E..E..Excellency,” he corrected himself hastily. "The two tribes who will remain in Pendelethe, they being the Tirans and the Pascans; well they have had no contact with the Aryks for months. I doubt they will either notice or care when the Aryks vanish, so consumed are they with their own perfection and knowledge, and…”

“Well, then they will adore me.” Thorasco’s lips curled in a sneer, revealing clenched teeth. He stretched his free arm, and wriggled his shoulders. The movement was as languorous and supple as a leopard slinking towards its prey. Wiggo shuffled back, closer to the safety of the oak.

“Yes, and who could not, O Light of Wisdom.” Branches once again muffled his voice. He did not see the irritation that flickered over the emperor’s face. “What is more, they do not believe in magic, so there will be no unforseen obstacles to stand in our… your way.”

“Then you have removed the ageless magic that plagues us?” Thorasco’s voice was heavy with sarcasm. “The…” There was an audible gasp, as Wiggo recognized his mistake. “Oh no! How could I have overlooked the tears of Immo! I crave forgiveness, Merciful Majesty.” There was silence for almost a full minute, then Wiggo cleared his throat. “Thus far, I have been unable to find Andron’s supply of the tears.” A mixture of fear and loathing showed in his eyes.

“Slug,” Thorasco growled. “The Watch must not unearth those accursed tears. You need to find them first, and destroy them. Surely you can pay Andron a personal visit to learn of their whereabouts.”

“It would be my pleasure to question that fool in person.” Wiggo said bitterly. “Enough talk of fools. What is news of our daily bread? Has the mining for Pendelethe’s quartz begun?” His voice was eager. Throughout their conversation, he had not glanced once in Wiggo’s direction. Instead he gazed out into the distance, where all that remained of the day was a dull glow like dying embers, which illuminated the hills on the horizon.

“The quartz, Great One?,” Wiggo queried, buying time. All his earlier confidence was gone. “Ahh,… Well as you know, the King is obsessed by his hatred of the Aryks. Although that has been to our advantage, I fear it dulls his mind to other matters. But I will continue to press him, Excellency.”

“Very good of you.” A hint of menace had crept into Thorasco’s voice. “Listen to me carefully, Wiggo,” he said, spitting his name out as though it was a foul taste in his mouth. Wiggo’s plump shape wobbled unhappily, but he knew better than to talk back. “Pendelethe must have an unimaginable supply of quartz, if the tapestries have been lying there, undiscovered all these years,” Thorasco continued. “We need to get it and soon.”

“Certainly, Excellency.”

“I cannot come to Pendelethe and fulfil my destiny without the quartz to fuel me.” “That is true, Excellency.” “And don’t forget that it is your life source as well.“

“Yes, Excellency,” Wiggo agreed, nodding. “How can I forget? But… I am concerned.”

“You?” That one word spoke volumes. “Are concerned?”

Wiggo hesitated a moment, as though unsure whether to pursue his question. Then he blurted out, “Gracious Master, the quartz protects Pendelethe from the acid rays of the Unseen Star; just as it once shielded our beloved Malak.”
He paused.
Thorasco said nothing.
Wiggo cleared his throat and went on. “Malak is now just the shell of what it used to be, and I .., I..wondered. Well, once the quartz is gone, will not the extreme weather conditions that ravage our land half the year, also begin to eat away at Pendelethe’s resources?” Wiggo cowered near the oak. His exposed flesh seemed to radiate a faint green light.

In the darkness, Thorasco’s skin also appeared to glow. His jaw was clenched, and he rested his long lashes on his cheeks for a moment, before whispering, “Cretin! You dare to question me?” Wiggo gurgled something unintelligible. “The quartz is only a temporary measure, a building block. Once we have the tapestries, our existence will not be reliant on quartz. But we must have an endless source of strength at our disposal before we can hope to crush the source of the tears.” His voice was loud now and it trembled with passion. “Pendelethe and the Aryks may have forgotten about the Emir of Roa and his son Immo, but they are very real. And dangerous opponents, for the moment at least.” He laughed, but there was no mirth in the sound. “Ahhh, let them guard their precious garden. The time will come for that; we deal with Pendelethe first.”

Wiggo crept towards the emperor. “O ..Omnipotent One, it is the matter of quartz that brings me here in person…,” he said in a desperate groan.

“Yes…..? Speak, Wiggo, speak! And with haste! ‘Ere a search party is sent to find me!”

“Forgive me. It...it pains me to trouble you, Excellency. But my personal supply of quartz juice…, it is nearly used up. I have begun to shimmer; mainly after dark, when I am tired,” Wiggo stammered. “No one has noticed yet. But soon I will have no control over it. We have worked too hard to risk being discovered now.” The words were tumbling from his mouth. “I hoped you might be able to spare me just…just a little more?” His voice trembled and rose slightly, pleading.

The emperor arched one slender eyebrow, his eyes narrowed. He pressed his lips into a thin white line. “Two vials remain,” he snarled. “Yet you gulp it down like it’s sugar water, you wasteful clump of dunghill scurf!”

Wiggo, once again cowering behind the oak, bleated in as aggrieved a tone as he dared. “I have been very sparing with it Excellency, I assure you”

“Oh yes?” Thorasco’s laugh was harsh and high pitched as a horse’s whinny. “How much quartz juice did it take to transport your stout form here, halfway across the world? On a whim.“ The Emperor’s voice was still low, but his teeth were bared, and his eyes thin slits. “And you call Andron the fool. Ha! Why did I afford you my last Rhian bird, do you imagine? So you could teach it tricks?”

“To send messages to you, Great One,” said Wiggo, no louder than a squeak.

“To send messages. Yes, dullard, yes!” He paused, breathing slowly and deliberately, stroking his bird while he regained his composure. Then he said in an even voice, “If the juice runs out before we find the tapestries, so do we. We must get to the source of Pendelethe’s quartz. It is of more importance at present, than finding the tapestries. But go now, for I grow weary of this patter. The vial you desire is hanging inside the tree, just above your head, wrapped in a piece of leather. Take it, and touch nothing else. And send the Rhian bird with your next message, or your welcome will not be so sweet.”

“Excellency.” There was relief and greed in the hidden man’s voice. “Thank you, Gracious Master.”

But the emperor had gone, picking his way through the gloom to the castle gates, not glancing back at Wiggo who waited for the complete cover of night to veil his more enigmatic departure.

***
Same day, Pendelethe

Blayre of Dins Hallow slithered towards the dancing feet on her belly, well camouflaged in her green cloak. Entranced by the music, the circle of dryads did not see her…

No. Tien shook her head with frustration. That’s not how it went. I described how they danced first, I think.

Tien’s toes had gone numb, so she wriggled them and stamped her sandalled feet. She puffed a warm breath up to thaw her nose, but it floated uselessly away in a soft white mist. Waiting was a tedious business. For what felt like the hundredth time, Tien peered around the honey-crisp apple tree; the only tree along the orchard’s sun-dappled avenue that concealed her and at the same time provided a good view of the farmhouse.

She knew her family was awake, she could hear them clattering about in the courtyard. But where were Eunaat and the cart? Tien absently plucked a cluster of milkweed flowers from the stalk at her feet, and inhaled the rich perfume of its star-shaped blossoms. She and Mama had methodically planted the milkweed under each tree last spring, in a ploy to lure the silent destroyers, aphids, away from the precious fruit above.

Come on, Eunaat, come on, she fretted. Soon someone will discover that I’m not in my bed, and then everything will be ruined. Tien closed her eyes and tried to still her nervous impatience. Instead she concentrated on all the details that filled her head, picturing exactly how this day was about to unfold. She bit her lip to stop from laughing in delight. It is going to be so exciting, she thought, hugging her cold arms and giggling in a whisper.

Mama and Papa would never, in their wildest imaginings, suspect that Tien would stow away on the fruit cart. Timid Tien never did things like that. Well that was all about to change, she thought, with a defiant glare. This was the only way she would be able to see Fanzine. Papa would never permit her to travel to Pojabe, although it was only an hour’s canter down the main road.

Tien shrugged her backpack from her shoulders, then sat cross-legged on the ground, with her back against the tree. Her pack was grey with age and made from thick, coarse material. Tien opened it as wide as it would allow. She ran her palm along the inner fabric, over the part which rested against her back when she wore it. Her fingers fumbled along the ridges of stitching, till she felt the hiding place. From a tiny gap between the pleat and the pack’s inner lining, she tugged out the thin folded piece of paper. A letter that she knew had been carefully placed there while she’d slept. By force of habit, she glanced cautiously around before opening it out. Then, with a smile playing around the corners of her mouth, she began to read.

Dear You, (I can’t write your name of course, for fear this letter may be intercepted)
I was overjoyed to receive your letter! And heartened to hear that your spirit is not broken;, though our tribe is backed into a corner. A bully king and his thugs cannot intimidate all Aryks.

Tien pulled a face. Not intimidated by King Phan’s special police? Has Fanzine actually seen the Raseen at work? she marvelled remembering their visit to her village not long ago. Their eerie howls still haunted her dreams; a sound that had nearly drowned out the screams of the Aryks they were marking. Long after the Raseen had galloped off, the piteous moans and sobs of broken people had continued. There had not been enough wind in the universe to banish the smell that lingered in Panzaar that day; air thick with the smell of scorched and blistered flesh.

Tien shook her head roughly, as if she could dislodge the image, but it was seared into her mind like the Raseen’s branding irons. What Aryk, in the face of such horror, could not be cowed, Fanzine? she thought. I am just as fearful as the rest.

She read on: By now, probably all the adults in Panzaar have been marked by the Raseen. ‘Marked’, what a feeble word for such cruelty. It is a small blessing that our parents were permitted to brand us themselves, after their own wounds had healed. Grandfather branded me and I never felt it till much later, thanks to that nasty Feltus draught. It put me to sleep for hours.

Tien’s hand strayed to the mark under her jaw. She rubbed it tenderly with her thumb as she read, as if it were still a raw wound.

Miss Roovil gave me some pages as well. How joyous to see words written on paper. I read them over and over. But with the Raseen swooping in at any moment, to check that we are all obediently branded and bookless, I have stashed them in our old hiding place. As you know, Miss Roovil snuck across the border into Tira and Pasco before her arrest. She told me that although we, the Aryks, are the only ones receiving the Raseen’s special attentions, Pendelethe’s other tribes are greatly changed.

What sort of changes, Tien wondered. Her lip curled. Perhaps the Tirans and Pascans found the wealth that had been heaped upon them suffocating. Or maybe there were not enough luxuries for them to spend their money on. How tragic. Oh, no she thought, clapping a hand to her mouth. I’m beginning to sound like Graic! She laughed softly, and after a quick glance towards the farmyard, she continued reading.

The Tirans now have a caste system. Three of the castes are distinguished by the bronze, silver, or gold dots on their foreheads. The highest caste of course, have the gold dots, and members of the lowest caste bear no dots. Our friendly postman is one of those, isn’t he? What a brave man! Tien smiled. Eunaat, the hired Tiran farmhand who always came to help them at harvest, was a quiet hero. If the Raseen had caught him smuggling her letter to Fanzine, the punishment would have been severe. Yet Eunaat had done it without hesitation. It is best the poor man knows nothing about today’s plan, she mused. Not even Fanzine knew. Tien’s gaze drifted back to the letter. In the capital city of Tira, Miss Roovil found everything to be perfect; a little too perfect. She never saw a single citizen with a disabled or flawed body. Miss Roovil was suspicious, and after a little sleuthing she fell over Tira’s dirty little secret: the Quarter. The Quarter is a settlement, a revolting and dangerous place to live. Defects (that is what Tirans call anyone who is less-than-physically-excellent) are snatched from their homes by cover of night, and locked away in the Quarter, away from the rest of society. It is on the outskirts of town and the Raseen keep their distance. Hence, criminals have crept in to inhabit its darkened corners. The Pascans have gone mad as well. They fancy themselves to be the scholars of Pendelethe. Their famous ziggurat is now known as the Library. (Remember that huge building we saw when we went to see Pasco with school, just before the borders closed?) It is full of books. And full of pompous Scholars who hold competitions to discover who is the smartest, who has the best memory, can learn the most languages in one year, can read backwards the fastest! Don’t laugh! I am not making this up. But for the most part, both the Pascans and Tirans seem unscathed and unconcerned by Phan’s regime. While we are fading away. Why?

“That’s what I want to know,” Tien muttered. She looked up past the tree’s leafy boughs. The morning sky was an seamless expanse of indigo, marred only by a faint cloud that drifted high above, pure white like a chunk of lamb’s wool. As Tien watched, the wind gradually stretched the cloud until it separated into pale ribbons. The strips of cloud soon melted into the atmosphere. The heavens were once again flawless. Tien sighed and read on.

Why are only Aryk books being burned? Why are we the only ones forbidden to cross our border? Why is ours the only flesh being branded? I want to know.

© 2006 by Shelly Taylor

2. A Visit From the King

“Well that’s the last of it.”

Tien jumped. She peeked carefully around the smooth trunk. Hurrah! Papa was speaking to Eunaat who had just brought the cart around from the barn. It was already laden with sacks of fruit. The goats were harnessed and hitched to the cart.

Tien folded the letter and slipped it back out of sight, her heart beginning to thump with anticipation. She strained to hear.

“I feel badly that I cannot send Graic up to the border with you,” Papa was saying. “But that was Phan’s orders.”

“It is not every day the King rides through Panzaar.”

“Yes, exciting times,“ Graic agreed. “And what about this present he has promised us, the reason we are all to gather in the village square. I, for one, could not sleep a wink last night for the thrill of it all. Though his Highness shouldn’t have gone to such trouble, because it’s the thought that counts. The satisfaction in knowing that he cares.”

“Peace, Graic,” Papa cautioned. “Perhaps he has had a change of heart about our tribe.”

Tien frowned. She could imagine Papa chewing on the corner of his lip, his mouth pursed. Her eighteen-year-old brother’s outspoken opinions, especially those about the king, caused Papa great concern. He worried that the wrong people should overhear. Which is ridiculous if you think about it. Everyone here quietly agrees with Graic. And in any case, no Aryk is in a position to rat to the king.

“A fair point, Papa,” Graic was saying solemnly. “Have no fear. I will be on my best behaviour when Phan unveils his image in bronze later today.”

“Graic…”

“Papa.” Graic swept both hands through the air. His face bore an expression of injured surprise. “All jesting aside, what else could the big surprise be? Indeed, what more could we want? Freedom to roam our own country? The right to possess books? How very dull! No, a statue of our monarch, I tell you, is the perfect gift for this pampered tribe.”

Papa shook his head at Graic and raised his thick-fingered hands in mock defeat. He turned to Mama. “Sumina, have you given Eunaat the things you wanted him to sell in Tira? We… Haim!,” he shouted out suddenly.

The child who had been in the process of sneaking a piece of fruit from the cart, jumped guiltily.

“Put that orange back. You know very well that there are two full baskets in the kitchen.”

Tien grinned. Her twelve-year-old brother also knew that any fruit going to the Tiran markets was the best of the crop. The Raseen made sure of that.

“Here, Eunaat. The flax should fetch a fair price.” Tien could scarcely hear her mother. She peeped around the tree. Mama was handing the lanky farmhand a linen bag. A shock of auburn fuzz covered her small head, and she scratched absently at a scabby bald patch where the Raseen’s shears had torn her scalp. Mama’s shining curls were gone, tossed like garbage into the bonfire. Since that terrible day when the Raseen had forcibly dragged her over to the branding coals, Mama rarely spoke. Some days she did not bother to bathe or even change into fresh clothes.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Tien’s heart warmed at the comforting sound of Eunaat’s voice. Each harvest, Eunaat came to transport the fruit. He willingly took on any task, and proved to be honest and hardworking. While conditions worsened for the Aryks, and the adults in Tien’s life grew increasingly fearful, Eunaat remained the same. Tien had plucked up the courage, several weeks back, to ask him to deliver her letter, scrawled in coal on a piece of her old tunic, to Fanzine. Eunaat had taken it willingly. Only after she’d given him the letter, did it occur to Tien that Eunaat might betray her trust, and for the next three nights she had lain awake, trembling as she listened for the drumming of hooves that signalled a Raseen raid.

But now he has brought me a reply.

Graic's voice sounded again. Tien rolled her eyes. “Stop playing up to your audience, dummy,” she whispered furiously from her hiding place. “Let the man be on his way!”

She was desperate to leave now, and let the excitement carry her along. If she had much more time to think about it, she knew she might not follow through with her plan.

“Eunaat, I’ll get you to bring back the biggest container of lemon oil you can find,” Graic was telling the Tiran, with an earnest expression on his face. “I hope to discuss many things with the statue of our monarch, whilst I polish him thoroughly from head to toe.”

He mimicked zealous rubbing around his own backside, then smiled broadly as Haim fell about laughing. A smile played across Tien’s lips too, but it quickly vanished. Haim was too young to understand the bitterness behind Graic’s jokes. Graic, had been eight when Phan had come to power, old enough to remember how life for the Aryks used to be. Phan had changed everything. He’d made it clear from the start that he regarded the Aryks, not as humans but worker bees. ‘You are skilled farmers,’ he’d said, ‘and I will be pay you well to work within your own borders, where the soil is fertile.’

This logic had made sense. Aryk soil was rich and dark, and the abundant crops of grains, fruit, silk and flax plants were a vital part of Pendelethe’s prospering trade with neighbouring lands. Wealthy women, from around the world, adored the beautiful linen tapestries and shawls woven from the flax. So Phan had moved all the Aryks living in Tira and even in Pasco, back across Aryk borders ‘for now. Not long after, Tiran middlemen appeared, hired to transport the produce across the border. And then slowly, inch by inch, Phan’s mask had slipped, revealing his true feeling for the Aryks.

For decades Pendelethe’s three tribes had existed in harmony. Now, after ten years under Phan’s regime, the isolation of the Aryks from their countrymen was complete. They were little more than slaves, toiling the land for pittance, and expected to meet Phan’s impossible quotas. In recent months, Phan’s hatred had become more systematic and purposeful. First he had ordered that all the books in Aryk be burned, soon after came the blood-chilling announcement that every Aryk must be branded with the symbol of a purple clover, so that none of them could slip over their borders unnoticed. Through it all, the Aryks had barely let out a peep of protest.

Tien’s lip curled. She was too young to remember any regime other than Phan’s, but she’d read the history books at school, and had discussed with her teacher, Miss Roovil, about how the Aryks had once been. How could any sane person think that tolerating mistreatment is honourable, she wondered? Perhaps it had happened gradually. The Aryks were a gentle people, to whom respect and a humble attitude meant everything. Their honour code seeped in to influence every part of their life. It was Aryk culture to nod politely, come to agreement peacefully, and to never defy authority. Tien rubbed her own bristly scalp through the scarf. Had the Aryks grown to feel they deserved this treatment? That in some way they had called it upon themselves? She knew there would be no answers for these questions. The adults refused to discuss the situation at all. As if by ignoring it, they could pretend that nothing was wrong.

And now it was too late. The pattern was set. The Aryk way has been a grave mistake, Tien reflected, though I’d never let Mama and Papa hear me say it. She smiled at the irony. But now, it seemed that changes were afoot. Out of the blue, the king had requested that all the Aryks in Panzaar gather today in the village square to meet with him. The king’s envoy had mentioned a peace offering, the gift Graic had joked about.

But what good will it do? Tien thought glumly. In the face of Phan and his entourage, who will dare to say what they really feel? I’m not sorry to be missing the king’s visit. Especially if the Raseen are accompanying him. I’ve been planning my trip for ages, and nothing, not even Phan can stop me going. No one will notice. It is not as if they will count each and every one of us if this is a goodwill trip. Papa and Mama will notice, her conscience argued, and they will panic. Papa will be a nervous wreck.

“Well I don’t care. That is his problem,” she hissed through gritted teeth. “I’m going.”

“The load looks stable. I should make a start.” Eunaat’s voice broke through Tien’s ponderings.

She squashed herself back against the tree, as her family fondly farewelled him, their tenuous link to the rest of the world.

“Don’t forget,” Graic called after him, in a falsetto voice. “Only the very best lemon oil.” He muttered something about making ‘Phan smell like the lemon he is’, and Haim doubled up with laughter again, beaming up into Graic’s face while the juice from a snatched orange ran down his chin. Mama pretended to swat the boys away, but she almost smiled as she and Papa walked back inside, their arms entwined.

© 2006 by Shelly Taylor

3. A Hiccup

Two farm goats, sturdy but slow, pulled the cart out onto the track. Tien could hear the wheels creaking as they approached her hiding place. She tossed a quick look over her shoulder to make sure no one had lingered to watch Eunaat’s departure. The courtyard was empty. Tien moved around the tree as the cart rumbled past, and sprinted after it. Then, just like she had done in her mind many times over the last few days, she grasped the rail at the back of the cart and heaved herself up into it.

Tien flopped panting against the fruit sacks. Her eyes sparkled with pleasure at her success; her limbs trembled with exertion. This was easier than she had imagined. The goats didn’t seem to notice the extra weight, and Eunaat sat oblivious, high on his seat behind the beasts, singing at the top of his lungs. Tien stifled a giggle as she burrowed in amongst the sacks of oranges and apples. Eunaat warbling a tune! He was normally so quiet. At the orchard, he never spoke more than was absolutely necessary. She opened her pack, pulled out a thin sheet and draped it over her legs and shoulders. She could throw it over her head if anyone passed by.

I am going to be in deep trouble when I get home, Tien thought gleefully. But I don’t care. Fanzine will just die when she sees me on her doorstep! She nearly laughed aloud at the thought of Fanzine, slack-jawed with surprise. I’ll get a whole night and day with her, she gloated. It will be just like old times. A persistent twinge of guilt clouded her anticipation. She pictured the alarm and worry that would etch itself into Papa’s face when he found that she was gone. Mama would silently begin to wring her hands, over and over. Maybe I should have left a brief note. But then again, I couldn’t. There is no paper left. It will be all right, she reasoned. Papa promised that I could visit Pojabe after my sixteenth birthday. That was over a month ago, so I’m really just keeping his promise.

She rocked with the cart, her mind wandering. It was hard to believe that only three years had passed since her family had relocated from her birthplace, Pojabe, to the fruit-picking town of Panzaar. It had been a difficult move for Tien, who had missed Fanzine terribly. Fanzine had been her best friend ever since she could remember. The one with whom she’d shared every secret. Life with Fanzine had been tinged with excitement. She had the knack of turning the most tedious chore into an enjoyable experience. In fact anything she did became an adventure. And it had rubbed off on Tien. Fanzine’s exuberance for life had inspired Tien to take a few risks and laugh more.

The cart struck a pothole. Tien fell back against a fruit sack, snagging her scarf on the wire that secured it. She pulled it free, and tugged it back over her head. My thick braid was my one redeeming feature, and now I don’t even have that.

She rolled her eyes, remembering a comment she’d overheard years before. ‘More freckles on the girl than stars in a clear night sky,’ one of Mama’s friends had murmured to another. The woman had spoken carelessly, with laughter in her voice; talking loud enough for Tien to hear, but as if she was not there. ‘And such a stout face. A small blessing she at least inherited her mother’s thick chestnut hair.’

In that moment Tien realized she was not beautiful, that in fact she was plain. She had slipped away to her bed and lain there in the shadows, tears scalding her despised cheeks. Later she’d taken Mama’s mirror and scrutinized her face with its liberal sprinkling of freckles. Her eyes appeared more green than brown, with their rims so red from crying. She wrinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue, more at the lady than herself. Then she had made the lady a villain in her story.

Tien touched her face now, and smiled suddenly. If Fanzine had been described in such a manner, she would have just laughed and perhaps drawn attention the size of the lady’s backside, she thought. Fanzine didn’t give a scrap if anyone thought she was pretty or not. Tien missed the carefree spirit that Fanzine’s friendship had brought out in her, for deep down, Tien knew that she had a lot more in common with Papa than she wanted to admit. She was timid and cared too much about other’s opinions. It was maddening. I should be confident, proud of who I am. I should do the bold, exciting things I dream about, that Blayre of Dins Hallow does. Actually, she remembered with a grin, what I am doing now is bold and daring.

The cart rattled past neat rows of orange and apple trees, whose upper boughs were still shrouded in a silvery mist. Only the fruit, hanging from the lower branches like balls of candy, were visible. They left behind the dairies, where the sheep milled about, patiently waiting to be milked. Carts had begun to roll past in the opposite direction; farmers heading in to Panzaar to meet King Phan. Tien made sure that the sheet concealed her. The sickly sweet stench of the retting dams pervaded her nostrils long before she saw the shallow waters, golden with the putrid flax juice. Tien blocked her nose, and peered out with interest. Already the farmers were at work laying sodden flax plants out on the wooden tables. Other workers were beating them with thick mallets to break the outer hull and get at the valuable linen fibres beneath.

Poor Mama, Tien thought. She‘d love to be able to weave the linen into the intricate designs that our ancestors were famous for. If only her hands were not so clumsy and big. The Aryks had long ago abandoned the art of weaving. Their fingers seemed to grow thicker and shorter with every generation and as a result, the patterns they wove grew increasingly amateur. So now they reluctantly sent the dyed fibres to Tiran weavers, who created masterpieces.

Tien laid her head against her pack, trying to get comfortable. The secret pages that Miss Roovil had given her barely made a rustle in the lining of her pack. No one would ever think to look for them there, she thought, her eyes brightening. She resisted the sudden urge take them out and look again at the beautiful drawings that covered them. Miss Roovil had plunged her hand into the smouldering heap of books after the Raseen had left. Only a few pages were worth keeping, but she smuggled them to Tien before her arrest. Tien shuddered at the thought of Miss Roovil being treated terribly by the Raseen somewhere.

The road ahead had turned a rusty red and was now winding through the small canyon formed by the Ginger Rock Hills. This was the slowest part of the trip, but it was also the most interesting. The deep orange soil of the hills stood in stark contrast to the leafy bushes that covered them. The road was narrow and steep and the land around the five hills was wild and overgrown. Tien had always felt a thrill as she travelled past the Ginger Rock Hills, a longing to explore the untamed slopes. One day I will come back and discover the secrets of these hills for myself, she thought. Just not today. She settled back and closed her eyes, lulled by the cart’s rocking motion.

***

It felt as though she’d been travelling for an age. We must surely be there soon, Tien thought impatiently. She strained to see ahead, and felt a surge of excitement. They were going rounding a much smaller hill now, one not quite close enough to be part of Ginger Rock. Tien could not see what lay beyond, but the hill itself was familiar. She had come here many times as a child, to climb to the top and play among the boulders there. Pojabe was minutes away.

Suddenly, a bloodcurdling screech raised the hair on her neck. Tien heard Eunaat gasp. The cart lurched as he swerved to the right, to get off the track. Tien clung grimly to the side rail as Eunaat urged the goats behind a stray mulberry bush. Then Eunaat threw himself under the cart. Tien cowered beneath the sheet. Her limbs felt cold and wooden. She could hear Eunaat’s ragged breathing below her.

The initial screech was echoed by several answering shrieks, and then raucous laughter rang out.

“It is refreshing to find a man who is passionate about his job,” crowed a voice.

“That was just the beginning, my friend. There is still the quaint township of Panzaar, just full of juicy little Aryks to squash,” came the answering snicker.

Tien’s stomach churned as if something was sliding and writhing inside it. She heard Eunaat stifle a moan. He began to whisper. It sounded like he was praying, but the words were tumbling out, fast and confused. Tien closed her own eyes, and prayed that Eunaat would stop talking. Please don’t let them hear him, please, she begged silently.

“You’d do well to remember that the orders do not include actual squashing,” the first voice admonished laughingly.

“Are twelve carts really enough to carry them all?”

“Well there are not more than one hundred and fifty in all. They ought to enjoy the privilege of being allowed to stand. It will be the last time they do.”

“Ha! All right, let’s not dawdle. Gidallop!” As they galloped away, their harsh laughter fading, Tien peeped fearfully out at their retreating backs. The men who had spoken were uniformed. They wore loose red pants and white tunic shirts, each with a cruel-bladed scimitar tucked into a narrow belt. Long black extensions had been woven into their hair and swung in countless tiny plaits down their backs, miniature barbed shafts attached to the end of each. Though she couldn’t see their faces, Tien knew that their eyes were thickly rimmed with kohl, that their teeth were capped with black gold. Raseen!

Her skin prickled into goose bumps. She wanted to scream out to Eunaat to turn around and go back to warn her family about these nightmarish men and their carts, but the words stuck in her throat. She lay there, frozen in horror at what she’d heard. What could she do? Eunaat was muttering in a high-pitched voice, as he led the goats carefully back onto the track; something about getting to the shelter of Pojabe as soon as possible.

The township of Pojabe lay ahead, its huts blending into the landscape of hills and boulders. It looked exactly as she remembered it; small, or as Papa used to say, ‘a friendly size’. Pojabe was more a village than a town. The goats’ hooves thudded dully on the rich red earth of the main street. The market’s wares were all set out in their stalls. Smoke drifted lazily from the outdoor stoves, ready for roasting meat. Livestock brayed. Several chickens wandered about, clucking and pecking at unseen nourishment in the dirt. But there were no human voices, not a single person was about. Eunaat groaned and jumped down from his seat. Tien heard him running to look inside the first few buildings. She could tell by his panicked gurgles, which were growing louder, that they must be empty. Fanzine and all the people of Pojabe were gone.

What has happened to them, Tien wondered? Her brain felt thick and lethargic. Where have they all been taken? Are they dead? She lay there as the Raseen’s cruel words echoed through her head, over and over. With a rising sense of panic, the enormity of what she had just heard began to sink in. Mama and the others are about to face some unknown terror, she told herself, a sour taste rising at the back of her throat. And there is nothing I can do to help them. Another wave of nausea hit her.

“Well, what have we here?” Tien jumped. The voice was not loud, but in the silent street, it sounded like a trumpet blast.

Eunaat screamed shrilly, then whimpered like a kicked dog. Tien scrunched herself up into a ball.

“A little mouse has evaded capture, ha?” laughed the man whom Tien, from her hiding spot in the cart, could not see.

“Renda, come and look.” “What is it?” It sounded as if the man, Renda, was in a surly temper. “This one wasn’t taken. Shall we have our own fun?”

“Let me see.” Heavy booted footsteps came close, and there was a brief silence. “He is a Tiran, Maligo.” Renda’s voice was raised in exasperation. “See, there is no mark upon him. But he has seen us, so we cannot release him.” There was a muffled grunt from Eunaat.

“Well, all right,” said Maligo, sounding disappointed. “I’ll go and see what goods he was bringing, shall I?” Renda did not seem inclined to answer. Tien heard boots approaching the back of the cart. She stiffened, her mind whirling too fast for her to tell what she was thinking, or what she should do. She heard a rustle as the sacks near the back of the cart were opened and examined. “More stinking fruit!” Maligo grumbled. “We really should not have surprised these good people until they had roasted their meat. No self-respecting Raseen can carry out his duties while surviving solely on fruit. I’ll go soft and sentimental as a peach, if I have to eat another one. Give me a leathery slab of meat to gnaw on any day!“ His voice moved away. “All done,” he called out, from the front of the cart now. “Let us collect our bits and pieces and return to Tira. Phan will be pleased with our day’s work, I think.”

Adrenaline coursed through Tien’s body. Pure relief. She focussed on slowing her breathing. How could he have not seen me? she asked herself dazedly. Then a soft chuckle sounded next to her.

© 2006 by Shelly Taylor

4. Capture

“The mouse has a friend,” Maligo murmured, his hot breath tickling her ear. He called out in a loud voice, “Come and see this oversized fruit, Renda.”

He hauled Tien out of the cart, his fingers biting into her armpits. Then he thrust her into a heap on the ground. Tien lay immobile where she had landed, still cocooned in her sheet. She began to shiver uncontrollably, her heart slamming against her ribs. How could her heart beat so fast, she wondered, when she felt it would stop in terror? The sheet was torn from her. Blinking and squinting, she looked up at her captors.

“An Aryk girl!” Maligo crowed, his black teeth gleaming.

He stood over her, hands on his hips, his booted legs spread apart as though he still rode his goat. Tien could not drag her eyes from him. She stared as though mesmerized. Maligo was a short, swarthy Raseen, broad shoulders with almost no neck. He had tied his plaits into a knot, and their spikes fanned his head like a peacock’s feathers. Three silver dots formed a horizontal line on his sweaty brow.

Tien’s eyes flickered fearfully to the other Raseen who now joined Maligo, and she met Eunaat’s startled gaze. Held upright by Renda, Eunaat gaped first at her, and then at the cart, comprehension dawning on his face.

“We’ll take them both with us then, shall we?” Maligo was saying to Renda, who seemed to be his superior. “We can put the girl on a cart with her kin, en route to Tira.”

“Let me look at her.” Renda pulled her over to one side, pulling her head to one side so he could examine the mark just under her jaw line. Tien trembled under his scrutiny, but after a moment, he swung her braid back. “Use your eyes man,” he called out to Maligo, as he dragged her back to the cart. “A lesser Tiran girl with a nasty case of head lice, no more. She has no mark.” He tugged the scarf back on her head.

“Oh. My mistake.” Maligo was grudging.

Renda began to walk away. “We’ll take them both to Tira,” he called back over his shoulder.

Maligo scowled at his retreating back. “All right, scratchy. You heard him. Let’s go.” As Maligo grasped her shoulders with his hard fingers, something inside Tien snapped.

She clapped both hands over her ears and the scream that she had been trying to swallow down for the last few minutes exploded from her throat. The shrill pitch of it surprised even her. Caught off guard, Maligo loosened his grip. Tien instinctively fled.

“Oy, stop!” Maligo pelted after her. Catching hold of her tunic, he threw her to the ground and stumbled over her legs. “Now you be a good girl, alright,” he panted, lugging her back to the cart, his breath sour in her face. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll behave…Hey!,” Maligo broke off, as Eunaat barrelled into him, his fists flailing wildly. “Stop, little man,” Maligo gave a surprised chuckle, but Eunaat did not appear to have heard him. “Ok, that’s how you want to do it, eh?” Maligo’s tone had changed. “I don’t feel so soft and peachy anymore.”

He let Tien slump to the ground. In a blur, she saw him raise a short black stick. A blinding spurt of light crackled out from it, striking Eunaat in the centre of his forehead, He slid motionless to the ground. Tien didn’t stop to think. She pummelled up at Maligo with her own fists; tears pouring down her cheeks. She wasn’t aware that Maligo had raised the baton again, until a jarring pain consumed her, radiating from her spine to her fingertips and toes. Loud buzzing filled her ears and seemed to pour out of her.

“Careful, Maligo,” someone was shouting. “Enough! She can help us with information about the Aryks that she transported for. Phan will have your neck if she dies….” Then mercifully everything went dark and still.

***

The little girl scampered down the path, a stitch cramping her left side. Dry puffs of peppery dirt rose from her scuffed footprints, as she darted past the villagers in the main street. She cast an anxious glance over her shoulder. It was hot in the midday sun, so the child kept to the cool shadows of the lime trees. There was only one street for business in Pojabe; the other paths led to uniform clusters of round mud–plastered houses. Each group of huts encircled an open courtyard.

Rubbing the cramp fiercely, the child trotted down the short lane to her home. She passed beneath the low archway and stood still, panting; letting her eyes adjust to the dimness inside. The dirt floor of the single room was neatly swept. Clay water pots and a leather bucket were stacked up next to the door. In the centre of the room, a thick wooden post supported the thatched roof. Five hammocks hung from three smaller posts that were set into the wall on the far side of the house. The end of each hammock was roped to the centre beam. A small table and five stools took up the rest of the room. Sunlight trickled through the old thatched roof, sprinkling the floor with beads of light.

The child cocked her head as the sound of laughter and voices drifted in from the courtyard. “Mama!“ she murmured. Tien crossed to the window and stood on her toes so she could see out.

Several women sat around a pile of unspun wool. Mama was fanning a small coal stove under the shade of a neem tree. Haim toddled after a ball fashioned from cloth and string, a soggy piece of bread clenched in one fist.

Tien looked back towards the door. She had made it safely this far. Not wanting to chance being seen from the lane, Tien dragged a water pot to the window. She turned it upside down and clambered onto it. Then, hoisting first one leg and then the other over the window’s edge, she lowered herself down into the courtyard.

The good-natured prattle of the women did not skip a beat, but some raised their eyebrows and looked across at Tien’s mother.

“Ah Sumina, who is this little monkey coming to visit you?,” lisped one toothless old lady.

Tien scuttled into Sumina’s outstretched arms, burrowing her head into her mother’s embrace like a lamb. In Mama’s soft strong arms, she felt safe. After a few moments, Tien wriggled free and looked up into Mama’s hazel eyes, before settling onto a corner of a brown sisal mat.

“I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” said Sumina. She broke off a piece of hot bread, and blew on it before handing it to Tien. “Mmmmm.” Tien nibbled around the edge of the bread slowly to bide time while she figured out what her story would be.

“Are you sick?” asked Sumina. Tien considered for a moment.

“No,“ she decided aloud, remembering that being sick meant you had to stay inside all day.

“Did you forget your lunch?” her mother persisted. Tien shook her head. No, in fact that part had been so exciting, she had stopped under the first tree on the way, and eaten it all. “You haven’t left anything else behind, have you?”

Tien darted a look at her mother. Did she suspect? Surely not. Earlier, she had come back to fetch the string ball that she had ‘forgotten.’ But then she’d spent the rest of the morning hiding in the scrub just out of town, and capturing grasshoppers as pets.

The rustle of a crisp skirt and hurrying footsteps sounded close by. Tien’s cheeks paled. She had been so careful, making sure that she had not been followed.

“Someone else to see you, Sumina,“ one of the women called. Tien ducked behind Mama just in time. She gripped the back of her mother’s tunic with trembling fingers, as a young lady entered the courtyard. The women rose in welcome. Tien did not dare to peek around her mother’s back. As long as her eyes were closed, she knew she was invisible.

The visitor smiled at the women, greeting each one in the traditional manner. ‘How are you?’ ‘How goes your family?’ ‘How are your crops?’ They murmured the appropriate responses warmly, gesturing for her to share a mat.

When they were all seated, the woman turned to Sumina. “I have come to leave a message for your daughter.”

“Ah. Well I will be sure to tell her, when next I see her,” Sumina assured her. As she crouched behind her mother’s back, Tien listened with every part of her body.

“The children are practising for a harvest drama next week, and Fanzine told me to tell Tien: ‘There cannot be a cabbage patch with only one cabbage. Please come and be the cabbage patch with me’. ”

“I hope Tien gets this message in time, Miss Roovil,” Sumina said. “It sounds rather urgent!”

“Yes,” Miss Roovil agreed. “And I do hope that Tien does not miss the parade for the new students this afternoon. Each student will be carrying a flag.”

Tien’s jaw dropped. A flag? She marvelled. I can carry a flag? Just for being new at school? It was too thrilling!

“Miss Roovil, I can carry the flag,” she cried, bursting from her hiding place.

“Oh, hello.” Miss Roovil looked very surprised. She smiled at Tien, and then gave a puzzled frown. “Do I know you?”

“It is I, Tien,” said Tien, standing up straight so that Miss Roovil could see how big she was. “Today is my first day at school.”

“And it is mine too! I am on my way there now. Shall we walk together?”

Tien nodded. She looked at her mother, and tears welled up in her eyes. Now that she was a big schoolgirl, she would not be able to help Mama with her work. Poor Mama. She threw her arms about her tightly, and felt her mother kiss the top of her head. Then she let Mama go with a loud sniff, and wiped her eyes.

Bye, Mama. I have to go and show Fanzine how to be the cabbage patch,” she said with a watery smile. Tien’s head began to throb; waves of pain pulsed through her temples. She tried to rub them, but her hands would not move. Mama’s face faded into a blur and the women’s voices grew faint. As Tien’s eyes fluttered open, the huts and courtyard vanished. Oh no! Real tears slipped through her lashes as she realized it had all been a dream. That day in Pojabe was a lifetime ago.

© 2006 by Shelly Taylor

6.A Daring Plan

Tien stiffened, her chest heaving. Tears at her own helplessness stung her eyes but she blinked them away, determined not to cry. She forced herself to breathe slowly.
Fen is right, she thought. I’ll get the blame when those two are discovered missing. I could try to warn this guard about their plan. She rolled slightly onto her back to ease the pressure on her right arm, which had gone to sleep. Oh what’s the use, she told herself miserably. I wouldn’t be able to prove they were going to break out, till after they were already gone. Saka and Fen could just deny it.

The guard outside fumbled with the lock for a moment, before sliding back a small metal grate that was level with the floor. He grunted. “Good evening, my little canaries,” he said with a simper. He must have been kneeling with his face next to the grate, because they could hear him clearly. “Have you become acquainted with yer new little house guest yet? Given her the big tour of the place?”

He cackled as he pushed a flask of water and a battered tin plate bearing chunks of bread through the grate. A bowl of greasy broth with limp green shreds floating in it followed. Some of its contents sloshed onto the plate. “Dinner is soured. Sorry, I mean dinner is served.“ He pealed with laughter again. “Oops, nearly forgot; we can’t have you dining without the silver now, can we?” He shoved a spoon through the grate with much merriment.

“Warden?” “What is it lad? After a second helping already?,” the warden snorted.

“Warden, the new prisoner has not moved since she was brought in. She’s lost a lot of blood. I fear that the stale smell of it will begin to offend your nostrils, and those of your superiors.” Saka’s tone was careless, but he rubbed his temples in agitation as he spoke. “We would appreciate a cloth to clean it up. Please.”

There was complete silence. Tien held her breath. As she had told Fen, the orders had clearly been that she be kept alive. She could almost feel the warden processing the information from Saka, and weighing it up against his orders from the Raseen. She heard scuffling and grunting, the dull sound of flesh being pressed against the door. The warden must be getting to his feet.

“Oh.., Ah, the prisoner is sick, you say? Not moving? She cannot be dead, surely. They said the prod was not used too much on her.” The warden’s voice quavered, all his bravado sapped by the news. “Has she a pulse?” he asked.

“If there is, it is but a flutter,” said Saka casually, giving a thumbs up to Fen. The room was by now almost in total darkness, but Tien heard the confident smirk in his voice, as he manipulated his captor. Again, there was silence.

Finally, the warden said, “I’d better come in and have a look at her myself.” He made a poor attempt at sounding gruff. “First, put the food back through the grate; and the spoon. Especially the spoon.” Saka hurried to do as he said. “Good. Now,” the warden barked, “ both of you, get back against the wall where I can see you, and keep your hands up.”

Saka and Fen obediently went to stand against the wall next to the door. There was a jangle of keys, then the protesting screech of rusty hinges, as the guard forced the door open. He entered cautiously, his lantern flooding the room with warm light and wavering shadows.

Tien lay rigid, her eyes closed tight. She had no idea what she was supposed to do when the guard came in, or when he realized she was not sick, let alone dying. Don’t move, she told herself. Breathe slowly and don’t move. This was easier said than done. Tien’s shorn head prickled under the scarf. She longed to scratch it.

“Let’s see how she is,” said the guard. There was real concern in his voice.

He’s only worried for himself, Tien thought contemptuously. Worried that he’ll be in trouble with the Raseen. She could hear him moving towards her. Her body tensed, waiting for his hand to grab her wrist and feel for a pulse. I mustn’t flinch, she thought, because then he’ll know I’m faking. I have to go limp. She forced her muscles to relax, and allowed her aching limbs to droop. But then the plan seemed to go haywire.

Fen called softly, “ Oh, and Warden, we found these golden bangles in the girl’s pocket. There is a crusted diamond serpent wrapped around each one. It may not b ….”

The guard gasped at the description of the jewellery. Tien frowned at the blatant lie, and without thinking, her eyes flew open. She saw the guard stride over to Fen. His lean stoop-shouldered frame dwarfed her. “Let me see.”

His voice was incredulous. “How could the little thief manage to steal such bangles? They are only worn by the Tiran princesses.” His hand snaked out to jerk them from Fen’s grasp. He didn’t notice the smooth movement behind him, until it was too late. Saka clamped a cloth firmly over his nose and mouth, and within seconds he slumped to the ground.

© 2006 by Shelly Taylor

5. Fellow Inmates

Urgent whispers penetrated the dreams of the figure, lying awkwardly on the ground.

‘Give it here. Let me have a look at least.”

‘Shh! Honestly, must you whisper so loudly? We can’t take any more risks. If this doesn’t work, there will not be another chance till next week. The others will have given us up for dead by then.”

“ I know it has to be tonight, Saka. It’s all we’ve talked about for days.”

“Oh, this wretched, wretched thing!” A soft scuffle ensued, but Tien did not dare twist her head to look.

“A simple ‘please’ wouldn’t have cost you a thing, Fenrysienne. There’s no need to forgo your manners and good breeding just because we are in the bowels of Tira. Ouch!”

“You know I hate to be called that! Now, see? I’ve undone the first knot, while you’ve been jabbering.”

“Give it back, and I’ll stop.”

“No, let me get the rest out. My nails are longer. Honestly Saka, how did your belt get so tangled? ”

This had been going on for the last few minutes, as far as Tien could tell. At first it had seemed to be part of her muddled dreams. But as the throbbing in her head and arms brought her to groggy wakefulness, the whispering had not stopped. Bewildered, she lay still.

My head feels so thick and slow, she thought. Like I’m moving underwater through thick mud. Oh, my shoulders ache. Where are my arms? She wriggled her hands and found that they were clasped together behind her back. She couldn’t separate them or bring them up to her face. Why won’t they move when I want them to? Are they stuck? Her sluggish brain began to churn, backtracking over what she could last remember; wanting to make sense of the pain and unfamiliar voices she had woken to.

A jumble of images pierced through the haze of her memory. They flashed past like bats at dusk, vanishing before she could really see them. Bouncing in the back of a cart. A man’s laughter. Another man’s screams. Or had she been the one screaming? And then, a sudden jolt of agony. Fragments of conversation echoed nightmarishly inside her pounding head. ‘

Juicy little Aryks to squash. Juicy. Juicy. Ha ha ha. Little Aryks to squash.’ The Raseen! she remembered, with a thrill of fear. I’ve captured by the Raseen. Panic rose at the back of her throat. Every muscle tensed for flight. But she fought the instinct and lay motionless, straining to hear. The earthy smell of mould and soil filled her nostrils. Her garment was damp, and she shivered, though there was no breeze.

“…why has she been put here with us? There must a good reason,” the woman was whispering.

“Well, she has not stirred since she came in. The prodding she received may have nearly finished her off.” The reply was a man’s.

Thanks for the sympathy, Tien thought, indignation rousing her a little. Prodding? she mused. That sounds awful. It’s no wonder my whole body aches.

“Listen,” the man was saying, “ we cannot second guess every minute of what will happen. Let’s trust in our plan. And I’ll have my belt back, thankyou very much.”

Slowly, hardly daring to breathe, Tien opened her eyelids a fraction to get her bearings. A dark stone wall materialized before her fluttering lashes. Without moving, her eyes scanned what seemed to be a cramped and windowless room, bare of any furniture. Two small patches of light filtered through a crack where the ceiling met the wall. Could it be late afternoon? she wondered, because the light is dimming. How long have I been here? The whispering was coming from a shadowy corner opposite her, only just within her line of vision. Tien could make out the silhouette of a man. He had his back to her. He uttered a muffled curse.

“Saka, if you won’t let me fix it, at least light a waxmatch, so you can see what you have to untangle,” the woman hissed.

Someone struck a match. Tien gasped as the sudden flare illuminated the woman’s disfigured face. Her features were swallowed up again by the darkness, as the man dropped the match. Stupid, stupid, stupid, Tien chided silently, screwing her eyes tightly shut. When she dared to open them again, the two companions were kneeling over her. Another waxmatch cast a flickering light over their faces.

“Who are you?” the man whispered. He gently pulled her up, into the light of the match. As he stared at her, his eyes widened and his mouth fell open.

Tien groaned as he abruptly released his grip, leaving her to slump painfully back onto the floor. “Fen, see the mark on her neck? She is an Aryk. But look, she wears a Watcher’s cloak.“

Tien was fully alert now, and butterflies fluttered in the pit of her stomach. This must be a holding cell or a prison. Maybe Mama and the others had all been prodded and were stashed here somewhere as well. But who were these people?

The woman gazed at Tien. The skin on the left side of her face stretched tightly over her features, tugging her mouth and left eye into a permanent leer. The scarred flesh was shiny and uneven, as though it had been melted and then smeared across her cheek and jawbone before it set. A knotted scarf concealed her hair, but she had made no such effort to hide her scars.

“Who are you?,” the woman asked. Her eyes were troubled. “How do you come to have this cloak?”

What cloak do they mean? Tien wondered. She bent her head painfully to look at what she was wearing. Sure enough, her shoulders were shrouded in a dark material that she did not recognize. She looked up at the two of them, confusion darkening her eyes. What should I say, she wondered? Will they believe me if I tell the truth? She decided to try. She was in no condition to make anything up.

“I am Tien,” she said, trying to meet their gaze. “I do not understand why I have this cloak on me,” she said. Her voice sounded low and hoarse to her own ears. She cleared her throat. “I have never seen it before.“

Fen glanced at Saka, her expression lost in the shadow he cast. Saka crouched down on his haunches, close to where Tien still lay. He searched her face with suspicious eyes.

“Why have you been brought to the city jail?” he asked.

The jail in Tira, Tien told herself. I was right. She blinked. Surely this was a dream. Her body felt light and floaty as if she was watching this conversation from some distance. Nothing seemed real.

“I’m not sure,” she said aloud, wishing that Saka would stand up. “I was caught by some Raseen in Pojabe yesterday. At least, I think it was yesterday. One of them said that they needed to keep me for questioning.” It suddenly occurred to her that maybe Eunaat was here as well.

“Was anyone brought in here with me?” she asked hopefully.

Fen’s face softened. “No,” she said, “I think you were on your own”. A deep gong resonated around the room. Tien jumped. Someone was ringing a bell outside.

Saka tensed. “We’ve been distracted,” he said over the din. “We have to go.”

They’re planning an escape, Tien realized. Her mind raced. Why didn’t I see it before? She raised beseeching eyes to Fen. “You’re trying to escape, aren’t you? Please take me out with you!” She bit her lip, shocked by the words that had tumbled out of her mouth. What am I saying? she thought. These people are in jail. That means they’re criminals and possibly dangerous. Although, she remembered, I’m innocent and I’m in their cell. Oh what does it matter? The important thing is that they have an escape plan. I would never be able to find a way out of here by myself. I’d never have considered the possibility. Tien wanted to sit up, but she did not have the strength to, without her hands to help her. And whenever she stretched her neck, black dots clouded her vision.

Saka was shaking his dark head emphatically. “Not a chance.”

“I will go on my way afterwards, and never tell anyone I saw you, ” Tien pleaded.
“Think about it, Saka,” Fen muttered. “What will her fate be if we leave her here? She will be punished for not alerting the guards. And there is a reason for that cloak. I know it.”

The thud of heavy boots echoed on the stone floor outside. Saka tugged Fen, by the shoulder, over to the wall adjacent to the door. “We go ahead as planned! “ he hissed. Then he turned back to Tien. “Play dead.” His voice was urgent. “If they need you alive, as you said, he will come in to check on you. He may even untie your bonds.”

Heartless pig! Tien kicked the wall hard with her bound feet, till she had Saka’s attention again. “Please don’t leave me to the mercy of the raseen. Please?” She had get through to him. She did not want to die. Not here. Fear tightened her throat.

“You will never see me again afterwards,” she whispered. “I’ll disappear and I won’t tell a soul. Please?”

As Tien spoke, she thought she saw a softness flicker briefly over Saka’s face. Then it was gone. “Lie still and stay quiet if you want things to go better for you,” he said shortly, not meeting her gaze.

The footsteps slowed as they reached the door. “Your luncheon buffet is served, and if its aroma is anything to go by, it be the most unforgettable taste sensation in town!” rasped a loud voice, as a key turned in the lock.

Saka threw a last desperate look at Tien, before returning to stand near the door.

© 2006 by Shelly Taylor

7. Escape

The next few minutes were a haze for Tien. Suddenly Saka was bending over her. He picked her up and slung her over his shoulder. Then he locked the cell door with the guard’s key, and loped after Fen, who sprinted silently ahead. Tien’s head bounced up and down on Saka’s shoulder, as Saka navigated the labyrinth of passageways. She could see where they were quite clearly, by the light of flaming torches bolted into the walls.

The torches reeked of kerosene, and spewed out thick choking smoke. Barred cells lined either side of the passageway. It was dark enough to be a dungeon, but Tien remembered the light that had seeped through the cracks in the ceiling. Dungeons didn’t receive any sunlight, at least not in the stories she’d grown up with.

As Saka ran, Tien could see that prisoners silently watched them, from their cells on either side. There were no startled expressions; no cries or yells for their attention. Just a blur of hopeless faces, whose vacant eyes stared dully out at them. Are they Aryks? she wondered, her heart skipping a beat. They can’t be, she told herself, though she tried to have a better look at them all the same. No, these prisoners had obviously been here a long time, for their cheeks to be so hollowed. They look like living skeletons with such grey, lifeless skin, Tien thought. The poor things.

Ooof! Saka stumbled slightly. He righted himself, repositioned Tien and then kept going. His breathing was loud and shallow as he struggled under her weight. It’s no fun for me either, mister, Tien fumed, her cheeks burning in the darkness. Being made to feel like a great sack of fruit.

After what felt like an hour of being hauled through the musty prison, she realized that the air smelt fresher; the aroma of fragrant cooking mingled with the pungent sweetness of spoiled fruit. Tien could hear the distant clamour of a busy city coming alive for the night. She lifted her head and peered around. There was a gate just ahead. It was wide open, and led into a small courtyard, lit by a flickering lamppost. From the empty baskets piled up to one side, and the compost heap fermenting ripely on the left, it appeared that this was the prison’s side entrance, where stale bread and fruit could be brought from the markets to feed the prisoners.

A second gate led into an unlit alley. Fen fumbled with the mass of keys, to find one that would open it. The key turned silently. Fen pushed the gate and it swung open with a yawning groan. The three fugitives held their breath. Nothing stirred from inside the prison. Fen released a shaky sigh of relief.

“I’ll go back now,” she whispered, holding up the keys.

Tien raised her head from Saka’s shoulder to look at Fen. Go back? she wondered, her heart sinking. What did Fen mean? Was Fen going to stay?

“Just unlock the first few cells,” Saka told Fen. “Then let them have the keys. They will have plenty of time. Vond should sleep like a baby all night and wake up with no memory of what took place.”

Fen nodded. “We’ll wait in the alley. Hurry!” Saka urged.

Hanging, helpless and ungainly, over Saka’s shoulder, Tien’s eyes widened in dismay. They cannot be serious, she thought. Feeling sorry for the prisoners, is one thing, but to free them all? Won’t someone notice an empty jail a little quicker than just three missing prisoners? Fen slunk off, disappearing back into the jail. Saka carried Tien out of the gate.

“Having all the prisoners on the loose will give us a head start,” he said, as though he’d read her mind. He snorted a soft laugh. “Well, it won’t really,“ he admitted. “It may cause half a day of confusion though, which is to our advantage. It’s our small way of saying ‘nah nah-nah-nah nah’ to the establishment. And anyhow, none of the wretches on the ground floor are there for any crime, other than showing compassion to those whom the king’s new laws exclude.”

Tien started in surprise. Saka talked as if he was against some of Phan’s ideas. But is he being honest? she wondered. Could it be a ploy to get me to feel comfortable, to let my guard down? But that is ludicrous. I have no information that is worth all that effort. She frowned. Maybe Saka and Fen were genuinely unhappy with the changes in Pendelethe.

Tien’s head ached and it hurt to think. She longed to rub her cold hands over her forehead. She wriggled her fingers. When they reached the safety of the alley’s concealing shadows, Saka set her down carefully. He placed her upright onto the cobbled road. Tien swayed precariously. Her legs were still tied together. Saka gripped her forearms and propped her against the wall of the jail. Yellow light from the courtyard’s lamppost spilled over into the alley, and Tien was able to make out his features.

Now that Tien was on her feet, she saw that Saka was not as tall as she had first thought, although he stood a good head and shoulders over her. He was obviously still growing, and a bit on the scrawny side. Saka’s face was typically Tiran, a firm jaw with a slightly prominent chin. No prince charming, but definitely not a frog either.

“Can you stand alright?” he asked, his dark puppy-eyes nearly hidden under an untidy thatch of dark fringe. He scraped it back impatiently. Tien leant heavily against the wall, and nodded at him. She still could scarcely believe that they had taken her with them. “Walk?,” Saka asked.

“I think so. It’s really my arms and the back of my head that hurt.” Tien instantly wished she had not admitted this. She did not want to reveal any weakness that could see her left behind. “I’ll be fine,” she added quickly.

Saka flashed a smile that transformed his face. His four front teeth were a little gappy and very white. “I am sure you will,” he said, producing a wicked-looking blade from his pocket. “Though I think that you will go better without these.”

Tien flinched and her eyes widened as he reached behind her back. Then she relaxed sheepishly. He was only trying to cut the cords that bound her hands and feet. Two deft upward slices, and they fell to the ground.

“So kind of Vond to loan us his knife,” Saka said, pocketing it again. Tien wriggled her toes in their sandals, and gently rubbed her tender wrists. Free! she thought, a smile spreading over her face. Then she remembered why she was in Tira. Somewhere, my family and all the Aryks are locked up. Are the Raseen hurting them? Have they been taken as slaves?

Images of the awful things her family could be enduring at this very moment, seeped into Tien’s mind like a black cloud. She couldn’t bear it. She screwed her eyes closed, rubbing at her eyeballs until she only saw blackness. The blood had begun to pulse freely through her limbs again. Pain replaced the pins and needles, distracting her tormented thoughts. It hurt. Tien gritted her teeth and sucked in a breath. She shook out her arms and legs, trotting on the spot to hurry the process along. Her cheeks flushed as she noticed Saka staring, but it was working. The pain was beginning to subside. Tien felt a tightness around her chest. She reached around and touched something bulky. It was attached to her back and covered by the cloak.

She twisted around and struggled to pull it off. Then she held it up for a better look. My backpack! Tien grinned. How did it get from the cart onto my back? She had a sudden terrible thought. Fanzine’s letter. Had it been discovered? Tien fumbled with the tie, and her trembling fingers probed the letter’s hiding place. Oh, thank goodness! It was there! Next she felt for the slight thickness, where she had sewn the precious pages from Miss Roovil into the lining of her pack. They rustled slightly under her fingertips. A wave of warm relief washed over Tien’s body. She felt like dancing and shouting with joy at this small triumph, but she was too weak. In any case it wouldn’t be wise to draw attention to the pack’s importance, she remembered. It was too soon to tell if Saka or Fen could be trusted.

Tien glanced at Saka, as she hugged the pack to her chest. “How did you get chloroform into the prison? Didn’t the guards search you thoroughly?,” she asked, with a burst of confidence.

Saka blinked, and then grinned. “Ha!“ he chortled. “That was no chloroform!” He leaned forward in a confidential manner. “Fen knows all about herbs and remedies. She remembered learning that the juice of a crushed roach, when mixed with an acid, becomes a sedative. It is powerful enough to put an elephant to sleep for half a day!”

His eyebrows lifted. “As you can imagine, there was no shortage of the live ingredient in our cell.” He chuckled at Tien’s grimace. “And then each day without fail that dreadful soup was served up. Guess what the green stuff floating in it is?” Tien shook her head, her aches forgotten for the moment. “Lime tree leaves!” Saka crowed. “And although they were wilted and cooked, they still managed to bring out the potency of the roach fluids. As poor Vond found out.”

Saka laughed unsympathetically. He seemed to mistake the incredulous look on Tien’s face as one of concern for the guard’s welfare. “Hey,” he said, with a shrug. “I was the guinea pig for Fen’s recipe before we used it on Vond, so I know first hand that he’ll suffer no long-term ill effects. Well, at least none that he doesn’t already have.” He stooped low, his arms and legs splayed, and skulked around her; a fair imitation, of both the roaches and Vond.

“Ugh!“ Tien smiled. Tiran roaches grew to be the size of a man’s hand. Being flat, they could slide under most doors. The roaches had invaded Aryk in plague-like proportions several seasons ago. Tien would never forget the night when she had woken to something scratching and pulling on her nightshirt. She’d looked down to see five or more glossy black roaches scrabbling over her. They had scattered harmlessly into the shadows, but long after the roach plague ended, Tien still wrapped her face in a scarf before sleeping.

She thought back to what the guard, Vond, had said about the bangles that Fen had shown him. Maybe Saka and Fen were thieves, caught stealing from the Phan himself. Had she escaped the jail, only to become trapped into something even worse? They both looked kind and seemed nice, but like Fanzine said in her letter, looks could be deceiving.

“What about those bangles? Were they really from the palace?” she asked Saka.

“What, these?” Saka grasped part of the thin belt tied around his waist, the belt that had so annoyed him. He held it up. It was bright yellow and fashioned from thin cords that were braided together. He undid some of the braiding, and then looped three or four sections. He laid them out in his palm, with the excess bits hidden, so she got the full effect. Tien saw how, in the dark, the yellow braiding look a little like gold bracelets. Ingenious, she thought, looking at him in admiration.

Fen skidded up to them. “Let’s go,” she panted, “before the entrance becomes congested.“ Tien looked down the alley. To the left, it ran along the length of the jail, disappearing into the darkness. The distant hum of music and laughter seemed to be coming from the opposite direction, where the lights of Tira glowed over shadowy rooftops.

“We’ll need to head towards an open, crowded place,” said Saka, pointing in the direction of the city. “The first areas the guards will look, will be the shadowy parts of town.”

Tien glanced uncertainly at him. The thought of walking freely through Tira scared her. Surely people would notice them, all grimy and crumpled from sleeping on a jail floor. Tien preferred the idea of keeping to the dark corners, where she at least felt safe. A metallic sound echoed hollowly through the hallway behind them. The clang of rusty metal doors sliding open. Tien jumped.

Fen placed a cool hand on her arm. “It’s alright,” she whispered. “The prisoners are freeing each other.”

“Oh,” said Tien, feeling foolish. Stop being so jumpy, she told herself, or they may strand you here. Saka had started to walk towards the well- lit part of Tira. He motioned for the others to follow. Tien forced her stiff legs to move. She glanced around, her heart thumping. She half expected a gang of Raseen to jump out at any second. Did Saka really know what he was doing?

“What about the other guards?,” Tien whispered. “Won’t they be looking for us soon?”

“No, no one will know we’re gone for hours,” Saka said airily. He sounded so relaxed! “We’ve only been in the jail ten days ourselves,” Fen explained, as they turned into a wider and brighter lane. “But the prisoner in the cell next to us has been there for nearly a year and was most informative. He had been going crazy with boredom, so he began to memorize the wardens’ names and their shift patterns. He discovered that, for ten hours every Friday night, there is only one warden on duty.”

“Oh,” said Tien, to show Fen that she was listening. They turned right, then immediately right again, heading towards the light ahead, like moths to a flame.]

“And at any rate,” said Saka. ”Vond, the guard on duty, will be held responsible when our escape is discovered, and he will not dare to let them know he was outwitted by two girls and a boy.” He gave a scornful laugh. “Nope, he‘ll come up with some story of a revolt, and of being overpowered by half of the prisoners in the jail, blah, blah, blah….“ He looked out at the brighter lights ahead, and stopped. “OK, we are almost there. Let’s make ourselves presentable.”

Saka and Fen took off the cloaks they wore and put them into their packs. Tien watched them and then did the same. Why are these cloaks significant?, she wondered. A Watcher’s cloak, is that what they called the one I’m wearing? What can a Watcher be? She reached a hand to her hair. The tie for her braid hung perilously from a tangle. She rescued it, and then combed her fingers through her hair, doing her best to reconstruct the braid, without the aid of a comb. Her hair felt coarse and filthy from the dirt floor.

Tien pulled a corner of the cloak from of her pack, and moistened it with a couple of drops from her flask. She gingerly sponged her face and neck. The others had obviously prepared earlier for mingling, and didn’t take long. After Tien hoisted her pack back over her shoulder and straightened, the three of them checked each other for missed spots, before moving on.

“Act as though you are enjoying the evening’s entertainments; we want to blend in,” Saka said under his breath.

Fen pulled up abruptly. “Tien,” she said. “Your head. We’d better cover it up, or you’ll be spotted as a Aryk.”

Tien ran a hand over her head, feeling the bristle of her fuzz. “My scarf must have come off in the prison,” she stammered.

Fen rifled through her pack, and brought out a piece of dark fabric. “Shall I do it for you?” Tien nodded and bent her head forward, wincing as the bone at the nape of her neck throbbed in protest. Fen deftly wrapped Tien’s braid in the scarf, which smelled faintly of sandalwood, and tucked in any escaping strands. She finished by draping the ties in such a way, that they covered the mark on her neck. “There, now we both look like peasant girls,” she said, her mouth lifting into a crooked smile.

“Thankyou,” Tien said, smiling. “ I’d forgotten about my hair.” I’m starting to like Fen, she thought. I really hope I can trust her. Saka stood by, clicking his fingers. “Ready?” he asked. The girls nodded. “Well, here goes nothing.”

They began a leisurely stroll. They’d been following the swelling music and laughter, and now the lane opened out onto what appeared to be the town square. Tall lampposts around its perimeter cast a soft, festive glow over the evening’s entertainment.

© 2006 by Shelly Taylor

8. Tira

Flamboyant Tirans strolled along he square’s cobbled expanse. Some browsed, arm in arm. Other stood together in groups, laughing and talking. Artists sketched caricatures of their customers, and musicians played together. Under the spotlight of one large lamp a crowd of big-booted men, arms linked and holding aloft mugs of ale, sang a lively Tiran tune with gusto. They sounded off-key, even to Tien’s unpractised ear, and did not appear to know all the words.

Some young ladies looked on with amusement and applauded their efforts. Tien couldn’t help staring at the dark-haired Tiran girls. One had pinned her hair into a soft knot at the top of her head. The style looked effortless, but Tien was certain it would have taken hours to create, for dozens of colourful beads had been painstakingly woven into it. They glinted and sparkled in the lamplight. Another girl had twisted an elaborate braid around her crown. Her remaining hair bounced in ringlets about her shoulders. Beads, jewels, or flowers adorned each dainty head. Even the girls’ faces were mesmerizing. Twin moons of rouge accentuated high cheekbones. Their lips shimmered crimson. Generously-applied kohl created the illusion of huge, depthless eyes. The Tiran girls dressed simply, wearing cotton shirts and black pants that flared at the bottom. A vivid hand-woven strip of fabric was knotted around each waist.

Like a flock of exotic birds, they preened and giggled, their laughter as pretty and delicate as the tinkle of their bangles. How elegant, thought Tien, gazing enviously at their shining heads, as she walked past the girls. What elaborate patterns in those belts. Papa’s right, they must have such tiny fingers! She snuck a comparative look down at her own broad hands with their squat fingers, before rubbing them self-consciously down her hips. An Aryk’s hands betrayed their heritage as surely as the mark on their necks.

They reached the street vendors, and the sizzle of roasting meat made Tien’s mouth water. As Fen reached into her tunic and pulled out a cloth purse, Tien remembered that she had dropped her own purse when she had been dragged from Eunaat’s cart. It will have been long spent, she thought dismally.

“Three meat pras, please.” Fen told the vendor. She offered a nickel to the woman who stood behind a hot griddle, flipping large thin pancakes.

The woman wiped a hand on her faded apron before taking the coin. She gave the three of them only a cursory glance as she pocketed it. But as her eyes took in the scar that mangled the left side of Fen’s face, her lip curled. She stepped back, widening the gap between them.

“Defects,” she muttered, staring at Fen as though she was a bug she wanted to squash.

Tien recoiled from the hatred in the woman’s voice, horrified at her insolence. Fen didn’t appear to have even heard. She stood still, her expression mild, watching while the woman threaded hot meat from thin metal skewers into the centre of each pancake and rolled them up. Still clucking her tongue disapprovingly, the woman thrust them at her. Fen thanked her politely and then gave one to both Saka and Tien.

They wandered over to an empty bench in a well-lit area. The three of them sat and nibbled the pancake, savouring the treat. “We’ll be on our way soon,” Saka said, through a mouthful of pancake. “But we hope to get a message first.”

Of course, Tien told herself. They have somewhere to go. But what about me, where do I go from here? She sighed, as she felt her stomach begin to churn. It was becoming a familiar sensation. I hope their messenger takes a while to get here, she thought. I need time to make a plan. She licked some of the meat’s juice from her fingers. S

aka turned to face her, and it was then that Tien noticed the three small gold dots on his forehead. She looked over at Fen, who also bore a row of gold dots. The mark of a high caste Tiran, she remembered. Well then, what crime did Saka and Fen commit, for them to be thrown into a common jail?

“Tien, how did you end up in a Tiran jail?,” Saka was asking. His question took her by surprise, and she blinked stupidly at him.

“We are on your side, Tien.” Fen spoke in a soothing voice. She paused to swallow her mouthful. “We are against the changes Phan has brought to Pendelethe.”

Tien nodded. She closed her eyes briefly collecting her thoughts. Then she began to talk about the day of her capture. The words sounded jumbled and unclear to her own ears, but the others listened without interrupting.

“Those Raseen that you met at Pojabe,” said Fen, when Tien had finished. “What were they like?”

An image of the two Raseen arose quite clearly in Tien’s mind. “Well, the Raseen in charge was the nicer of the two,” she said, upon reflection. The other one, Maligo, had seemed to relish the role of inflicting terror. Her flesh crawled at the memory of his blackened eyes and his cruel laughter.

“You wouldn’t happen to remember their names?” Saka asked. Tien stiffened. Although Saka’s tone was casual, Tien sensed that somehow this was a pivotal question. Saka was too interested. But why?

“The officer was called Maligo,” she replied slowly. “But the big one….” She could picture him, leaning over to look at her neck. It was almost as if he’d been shielding her from Maligo’s scrutiny. And then, how was it that he’d missed her mark in full sunlight? Saka had seen it immediately, even in the darkness of their cell? What was his name? It had begun with an R and ended in A. Was it Roona? Roxa?

“Sorry, I don’t remember,” she told Saka, interested to see that his face fell slightly. I have to be careful about revealing what I know, she warned herself, even if it doesn’t seem important.

“Did you get a good look at him?,” Saka persisted.

Tien tried to think strategically. I can describe him perfectly. But is it in my best interest to tell them? Her head was beginning to feel like it was made of stone, and she was struggling to hold it upright. It was hard to resist Saka’s questions.

“He was tall, about your height,” she told him. “He wore a Raseen’s uniform and braids. I remember he was burnt dark from the sun.” She closed her eyes so she could see him in her mind again. There had been something else about the man. What was it? “Gold spots, dark skin” she murmured. And then she remembered. She opened her eyes and looked at them with a satisfied smile. “Red eyebrows. He had red eyebrows.”

“OK, good,” was all Saka said, but Tien did not miss the excited expression in his eyes, or the look that passed between him and Fen. She gazed at them, wondering how they knew of this man, why he was so important. Suddenly a thought came to her; a thought that stood out like a beacon in the thickening fog in her head.

“Was it he who put the cloak on me?” she asked. Saka and Fen exchanged another surprised glance. An approving grin broke over Saka’s face.

“You’re quick,” he said. “And yes, I think he did; in the hope that one of our people would notice you in it.”

“Your people?,” Tien stuttered. Saka and Fen had just claimed to be against Phan’s regime. So how could they be in cahoots with the Raseen. It didn’t make sense. Were Saka and Fen a new breed of Raseen? “Who are you? What does your group…?“

She broke off, as Saka’s expression froze. He was staring at something behind her. Tien’s heart began to thump loudly. Then she saw a smile dimple Saka’s face. “Fen, we’re back on track,” Saka muttered. “Don’t look now, but we have an incoming message around the corner of that house!“

Tien turned to see, but she could not see anything unusual. A message? Where? She fixed her gaze on the house that Saka had pointed out. Several minutes went by. Finally a tiny nose poked out from the side of the house, followed by a pair of black eyes and an open panting mouth. Their eyes met. The startled creature hopped backwards, disappearing from view.

© 2006 by Shelly Taylor

9. A New Direction

“It will be fine.” Saka was telling Fen. “Dogs are common enough in Tira. Let’s get her out.” He leant forward and called softly. “Misty! Here girl.”

Eager eyes peeped around the wall once more. Then, with a joyful bark, the little dog leapt into the air, her paws paddling furiously. Misty’s wagging tail shook her entire body, hindering the progress made by the frantic flapping of her wings. She whined in anticipation as she fluttered down into Saka’s outstretched palm.

“Oh, Misty, ” Saka crooned. The cocker spaniel wriggled in paroxysms of delight, almost falling out of his hand. Tien was enchanted with the dog’s toylike size and tiny golden wings. She put a hand out to pat Misty and received a wet lick. “Where are your snackies, Misty? Where are your snackies?” said Saka, holding his pack open. Misty pricked up her ears, and dived headfirst into the pack. After some vigorous snuffling, she reappeared with a large biscuit grasped awkwardly in her jaws.

While Misty was busy gnawing on her biscuit, Saka fiddled with the jumper fitted snugly around her midriff. He pulled a thin leather pouch from it. There was a note inside which he opened and read, before passing it to Fen.

“Sorry for that interruption, Tien.” Saka turned back to her with a smile. “We must go soon, and we would welcome your company.“ He thrust the last piece of pancake into his mouth, and wiped his lips and fingers with a rag from his pocket. Tien didn’t know whether to be relieved or uneasy at the invitation.

Saka and Fen had treated her kindly, but she sensed that she should still be cautious. She knew that if her head didn’t hurt so badly, she would have been far more wary of her new comrades. As it was, all she wanted to do was curl up on the bench and sleep. Tien struggled to concentrate. Saka wanted to leave me behind not an hour ago, she reasoned, so why is he suddenly asking me to join them?

“I am in your debt,” she said aloud, in what she hoped was a firm voice. “But I should leave Tira before King Phan learns that there is a stray Aryk running around unfettered.” Tien’s voice choked with bitterness, and she swallowed hard. “So, I’ll wish you well,” she continued, trying to speak calmly, “and go on alone.”

Lies, lies, all lies!, she screamed inwardly! I couldn’t last half a day on my own.

Fen’s twisted face lifted into a smile. “Tien, what will you do when someone discovers you are an Aryk?” Her gaze flicked down to Tien’s neck.

Tien touched her mark and scanned the square with worried eyes. She wanted to be somewhere sheltered, safe from possible discovery and recapture. She looked at Fen. It would be so easy to just go with them. Fatigue made her bold and reckless. “How can you help me?,” she asked. “Does your group know why my people have been taken?”

Fen squeezed her top lip gently between her thumb and forefinger. “Not yet, but we will find out,” she said after a moment. “Our group formed after we saw the changes Phan brought to Tira. We became suspicious when Aryks stopped crossing the border. Though I should tell you, Phan has told the Tirans that the Aryks consider themselves to be an elitist tribe. That you chose to keep to yourselves.” Tien pulled a face, but Saka nodded slowly.

“It’s true,” he said. “And you are the first Aryk we have seen in months. The kind Raseen who placed his cloak over you, may be one of our men working undercover.”

Tien’s eyes narrowed. I never said he was kind, she thought; only that he wasn’t vicious. After all, he let Maligo injure me with that weapon of his. Her nerve endings jangled in protest as she shuffled in her seat, trying to find a comfortable position.

Saka was still talking. “His orders were to transport your people to Tira, and from there, they would be moved to an unknown destination. A separate group of Raseen, handpicked by the king himself, is searching all the Aryks’ property.”

Tien strained to hear and absorb what Saka was saying, through the red haze of her headache. It sounded so important, but she couldn’t make sense of it. She closed her eyes against the glare of the lamp overhead, then forced them open. Saka didn’t appear to notice her drooping eyelids. He looked across at her, his smile kind. “Tien, it seems that you are the only Aryk who has escaped. And we’d like to help you keep it that way.”

Tien managed a wan smile in return, but shook her head. “I just want my family back.”

“Yes.” Saka nodded solemnly. “But that will take time. And it will take the work of people like our Raseen. Misty here,” he patted her soft head, “is a messenger dog, and we’ve gotten word that our Raseen is meeting tonight with others in the Watch. That’s the name of our group,” he explained for Tien’s benefit. “Will you come with us?” He picked up Misty’s squirming body and popped her into his pack.

Tien knew that her mind was already made up. Her family could still be alive. Now she had a starting point, a place to begin her search for them. And what other options were there? “Yes,” she said. “I’ll come. I have no where else to go.” She cringed. How ungrateful she sounded.

“Great news!” Saka stretched his arms up high over his head, locking his hands together, his palms pressed out. “Well, we should go. Are you ready to lead the way, Fen?” Fen nodded. Saka rose to his feet, wincing slightly as he moved muscles that had been dormant for days. “All right, lets go.”

Tien stood up slowly and looked around the plaza. It was a hive of activity. Large wooden tables had been dragged out from the inns and bistros. People sat around them, eating and enjoying the entertainers who used the square as their stage. A troupe of Tiran gypsies stomp-danced to the rousing music of steel drums and a motori; an instrument made from metal straps attached to a soundboard. The melody was sweet and sad.

Tien was surprised to find herself blinking back tears. She longed to stay and lose herself in the music. To forget the last few days. She sighed as they began to walk.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

Fen answered in a low voice. “To an inn on the other side of the Quarter. The others are meeting us there.”

The little energy Tien still had was sapped by Fen’s words. She remembered Fanzine’s description of the Quarter in her letter. I don’t want to go there, she thought, with a heavy heart. I can’t bear to see more misery. She closed her eyes briefly and pictured Haim as she’d last seen him, his face sticky with orange juice, laughing at Graic’s jokes. Sweet, pesky Haim. Please let him not be hurt or frightened. Please.

Tien stumbled. All she wanted to do was sleep. Her head craved a soft pillow. They were heading north of the prison. Close to the city centre, the lanes were lined with uniform mud brick houses. Yellow light glowed comfortingly though muslin curtains. Fen led the way at a casual pace, but with confidence; turning this way and that, skirting the main routes. As they went on, the lanes narrowed. Fewer lamposts lit the way. Pretty, cobbled paths gave way to plain paving. The three of them strode silently through the deserted streets.

Then all at once, they turned up a wide street and stumbled upon life again. Most of this street’s lamps had been shattered. The three companions stepped carefully through the darkness. Several shadowy figures loitered against a high wall. The wall ran along the left side of the street and cordoned off an area at least three blocks long. Its appearance was not unlike the prison; whitewashed, with broken glass shards cemented in along its ridge.

A mammoth wrought-iron gate, set into the wall, was ajar. The individuals who stood against the wall said nothing and made no move to hinder them, but their presence felt menacing. Fen walked purposefully past them, through the gates. Saka and Tien followed, gazing curiously around at the interior of the Quarter.

© 2006 by Shelly Taylor

10. the Quarter

Hidden by trees and shadows, a slight figure crept stealthily after them. Her tiny hands fluttered unceasingly, picking at her face, scratching her scalp and skin. When the others passed through the gate of the Quarter, the girl slunk over to a lonely section of the wall. She leapt easily over it, landing like a cat on the other side. The girl continued to tail the companions. All the while, she sang softly under her breath, at times gulping back a giggle, but more often stifling sobs.

***
Flaming torches had been thrust into the gaping holes where lampposts had once stood. There were no intact buildings. Just skeletal shells and piles of rubble where a dwelling or shop had once existed. This is complete devastation, Tien thought, looking at the debris around her. The King must be insane to make his people exist like this. Open fires blazed all along the centre of the street where they were walking. People stood or crouched around the flames, holding their hands to the warmth. No heads turned to look at the three strangers, but Tien felt like an intruder in their silent world. She averted her eyes as they passed by, and tried to concentrate on stepping around the blankets that chequered the road.

Many children were already asleep in these makeshifts beds. Tien felt a pang of sorrow, wondering if someone loved them here in the Quarter. Fen walked swiftly on, plunging them deep into the core of the Quarter. Everywhere Tien looked, ragged humans filled the streets. Hundreds of faces flickered in the glow of the fires. Every lane and alley seethed quietly with life, like worms in mud. So many of them, Tien thought, but I’m not afraid of them. I feel as if I’m back in jail, looking at the prisoners. Even though there are no bars here, this is one big dungeon.

At last they walked through another set of metal gates, the back entrance of the Quarter, and Fen pointed across the road, to where cheerful lamplight glowed from a rustic building. The sign swinging overhead proclaimed it to be Green Moon Inn.

“Well done, Fen. We truly would have been lost without you as a guide.” Saka didn’t disguise the relief in his voice. He ducked his head to avoid the low beam as they entered the inn.

Its interior was cosy and clean, but empty of patrons. Only a musician sat, waiting for an audience, his motori propped up against his chair. A woman looked up from behind the counter. She was young, but her brow was prematurely furrowed and her mouth had a grim set to it. Saka paid for a room, under the common Tiran name, Tose.

The woman accepted the two coppers he handed her, and turned to pull a key from a rack on the wall. She stared insolently at Fen’s face for a moment. Getting no response from Fen, she dropped her gaze, and handed Saka the key and a lantern that was already lit.

“Up the stairs, first on the right,” she muttered, waving vaguely at a narrow staircase behind her.

The second floor housed six rooms, three on either side of the narrow stuffy corridor. By the time they reached their room, Tien was spent. Her temples throbbed dizzyingly. The nerve endings down her spine felt raw and bruised. She leaned her cheek against the wall, grateful for its cold smoothness, as Saka put the lantern down and bent to unlock the door to their room. My head, Tien thought dimly. I can scarcely think.

Saka pushed the door open with his foot. “Hold on,” he said, letting Misty out of his pack. “I’ll climb onto this stool and put the lamp up.” He hung the lamp from a hook in the ceiling. Their shadows flickered erratically around the walls, as the lantern swung.

Tien sank onto a bed and looked around the cold room with bleary eyes. Four single beds jutted out from one wall. A low table, and two stools stood in the far corner. A frayed rug covered an inadequate area of the floorboards. The fireplace had no wood. Fen perched on the bed next to Tien, patting Misty with absent-minded strokes. “Well,’ she yawned, as the little dog snuggled into her lap. “ Let’s try to get some sleep, while we wait for the others.”

The room spun around Tien. She was barely aware of Fen bending over her. She heard voices that sounded like gentle rainfall on a roof.
“Should have known she needed…”
“…..get some water”
“…no crush it up as best you can, or she’ll choke.”

A spoon was pressed to her lips. Tien choked down a dusty tasting mixture, shaking her head against the offered cup of water. Someone placed a cloth on her forehead, and then Tien’s eyelids shut out Saka and Fen’s blurred shapes. As she drifted into oblivion, Tien’s mind swam with the faces of Mama, Eunaat, Graic, Papa, Renda, and Maligo. Everyone was speaking at the same time, his or her separate voices meshing into one head-splitting drone. Their faces stretched and blurred, like hot candy being pulled for cooling.

© 2006 by Shelly Taylor

11. The Watch

Tien woke with a start to gentle tapping at the door. She lay there blinking, unsure of where she was, until she looked across and saw the silhouettes of Fen and Saka sitting up in their beds. Tien raised herself up onto her elbows and discovered that her headache was gone. She yawned and rubbed her neck, finding it still a little tender. The musician downstairs seemed to have gained an appreciative audience. The steady pulse of his motori floated up to them.

A second soft knock sounded. In a swift movement, Saka crossed over to the door, and mumbled something through it that Tien couldn’t make out. The muffled response must have been to his satisfaction, for he immediately swung the door open. A flock of cloaked figures filed in, dwarfing the room.

“It is good to see you”, Saka said, shutting the door after them. He beamed as he clasped the hands of each in turn. “Misty did herself proud to sniff us out!”

“Fen!” One of the visitors wrapped Fen into a tight embrace.

Tien’s bed was the furthest from the door, so nobody noticed her at first. She sat still and hunched over, looking on as the friends reunited. She realized that her knees had come up and that she was hugging them against her chest, as though, subconsciously, she was trying to hide. One by one, the strangers became aware of her. The room fell silent. Tien shifted awkwardly, wishing that she really could disappear. Although cloaks still shrouded the newcomer’s faces, it was clearly she who had intruded.

“Where are my manners?“ Saka’s hearty voice broke the silence. “Allow me to introduce Tien, a young Aryk lady. We had the good fortune to meet her at our last lodgings.“ He chortled at his own wit.

“You have seen proof of this, Saka?” The man who asked was still shadowed by his cloak.

“Ah.... the mark? Yes.” Saka beckoned for Tien to come and stand under the lamp. She reluctantly stepped forward, and Saka turned the flame up, tilting her face towards the light. The visitors closed in. Like a flock of vultures considering their dinner, Tien fumed, as they scrutinized the plum-coloured mark under her jaw. It burned under their inspection, and Tien scowled at Saka. “Proof enough?” Saka looked around at each of the Watch members, gauging their response to Tien. “She was missed by the Raseen, although I think we have you to thank for that, Renda.“

Tien’s head snapped around at the name. She saw that one man had not come close to look at her. He had thrown back his hood, revealing a familiar head of black plaits that were damp with sweat. His brown eyes were no longer blackened, nor were his teeth. Tien could see tiny smile lines crinkling the corners of his eyes. She would never have recognised Renda, but for his distinctive red eyebrows. He took her hand, gripping it in a firm handshake.

“I am Renda.” he said, “ I’m pleased to meet you under kinder circumstances. We are doing all we can to learn where your people have been taken, and for what purpose.” Tien glanced up at him.

“So you put my pack on me?” she asked. He nodded. “Thankyou,” Tien whispered. “I am grateful.” Tears choked her voice and threatened to fall. She blinked rapidly, determined that no one should see her face turn red and splotchy. Renda smiled at her, and waved a hand towards the frail balding man next to him. “Tien, this is Noth.”

Noth stepped forward and bowed formally over Tien’s hand. He wore an anxious expression, rather like a bloodhound waiting on an overdue dinner. Noth’s delicate eyebrows convulsed for about the sixth time, since Tien had noticed him. “How d’you do?,” he murmured.

A sweet-faced girl about Tien’s age was next. It was she who had been so pleased to see Fen. “I’m Mirello, Tien. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Mirello cradled Misty in her arms like a baby, and rubbed her face against the dog’s silky head. Misty practically purred with contentment. “You my widdle booboo, aren’t you, darling Mistywisty,” Mirello cooed into the dog’s soft ear. “Yes you are; yes you are.” Misty licked her nose and Mirello threw back her dark head with a boisterous laugh, exposing a mouthful of small, even teeth. The little dog jumped at the noise and gave a reproving yap. Mirello put her hand on the shoulder of the slender girl next to her.

The girl pushed back her hood. She was the zenith of Tiran perfection. “Let me introduce the enchanting Berry,” Mirello said, patting Berry’s shoulder affectionately, “who does not approve of baby talk to animals. And probably not to babies either, for that matter!” Berry’s black curls were piled high, and her mouth stained deep red, as though she’d been eating raspberries. She regarded Tien impassively with oval eyes that shone like liquid chocolate against the smooth caramel of her skin.

Her name suits her, Tien thought, as she murmured an awkward ‘hello’. She ducked her head to break contact with Berry’s unblinking gaze, and reached a hand up to her own hair. She was suddenly conscious of her tousled braid, and the growing pimple on her chin. 'It hurts,' Tien muttered under her breath, 'so no doubt it is glowing like one of the volcanos of Luuon'.

Baran, a tall sinewy man, flashed a cheery smile. His teeth gleamed brilliantly in his black face. With introductions over, everyone sat down on the edge of a bed, or on the stools, and the serious talking began. Fen turned to Mirello who sat next to her on her bed. “Mirello, have you any news on where Andron may have been taken?” she asked.

“No. But you can begin your search for him.” Mirello’s face lit up and she spoke eagerly. “I tracked down the mother of Flip, Andron’s apprentice.” She glanced around at her friends. “Flip, as you know, was with Andron when he was captured. He may be able to help us. He’s hiding in Pasco. His mother gave me his address.” She passed a small piece of paper across to Fen. “Memorize it, then burn it, dadadada-da; you know the drill. It is a mercy that Flip wasn’t capt… “

“Andron!” Tien interrupted without thinking. ”As in, King Phan’s herbalist? Wasn’t he banished for trying to poison the king?”

“That is what the people of Pendelethe have been told.” Fen agreed. “Oh.” Tien wished she’d waited till the others had gone, to ask the question. “But it is a lie,” Fen continued. “Saka and I uncovered new information about Andron’s kidnapping. That is how we came to meet you, Tien.”

“And?” Renda perched awkwardly on the edge of his tiny stool. “What did you learn?”

“Not good news, I’m afraid. As we feared, Phan is just the tip of the iceberg. The truth, in its entirety, is far more disturbing.” Every one sat still, listening. Fen made eye contact with each one as she spoke. “Our king is being deceived and manipulated by his new medical advisor, Wiggo. Saka and I were intercepting a message from Wiggo to Thorasco when we were caught. Some of you may have heard of Thorasco. He is the Emperor of Malak.”

“Malak?” Noth’s mouth worked as he thought. “Really? But Malak is an insignificant island on the other side of the globe. And it’s in bad shape, if the sailors’ tales are true.” He seemed unaware of his dancing eyebrows. “Half the year they are plagued by unforgiving heat. Then there is their bitter winter. The Malak’s sold most of their livestock to our merchants, because they have run out of room to accommodate them. See, they live in underground caverns, while the surface of their land is uninhabitable. Malak would not be a wealthy or powerful empire by anyone’s standards.”

Uninhabitable! Tien smothered a smile. Noth is so definitely a Pascan, she thought.

“That could make their ruler all the more determined and ruthless in order to attain those things,” Saka countered. “Who knows what his motivation is. But we need to learn more. We didn’t have time to decipher the whole note. It was addressed to Thorasco, and it was coded, so the deciphering took time. The letter mentioned ‘a source of quartz juice’. Is that right Fen?”

Fen nodded. “It also talked of the ‘Thelpy tablets’, which Renda can tell us about. At the end, it went something like, ‘it is all going to plan, and Phan is none the wiser’.

Renda whistled softly. “So one evil is using another, unsuspecting evil to do his dirty work? But we have no idea what?”

“That’s it in a nutshell, Renda. We must learn more about Malak and the significance of quartz juice. And why Sounds like your forte, my man.” He tipped his head in the direction of Noth, who flushed, and sat a little straighter on his stool.

“So,” Fen concluded. “We have come back with more questions than answers…” She broke off, leaning towards Mirello with a worried look. “Are you all right Mirry? You’re white as a sheet.”

Mirello managed a feeble smile. “I’m alright,” she said fanning the air dismissively. “It’s just…it’s become complex all of a sudden, hasn’t it? And we are so few.”

The group sobered. They sat in silence for a time, each lost in their own thoughts. “Well the good news is that we weren’t questioned when we were caught.” Saka piped up. “The guards mistook us for a couple of Quarter wretches, trying to steal from the royal kitchen. We played along. In fact I put on a rather spectacular show of being a few bananas short of a bunch, wouldn’t you say, Fen?”

“Oh.” Fen looked surprised. “Were you acting, Saka?” She smiled as Saka staggered about dramatically, before pulling the imaginary dagger from of his back.

“You wound me, Fen,” he said in an aggrieved tone, as the others burst out laughing.

These are nice, kind people, Tien thought, looking around at them. But I must find out more about what they do; what their plans are. She cleared her throat. “Did you form this group to get rid of Wiggo?” she asked no one in particular.

“Oh, no,” Renda answered. “Things in Tira had begun to change well before Wiggo even arrived.” He paused. “As each day passes, Tiaran standards of beauty and perfection become increasingly difficult to attain,” Renda continued, his face twisting with emotion. “And now, we ourselves are works of art. We base our worth on pure facade.” Renda’s voice croaked, and Tien saw that his eyes were damp. “We’ve gone mad.“

Baran was immediately at his side, draping a comforting arm around his shoulders. Renda made no move to shrug him off. ”Phan is a very bad man,” Baran told Tien as he patted Renda. He shook his head sadly. “And many of Pendelethe is becoming like he.”

Tien adored the foreign lilt in Baran’s accent. Pendelethe’s three tribes spoke Tiran, but some of the Aryks and Pascans in remote coastal regions had developed dialects of their own. “You asked why we formed this group, Tien,” said Saka, while Renda regained his composure.

“Several of us were openly against Phan’s silent ‘Quarter’ initiative. Then when Wiggo slithered into the palace, we began to suspect that something more sinister than Phan’s schemes was being orchestrated. We formed an official group and went underground.”

“What use am I to your group?,” Tien asked slowly, her heart thudding with nerves. There was never going to be a perfect time to ask. “I mean, why am I here?”

Berry pursed her lips. ”That’s what I want to know,” she said, looking at Saka with narrowed eyes.

It was Renda who answered. “She is the first Aryk we’ve seen in a year,” he said, addressing Berry, who sat across the table from him. “Tien, you can help your people,” he continued, turning to her. “You have a wealth of knowledge about Aryk culture that can assist with the debriefing process. That is, once we find your people and begin to wean them off the Thelpy.”

Fen saw the confusion in Tien’s face and said. “Explain what the Thelpy tablets do, Renda. We don’t know.”

“What…? Oh, sorry.” Renda cleared his throat. “The Aryks have been force fed Thelpy tablets. The Thelpy works like a truth drug. “But that means they are alive.”

Hope flared in Tien’s eyes. “It proves my family is alive.”

“Yes, they are most certainly alive. We just don’t know where. The Raseen have orders to question them,” Renda assured her. He raised his thick eyebrows. “I hope to be selected to help with the questioning. That is my task.”

Tien grinned at Renda. Now that she had real hope of seeing her family again, the weight of the past days seemed to melt away. Relief made her light headed.

“And our task is to find Andron, hopefully with the help of his apprentice Flip,” said Saka. He’d jumped off his seat on the bed and begun to move around the room, stretching his arms. “Andron must have discovered Wiggo’s secret alliance, so Wiggo needed him gone. And we believe that Andron has the antidote to Wiggo’s Thelpy tablets.” “So we’ll find Andron, and get the antidote,” Tien asked Saka, as he came back to sit on the bed opposite her. “And by that time my people should have been found?”

“Couldn’t have summed it up better myself,” said Saka. “Come on now, Tien. Have you any better offers coming in?” He tipped an inquiring head sideways at her. Tien pulled a face and smiled at him, before nodding. She glanced around at the others to see what they thought of her joining them. Mirello, Fen and the men smiled back at her, though Noth managed to look worried at the same time. Berry sat with her eyes closed, clicking her perfect nails on the table.

“Well then, that’s settled. So you will take Tien with you to Pasco?” Renda asked Fen and Saka. They nodded as one. “And remember, Berry joins you on this leg of the journey, as we planned?” His tone was hesitant.

Tien’s smile vanished. Oh no! she groaned inwardly. Any one, but Berry. She felt her good mood souring. It would have been a pleasant, easy journey with just Saka and Fen as companions. Fen nodded, her expression mild. Saka snuck a quick look at Berry from under hooded lashes. Berry shrugged.

“Fine by me. I hope I can keep up,” she murmured, biting her bottom lip. There was insolence in her tone, and an undercurrent of tension in the room that Tien sensed, but did not understand.

“Good, “ said Renda. “Now, Noth has some news fr… "

He stopped as Noth raised a cautionary finger to his lips. They strained to hear. The clamour of the Green Moon’s patrons had stilled. Renda gestured silently for Mirello to go to the window.

“Are any Tiran erenraps tethered outside the inn?,” he whispered. The blood had drained from his face, revealing a generous smattering of freckles. His eyebrows stood out like ginger caterpillars. “How could they know where we are?,” Renda muttered.

Mirello sidled along the wall and moved the curtain aside a fraction, so she could see down to the street. She sucked in a sharp breath and dropped the curtain. “Four of them,” she hissed. “We need to go. Now!”

© 2006 by Shelly Taylor

12.. Flight

Mirello was already in motion. Tien leapt to her feet, uncertain of what to do. She saw that the others were slipping the belts from around their tunics. Tien watched in surprise as, with a neat flick of Fen’s wrist, the three braids of her belt unravelled to form a single strand. Noth, Baran, Renda, and Mirello huddled together. With fluid, practised movements, they somehow connected the strands from their belts, creating one long thin cord. Saka, Fen and Berry did the same with their belts, and then Renda and Saka opened the windows. By some means, each of the men attached the end of their cord to a windowsill. The cords stuck, holding firm against the testing tugs they were given.

Fen was beside Tien. “We must slide down these ropes and be gone before the Raseen come up,” she murmured in Tien’s ear. “The cord is thin, but it will hold your weight easily. Wrap your scarf around your hands like this, so you don’t get rope burn.” She held out her own bound palms to show Tien. “Saka will go first; next you and Berry. I will go last. We need to hurry,” she added unnecessarily over her shoulder, before crossing back to the window.

The other group gave a fleeting wave of farewell, and began their descent out one window. Tien pulled the scarf from around her head, as she walked her jellied legs over to where Saka was sitting on their window ledge. Saka twisted around to face the wall, and then he was gone. Tien leant over the sill. She watched him sail down the rope and land softly onto the street. Tien’s mind whirled. It was all happening so fast. She fastened her scarf around one hand, and gingerly lifted herself up to sit on the edge of the sill. She ventured another peek down. The ground was so far away! She was so high up!

Tien closed her eyes to the dizzying sight. She arched herself back against the safety of the window sill, gripping the ledge with white-knuckled fingers. I can’t, she thought in a panic. I tried, but I cannot go out that window. But if I don’t, I’ll be facing the Raseen. Alone. Tien shivered. She glanced over at the other window, in time to see their final person Renda, going down.

The stairs outside creaked under the muffled tread of footsteps, sending a rush of adrenalin coursing through Tien’s veins. Propelled into motion, she reached for the cord that dangled between her legs and gave it an experimental tug. It held firm. She looked over the ledge and saw Saka, peering up from the shadows. He was motioning frantically for her to come down. “What if my weight dislodges the cord? I’ll fall,” she muttered in a low wail.

“Please,” a voice hissed in her ear. “Please tell me that you are not a molly-coddled Aryk princess that has to be carried all the way to Pasco. Come back in.” Berry stood behind her. Tien was too stunned to protest. In her all-consuming fear, she had been oblivious to anyone else in the room. She clambered back over the sill, under Berry’s impatient gaze, and fell clumsily back into the room. The humiliation! she groaned inwardly, feeling like a giant. But there is now way I can go down that rope.

“Watch carefully this time,” Berry said, swinging her legs over the sill. She flipped herself around to face Tien briefly, before sliding smoothly down to Saka. Fen came back to stand alongside Tien. She motioned for her to go next.

A soft rap at the door spared Tien from answering. A deceptively polite rap. The two women froze. An icy shiver of dread tingled down Tien’s spine. Through a panicked blur, as if in slow motion, both she and Fen moved out onto the window ledge as one. Together, they grasped the rope and shimmied down. Tien’s insides lurched as the earth rushed up to meet them. They landed with a thud and rolled onto their backs. Tien sat up immediately. For a moment she stayed like that, light-headed and breathless; grinning helplessly. But there was no time to marvel in her accomplishment. Saka hauled them both to their feet. He grabbed the end of the cord, and with a flick, it came away from the window. He rolled it up, clumsy in his haste, and pocketed it. Tien looked around for the other group, but they had already melted away into the night.

A splintering crash above them, shattered the silence. Tien spun around and looked up to the window. They’ve broken the door down. Rasping voices grunted in surprise. She could hear the scrape of furniture as the Raseen searched the room. Fen grabbed her. The four of them pressed themselves flat against the other side of the wall. Several Raseen leaned their big braided heads out the window, muttering oaths. After looking carefully up and down the street, they disappeared from view, and moments later, Tien could hear them stomping down the stairs. The companions gazed at one another as though they were frozen to the spot. Berry broke the spell.

“Lets take their goats!,” she cried, gesturing wildly at the beasts. ”We’ll never outrun them otherwise. Erenraps are swift. If the child cannot ride a goat.” She nodded over at Tien, as if she couldn’t hear, “we can take three, and she can ride behind one of us. Come on!” They sprinted over to the enormous goats, which stood, tethered to a post opposite the inn.

Child!, Tien shrieked at Berry, in her head. How dare you presume to know what I can or cannot do. At that moment, her fury at Berry surpassed her fear of the Raseen. It would have been satisfying to see Berry trip over, or slip off as she mounted her goat. But Tien knew it was unlikely. Those were everyday occurrences for herself, not Tiran beauty queens.

The Raseen spilled out of the inn. When they saw that their goats had been untethered by their intended victims, they broke into a run; screaming with a ferocity that even Tien had not seen before. Flee, she told herself. Mount the goat, and flee. But her legs had seized up. They would not obey the frantic message her mind was relaying. Fen pushed her up onto a goat with strong arms. She placed the reins placed into her hands. Tien glanced over her shoulder. The Raseen were so close, she could see their black teeth bared, and smell the rancid odour of their unwashed uniforms.

Fen urged her beast over to nudge Tien’s. “Gidlopa! “ she commanded with a hoarse shout. The goats lurched off into the night, fast reaching a canter.

In truth, Tien had only ridden about four times in her life, and never on a goat this size, or on one bred for speed. She gripped the reins, leaning her chest close to the goat’s back. Her eyes watered in the breeze, but she kept them open. She could see the others ahead, racing down the long lane in single file. The Raseen’s angry shouts faded into an insignificant babble, as the gap between them widened. Soon all Tien could hear was the drumming of the goat’s hooves on the road. She blinked dimly, trying to make out the jolting shapes of the others just ahead. The goats trotting through narrow lanes and skidding round corners onto wider streets for what seemed like ages.

They left Tira behind and were soon racing along a paved road. Tien willed herself to stay awake, as they galloped steadily through the remainder of the night. It was only as dawn crept its first pale fingers of sunlight over the horizon, that the Erenraps slowed to a canter and then to a steady walk. Finally Saka nudged his goat off the main road. The others followed him into a wood that stretched out to their left. Once they were concealed from the road, the weary riders dismounted and took the saddles off their grazing beasts. Tien discreetly watched, and then copied the rubdown Fen gave her goat. Berry’s harsh words still echoed in her mind, and Tien was determined not to incur any more of her scorn. In fact, she reflected, it is a shame that Berry has joined us at all.

© 2006 by Shelly Taylor

13.the Journey Begins

They set up camp by a dwindling riverbed. The goats drank from the thin stream that trickled through it and grazed along the grassy bank. Fen placed blankets over four piles of bracken she had gathered for bedding. Saka crouched over the beginnings of a fire. Tien trudged into the wood with Berry to collect wild spinach for soup. She had Fen’s leather pouch slung over her shoulder. Berry strode several paces in front of her. Tien followed uncertainly for a time, knee-deep in undergrowth, before branching off on her own. I get the hint, she thought, glaring at Berry’s back. I’m inferior and you want nothing to do with me. Well, fine by me.

Years earlier, on the day they moved to Panzaar, Papa sent Tien to market to buy some bread. A group of children playing on the street had halted their game to stare at her. Behind concealing hands, they murmured to each other. Tien caught fragments of their whispered cruelty; words that made her cheeks flame with humiliation. She had stumbled home empty handed, with her head down.

I refuse to feel like that again, Tien told herself firmly. No more head down in shame for me. I’ll just put her in my story. She’ll have body odour and an overbite. Remembering how her precious pages had shrivelled, blackened and finally crumbled softly into ash, as the flames devoured them, Tien winced. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. Dins Hallow and those who live there are all still alive in my memory. One day I will have all the paper I want in the world. Then I will write it over again, every magical adventure. But now, spinach.

She scanned the greenery for the long-stemmed vegetable. Fen had described it in great detail. Further in, Berry crowed as she dangled her first stalk in the air like a trophy. Tien rolled her eyes and moved away. She began to look in earnest. Wretched spinach. How hard can it be to find? If only Graic were here. Carefully avoiding the nettles, she brushed ferns and shrubs aside. A myriad of plants flourished in wood’s damp soil. At first glance they all looked alike. Nothing appeared to be edible. Then Tien spied a thick stem, hung heavy with broad sage leaves.

Spinach. With an inward sigh of relief, she cut her first stalk and stashed it into the bag. Finally, a task I won’t fail. A haze of sunshine streamed through the ceiling of leaves, casting dappled light over the vegetation. It reminded Tien of the orchard, the morning she had left. Mama had made apple tarts the night before. Papa planned to grill his citrus-soaked lamb steaks for dinner. Tien closed her eyes and imagined succulent meat; the tarts’ crisp pastry. Hunger clenched her stomach in a growling knot. Her shoulders slumped. Two handfuls of spinach will hardly touch the sides of my stomach, let alone satisfy the four of us. There has be something else that is edible and filling. Tien looked around her. Clusters of mushrooms sprouted at the base of a tree. They looked harmless, but then what would an Aryk know? The local species were poisonous, so they never developed a taste for them. And if these mushrooms were safe, Fen would have suggested them.

Tien noticed a large-leafed plant, nearly obscured by ferns. She glanced back over her shoulder. Berry sat under a tree. She had styled her hair and somehow reapplied her makeup. Her head was down, absorbed in creating a daisy chain Tien crouched over the plant. Its heart-shaped leaves nodded on long stalks. The plant’s garish yellow flower with a purple heart was familiar. Had Graic shown one to her? He had always been a keen adventurer. He would camp in the Betuinn wilderness for days at a time, surviving only on the natural ingredients around him. Once, Mama had persuaded Graic to take Tien along for an overnight camp. He was furious at having to share his special place. Tien had walked silently beside him as he complained and sulked in turn. He constructed a shelter, a fire, and gathered ingredients for dinner in silence, Tien struggling to help. After she ate a second helping of his stew, Graic relented. He brought her back to the wilderness three more times.

And this plant Tien was staring at, looked like taro, whose root Graic often used in his stew. Isn’t taro a tropical plant? Can it grow this far inland? She wasn’t sure, but in the end, Tien surrendered to her hunger. If I’m wrong and look foolish, at least I tried. Grasping the plant around the base of the stalk, she pulled hard. Plump tubers surfaced, crusted with moist earth. She tapped them against her leg. Taro. What a find! By the time Berry was standing up, Tien had collected five taro roots. She couldn’t bear the silence as they walked back together.

“Did you find much spinach?”

Berry’s eyes widened, her expression a caricature of surprise. “That’s why we came, isn’t it?” she said. “I was picking spinach the entire time, so I suppose that means I have a bag full.”

She strode on ahead. Unbelievable!, Tien thought, trudging back to camp in Berry’s wake. Berry thrust her bag at Saka, and flung herself onto the warm grass. She lay back, her eyes closed. Saka stirred a tin that hung over the fire.

“Good job, girls,” he said, looking at the lumpy bag that Tien still held. “Else we’d be dining on diluted fish water. There are two dried fish left, and we need to leave one for tomorrow’s main meal. Pasco is another day’s journey from here. We’ll stock up our supplies there.” He smiled at Tien. “You must find it strange talking about breakfast as dinner, and travelling at night.”

“Ummm.” Tien held out her bag awkwardly. “I feel a bit silly now,” she said, speaking in a low voice so Berry could not overhear. “But I found some roots that I think might be taro.”

Berry snorted. “In tune with nature are you, Tooen?” she drawled, without opening her eyes. “That’s sweet. You remind me of my father’s old valet. He fancied himself to be a ‘hunter and gatherer’. Picked some wild mushrooms that he thought might be flavoursome. Tragically, he never got the chance to tell us how they tasted. May his soul be at peace.” Her voice trembled with suppressed laughter.

Stung, Tien flared, “Alright then. I know this is taro. It can be boiled, mashed, roasted, fried into chips…” She knew she should stop, but words continued to tumble out of her mouth. “It is full of protein, travels well in a pack, and …” “Alright, alright. Steady,” Berry’s hands fluttered up in surrender. “You are quite the forest nymph, alright?”

Tears of fury sprang in Tien’s eyes. It is not all right. It is downright infuriating. I itch to smack the sneer right off her face! And Tooen! Who is Tooen?

Saka looked up from inspecting the roots, his brow raised. “Well, well,” he said, “You’re right.“ He grinned at her. ”We’ll get Fen to confirm it, but I feel certain our stomachs will not rumble tonight!”

Being right, Tien noted, is more satisfying than delivering a smack, and produces the same effect.

© 2006 by Shelly Taylor

14. Verigan Forest

“Are they talking yet?”

“Talking?” The guard stared at the king’s emissary with wild, panicked eyes. He jabbed a finger towards the haphazard rows of people slumped on the earth before them. “Look at them! Do they look up to having a chat? Let us see what this one has to say, shall we?”

He grasped an old man by his shoulder, pulling him upright from a foetal crouch. Groaning, the man squinted through pouchy lids. His bottom lip drooped like a wet slug. The guard blew a gust of his breath into the withered face. The man’s eyelids quivered and the corners of his mouth twitched. “The tapestries,” the guard shouted into the old man’s bristly ear. “Do you know where the tapestries are? No, don’t go back to sleep.” He sent a meaningful look in the emissary’s direction, before he continued. “Can you tell me of any tapestries? Tapestries?” But the man’s breathing had already slowed. He snored gently.

“Ahhh!” The guard let him flop back onto the ground. “Get the idea, man?,” he growled. “Or shall I try another?” He reached for a young woman who slumped forward like a wilting flower, but the alarmed emissary restrained him. The lamps set into the cavern wall fickered. “You see how futile it is?,” said the guard, almost shrieking. “The Thelpy’s effect is too potent. Wiggo, the expert, should be here, showing us what to do. We haven’t had a glimpse of him.”

“So what do I tell the king?” Anxiety furrowed the emissary’s brow.

The guard choked back a hysterical laugh, as he surveyed the dreamless sleepers. The chest of each one rose and fell at a different pace; some rapid and shallow, others slow and even. Their muted rhythms seemed to reverberate around the cavern, like a nightmarish shop of clocks, ticking. “Tell the king that we need more time. Tell him that we are going crazy here, trying to do his bidding. Tell him whatever you like. Just make sure he knows that it is Wiggo who needs to be here, and he is not.”

“Did I hear my name being taken in vain?” Both men started, as a midget of a man glided in, a white robe engulfing his small frame. His head shone like a pink pearl in the lamplight. His only claim to hair was the moustache-less fuzz around his plump jaw line, and the white tufts that sat neatly over each ear like snow capped mountains. “I’ve been quite run off my feet, attending to other of the king’s business,” he said smoothly. There was no apology in his tone. He gazed about the room with detached interest, his bright eyes missing nothing. The guard’s shoulders visibly slumped, as several days’ worth of tension left them.

“Overdosed them, it would seem,” Wiggo murmured. He pursed his full pink mouth. “Well it won’t have any long term effects. They should be ready for questioning in a week or so. No need to trouble King Phan with details,” he continued. A grimace wrinkled his face. “So please tell his Majesty that everything is coming along nicely.”

The emissary nodded stiffly before stalking out of the room. Wiggo watched him leave, and then turned back to the scene before him. He cocked a reproachful eye towards the guard. “You lot are responsible for giving them too much of the Thelpy,” he said. “All we can do is wait for the deep sleep to wear off enough to render them speech and dreams. Call me when they start to sleep-walk and talk.” He turned on his heel, cutting off with a firm wave of his hand, a stream of protests from the disbelieving guard. “Call me then and not before.”

***


The companions woke as dusk fell. Fen handed round hunks of chethra, a sweetened breakfast bread. They munched in silence, watching the sinking sun sap the last flush of its brilliance from of the sky. The air grew crisp. Tien pulled her cloak out and draped it over her shoulders. It was only as they packed up their camp, that she noticed that the goats were gone. She glanced around for them discreetly, not wanting to look ignorant.

“I had to let them go.” Tien turned around to see Fen standing behind her. “They’ll make their way back to their owners. It’s a shame, but goats, especially erenraps, are rarely used by common folk around Tira. We would be remembered. To get to Pasco safely, we need to be invisible.”

“Uh huh.”

Fen fiddled with the ties of her scarf. “Tonight we will pass through the Verigen Forest, just beyond these woods. See where the trees begin to thicken on the other side of the stream? There?” Tien nodded as she followed Fen’s finger with her eyes. “That is where it begins. Verigan Forest is off the main road to Pasco, and it will provide us good cover. We want to avoid a repeat of last night.”

As Fen spoke, Tien’s eyes strayed to the scars on her face, where the skin was uneven and mottled. How did she get those injuries? Maybe an accident, years ago. She seems oblivious to the scarring, as if she does not realize that her face is so twisted. Fen turned back, and caught Tien staring. She raised a protective hand to her scars. Colour burned her cheeks and she dropped her gaze. “I filled your flask with water. It‘s next to your pack.” Fen pointed to the pile of packs, lying next to the smoking remains of the fire.

Tien wished the ground could swallow her up. I’m no better than that awful woman in Tira, she thought bitterly. Ogling Fen like she was a freak. And she has only ever treated me with respect. Tien could not think of any words that would make things right, so with her own cheeks flaming, she pulled her pack onto her back in silence.

As they set out along the path, the woods abruptly thickened into dense forest. Tien gazed up in awe at the thick trunks that stretched high above them. Their branches rustled with the flurry of birds and forest animals. Occasionally a leaf drifted down to a forest floor already littered with leaves and rotten branches. Tien would have liked to stop and explore, but it was almost dark, and they were moving at brisk pace. She breathed in the forest’s scent. Damp soil and sweet decay. The air was filled with cacophony of songs and cries. A night frogs’ piercing whistles. The chirruping purr of a hundred chickerloos. The chorus of half a dozen birdcalls. Berry strode ahead with Saka. They seemed to be discussing mutual friends in Tira.

“How will we find Flip?” Tien asked Fen. A ripe moon glided alongside them, gleaming through the branches.

“I went to Pasco once, a long time ago. I remember how big it was. And how easy it was to get lost.” “It is a bit of a maze!” Fen laughed. “That is, if you’re not a local. Misty took a message to some of our people in Pasco. I asked them to meet us tomorrow. We’ll go together to find Flip, using the address his mother has given.”

“But if he’s not expecting us, won’t he be terrified when a crowd of strangers appear on his doorstep?”

“Yes, he will,” Fen admitted. “He was not a member of the Watch and we do not know how much Andron told him. But it’s the safest way. For him and us. He’ll go about his normal routine tomorrow, and not attract any unwanted attention.”

“Can he be trust…..oooff!” Tien swung around, ducking her head. Something had swooped over her, and crashed into the underbrush to her left. She grasped Fen by the arm, her heart thumping. “There is something out there!” she hissed.

Fen halted and stood, listening. A moment later, Saka and Berry turned back. Saka shrugged his shoulders, his palms up, silently asking what was going on. Putting her finger to her lips, Fen cupped her hand behind one ear. The four of them spread out, straining to see or hear. They peered about the shadows cast by the thickly set trees on either side. But the forest had stilled. It was not giving up its secrets.

Saka came back to Tien. ”What was it? What did you hear?” he whispered. Reddening, Tien murmured, “Something flew low over my head. I thought it was…, well I don’t exactly know.” she finished lamely. Why do I do that, she asked herself? I magnify a little forest noise into a big drama. They began to walk again, and Tien gritted her teeth as Berry’s laughter floated back.

The forest stretched out ahead of them, dense and silent, as though its inhabitants were holding their breath. Watching. Trees crowded about them. Scant moonlight filtered through the thick canopy overhead. Tien heard a hissing sound behind her. Her skin prickled and she looked over her shoulder. Nothing. Nothing but trees. Fen, Saka and Berry were striding on ahead. Am I the only one who can hear it? She ran to catch up with them, straining her ears. Yes! There it goes again! This time, an unmistakeable crunch of boots sounded, only ten paces behind her. Tien whirled around, sick with fear. Bile soured the back of her throat. Could it be that the raseen had found them again? Her sudden action caught Fen’s attention, and the group stopped again. Tien scanned the perimeter, desperate for proof of the noises she was hearing.

“There was something behind me.” Her voice pleaded for belief. “I’m sorry, but I am telling you, something is following me. Following us,” she corrected herself. “Maybe a curious fox? They wouldn’t see too many humans in here.” Tien rolled her eyes. If it were you who’d heard it, Saka, we’d take you seriously. I’m not imagining this. “Whatever it was, man or beast, it was walking on two legs”, she said, jutting her chin out. ”And wearing boots.”

The four of them checked the area thoroughly. But the forest had stilled, its shadows thick and unyielding. They did not see or hear a thing, and eventually continued their trek. The path narrowed and steepened as it led them closer to the heights of Pasco’s Stra Mountain. Tien found that she was nearly panting. She concentrated on breathing deeply. Is my mind playing tricks on me? Or is this a side affect of being prodded? These noises just sound so real.

Unnerved and angry with herself, she quickened her pace, forcing Fen to hurry to keep up. The forests noises gradually filtered back. Saka and Berry resumed their conversation. Tien’s heart slowed back into a regular rhythm. It was just as she was beginning to relax, with a song from home playing in her mind, that it happened again. Something brushed against her back, and for a fleeting second, she felt a warm tickle on her neck. Tien shuddered. It must be some kind of large insect, maybe a roach. Yuck! Grimly, she swatted at it, without slowing her pace.

I’m not saying anymore about it, even if I have to put up with being pestered all the way to Pasco. Ever since I met these people, I’ve not done a thing right. I couldn’t jump out the window, or ride a goat properly. Berry finds me unworthy of courtesy. So at the very least, I will walk past a few trees without causing a scene. If it is a roach, it’ll go away. If not, chances are if I ignore it, it’ll turn its attention on one of the others. That idea cheered her somewhat.

She didn’t have to wait long. A moment later, Berry jumped. She halted and looked at Saka with a suspicious smile. “What?“ he asked, straight faced. “Oh, nothing at all.” Berry’s tone was amused. Saka shrugged and kept walking. Over the next half hour, Tien became certain that the invisible pest was no insect. Its behaviour seemed mischievous and deliberate, yet harmless. Tien remained the sole target of its taunting. No longer frightened, she grew irritable. My plan is not working, she thought, readjusting her headscarf after phantom fingers had yanked it over her eyes. Berry jumped with a delighted squeal. Tien smiled. Finally!

A moment later, Saka yelped. He stopped and looked at Berry in real surprise, rubbing his backside. “Hey!” “Hey yourself.” Berry blinked at him demurely. They had only moved forward a few paces, when Saka halted again. “Oy,” he said, smiling, “Control yourself, please!” “Don’t give it if you can’t take it.”

Berry grinned broadly, her perfect teeth luminous in the moonlight. “I didn’t touch you.” “Uh huh.” She pulled a disbelieving face, before continuing on. They walked in silence now, the sense of camaraderie between them was gone. “Ow! Now cut it OUT,” Berry yelled, stopping dead in the track. “I’m not laughing anymore, Saka.”

She rubbed her rump and glared at him. “I haven’t once touched you, Berr. Though you deserve it. I’ll feel the bruise you gave me every time I sit down, for the next week.” He looked sincerely bewildered.

“Alright, let’s sort this out.” Fen came alongside them. She rubbed her temples with a weary hand. “Saka, you have not touched Berry?” “I… did …not… lay… a …hand… on her. You should know that I wouldn’t.” he said, speaking to Berry

“Thanks,” Berry’s tone was scathing. There was an uncomfortable silence, though Tien wasn’t sure why. Berry shrugged. ”Well someone has pinched me three times.” She rubbed her bottom. “That last one hurt.” No one moved. The moon was visible once again, but Tien felt stifled by the trees that pressed in on them from all sides.

“Of course!“ Saka smacked the side of his head, an expression of dawning comprehension on his face. All three girls jumped. Saka didn’t appear to notice Berry’s rolling eyes. He spoke slowly, as though his idea was still forming. ”I can scarcely believe that I’m thinking this, let alone about to say it. It sounds crazy, but hear me out. Then if you have a more plausible idea, I’d love to hear it.” He paused, as if wondering where to start. No one said a word. “Now,” he began, “when you were children, were you ever told about the wendigo of the woods? “

“Wendigo?” The name sounded familiar. “Yes. I always imagined they resembled agoblin or dwarf. Small creatures and relatively weak, but their power is in their trickery. They never really hurt you but they play tricks on your mind, send you crazy. They often cry out like someone injured or lost. People were said to be lured deep into the forest to try to rescue them.”

“Yes, I’ve heard stories about them,” agreed Fen. She came in close to the others, lowering her voice. ”They work alone. They make little sounds or distractions to spook a traveller, and gradually get more daring as the person becomes confused.”

“That’s right, and no one is ever quick enough to spin around and see one in the act.” said Saka. “ I do know what you’re talking about.” Tien said, nodding. She’d heard of wendigo in fairytales when she was little. “My gran used to tell me about wendigo. She said that some people never returned from the forest. They’d been driven mad by their taunts. And those who did find their way out, gibbered about an invisible shadow that they blundered deep into the forest to be rid of. They had gotten hopelessly lost in the process.” The companions stood there silently, digesting this information.

“This thing we’re being bothered by, sounds like a wendigo,” said Fen. “But wendigo are make believe, nothing more.”

“Well this thing is flesh and blood real.” Berry touched her backside gingerly. “So what do we do?”

“Well, just for laughs, let’s call it a wendigo,” said Saka. “And let’s say that everything we know about it is true.”

“OK,” Fen said slowly. “Just for laughs. And by the way Tien, I’m sorry. I should have taken the noises you heard seriously.” Tien shrugged and smiled forgivingly, as Fen continued. “The wendigo,” she glanced at Saka as she stressed the word, “will want to separate us. Divide and conquer.“ “Maybe it’s gone, now that we know about it,” Berry suggested. “I’m not so sure.”

Saka gazed up at the overhanging branches. “My guess is that it is waiting to see what we’ll do next.” They looked about cautiously. “I agree,” said Fen. “I’m starting to think that the Wendigo, or something like it, is very real, and quite dangerous. We need to take it seriously. And if it bothers us, we mustn’t give in to the temptation to turn around, or run from it’s teasing. If we split up, we’ll be pawns in its game.”

“We have to work together.” “Why don’t we link up with our belts.” Berry began undoing hers. The three friends again joined their belts into a rope. Once connected to each other, they set off walking. Saka went first and Fen brought up the rear. During the next few kilometres, Tien felt like she was in a waking dream. She saw that now, the crafty imp was actively bothering them all. Every couple of minutes, one of the companions would yell out, or shake away its touch. But the wendigo moved like a host of invisible beings. Tien was constantly being touched. A hand brushed past hers, a muffled whisper tickled her ear, and at one stage an arm draped casually over her shoulder. Trees stretched endlessly, thick and impenetrable. They walked in almost complete darkness.

A child’s pitiful whimpering broke out from somewhere deep in the forest on their right. The cries grew louder, frantic; until they reached a crescendo of drawn-out wails. It was a sound of utter despair, which at times was muffled, as if the child was weaving in and out of the trees. Tien stopped, her heart in her mouth. This is no prank of the Wendigo, she thought. We are ignoring a child who really needs our help. We have to call out and find where she is.

From behind, Berry yanked on the cord attached to her waist. “Keep going,” she muttered, “it is all part of the Wendigo’s deception.“

But how can this creature be everywhere at once, Tien’s muddled brain begged the question. She clapped her hands over her ears and stumbled on.

“Aaah!” Ahead, Saka stumbled heavily, bracing his weight against Tien as he struggled to right himself. “It’s given me a wallop,“ he growled, touching his cheek tenderly.

“We have not responded to its attempts. It must be growing anxious, for we are almost out of its grasp,” came Fen’s soothing voice. “Remember, the Wendigo cannot leave the forest for fear of being discovered. Look, Berry! Tien! See there, Saka, through that clearing in the trees?” Tien lifted weary eyes from the ground. In her preoccupation with the Wendigo, she had not noticed that the forest was thinning. Fifty more paces, and they would be out of it altogether. Pinpricks of light, dozens of them, dotted the black horizon.

“The lights of Pasco.” Fen said. “Just a few more yards, and we are free of this torment.“ Buoyed by the sight of Pasco’s lights, they quickened their pace. As they left the last trees behind, and reached open land, an enraged squall erupted from the forest. Tien glanced back over her shoulder. A squat hairy creature stamped its feet in rage. Then it was gone. She rubbed her eyes, and looked again. Nothing. Was it? No, must have just been a shadow. No more letting my imagination get the better of me.

She failed to notice the small bird that flew to the edge of the forest, and perched on a branch, its black eyes watching the companions. It chirruped softly and then flew to a tree beyond them, in the direction that they were moving.

© 2006 by Shelly Taylor

15. Berry

They stopped to rest under two spreading neem trees on the slope of a hill, just beyond Verigan Forest. A rocky outcrop concealed them from anyone travelling the nearby highway to Pasco. All four were exhausted and slept on the ground, wrapped only in their cloaks. The sun’s relentless glare penetrated the thin barrier of Tien’s eyelids. She woke reluctantly.

It feels like I’d only been asleep a couple of minutes. But I’m ravenous. She sat up and felt around in her pocket for her leftover chethra. It was leathery and stale, but she ate every bite. As she yawned and stretched her arms over her head, Tien realized that she was alone. She jumped guiltily to her feet and looked around. Soft grass, strewn with large grey boulders, reached all the way to the edge of a small lake at the bottom of the hill. The clear water reflected the aquamarine sky with its smattering of windswept clouds. A copse of dead trees stood sadly together on one side of the lake, their trunks black and charred. Fen was amongst them with her pack, stooping low to gather kindling.

Tien could hear the other two talking close by. She knuckled the sleep from her eyes and brushed her tunic down. The morning air was crisp, so she wrapped the cloak around her.. As she rounded the second tree, she froze, rooted to the spot by what she saw. Berry stood by the fire. Her hair hung loose about her face. She had both Saka’s hands grasped in her own. Her entire body was shaking so badly that Tien was sure she would have collapsed if she hadn’t been holding Saka with such a tight grip. Berry was looking up into his face intensely, as if searching his features for answers.

“You can’t even act, can you?” Her bottom lip and chin wobbled. She never took her eyes off him. “You understand that I am stuck here because of you?” Saka nodded miserably. His eyes were wide and he kept swallowing. “Have I no reward for doing this?” She threw his hands down now, and pressed trembling fingers over her eyes. They stood in silence for what seemed like forever. Tien stared, transfixed. Berry’s eyes dropped. Her hands strayed to her hair, smoothing it back as if to put it into a ponytail, twisting it up, then dropping it. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. She looked back at Saka. Then as if she couldn’t bear what she saw, she grasped two bunches of her hair, and pulled them over her face with her hands.

Saka’s eyes were downcast. His jaw twitched. He murmured something Tien didn’t catch, but Berry shrugged his words off.

“Your father would be ashamed of you, “ she blurted out. Her face was almost the same shade as the rouge on her cheeks ”You’ve no sense of Tiran honour.“

It suddenly occurred to Tien that she was eavesdropping. She backed away, moving behind the tree. But it was already over. Berry spun around on her heel, and stalked unseeing past. Her face contorted with hurt and anger, eyes pooling with unshed tears. As Tien stood there stiffly, her mind racing; several things fell into place. The undercurrent of tension. Berry’s hard, sarcastic attitude. Her barbed words, which at times held double meanings. It all suddenly made sense. Goofy, ordinary Saka had broken Berry’s heart. The resentment Tien had felt towards Berry dissolved.

No wonder she’s angry and mean, she thought. She is stuck here working alongside him, and she’s just covering her real feelings. From the cover of the tree, she saw that Saka was resolutely cooking breakfast. She walked over to him, in what she hoped was a casual manner.

“Ah, the sleeping beauty awakes!” Saka sounded normal, but his face was flushed; his hair mussed from raking his hands through it.

“I did not hear you all get up.” Tien mumbled. “You should have woken me.” She smiled up at Fen as she joined them, laden with the kindling. I don’t have to struggle with awkward conversation on my own.

The three of them sat peacefully, their backs warmed by the sun, as they ate fried taro and stewed fish. With Berry absent, Tien boldly asked about the task at Pasco. “Are you sure Flip will be able to get us to his master?” She stopped to slurp the last bit of flesh off a fish bone, before licking the salty grease off her fingers. “If the raseen thought there was even a chance that he’d know where Andron was taken, surely they would have killed him.”

Saka nodded, his mouth full. Fen looked from Tien to Saka, and shrugged. “You are right. Andron might never be found. But Flip may remember something that can give us a clue.“

Saka slurped on his tea. “True. I figure we have to have a good stab at it, for our sake as well as for Andron’s. We can’t just give up, and resign ourselves to a death sentence under Phan’s control.” He saw Tien’s perplexed look. “It may be the Aryks Phan’s got it in for right now, Tien. But who will he focus his hatred onto next? Queuing up for Wiggo’s loopy tablets with my eyes closed and mouth wide open, isn’t part of my life plan.” Tien smiled and nodded in agreement. It was so strange to hear Saka say things Graic would have said, in his polished Tiran accent.

“Plus,” Saka added, “The Watch has worked so hard to locate Flip’s hiding place. “And when we find him, what then?” Tien persisted. “We will have to play that by ear. So far none of our plans have gone as we expected, but here we are, still on course.”

Saka reached over, holding out a bowl of taro for Berry, who had joined them. She thanked him and sat, subdued but composed.

“We got a message just before dawn. From one of our contacts in Pasco. She is meeting us there at noon.” Fen said, squinting in the sunlight. “If we leave here late morning, we’ll get to Pasco in good time.”

“Oh, please.” Berry heaved an exasperated sigh and glared round at them. “Not more sitting around twiddling our thumbs!” she groaned, rolling her reddened eyes. “It’s all I did with Noth as well. Boring!” Her voice was still thick with tears. “Come on, let’s be honest. You know that this is the last place I want to be. I am sick of the cloak and dagger drama, only creeping about at night.” She flung a piece of taro towards the lake. “I am fed up with the weeds and scraps we call food, and not having a bed. I want to be able to go into Pasco and look around like anyone else. If I don’t get a break soon, I….”

“Now listen,” Saka cut in, his tone dangerous.

Berry stretched out a trembling hand to cut him off. “Let me finish! I want to be normal again, for a few hours. I’ve never been to Pasco before. I’ve always longed to see its markets.“ As Saka mutely shook his head, Berry argued, “No one is looking for a lone Tiran girl. I won’t be blowing any cover.“ She released a shaky breath. “Please. I’ll come back refreshed and be a very good girl from now on. Promise.” She focussed imploring eyes on Fen.

Tien gulped and swallowed, realizing that her mouth had been hanging open. She looked from Saka to Fen. Saka was chewing on the inside of his mouth, as though literally biting his tongue. He scuffed the ground with his bare feet. Fen’s face did not betray her thoughts. She sat gazing down at the lake. Finally she turned back to Berry. “Pasco is a large town. How would we meet up with you again?”

“Tell me a landmark, any landmark, and I’ll rendezvous with you before we go see the potion boy, OK?” Berry spoke impatiently, as though it were she being put out, not the other way around.

“If you haven’t been to Pasco, you’ll have trouble finding your way to a landmark. The streets zigzag back and forth confusingly.” Fen said.

“Oh.” Berry was silent a moment. Then slowly, a smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “But you’ve been there. I heard you tell Fen.” She pointed at Tien Tien had been so engrossed in the conversation,that it took her a moment to register what Berry had just said. But now, her eyes widened, and her mouth fell open again. No words came out. She was speechless.

“It’s perfect!” Berry enthused, warming to her idea. “Two harmless girls, flitting about, looking at all the wares.

Tien cringed. I have never flitted, and I’m not about to start now.

“And Tien can help us find the landmark.“ Berry said. So now all of a sudden, you can say my name properly! Tien fumed.

Berry paused for breath, looking at Fen, with an eager smile As Fen glanced at Saka to gauge his reaction, Tien felt an irrational desperation settle like a weight in her belly. This crazy idea was actually being considered. I have to say something, she thought wildly. “I …don’t actually remember Pasco that well, “ she stammered, avoiding Berry’s eyes. “It’s been two years since I was there.”

Please don’t send me with her, please don’t, she begged silently.

“Do you know the ziggurat?” Fen was calm, serene. “The front entrance?” “Yes,” Tien admitted. Anyone who’d been to Pasco would remember it. This was really going to happen!

“OK. We have the beginnings of a plan.” Tien slumped. How had Berry done that? How had she talked the others into going along with this selfish and dangerous idea?

© 2006 by Shelly Taylor

16. Pascan Fashion

The girls walked up the road that led to Pasco.

It is so unfair, Tien seethed, as she strode alongside Berry. Berry’s only treating me like a human being because it suits her purpose. Can’t the others see that? What possessed Fen to let us go into Pasco alone? She clenched her teeth. A whole morning shopping with Berry will be a nightmare. I wish Saka and Fen were coming with us.

She gazed up at the peak of the Stra. The mountain cradled the red walled city of Pasco, like a rough ruby set in stone, but Tien was oblivious to its beauty. I can just imagine what wares Berry will be interested in, she grumbled to herself. The pricey kind. Great! And the only thing I’ll get from it all is more freckles. Her scalp prickled uncomfortably under her scarf. At the base of the mountain, the girls joined the traffic to the city.

Tien’s irritation evaporated as she looked about her. The road teemed with people and livestock, from surrounding Pascan villages. Long-skirted women staggered under the great baskets of fruit, which hung heavily from wide straps around their foreheads. Horse herders with long staffs, strode along behind their flocks. They shouted with hoarse voices to keep the animals moving steadily in the right direction, occasionally bending down to slap the rump of any horse that strayed from the herd. The young horse herders led the foals along by a length of rope, with the youngest ones draped across their shoulders. Tien’s eyes widened as leopards, ostriches and peacocks stalked calmly alongside their owners, content to be on a leash. A little capped monkey, ridiculous in a purple vest, scampered past. Clutching a piece of paper and a purse to its chest, it screeched loudly at all it passed. Immediately, every one fled to the extreme left of the road.

Soon after, a four-poster litter borne by strong bare-chested servants swept past. The litter’s curtains were tied back, allowing the lounging Pascan inside to see and be seen. Show off. The gritty road rose and dipped, growing steadily steeper, as they drew near to the walled city. Narrow barriers protected them from a steep drop on their right. The craggy mountain range rose high above them to their left.

Tien looked across at her companion. Since leaving their camp, Berry’s whole demeanour had transformed. Her pout was gone, and as she gazed around, she seemed almost joyful. Her eyes sparkled and her smile was no longer forced or scornful. She made eye contact with Tien. “Listen, when we get there, just point out that landmark we talked about, and then you can go wherever you want,” she suggested generously.

“I’d rather stay together, if that’s alright.” Tien replied. She cringed as she heard how stiff the words sounded to her own ears.

Berry’s smile tightened. She shrugged. “Suit yourself. Just try to keep up.”

There was no time to get annoyed. Pasco’s entrance was just ahead, and the crowd surged towards its narrow gates. Everyone was pressed in close together. The sun gleamed high above, and Berry slipped off her cloak. She took out the pin which held her hair in place. It fell down her back in glossy waves. Berry pulled gold hoop earrings from her pack and fastened them in place, all the while working a path expertly through the swarming mass of humanity. She didn’t once look around for Tien. Tien thought wistfully of how she could have once shaken out her own waist length curls. Instead she massaged her bristle through the scarf, and pinched her cheeks to bring a bit of colour to her face. She touched her neck to make sure the scarf’s ties concealed her mark.

The markets were easy to find. The girls just let themselves be carried along with the crowd towards the sounds and smells. Market day was in full swing. The wide street, which Tien only vaguely remembered crawled with people. Stalls filled every available space on either side. The only pace that could be managed in the throng, was a shuffle. Tien didn’t mind, for it allowed plenty of time to gaze at the stalls. Every fruit, spice, and candy imaginable lay in great baskets. Fat cobs of maize roasted over hot embers. Street vendors sliced plantains and cassava roots thinly, and fried them into crunchy chips. Graziers and potential buyers haggled loudly over livestock. Hats, scarves, shawls and jewellery, much of it silver, dangled and glittered alluringly. Soft fabrics fluttered. Children held out delicate glass bottles of scented oils, perfumes and lotions to be sampled.

A waist-high flash of purple caught Tien’s eye. She turned to see the monkey they had seen earlier scamper over to the owner of one stall. It solemnly handed him the list and purse Tien had seen it holding so close on the Stra road. While the man packed the listed items into a basket, the monkey peered around over hunched shoulders. Its scrawny paws strayed towards its armpits as thought longing to enjoy a good scratch. Suddenly the vested monkey screeched loudly to itself, smacked its paws hard, and then clasped them firmly together behind its back. Obviously a no-no, Tien thought grinning. The stall owner counted out the change. He handed it back, with the purse and the basket of purchased goods. The monkey executed a graceless bow, before darting across to the next stall, the basket balanced precariously on its head. Amazing, Tien marvelled! I’d love to have my own monkey, it’s so sweet. I wonder who gets the blame, if the money in the purse runs out before the items on their lists are all purchased.

“Tien!” Berry was gleefully rifling through a rack of silk garments. “Isn’t this beautiful?” She held an emerald green gown to her chest. Tien nodded. It was beautiful, and so was this new Berry, so alive and happy. Berry’s so different here, she thought. Almost likeable. Maybe she can leave her sadness for a while, and be herself. “I’ll try it on.” Berry declared. She disappeared into a flapping tented cubicle, which served for a dressing room. She emerged, and twirled elegantly, holding out the skirt with one hand. Berry looked like a fabled dryad from Dins Hallow. Her dark Tiran features stood out among all the fair-haired Pascans already. Swathed in delicate green she was a showstopper. Several passers-by paused to stare. Stop gawking, Tien thought, rolling her eyes. All Berry needs is a bigger head. Yes, there she goes, primping and posing for her admiring audience. Eventually, Berry went back to change. She emerged, the dress hanging off her arm, looking deflated.

“I just saw the price tag,” she muttered, placing the dress back on the rack. “I don’t have nearly that much money. What a shame”.

The stall owner sidled up to them. “Something is wrong with lovely dress?,” he wheedled. “It looks so nice on missy, I think,”

“Is the dress a set price, or can you do a special bargain for me?” Berry asked. She spoke slowly as if he could not speak Tiran. “This is my first visit to your beautiful city. I will tell all my friends in Tira of your garments. They have loads of gold coins.” She smiled at him, her dimples flashed charmingly.

But the man was already shaking his head firmly. “No. Prices I do no changing. No bargaining. Absolute no. I am poor man, missies. Must be that I get what owed I be.“ He was silent a moment, scratching his bald forehead. A gleam came into his eye. “But is like that dress made is for you especial, missy.“

Tien shook her head. “Don’t fall for that line,” she whispered against Berry’s ear. “He is a pro. Plus, I think he is playing up his accent especial.” Berry ignored her, and leaned towards the man. Her eyes shone. “I am finding in my thinking head,” the stall owner continued. “There maybe is a how you can earn this dress.”

Berry smiled and nodded her head encouragingly. The man pointed to a piazza area at the end of the market’s street. A purple length of carpet stretched up to a fluttering canopy. “See. Very nearly, much what I am sewing is twirling in parade on pretty ladies. You,” He pointed at Berry, ” can twirl in dresses, this one and two more what I have sewn. Then you can have dress for what money comes from your bag. “

Brushing off Tien’s protests, a jubilant Berry shook on the deal and collected the outfits she would be modelling. She skipped to the carpeted area the man had pointed out. Young women drifted in and out of the makeshift changing rooms.

Tien glanced up at the sun. Oh no! She hurried after Berry. “Berry, it is almost midday. the ziggurat is probably ten minutes walk from here. And we’ll need to allow extra time to get lost. We can’t be late!”

Berry stopped and turned to face Tien, her hands defensively on her hips. “Oh for goodness sake. It’s just a couple of changes, and a stroll down the carpet. It won’t take a minute. Anyways, I’ve committed now. I have already paid the good man for my dress. Don’t panic,” she laughed, as she vanished into the cramped interior of the changing tent.

Tien rubbed her hands over her scarf. I knew something like this would happen. Stupid, stupid girl! A small crowd had gathered, drawn by the lively tunes from a quartet of pipers, and the promise of a show. Soon the first girls sashayed down the carpet. Berry floated out in a glittering silver robe, lissom and glowing. She stalked up and back, drawing enthusiastic applause. Tien gritted her teeth. Will Saka and Fen wait at the ziggurat till we come? Of course, she reassured herself. A niggling doubt squirmed uneasily in her gut.

There is no reason for them to wait for either of us, really. I’m certainly expendable. And Berry doesn’t even want to be here. Fen let Berry get her trip to the markets, with barely a whimper. They didn’t plan to lose us. Did they?

Panicked adrenalin surged through her body. She pushed her way through the onlookers, searching for Berry. Tien found her fiddling with the flowing sleeves of a pale blue tunic shirt. “Berry,” she said, almost shouting. “We need to go. Look,” she pointed at the sun. “We’re late.“

Berry shook her head distractedly. “In a minute. There’s no rush. That lot are usually late anyhow. What do you think?” She swept her hands down the outfit, and then looked back over her shoulder to see how the black pants sat on her hips. ”This shade of blue would probably suit you better. It‘s perfect for a more sallow complexion. Oops, I’m on. Gotta go!” She disappeared back into the tent.

Tien buried her head in her hands, groaning. What should I do? She did some quick calculations. There are twelve girls parading, and about twenty-four more outfits. So, even if each only takes one minutes per dress, Berry won’t be free to leave for close to half an hour. That’s too late! Tien made a split second decision. Turning her back on the music and colour, she ran in the direction of the ziggurat, following its peak with her eyes. Thank goodness it is so tall, she breathed. Within five minutes she was there.

The ziggurat dwarfed all the other buildings around it. It was shaped like a pyramid; mammoth squares of sandstone piled on top of each other like a giant child’s blocks. Steep stone ramps led up to each level. Lush gardens hung from every flat surface. Tien stopped in front of it and turned slowly around, her eyes scanning the entire parameter. Fen and Saka aren’t here! My one chance to find Mama and Papa is lost.

She brushed a frightened tear away with her sleeve. No, but that is ridiculous. I can’t panic yet. Maybe they’re late. Or waiting at a different side of the ziggurat. It is so huge. She slowly skirted the building, looking in the surrounding lawns and gardens. People sat on the stone benches and against trees, reading. Every head was the silvery blond of a Pascan. Saka and Fen were not there Tien stomach churned. We’ve been abandoned.

She ventured through the main doors of the Ziggurat. It’s dark in here after the brightness of midday. Cool and quiet. Shelves of books lined the library’s walls, reaching up to the low ceiling. Broad tables and sturdy chairs surrounded a great staircase which spiralled up from the centre of the room. A sign next to the staircase read:

Level 1: Philosophy

Level 2: Pascan Histories and Periodicals

Level 3: Pascan Literature

Level 4: Museum of Historical Relics.

Tien sat at a table and looked surreptitiously at the others reading around her. No Fen or Saka. Should I look upstairs? But if they are moving around, and I am moving around, we’ll be sure to miss each other. This whole plan to split up was ridiculous! What should I do? Wait here. Or go back and wait with Berry? I suppose two is always better than one, even if one of the two is Berry, she decided.

Tien walked back into the sunshine. It is definitely well past noon. They must have already come and gone. If they came at all. What a mess. She began to trudge back in the direction of the bazaar. Hot tears stung his eyes. Sorry, precious family. For a while, it seemed too good to be true. And it was.

A hand grabbed her arm.

© 2006 by Shelly Taylor

17. Message from Baran

“Tien?”

Tien whirled around to an unfamiliar, smiling face.

“Tien?”

Tien nodded dumbly.

“You’re late. Fen and Saka are just getting the last supplies. See?” The woman pointed to a stall opposite the ziggurat. Saka and Fen stood with their backs to her, absorbed in selecting fruit.

Tien had a sudden urge to hug the woman, but her knees had gone wobbly with relief. For the first time that day she looked at Pasco through bright and hopeful eyes. All those things that had distracted and confused her during her search for the others now appeared fascinating. How soft the grass looks. Such a beautiful place to read a book. She suddenly thought of Berry, and in this moment, even Berry seemed bearable.

Tien put a tentative hand on the woman’s sleeve. “We must fetch Berry. The girl who was with me. She is in a clothing show at the markets.”

The woman snorted. ”That sounds like the Berry we know and love.“ Her brow furrowed deeply as she smiled. She reminded Tien of Fanzine’s mother; a sturdy farm woman with a raucous laugh and a soft heart. “How about I lure her back here with my persuasive powers? You stay here with the others.”

Tien nodded. Fine with me.

The woman started off, then came striding back with her hand extended. “How rude! I forgot to introduce myself! I am Munkho. And we have established that you are Tien. Pleasure to meet you.”

***

Munkho returned after an astonishingly brief time, considering her task. Berry trailed behind her, clutching her precious package with supreme satisfaction. She was relaxed and quite amiable, though thoroughly unrepentant as she greeted them.

“Oh there you are, Tien. I wondered where you’d disappeared to.”

They sank down onto the ziggurat’s silky lawn, away from other groups, and looked at Munkho. She chuckled at their expectant faces.

“Don’t look so worried. I know the way to Flip’s house. We’ll go there soon.” Saka and the girls smiled at each other, but Munkho held up a hand to still their enthusiastic chatter. “Before we do, I received another message today. From Renda. He hoped it would reach me ahead of your departure. Now where did I put it.” She rifled through her pack, eventually pulling out a small piece of paper that she handed to Fen. Fen scanned the note twice and then passed it along. It read:
I know why the Raseen are searching the Aryk’s property. They seek a tapestry, and are under orders to bring any they find to Wiggo. Apparently an Aryk once stole some significant tapestries woven by Wiggo’s great grandmother.

Tien pulled a face and read on.

Obviously this is a cover story, but the tapestries must be important. Why? Munkho may know someone who can tell you more. After all, Pasco is the capital of historians and scholars. Just be careful who you ask.
Me.

Tien gave the letter back to Fen, who folded it, and then carefully ripped it into unreadable pieces. Fen looked at Munkho. “Is there anyone who could tell us why these tapestries are so important to Wiggo?”

Munkho chewed a fingernail thoughtfully. “There are probably many historians who could tell us. In fact our Library here would have the historical information.” She pointed back at the ziggurat, with the back of her head. “But I do not know who we can ask. The Raseen pass through Pasco more frequently, of late. Often, they disappear into the Library. So, I would not trust any of the Scholars.” Her face clouded. “I find that I trust only myself these days.” There was a pause, while Munkho forced her lips into a meagre smile. “You do not know this, but for some time I have been here on my own.”

Saka shook his head, his brow furrowed with surprise.

“And how would you?” Munkho’s laugh was brittle. “I have not used the messenger dogs till yesterday. I fear I’ve become paranoid that I will be discovered.”

“But where is your partner? Talis?”

“Talis left to trail the Raseen who captured Andron. He has been gone almost two months, and I’ve had no word from him.” Munkho swallowed the tremor in her voice, and continued, “I cannot help but fear the worst.“

“Munkho, I’m sorry.” Fen’s eyes darkened, and she reached out to clasp her friend’s hands. “I did not know Talis was trying to rescue Andron.”

“He had no authoraization to do it, the silly man. But he overheard a conversation between some Raseen standing next to a cart. They were talking about the prisoners in the cart, and Talis was certain Andron and Flip were in there. He tore in to tell me what had happened, grabbed some things in his pack, and then he was gone. I should have tried to stop him, but when Talis gets excited, there is no changing his stubborn mind.” She shook her head fiercely.

“You’ve worked together for some time, haven’t you?"

“Seven and a half months.” Munkho’s eyes were damp. She closed then for a moment as if summoning inner strength, and when she spoke again, her voice was calm.

"About the tapestries, I would not recommend that you approach any of the Scholars or historians from the library. You would be remembered.”

“Who then?” Saka asked. He tapped a disjointed rhythm onto his thighs, as if he was restless, anxious to be moving again. “Well, there is Lumin. But, no.” Munkho shook her head. “That is impossible. He never sees anyone.”

“Sorry, who?” “Lumin. Five years ago he quit his job as Head of the Library, complaining that Pasco had lost its original love of learning. He accused the new breed of scholars of being in it simply for the prestige. For the recognition and honour it brings them.” She smiled wryly. “And he’s right. We hold these grand competitions for literary memorization, for who can learn the most new languages in a one-year period. Yet none of it is practical or helpful…”

Tien sensed Munkho could go on about this and forget her point. Saka must have been thinking the same, for he broke in. “So do you know where this Lumin went?”

“Rumour has it, he lives on a little island not far from the docks. There was a lot of hoohaa for a while, with people sailing out to ogle him, ask foolish questions, or even heckle him for throwing away his esteemed title. Apparently, he acquired a little regiment of protectors to repel any unwanted guests, and no one has seen him in several years.”

“Docks?” Berry raised a questioning brow. "Isn’t Pasco land locked?”

“Well you might ask!” Munkho grinned. “Due to a Sustaining Simulated Marine Life competition,” she shook her head, as she struggled to utter the pompous title correctly, “we now have a sea. That was a few years back. The entrants were marine students, experts in the properties and currents of the sea. The Scholars created an elaborate man-made sea in the valley, with genuine marine plants and creatures. They sectioned it off, and allocated each contestant a tiny island and one of the sections. The winner would be the one who could sustain his or her miniature sea world for the longest time.” Munkho laughed at the memory. “Oh, the competition was terribly nasty. Lots of cheating and bribery went on. You see, a Pascan Order of Oceanic Professorship was up for grabs. Though why you would put up any sort of fight at all to become officially considered a POOP, is anyone’s guess.”

They all pealed with laughter at the ridiculousness of it. Munkho made a comical grimace. “Anyhow, a lot of sabotage went on. One entrant even smuggled in a hoard of stunted men who ruined many of the other entrants’ efforts. The whole thing was a shemozzle, especially after the little men desalted several sections of the sea. The Scholars were terribly embarrassed about it. They abandoned the competition and desalted the rest of the sea. I suppose you might call it more of a lake now.”

“Or a swamp.” Saka put in.

“No, not a swamp. Stra’s freshwater streams flow into the lake. It actually looks quite lovely. Pasco’s mayor is embarrassed about its history, so he has banned the islands from visitors, and plans to have it drained one day. In the meantime, it is a birds’ paradise. The strange little men I told you about, took up permanent residence and refused to leave. Apparently, they befriended Lumin and, like I said before, they now keep unwanted visitors away.

“Sooo…” Fen said. “Is it worth the trouble it may take to get to him? Do you think he can help us?” She sounded doubtful.

“That’s a risk you’ll have to take, but yes, I think he could help you. Whether or not he will is another matter altogether.” Munkho said, stretching her mouth wide, and raising her eyebrows sceptically. “You’ll need a little boat to row out to where I think he is. Getting one will be no trouble; all the rowboats for the competitors are still tied to the docks, and like I said no one goes there. Mind you,” she added, “It’s only where I have heard he lives. I don’t know for sure.”

***

They arrived at the docks, munching apples and bananas. The sea, or lake that it had become, was a significant area of water. “I don’t think we should all go over.” Munkho said, as they looked around for a small boat. “A group our size is more likely to be noticed and reported to the wrong people. But if some of us come back, any peering eyes will think they must have missed seeing the rest of you return. Tien should come, as she knows the most about Partha’s history, and can fill in some of the details.”

Tien’s brain began to sift frantically through all the history she’d ever done at school. She had spent quite a lot of time looking out the window, daydreaming.

“Saka and I will go with her, because we will be the ones seeing this through.” Fen decided. Munkho nodded.

“Berry and I will wait back at my house.” Berry nodded wordlessly, her eyes darting briefly over to Saka, before turning back to gaze out over the sparkling blue sea.

“Ok, now see past the rocks there?” Munkho pointed out into the distance where some lumps were visible. “To where those tiny islands are? There is one that still has a house on it. That’s the one he’s in. I think. I hope your time with him is productive. OK Berry, let’s go. You can tell me what the latest trends in Tiran fashion are on the way.

***

The water was dazzlingly bright, and stretched out, calm and opaque. Tien had never before seen such a vast expanse of water. What a waste that no one is allowed to come here, she thought. Because of the pride of probably two or three people, everyone’s enjoyment is ruined. They climbed into the little boat they had selected, and set out paddling. They each had an oar, and after settling into a rhythm, they made steady progress through the transparent waters, veering towards the only island with a building on it. Tien didn’t mind the ache in her arms, as she pulled the oar through the water. It was wonderful to rest her legs for a while. They glided past several small islands, scarcely big enough to put more than a hut on. Any structures that had been there once, had either been removed or demolished, and the ruins lay in unsightly piles.

As they passed by, Tien saw that flocks of sanderoons had built their nests into the rubble and were perched under its shade during the heat of the afternoon. The blurred shape they had been sailing towards now came into focus, growing large as the boat drew close. It was an island of pure white, no bigger than a circle of huts at Pojabe, thought Tien. A single building stood alone, on the measly beach. There was no sign of life visible, as they beached the boat and clambered onto shore. Looking almost hopefully around, Tien wondered what the little men would look like. White pebbles covered the island and they crunched noisily under the Tien’s feet.

The companions cautiously approached the white structure, which up close, was actually a wee house raised up on stone stilts. A solid timber ladder leant against a wide veranda that reached all the way around the house. They were about five paces from the house when they heard it. A low humming that came from somewhere behind them. They turned to see what it was. The sun had disappeared behind an enormous dark cloud. As the humming intensified, the cloud’s shape shifted and it streamed towards them at high-speed. Before they could duck for cover, it was upon them, and a host of black flies engulfed them like a shroud.

© 2006 by Shelly Taylor

18. Lumin

Tien stumbled in panic, her hands reaching out blindly for Fen or Saka. She could hear their muffled grunts nearby, over the drone of the insects. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, as the flies greedily swarmed over them, seeking out the moistness under her lids with their proboscises, and shuddered at hideous tickle of hundreds of gummy legs pattering over her skin. They had even gotten inside her tunic. She wanted to scream, but the moist probing at the join of her lips prevented her from trying. She realized that she was grunting as well. And she could no longer hear the others. Get into the water, she thought with a flash of clarity. That will get rid of them. But which way was the water? That really doesn’t matter, she decided, flinging herself onto the ground and beginning to roll.

Dislodged flies hovered as she tumbled over the white rocks. She couldn’t hear which direction the waves were washing up, with the whirring of tiny wings thunderous in her ears, so she felt a great relief when her legs felt the blessed cool of water. She rolled all the way in, head first, gasping in great gulps of air as she surfaced. She splashed wildly with her arms to shoo away the remaining pests, having to go completely under two more times to fend off those that were more persistent. Finally they gave up, and flew off to join the larger mass, moving away in a black, buzzing swirl.

Tien rinsed the dirty sensation of the flies off her body, with trembling hands. A flash of movement caught her eye, and she looked across to see Saka sitting in the shallows close by, throwing water over himself. He saw her and managed a feeble smile.

“Is that the best they could throw at us? Pathetic effort!” he croaked. “Not even close to the welcome I expected.” His face sobered.

“ Are you OK?” Tien nodded. “But have you seen Fen?” They looked further out in the water, but she was not there.

”Fen,” Saka called, his tone soft and low. Then a little louder. “Fen!”

There was an answering snigger. The sound was so unexpected, that Tien and Saka both jumped and stared. Tien saw a figure emerge from an opening in the ground that they had not noticed before, near the building; he was dressed like miniature jester, complete with tights and long pointed shoes. A rounded belly hung pendulously over the wide belt that gathered in his short tunic. His legs and arms were spindly, his hands long-fingered. Generous eyebrows sat over beady heavy-lidded eyes. The man’s nose was hooked and extended almost to a mouth that had a beak-like sharpness about it. Tien’s first impression was that no one in their right mind could mistake this creature for a man. But it must be one of the little men, Munkho had talked of, dressed as a goblin. A very good likeness it was too. And it was not alone.

One after the other, like a nasty brood of mice, about twenty nearly identical beings tumbled out of the hole. They were snickering and elbowing each other, and in their midst, her body and head swathed in her cloak, was Fen.

Saka went pale, and immediately started to sweep through the waves towards her, but Tien remained unsure, in the water. They are only wicked little men dressed in costumes, she told herself. They are not really goblins, for goblins exist only in fairy tales. They just want to scare us.

“Let the girl go! Naughty boys!” A voice spoke sharply above them and they all looked up.

A white haired man clad in a brown tunic and robe, leant over the watchtower’s veranda rail, his expression thunderous. Immediately the little creatures were contrite, and mumbling hasty apologies to the old man, and to Fen, they backed slowly away, bowing. When they had each produced about twenty bows, they sprang to work, puttering about the little island, brooms, paintbrushes, and buckets appearing as if from nowhere. Some painted the fading stones white, while others vigorously swept away the dirt or made sure the beach’s surface was evenly spread with the stones. Despite their distended bellies, and long gawky limbs, their movements were light and graceful. They swooped and dipped dramatically, like a troupe of prima ballerina spiders. Just little men, pretending, Tien reminded herself. She didn’t really know what to think.

Tien tore her gaze away and looked up at the man.
Saka called out “Lumin?”

The old man nodded, then beckoned to them. “It really was your own fault you know” he tut-tutted. “You must have heard about my little protectors and their tricks before you came here. Well, well, you are here now. Come up, and tell me your business.” He didn’t quite manage to disguise the curiosity in his voice.

“Saka, could you come here a moment.” Something in Fen’s quiet tone, made Tien look intently at her. Fen had not moved from where the goblins had left her and her face was still covered by the cloak. Saka turned to Tien. “You go up, we’ll be right there.”

Tien approached the rickety ladder and looked up. It seemed along way up. But she had to do it. An old man who probably climbed it every day was watching her. And I’ll have to be quick, she urged herself, for if the flies return while I am still climbing, I’ll fall! Focussing on Lumin’s wrinkled face, she began to clamber up as fast as her fear would allow. As she reached the final rung, Tien grasped his proffered hand and pulled herself up onto the platform of the veranda.

Once safely behind the railing, she released her breath and gazed around. The shimmering blue sea, set against the deeper blue-grey backdrop of Stra Mountain, was a scene she could look at forever. No wonder the old man had come to live here. The sound and rhythm and blue of the water were mesmerizing and she could scarcely drag her gaze away.

“A drink, Madam,” The old man held out a small clean cup. Remembering her manners, she took it with thanks and drank thirstily, listening as Saka and Fen climbed the ladder. When they stepped out onto the landing, Tien noticed that Fen’s face was pink, the pale scar standing out even more in contrast to her flushed cheeks. Had the costumed men hurt her face somehow? But Fen smiled at her, seeming calm and relaxed once more.

They all stood on the veranda, drinking their water silently as they looked out at the view. It seemed right to follow the old man’s lead, and he seemed to be a bit stiff and formal, though Tien sensed that it was more to do with being out of practise with having company, than a gruff nature.

“Please come in and we will talk,” he said eventually. He led them inside, where it was cool. The walls were whitewashed, and bare of any hangings. Large tasselled cushions were scattered about on the bare floorboards. A purple drape that skimmed the floor hid the back half of the room. “I would have come to your assistance earlier, but I was having my siesta and did not hear you.” he apologized. Then with a twinkle in his eye, he added. ”Though I must point out that you are rather lucky. The last intruders had pink-barbed wasps to fend off.” He smiled fondly at the memory.

“Where did the flies come from?” Tien asked.

“What? Oh, the flies, yes! My little friends called them.”
Tien’s brow furrowed in surprise, and she glanced over to see how the others received this piece of information.

Lumin chuckled. “Goblins can speak to most winged insects, and convince them to be part of their mischief,” he explained as he eased himself carefully onto a thick wooden chair in a corner, motioning the others to sit on the cushions. He blinked hard as though his eyes ached, as he smoothed the long thinning hair from his forehead. Then he shifted himself further into the chair, so that his stooped back was well supported.

Goblins! Does he really think they are?, Tien wondered? Do you really believe that they are not?, a little voice inside asked. Surely I would know if such a creature existed and lived in our very country. But then, even Munkho called them little men. Oh, wow! Real goblins! Papa would swallow his moustache if he knew that I saw a real one. I’ll remember every detail so I can tell you, Papa. And one day I’ll write about them.

“Well then, what is your business with me?” Lumin asked. His sharp eyes rested on each of them in turn. Fen sank further back into her cushion, as if signalling that Saka could do the talking. He leaned forward obligingly.

“You may have knowledge of something we need to know. Something that we do not think we can trust the Library’s academics with,” he began in a loud voice.

The flattery tactic, huh?, Tien thought, smothering a grin. Good on you, Saka.

“No need to shout, lad. My hearing’s perfect. I can hear the crackle of my painted pebbles drying downstairs.” Lumin’s eyes gleamed as if daring his visitors to challenge his outrageous claim. No one did.
“So,” Lumin continued, “the historians and scholars are still good for nothing, but filling up each others ears with their endless jibberjabber, eh?” He pushed his spectacles back onto the bridge of his nose. “You made a wise choice there.”
His chin jutted out proudly. “They probably would not have shut up long enough for you to get a word in edgeways. ‘Focus on the basics and practical meaning,’ I would say. But no. All the good plans got lost in the endless competing. Competing to be the best and most renowned centre of knowledge.” His tone had taken on a reflective, dreamy quality, signalling that this may be a favourite topic to chew over, and that he had plenty to say on the matter.
Saka cleared his throat softly. Lumin’s eyes cleared and he looked around, as if surprised to see them.

“Oh, I am sorry. What was it you said you wanted to know about?” he said, shaking his head as if to clear out the cobwebs.
This time Saka knew to get straight to the point. “We are seeking information about an Aryk tapestry.” He paused. “It would be very old or very valuable,” he finished uncertainly.

“That’s very little to go on, isn’t it, young man.” Lumin looked at them rather severely, over steel rimmed frames. “Haven’t you any other information?”

“No, and in fact the chance of us even finding anything about it is probably remote.” Fen admitted.

“Oh, indeed? Ah well, let’s not leave it to chance then, shall we?” Lumin’s creased face was alive with interest. “It does ring a bell you know. The Aryk Tapestry…Aryk tapestry…” He closed his eyes, as he rolled the words slowly off his tongue, trying to conjure up a familiar image. “Aryk Tapestry…..Pascan Tapestry…….Tiran Tapestry……no that’s further off…..lets see. Tapestry of Aryk………no. No, but it sounds somewhat familiar. Tell me, where did the Aryks live before they settled in Pendelethe?” he asked.

Fen and Saka shot questioning looks at Tien. Caught off guard, she reddened and stammered. “Uhh, O.., Oq.., Oquis.”

19. Revelations

Lumin’s eyes lit up at the name. “Oquis!” he cried. “That’s it exactly! The Tapestries of Oquis.”

He looked eagerly into the faces of the others as if to gage their reaction. They stared uncomprehending back, waiting for his explanation. His smile faded and he sighed, muttering, “What do they teach in history classes in Pendelethe these days?,” under his breath.

Saka winked surreptitiously at the girls. “Well I cannot rely on my own memory for this tale.” Lumin grumbled. “I’ll have to check my history books. Hold on.”

He rose stiffly and hobbled towards the back part of the room that was obscured by the drape. He grasped the drape and pulled it back, revealing for an instant, a chunky wooden table creaking under several stacks of thick hardbound books, yellowed with age. Behind the table, high bookcases, filled with more ancient volumes, lined the wall. Then Lumin stepped into the makeshift study, and swept the drape across behind him. They waited for Lumin in silence. Tien snuggled into her soft deep cushion. She could hear the old man flipping pages and murmuring to himself. The curtain was drawn back again and he tottered out under the weight of two heavy tomes.

“I’m fine, “ he protested, pushing aside Saka’s helping hands. He settled back in his chair, resting the first book on the low table beside him. “Now give me a moment. This is the history of the Oquis, recording the eras before they came to Pendelethe. If I’m right, what you are looking for, should have been first documented about three hundred years ago.”

He took his time, thumbing through meticulously, peering over and sometimes, under his spectacles, to get a closer look. Finally his eyes brightened, and his pursed mouth wobbled triumphantly. He smoothed the pages before reading them carefully.

When he looked up, he beckoned them to gather round the manuscript, saying. “I think this is what you want.” He shuffled out of the way, searching their faces for a reaction as they slowly read: In the sixth year of Chief Alag, Fifth Heraldic ruler of the people of Oquis, the ambassador for Emir Roa of Zilem, paid a visit. He came to forge a pact with Oquis, promising that the Emir would protect their land from its enemies and help them prosper. To seal the pact the ambassador presented each of the four Oquis clans with a silken tapestry, whose pictures told a tale. When joined together, the pictures fitted together like a puzzle and the tale was complete. The Roan ambassador encouraged the clans to keep the tapestries joined together and to work in harmony with each other. Oquis looks forward to the next visit from Emir Roa’s envoy.

The next entry went on to document something that had nothing to do with the tapestries. They looked expectantly up at Lumin. That’s it, Tien thought in confusion? That is why the entire population of Aryk has been disassembled, and their property ransacked?

“They might be the right tapestries,” Fen ventured. “But the tapestries that the Raseen are looking for must be of great value. Would these be so special?”

“Yes, well now, this is the interesting bit. There is no more mention of the tapestries in the official Oquis chronicles. But the unofficial writings of any era, they are most illuminating, I always say.“ he chuckled. “And accurate.” A smile still lingered on his lips. He pushed his spectacles up and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “There was a young horse herder who documented, in rather a lot of detail, the history of Oquis. His writing was banned in the end. Too close to the bone, I imagine. But his diary was preserved, and I have it.”

He flipped through the smaller soft covered book, scrutinizing each page carefully and tediously. Tien wanted to yank the book out of his ponderous, trembling grasp, and flip through its pages herself. Instead she closed her eyes, and sighed.

”Ah yes, here we are.” He pushed the volume towards them at last, tapping at the place for them to start reading. The chair creaked as he rose stiffly and hobbled to his bookshelves behind the curtain again. With Saka peering over Fen and Tien’s shoulders, they began to read silently:
We wonder why our country is going to ruin? It should be no big mystery. Hello! Our impatience and greed may play some small part! We had the opportunity of a powerful ally and protector, the Emir of Zilem, in the days when my great grandmother was a girl. How do I know this? The art of storytelling is still alive in some clans of the Oquis, my friends. The best stories are the true ones, and my grandmother has faithfully passed on the history of Oquis to the next generation. In turn, I owe it to her memory to pass this unclear piece of our history on to you, to fill in the gaping holes in our annals, and correct any glossing over of the truth.
For reasons unknown, the Emir chose our struggling island to adopt, and invest his time and wealth into. How thrilled we were when he sent his ambassador to present us with the tapestries, as a gift. We sighed and exclaimed at its beauty and craftsmanship, as the ambassador showed us how we must always keep the four tapestries joined; with one at the top and the other three linked together underneath and hanging from one above. We were excited, and almost disbelieving when he told of their magical powers; that the silk worms that had provided the thread for the tapestries, had been raised only on leaves from the Tree of Good Things from the Emir’s own garden.
Each tapestry held a different gift. One was fruitfulness, one was beauty, one was knowledge, and one was confidence. We all swore that we could already feel the magic working. Then the emir’s ambassador returned home. The head of each clan took possession of one of the tapestries, and they have since remained separated. What you will not read in the annals of Oquis, what our esteemed scribes seem to have omitted, is the single stipulation from the Emir Roa concerning his gift. See, for magical things to work properly, they need to follow to the last letter, the directions for use. The tapestries’ magic would only work in the way the Emir planned; that is, only if they remained connected correctly, in the way the ambassador demonstrated to us all. And, the ambassador, informed us, the stipulation was, and here it is: If the tapestries were neglected, and not displayed in the way their magic was created for; after a time they would be drawn away, out of Oquis, each to a separate location to be protected by an guardian. And the only way they could be restored, was if a lone Oquit, carrying the Scrolls of Seasons, could successfully collect each tapestry from its guardian, and join them together as they should be.
Well, years passed, and our land prospered greatly. Occasionally, an ambassador from Zilem would pass through and enquire about the tapestries. But the subject was quickly changed, and the visitor would be hurried on their way. Gradually, the novelty of the tapestries wore off. The Oquis felt they needed fresh, innovative leadership, so they retired the aging chief who had served them well, and elected a king, in the manner of all the other lands around them. The king they chose said interesting things, wore the royal robes handsomely, and ruled with enthusiasm. (Far be it for me to gripe about these impressive credentials!)
In a relatively short period of time however, he made several foolish decisions on behalf of Oquis (one of them was to produce an heir who became the spitting image of himself). Three progressively dim halfwits succeeded him, and all this time, the people of Oquis were becoming more concerned with the individual ‘skill’ each clan had, rather than thinking as one unit. They forgot that it was the tapestry that had given them their enhanced skills. And inevitably the tapestries themselves were forgotten; they became shabby, and eventually they were bundled away and replaced.
Five years into the reign under Oquis’ fifth and very dictatorial king, the son of the emir, Prince Immo the Ageless, made an official visit to Oquis as a representative of his father. He reminded the people of their pact with his father; of the tapestries and that they should be joined together for the magic to work as it was planned. The Oquis were enraged at this reminder that their enhanced abilities were derived from the tapestries so, to placate them, king had the emperor’s son flogged publicly. His tears of pain were collected by the king as a trophy, a symbol of the weakness of Zilem and the virility of Oquis. Then the Prince was released. And now? The tapestries have been lost for years. We will never know what would have happened if they had been joined. It is a woeful tale of a woeful people.

Saka whistled under his breath. Tien sat still, her mind racing.

“So Phan knows about the tapestries.” Fen said slowly, as though she was creating a visual picture of the situation in her mind. “And if Wiggo knows about it, Thorasco may be the mastermind behind all of this, though how he fits into the puzzle I still cannot see. ”

Tien said nothing. There was too much information and new names for her to think properly. She really wanted to be able to sit down on her own and read the page aloud a few times, so it she could start to make sense of it.

“The tapestries must be somewhere near Aryk, if that is where he is looking.” Saka suggested.

“Not necessarily.” They stiffened. Lumin had returned silently and was settled back in his chair. He removed his spectacles, massaging the bridge of his nose, and continued as if he had been involved in the conversation all along. “This writing here is the original piece from the Oquis boy, and as far as I am aware there was no copy made of it. There is every chance Thorasco, and consequently Wiggo or Phan, may not know all that is documented here.”

“Which means there is a chance we could find them first!” Saka looked around eagerly at the others.

“Yes,” said the old man, “If you know where to look. Remember, if this record is to be believed the tapestries have left the Oquis, or Aryks as they are called today. Thorasco may not know that.”

“Right, and here….” Fen meandered her finger over the page, till she found what she was looking for. “Yes, here it is… I wonder if we could clarify a couple of things.” She hesitated for a time, her lips parted as if they were unable to form the words she wanted to say. Lumin waited patiently for her to continue. “This part about the lone Oquit, well… what does it mean exactly?” Fen said in a rush, tapping the paragraph with her finger.

This was the question that had entered Tien’s head, and chilled her flesh into goose bumps, as she had read the page. She already knew what the answer to that would be.

“Exactly what it says, I should imagine,” Lumin said dryly. “The Oquit lost the tapestries and only one of their own can begin to make amends by collecting them. It will be no mean feat either, by the sounds,” he said conversationally. ”Even if each tapestry is located, procuring them from their guardians will prove quite a task. But surely there will be no trouble in finding some Aryk worthy of this quest?”

Tien felt sick as Saka laughed weakly. “You’re looking at her,” he said, clapping a heavy hand on her shoulder. Lumin’s eyes bulged only slightly, and he recovered well.

“Well, I commend your courage, lass,” he said, in what he probably felt was a light-hearted tone. “Men twice your age would balk at the task that lies ahead of you.”

Tien opened her mouth to tell him that although she was the only Aryk available, she could not do this. She gasped as an elbow jarred her in the ribs. Saka sent her a warning look.

“Ahh, yes…thank you,” Tien managed. She rubbed her side and scowled at Saka.

Fen jumped in quickly. “The other unknown is this scroll. I mean, the three scrolls. What are they?”

Lumin leaned in close enough for Tien to count the pores on the knobbed tip of his nose. His skin was translucent and grooved like a crushed autumn leaf. But his eyes shone brightly with undisguised interest.

“We will be talking more of magic today, than has probably been discussed in Pendelewthe. Well at least since I have been alive to hear it,” he said, his face eager and alive. They sat, waiting for him to continue, for lack of a sensible response. “The scrolls of the seasons,” he continued, almost reverently. “Full of magic, not that any of the mob up at the library will admit it.” He indulged his scorn for a moment, raising rolling eyeballs heavenward. Then he returned to the subject at hand.
“They are three ancient parchments, their author unknown. They are titled Ago, This and What Will Be. As their titles suggest, they contain the history, the present and the future of the one that carries them: and to some extent those who are in close proximity to the carrier. Saka’s eyebrow arched disbelievingly, but Lumin did not appear to notice.

“Useful,” said Tien, her voice lilting doubtfully, so it came out like a question.

“Maybe, but I hope you never find out, lassie.” Lumin shook his head gloomily. There was a moment or two of silence, before Tien realized that the old man was waiting for them to press him for more information.

“Why is that?” she asked obediently. Satisfied in their interest, Lumin leaned in even closer.

“The scrolls are not to be opened unless permission is granted. The magic is too powerful and perilous, as anyone who does venture to read them soon discovers.” “Ok, slow down and go back a bit.”

Saka held up his hand. “You are telling us that these scrolls contain the written life story of the person that holds them, and a little of the same of those the person is near to? And that if someone else takes a turn of carrying the book, the previous writing disappears and now holds a whole new story? A story about its new handler?”

“Exactly.” The old man nodded. “But one can never read their future or anything else in any of the scrolls, without permission.” “You have been paying attention!”

“And who does one get permission from?” Saka did not bother to hide his amusement.

“If I knew, the author would no longer be unknown, would he?” Lumin looked at him pityingly. He turned back to Tien. She endured his inspection with increasing discomfort. “So,” he told her sternly, “keep them close to you and tell no-one of their power. You must resist the temptation to look at them. Have your companions help you with the temptation. Tell them when the longing to look nearly overcomes you,” he commanded. His stare boring into her, till she stammered, “Yes alright.”

“Well, we actually don’t even have them yet, and wouldn’t have a clue where to look. “ Fen looked at the old man hopefully, and he didn’t disappoint. “That’s easy. They are in the library, on display. His lip curled scornfully. “Those fools have them in a special glass cabinet. They haven’t a clue what they house in that feeble excuse for a centre of knowledge. You see,” he added in a more mellow tone. “There are only a handful of us left in Pendelethe who believe in the magical things.”

One look at the glazed expression on Saka’s face left no doubt in Tien’s mind of his feelings on magic.

Fen, however, seemed intrigued. “Well, before we can even begin to plan to get the tapestries, it sounds like we will need these scrolls. Would the library loan them to us, do you think? I mean, we could leave something of value in their place, as a guarantee of us returning them.” Even Saka glanced at Lumin to see his response to Fen’s idea.

Lumin scratched his head, and then smoothed his hair back carefully. He removed his spectacles again, and gently massaged the ruddy dented section of his nose that had supported their weight. With the corner of his tunic, he began to polish the already-gleaming discs of his spectacles in excruciatingly meticulous detail. The three companions watched his hands as though mesmerized.

They were all taken aback by the deep gurgle that began deep in Lumin’s throat. It bubbled out from his lips. A full-bodied peal of laughter, like a glass overflowing with cider. He laughed for a long time, and the sound of it climaxed to almost a howl, before petering out to wheezy giggles and sighs. He wiped his eyes as Tien, Fen, and Saka closed their gaping mouths. He replaced his glasses and looked at them with a sheepish grin. “I have an idea,” was all he said

© 2006 by Shelly Taylor

20. The Scrolls of Seasons

They made a strange procession through the main part of town.

Four goblins pushed Lumin along, on a great iron chair set on wheels. The others flanked them like a swarm of pot-bellied ants carrying home their lunch. Lumin sat as stiffly erect as his body would allow, head held high. He gazed regally around at those who stopped and stared, as a king would regard his subjects. From the anonymity of the leafy gardens nearby, Tien smiled. Lumin was really going to enjoy his afternoon jaunt to the Library.

“Quite the drama king, isn’t he?” Saka snorted under his breath. “He is revelling in the attention.”

Lumin, as it turned out, had something that the Library desired and valued highly. He had taken with him to the island, symbols of the four pillars of knowledge. They were an honour presented to him by Phan’s late uncle, King Drune, for his contributions to Pendelethe as a scholar. The symbols were small sculptures fashioned from pure gold. A book, a lamp, a quill, and a man wearing teacher’s robes with his arms stretched out, his lips parted. Lumin seemed sure that an exchange could be made; the symbols for the scrolls.

After the idea had struck him, it had taken a while to organize all that needed to be done. Fen, Saka, and Tien had run around, fetching things for Lumin as he sat in his chair, leaning forward impatiently, his face alive with the anticipation of his return to Pasco. He’d wanted them to come along to see it all unfold, but had reluctantly understood that they must remain unseen and unknown. He settled on sending Frizzark, his chief goblin, to meet them at Munkho’s that night, with the scrolls.
“Farewell,” he’d said as the left him at the docks. “My friends are in your debt. They behaved appallingly. If you ever need our assistance, don’t hesitate to ask.”

The odd-looking little men gathered solemnly on the beach to wave them off with stiff formality. By the time they left the docks, just ahead of Lumin and his entourage, the companions were tired and did not say much in the boat. They lingered in the town centre only long enough to see Lumin arrive, before getting to Munkho’s comfortable lodging just after dusk. They briefly outlined their time with Lupin to Munkho and Berry over dinner, and went to bed. Tien had been asleep only a few minutes when she woke to gentle shaking.

“Tien, wake up. I’m so sorry, but Frizzark will only deliver the scrolls to you. He is waiting outside.”

Tien stumbled out of bed, grabbing the cloak around her, squinting in the soft radiance of the lamp. Munkho ushered her out, and pointed out the shadowy figure standing next to the cherry tree just outside her front door, before going back in with the lamp and closing the door behind her. Tien blinked at the lingering images of the lamp’s silhouette that still blinded her vision, as she adjusted to the night’s gloom. Frizzark stood still, the knees of his twig-like legs almost touching, hugging the scrolls in his bony grasp.

“Miss Tien?” He asked in a deep, rather proper voice. Tien nodded. Frizzark beckoned to her, and she moved closer. “Mr. Lumin, he wanted me to hand these to you directly,” he murmured, just above a whisper. “He has a message for you.”
Tien stood still waiting, hoping her head would clear so she could remember.

“Never open the scrolls, though you be tempted sorely to do so. You may find that your dreams are affected by having the scrolls in your care. Whether the dreams are about you or those with you, tell no one else of them. Don’t forget.” She nodded. “And Mr Lumin also has sent this.” He gave her the slim volume written by the horse herder. “Read the horse herder’s words carefully. Then you can make a plan.” he said.

He repeated these words again slowly, before rasing his cap to her, and fading away into the night. Before climbing back into bed, Tien wrapped the scrolls up in her cloak and put then under the edge of her pillow. She closed her eyes and tried to think of peaceful things, but it was difficult to sleep, with the weight of the responsibility of caring for the scrolls on her mind. They lay solid and bulky under her pillow, just near where her head lay.

Magic. I’ve never believed in magic before, she thought sleepily. I’m sceptical now. But what would magic feel like? Would I know magic if I came across it? It’s probably just an illusion, a lie to convince my ancestors that they were receiving special treatment. She yawned and her eyelids drooped. It’s no wonder the Parthans wised up and become disbelievers of magical things, with that in their history. All the same, I’ll guard these scrolls till I have to….

She was amazed to see Haim running in front of her, racing to get home first, so as to beat her in telling Mama about the snake in the orchard. His bare feet slapped against the wet grass, and she was close enough to hear his panting breath. The air was warm and sweet with the scent of blossoms and trampled grass. The chickerloos chirruped and droned their song. She reached out her hand to yank Haim back behind her, but he vanished, and she fell over the space where he’d been. She got up tenderly, wiping wet knees, and calling out for Haim in a teasing voice. But the orchard was gone.

She was in a cool room of sandstone. Tien gazed about her, puzzled but not concerned. A round woven rug covered most of the floor in a splash of deep greens and purples. Two low oak lounges with flame-red cushions were set together, forming a corner around the rug. The rest of the room was bare, but for the large pots of greenery that were placed haphazardly around. Tien could see that the room led out to a patio where the trees and flowers created an oasis. She could hear the trickle and splash of running water.

A girl of Tien’s age walked in. She was swathed in a towel, and her black hair was damp. A young servant followed, carrying a basket full of miniature clay containers. The girl sat on the lounge and vigorously shook out her hair, sending out a small shower of droplets that rained down on Tien’s arms, cooling them.

“Make it quick, Oppy.” The girl instructed. “I told Saka I’d be ready to go before the hour is up. Otherwise he won’t wait for me.”

“Yes, m’lady Prusience.” The servant pulled the stopper from one container and poured some of its contents into her palm. She rubbed her hands together to warm the liquid and began to massage it into the girl’s hair with expert fingers. The musky scent of sandalwood reached Tien, whom neither had noticed. This done, the servant applied a cream with the same sandalwood base, to the girl’s face, neck and shoulders, rubbing it in till the girl’s skin glowed. Prusience rose to her feet.

“Thanks, Oppy.” She moved over to a flowering butterfly bush and lowered her face to its fluttering blossoms. “I’ll wear my blue shirt and the belt I bought,” she said, without raising her head. “You know, the one with the little green shells sewn all around the edge.”

The servant smiled and silently went out of the room. Prusience crossed over to a little table standing where the two couches met. On it was a plate of fruit and bread, and a delicate glass bottle with peach-coloured fluid in it. She picked up the bottle and held it up to the sunlight, examining the rich glowing juice inside. She poured half of the bottle into a glass and sipped. It must have been sour, because she shuddered, sticking her tongue out.

" Aggh!” Tightening the towel that covered her, she took another sip, then another, as though the taste was growing on her. She looked around at the plants as she did. As she sipped, she started moving her head back and forth. Tien was unaware that she herself had moved around the room to better observe girl.

Prusience was looking from left to right, then from top to bottom, experimentally. She blinked rapidly, shaking her head. A cry like a kitten’s mew came from her mouth as she rubbed at her eyes. Tien had stepped in close and saw, to her horror, that the girl’s clear green eyes were being filled with a milky film, as if a glass of cream was being poured into each. Her cry became loud and anguished, as she slapped at her eyes as if to stop their stinging. The glass fell to the floor and shattered. Startled by the sound, Pruesuince jumped, and tried to step away from the shards of glass that she could not see. She stumbled and reaching out a hand to steady herself, she crashed heavily into the little table, sending the food and drink flying. She began to scream…….

“Tien, Tien.” She was being shaken. “Wake up, sweetie. It’s just a bad dream”

Two warm hands on her shoulder pulled her up and out of the dream. She clapped a hand over her mouth, as she realized that the screams had come from her. “I’m OK.” She gasped. “Sorry about waking you up.” Ten minutes later, she was settled in bed again. She was wide awake and still the dream had not faded. She could remember every detail, as if she had really been there, even the girl’s name, Prusience, would never leave her. She had mentioned Saka. Who is she? Where is she now? “Never tell anyone of the dreams you have.” The message from Lumin appeared like a sign in her mind.

***

After an early breakfast, the companions started out to Flip’s house, led capably by Munkho through the steep winding streets of Pasco. Almost all the buildings were made of marble, and featured ornate pillars. Even the modest homes had pillars and flat roofs. They turned into an avenue, shaded on both sides with blossoming cherry trees, and came to a stop outside a small apartment. Munkho rapped confidently. A couple of minutes passed with no answer, no sign of any life within. Munkho rapped again.

Finally, footsteps drew near, and low boyish voice said, ”Yes?”

“Llarof modeerf,” said Munkho, her lips against the door.
“Come again?”
“Llarof modeerf,” she repeated.

The door swung open, and a pale-faced man stared out at them with wide, frightened eyes. When he saw their cloaks, he pulled them inside and furtively glanced up and down the street. Flip closed and bolted the door, before joining them in the sparsely furnished room. He stood apart from them; raking an agitated hand through his jaundiced hair and making it stand on end.

“How did you find me?” he breathed. His eyes swept over all of them, coming back to linger on Berry, a flush creeping up his neck. His dark Tiran roots were starting to grow out, though they were not too obvious yet. Tien felt nervous just looking at him. He was jumpy, his hands were either mussing up his hair, or in his mouth being chewed. Is it nervous energy, she wondered, or just his personality? After standing awkwardly for a time, they sat down without Flip’s permission. Saka introduced them all.

“Are you really members of the Watch?” Flip asked. His left knee jiggled. Then he laughed self-consciously, “Of course you are, you know the code. Andron told me only a little about your work. But I didn’t have any of your names so I could contact you.” His voice choked. “I haven’t known what to do, or where to even start. Ever since Andron was taken…,,” he broke off, veiling his eyes with a trembling palm.

Tien looked away to give him privacy, and she saw that Fen’s eyes were moist as well. They sat in sympathetic silence till he composed himself. Flip brushed his sleeve over his eyes. “Sorry about that,” He said in a gruff voice. The others murmured reassuringly. “I am just so relieved to see you. I’ve been so frightened you see, wondering every day if I will be recognized and recaptured.”

“Flip, do you know where they have taken Andron?” Saka asked. As Flip shook his head, Saka persisted. “Any clues you can think of? He isn’t dead, you know.” Flip’s eyes widened hopefully. “It is vital that we find him. He is the key to a recipe that is an antidote.” Flip nodded. Saka continued. “ Is there anything you can recall about the day Andron was hauled off?”

© 2006 by Shelly Taylor

21. The Capture of Andron

Flip screwed his left eye closed, as though squinting would unlock more of his memory. “It has become so blurred in my mind now…. I need to think.”

He rubbed the tips of his fingers into his temples. “Andron and I were taken by surprise. We were asleep in our rooms. I remember that I woke to a cloth being pressed over my face. Then I passed out. They used chloroform,“ he added, by way of explanation. “When I came to, I was disoriented. We were bound hand and foot, and were being jolted about in a covered cart. I can tell you, it didn’t mix well with the effects of the chloroform.” He grimaced at the memory.

“Andron was unconscious for a long time. We journeyed for hours over a rough road, and the goats seemed to struggle to pull us along. The cart was stopped regularly to change goats. Oh and I remember that they used Bulsar goats. Bulsars are used for high altitudes and hard labour aren’t they?” He did not stop to have this confirmed. “Anyways, so we must have travelled like that for a couple of days, because we could see the changes in light through the cracks in the roof+. “

His eyes were closed, and they quivered under thin lids, as though he was seeing it in detail all over again. “Two raseen climbed into the cart,” his voice trembled. “Aren’t they terrible brutes? They were unnecessarily rough, though we never tried to resist them. They blindfolded us and dragged us out. It was bitterly cold, and my feet were grazed on the gritty road. Oh, and did it sting! The raseen had obviously been told to keep us alive and unharmed, so we were fed and watered. Like the goats.” he managed a weak smile. “Then we were told to lay flat on the ground, on our stomachs. I thought that was the end for us, but we had no choice but to obey.”

He was back on his feet now, pacing the room slowly as if the movement was unravelling his memory like a ball of yarn. “We felt ourselves in motion, being lifted onto stretchers. One of the raseen shouted out that we must not move, or we would fall to our deaths. I believed that,” he stressed, pulling out a white handkerchief edged with red roses and mopping the perspiration from his brow. He suddenly became aware the dainty pattern, and awkwardly stuffed it back in his pocket, unconsciously ploughing a hand through his hair again. Berry smirked, but transformed it into a smile as Flip snuck a look at her. The others remained silent, waiting for him to continue. ‘I don’t know why they used stretchers to carry us, though I’ve tried to work it out.” He paused to gnaw on his thumbnail.

“There were only two carriers for each stretcher, of that I am certain, and they ran most of the way. No one, not even a raseen, is strong enough to run under the weight of a grown man. At least not for the length of time we were carried. I wondered if maybe the carriers were baboons.” He looked around at them, as though he thought they might laugh at the idea. No one smiled. “They never talked you see, and we were carried like that for hours, it seemed. The bite of the wind was unbearably cold, and there was no escape from it. It was hours,“ he confirmed in a confident tone, ”because I remember that the sun was starting to go down when we were met by the raseen at the end of our journey. "

“We were taken inside. I think the cold had nearly frozen Andron. He was bundled off to a separate room, to be warmed. My arms were freed and I was given warm clothes, and told to put them on. Then they left me lying alone on the floor of a different room. They knew I couldn’t escape. Not when I was bound by the legs, gagged and blindfolded. All was silent for a while. I was weak and disoriented; so I used the extra clothes as a blanket instead of putting them on. How could I have pulled the pants up anyhow?

I was trying to sleep so I could conserve energy, when I was grabbed from behind. I can tell you; I nearly bit my tongue off in terror. A hand covered the rag around my mouth, and a voice whispered, ’ Keep still and we will get you out of here. ‘ Or something like that. Then my blindfold was removed and my legs were freed. As I undid the gag, my rescuer led me outside to his Bulsar. All I could see were shadows, because darkness had fallen. My teeth were chattering, because I hadn’t put on the warm garments.“

He shivered, hugging his arms against his body. He looked round at them briefly, and continued. “Then suddenly, the raseen came out, and saw us. My rescuer didn’t hesitate. He hoisted me onto the goat and swung up behind me. ‘Hold on tight and don’t let go, no matter what happens,’ he said. So I did. The bulsar took off, with the raseen left shouting in our wake, and arrows whizzing past us. Then all at once, my rescuer wasn’t behind me anymore, and there were no more arrows. Just myself and the bulsar, racing through the bitter night.”

His voice was low and expressionless, his eyes glazed. ”I do not recollect how long it was before the beast bore me to a grassy place, but that is where it stopped. The bulsar was waiting for me to dismount, so I slid off, falling asleep where I lay. When I awoke, the sun was warm on my back. I recognized my surroundings, close to the Pascan highroad. After a while, I realized that the bulsar was still standing beside me, so I got up and opened the bag that was fastened around its girth. I fed it the water and biscuits that I found there, and I took the money. Then it left. And here I am. “ He swept his hands towards his chest in a half-hearted attempt at bravado, but his sad smile gave him away.

© 2006 by Shelly Taylor

24. Fistova

Black withered hay crunched under Thorasco’s boots as he strode through the once lush ameythr meadows. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes shone clear in his tanned face. His hair was tied back, and he wore a white tunic trimmed with silver.

At the oak tree, he stopped and sat down with crossed legs and a straight back, his lips quivering with a secret smile. Only his eyelashes fluttered when the tread of boots came from the forest behind him. The footsteps came close and then stopped. All was still.

“Don’t tiptoe about, Brogo. Come out of the shadows.”

A figure in a brown tunic, stepped out from the trees. His face was obscured by a shawl. “I came as soon as I could, Excellency,” he said, bowing stiffly. He pulled back the shawl, revealing a large head with sparse brown hair. The man’s feature’s were broad and coarse; a boxer’s face.

“I was concerned that you had forgotten what I required of you.” Thorasco said, turning to stare at Brogo with lightly raised eyebrows.

“Excellency, how could I forget? But as I had already picked the cream of my crop to go to Pendelethe as your raseen, finding the calibre of men you specified, took some time. But it is my humble opinion that you will be satisfied with my selection.”

“I have no doubt, my friend. “ Thorasco smiled as he rose to his feet. “Where are they?”

“If it please your Excellency to step this way…” Brogo ducked his head and indicated an expansive hand towards the forest. Thorasco followed him to a cart covered with a black cloth. with a swift motion, Brogo swept the cloth aside, revealing a dozen men huddled together.

“Rise up and salute your Emperor!” Brogo cried.

The men clambered awkwardly out of the cart and formed a straggled line. They saluted and murmured, “Excellency.”

Thorasco tilted his head to one side as he walked slowly past the men, looking at each one carefully. Dressed only in a loincloth, each man’s head had been crudely shaved. Ragged bits of flesh were all that remained of the prisoner’s ears, signifying that all had been convicted of violent crimes. But there was no sign of defiance in their faces as Thorasco scrutinized each one. They kept their eyes downcast.

Finally the emperor stood back. “Has your governor told you of the opportunity I am offering you?” He addressed his question to the man standing closest to him.

The prisoner, a powerfully built man, shook his head slightly, and said “No Excellency.”

Thorasco looked thoughtful. “Well Brogo, tell them.”

Brogo smirked. “With pleasure, Excellency.” He straightened up to his full height, and stepped up close to the men. “Opportunity of a lifetime boys.” The briefest of looks was exchanged between some of the men, but it was enough for Thorasco to see the contempt they had for their governor. His lips twitched as he rubbed a thumb along his chin.

“You don’t need to know all the details now,” Brogo continued. “But your life sentences of hard labour in the quartz mines, will be overturned if you agree to train for, and join the Emperor’s army for a period of four years.”

The prisoners’ eyes flickered up to look at Brogo’s face. They had not expected this.

“It should be an easy task for you boys,” Brogo said with a sneer. “Doing those things that come naturally to you, the things that landed you in my dungeon in the first place.”

One of the men, the smallest at the far end of the line, glanced at Brogo. His chin quivered.

“Oh that reminds me.” Brogo spoke in a disparaging tone. “After the last shipment for the raseen, we only had eleven prisoners remaining that were suitable for what you need, Excellency. So I have personally been preparing this one,” he pointed at the smaller man, “to make up the dozen. It is a bit of an experiment, and we will soon see if he is up to standard.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

“He has endured five organized beatings from the men he stands beside. And I promoted him to Chief administrator of Floggings and Amputations. Valuable training. Turns a boy into a man, and a man into a beast,” he sneered, with a sly glance at Thorasco. “And leaves them wanting more blood.”
A nerve pulsed wildly in the prisoner’s cheek, but he did not move. “How many floggings have you personally carried out, Denta?” Brogo barked suddenly.

“Twenty eight floggings, sir.”

“Speak up. And how many ears and thumbs have you personally amputated?”

The prisoner swallowed hard. “Eighty seven pairs of ears and..”

“Speak up!”

“Fifty four thumbs.”

“And you relished your job…”

“Enough, Brogo,” said Thorasco, shaking his head with a fond smile. “Now gentlemen, if you agree to join my forces, Brogo will take you to the underground training camp, where you will be tested for loyalty, and trained for leadership. You have been handpicked to become officers of my troops.” He chuckled at their stunned expressions. “The New Order that you will command is not human. The commanders that you will work alongside are not like any creatures you have ever seen. I need brutal men, who are not fainthearted, to serve me in this capacity. Are you up to the task?” The prisoners nodded as one.
“Good, then climb back into the cart and you will be taken to the training camp. Good fortune to you all.” He turned on his heel and left. “Oh, and Brogo,” he called back. “You’d better wash them down with vinegar before they get to the camp, or they’ll be mistaken for lunch.”

***

Saka lay in speechless agony, his body twitching. His eyes bulged out from their sockets, and he sucked in his breath with a sharp hiss. Tien was rooted to the spot, staring down at him in horrified fascination.

“Tien!” She started at Fen’s sharp tone. “Get your cloak and put it on the ground.” She hurriedly pulled it out of her pack and spread it out on the grass. Fen and Flip eased Saka onto it. When Saka had first fallen, Flip immediately started searching the area he’d been in, and now he returned to this task. After a moment, he uttered a triumphant ‘aha!’. He eased the pack off his back and opened it up, his face flushed as he selected a long set of tweezers and elbow-length rubber gloves from his equipment.
“Fistova!” he called over his shoulder. “That is what got him. No wonder he is in such pain. I’ll use its poison to make a quick tonic. It should reduce the deadly bloating that the fistova can cause.”

It seemed to Tien, that the drops from Fen’s vial greatly eased Saka’s pain. But his entire leg had inflated, straining against the seams of his trousers, and the section of his leg that was visible had swelled and turned the mottled purple-green hue of a nasty bruise. Beneath the discoloured skin, a pale fluid bubbled thickly, like a pot of boiling soup. Tien looked at it in disbelief. Was the fistova’s poison alive, and taking over his body?

“Tien, you hold the pant fabric up while I cut it off him. Yes, that’s it, as high away from his skin as you can.” Fen held aloft her sharp blade, dropping with a start, as Flip yelled out loudly. Then, as he waved to show he was all right, she clucked her tongue, picked up the knife and turned back to her task. Saka’s movements were weak now and his body shuddered with silent sobs.

“What kind of insect or animal is this fistova, that it can do this to someone?” Tien whispered, her eyes brimming with tears. It was a nightmare to watch Saka, and not really be able to help him. What he was enduring must be even worse than the pain she’d had after her branding. Tien wished she could erase suffering with a snap of her fingers. Now that would be a useful magic, she thought fleetingly. Better than a stupid roll of paper that causes dreams.

Fen shook her head in response to Tien’s question. But what Flip carried back in the fast ebbing light, held out away from his body, was neither insect nor animal. It was a creeper plant, whose flowers were fluid-filled sacs with hooked tips. They reminded Tien of a scorpion’s tail. Even though the fistova had been uprooted, its flowers twisted around with slow, wormlike movements, as if they were trying to reach up and sting Flip. He dragged his pack away from the others with his right foot, and then scuffed off his sandal so he could use his toes to pick up a knife. He placed the writhing fistova on the pack, and cautiously sliced off a flower. After wrapping the rest of the plant up in a piece of fabric, he severed the hook from the flower and drained the flower’s juice into a little mixing goblet. That done, he relaxed. He set to work opening and adding drops of various bottles to the concoction. When he was satisfied with his brew, he poured some of the mixture into another, smaller goblet. He briskly stirred it all together and carried the first goblet over to where an unconscious Saka lay. He handed it to Fen, who tilted Saka’s head up and poured it carefully down his throat.

“That will get rid of the bilious poison in his system,” Flip said in a hushed voice, as Fen gently laid Saka’s head back onto the cloak. He went back to the pack and briefly consulted his notes, before opening a bottle of strong smelling liquid. Tien watched him pour a generous amount of the liquid into the smaller goblet that he’d set aside earlier. This he poured into a glass bottle with a small amount of white powder in it. Flip put the lid on and gently swirled it around. Brown bubbles foamed and frothed thickly as the powder dissolved. Flip looked at Tien. “This rubbing lotion needs to be massaged into Saka’s affected leg every few hours, to reduce the bloat and prevent gangrene.” He held up a large pair of leather gloves. ”We’ll wear these gloves when we do the massaging. Their texture will help the skin to absorb the lotion quicker.” Tien nodded.






It was a subdued group that settled around the fire and nibbled leftover bread and maize. They decided to sleep in shifts, so that they could massage Saka’s leg. He slept heavily, but moaned and tossed in fits of discomfort. The swelling in his leg went down quickly, which made the massaging much easier. Both Tien and Fen found the gloves too big and cumbersome, and used their bare hands instead.

Tien didn’t mind that the others were all asleep while she sat and looked up at the star-strewn blanket of darkness above them. The vastness of the night sky made her feel small but safe. Somewhere under this same sky, her family was also asleep, and she felt closer to them. She counted three hundred large stars before giving up. Yawning, she reached over for the lotion. Saka snored gently as Tien began to massage it in.

****

They slept in the next morning, for heavy storm clouds had formed overnight, dimming the sun. Saka slept peacefully now, Tien noticed, as she looked over at him from the snug warmth of her cloak and blanket. She lay there contentedly. There was no need to get up, none of the others had stirred. The fire had all but gone out, and thin spirals of smoke curled up from the grey lumps that remained. A fly settled in the corner of Tien’s eye and she raised a hand to brush it away.
The back of her hand felt limp and heavy, her fingers dragging across her eyelid like pieces of overcooked spaghetti. Tien’s eyes widened as she pulled up her other hand and held them both out in front of her. She screamed in fright.

Her palms flopped backwards over her forearms like wilted flowers drooping on their stalks. She flopped them back so she could see her fingers. The limp digits hung lifeless. She tried to wiggle them. Nothing. Panicked, Tien shook her arms, and the hands slapped back and forth. She looked desperately around at the others for help.

Fen was on her knees, her head oddly pressed onto the ground. She struggled to raise herself up. Something was very wrong. In the end, she rolled over onto her back, and sat up slowly, straining her back and scissoring her legs. Then Fen looked at her arms to see what was hindering her. Her hands were wobbling like a pair of gloves.



Saka sat up. He looked in sleepy stupor at the girls’ flaccid hands for a moment, before his mouth dropped open and he reacted. Throwing off his cloak, Saka rolled forward onto his knees, but as he attempted to stand up, his right leg slithered free from his kneeling position, and lay stretched out behind him, wobbling slightly. He rolled onto his left leg and the right one slid over onto it, dangling over his shin, like the trunk of a dead elephant. He bellowed in confusion.

Flip must have been out on an early morning stroll, for he came racing back with his notebook and a net clutched in his hands. When he saw the three of them, his expression was one of dismay rather than surprise. As he flung a guilty look towards his massage oil, Fen yelped, “What have you done! Can you fix this?”

“Oh no,” Flip moaned to himself. He looked thoroughly miserable. “I can barely read my own notes in the daylight, what was I thinking of last night? Uhh..just wait there.” He flashed a nervous smile at them. “I can make it all better.”

As he fumbled with his pack, knocking his tools and ingredients over in his haste, the others sighed and lay back down to wait. What else can we do, Tien thought as she experimentally flipped her palms back and forth, and watching as they slapped against her forearms like wet laundry. Yelling at Flip wouldn’t help. He seemed to be clumsy at the best of times. Under pressure, who knew how much worse it could get? Tien thought of Flip’s awkward behaviour around Berry, and smiled to herself. Thank goodness Berry wasn’t here, she thought, because Flip’s self-conscious clumsiness around her may have caused a cataclysmic event.

“Oh my,” Flip exclaimed, from where he knelt by his pack. “ That’s what I’ve done! I thought that was what it was, when I saw your …ahh….” he stole a shamefaced look at Fen’s hands. “I’m so silly,” he went on. “Andron kept telling me to get individual bottles, so that no two ingredients could be mistaken for each other. And I meant to, but buying them in sets of six, all one shape, is so economical.’

“What did you do to us man? Spit it out!” Saka was trying to heave one of his flaccid legs back onto the cloak he was lying on. The women could offer him no assistance, and Flip appeared too afraid to venture close to his general vicinity. Saka glared at Flip in exasperation. “How long will righting this catastrophe take? That is to say, can you fix it? And I tell you, the answer had better be ‘yes’.’”

“Oh it is. Yes. The answer I mean.“ Flip glanced up from the bottles, looking tense. Tien smothered a grin. ”Well I was almost right, “ He looked hopefully at the trio. They sat in silence, waiting. Flip sighed.

“I put the wrong type of vinegar in the massage oil, you see. I meant to add tart apple vinegar, a little touch I came up with my self.“ He began to chuckle modestly, but choked it back as he remembered that the circumstances were not good. “It helps with absorption,” he tried to explain. “The cherry vinegar looks just like it, but it is much more potent. Cherry vinegar is absorbed straight into anything that it comes into contact with, and it turns bones, or any hard object into flexible, bendable… things,” he finished lamely.

“And?” Saka demanded.

“Oh, don’t worry.” Flip stammered. His hair was standing up like a hen’s frill. “I can reverse the affects of the cherry vinegar. Turin adder venom soaks up toxins from the body, and I have some here in powdered form. I will make it into a paste for you to rub into your affected limbs.” His face suffused with colour, as he looked at their hands and Saka’s legs, and he said, “What I mean is, I will rub it in for you“.

Flip’s hands flew over his bottles and powder jars as he continued, “After your skin has absorbed the paste, I‘ll rub in a new lotion and your bones should soon be back to normal. You know, I have never seen this happen before, so I would very much value your feedback….” His voice trailed off uncertainly.

“Oh, you’ll be receiving my feedback, don’t you worry about that!” Saka growled testily.

Tien burst out laughing. She couldn’t help it. Any way you looked at it, this predicament was hilarious. The others glanced at her in surprise as she giggled helplessly, trying in vain to cover her mouth with her droopy hands. Fen’s lips twitched at the sight, then she chuckled, waggling her own limp fingers in comic disapproval. This set Tien off again, and they were soon both doubled over, snorting and choking with laughter. Saka shook his head grumpily, but their merriment was infectious. For several moments Flip stared in amazement as the three of them rolled around, their limbs flailing uncontrollably and their hoots of laughter ringing out around the plains.

Flip rubbed the paste onto Tien’s arms, and then splashed on a berry juice potion that smelt like fermenting fruit. As he moved on to the others, Tien sat and wriggled her fingers, curious to see what would happen. Almost immediately, she experienced a bizarre sensation in the centre of her palm, which radiated out towards her fingers. It wasn’t painful, nor was it pins and needles. More a feeling of warmth, as though her hands had been frozen and were now thawing. The warmth passed, and then her hands were itching, somewhere deep within the bones. At first she couldn’t scratch, because her fingers were too weak, but as the feeling intensified, she rubbed her hands together frantically, and found that her flaccid bones were hardening.

It took some time for Saka’s legs to be strong enough to bear his weight. Tien wondered if there would be any long-term effects on their bones, but she felt it would be rude and ungrateful to ask.
It was midday before they were back on track and heading for the mountains.

“What is a mar?” Tien asked, thinking how much easier it was to ask these questions without Berry being around, but immediately felt ashamed of herself. Berry’s face had been so sad when she left.

“Let’s let it be a surprise.” Fen grinned at her. “All I’ll say is, they are cute and harmless.” Tien raised sceptical eyebrows at her and smiled back. Fen’s quiet self-assurance and kind nature had changed the way Tien perceived her, and she no longer noticed Fen’s scarred face.

“So what you are saying is that they are safe transport?” Tien persisted. “You know what I am like about heights.” She was only half joking.
“Well, I was only a child last time I was on one, and I sat behind my father.” Saka said cheerfully. He was bouncing on his toes every few steps as if to make sure his bones were not going soft again. “But I felt safe. The mar seemed huge, with a broad back. It wasn’t too bumpy a ride as I recall.”

© 2006 by Shelly Taylor

22-23. A Place to Start

‘Thankyou for telling us your story, Flip. You remembered a great deal. Any details are helpful.“ Munkho spoke softly and her eyes were red. “The man that rescued you was the Watcher I worked with. Talis.“

Flip’s eyes widened, as Munkho continued. ”We work in pairs, you see. But on this occasion he went alone. I was gone and he didn’t wait till I got back.”

Saka reached for Munkho’s hand, and she laughed gruffly through her tears. “I’ll be fine, but we cannot let his death be in vain. We have to finish what he started, and get Andron back. We have to.” She brushed her hand across her eyes, and sniffed hard, before turning her attention back to Flip. “Let’s go over what you remember, Flip,“ she urged. “ You said it was cold and…”

“Freezing,” Flip stressed. “The wind bit through my clothes and at the end of my journey in the stretcher, a cap of ice had formed on my hair.”

“Right. So, icy cold… windy….”

“You said there was hard gravel on the road?” Saka interrupted.

“Yes. Actually you’ll never believe this, but I still have a piece of the gravel!” Flip stood up, his voice rising. “ A bothersome bit got stuck between my toes, while I was still bound. I tried to shake it out, but it wouldn’t budge. When your friend, Talis, untied me, I pulled it out. It felt unusual, so I stashed it in the pouch around my neck. I’d completely forgotten about it till now. “

He pulled a thin leather band from beneath his shirt, and fumbled to open the pouch that hung from it. With great care, he tipped the contents into his palm; two miniature clusters of black gravel, their surface dull and porous. Flip held them out to Saka, who shook his head and nodded in Fen’s direction.

“Best we let our tracker have a squiz first,” he grinned.

Fen held out her hand for the stones, then she crossed over to the window and opened one of the shutters. “It can’t be,” she said, after inspecting them from all angles in the natural light, “It can’t be, because it doesn’t make sense, but it looks like this gravel has been cultured from molten lava.”

“Sooo?,” Saka said, inviting her to continue.

“So,” Fen said. “There are only two volcanoes in Pendelethe, and they are south of Aryk. It would have been impossible for the raseen, and even for baboons to have carried them that far in such a short span of time. Add to that the bulsar bringing Flip back here, well….., a bulsar is swift, but….” Fen shrugged, passing the small rocks around the group.

Tien rolled the black lumps about in the cup of her palm. They looked familiar. She had seen something like this before. But where? On this trip? No. She stared at the wall as she racked her brain. Then she remembered. That was it!

“I think carts full of this gravel used to travel along the coast road, past my home in Panzaar,” she blurted out. “If they were coming from the Volcanoes of Luuon, they would have gone that way, even though it’s longer, to avoid the Boulder Waste.”

“OK, excellent!” Munkho cried. “We have a start. Flip, do you have a map of Pendelethe around here?”

“Ahh.., well, hold on, I’ll have a look.”

Flip went into the next room, and soon they heard the flurry of hasty rummaging. Something heavy was being dragged across the floor, with muffled grunts of exertion. Fen, was just pulling out the map she carried in her pack, when Flip returned, holding out a yellowed book triumphantly, his face flushed and his hair standing on end. Fen hastily replaced her map as, with a flourish, Flip opened the book’s front cover and revealed a small, outdated map. Berry turned her amused cackle into a chest-thumping cough, as the others politely gathered round to study the map. Saka trailed his finger along the coast road, heading north from the volcanos through Aryk and up to Pasco. Near the join where the Rime Sea and the border between Pendelethe and the Locked Lands met in at a point, was the Teeter Ranges. He rested his fingertips there thoughtfully, before looking around at the others.

“Cold,” he said, holding up one finger. ”Windy.” He raised a second finger.

Munkho interrupted. “And the path that winds around the mountain to the top is narrow, only wide enough for one. The slight sure-footed baboons would be perfect for making that trek single file, with stretchers. In fact it all makes sense.” She grinned. “The stones. I remember hearing that the winds there are so fierce, someone was once blown right off the track. You see, the edge is hard and slippery. No grip for your feet. Bringing in something that travellers could dig their toes into, solved the problem. Cartloads of gravel!”

“Well,“ Flip broke in. “If that’s where we were being taken, no wonder we froze. Teeter Range is about 15,000 feet high. I think we were being taken to a prison or holding cell there. They mentioned a box. Everything about our capture was dreadful, but the idea of being kept in a box was unimaginable for me. I am terrified of heights and small enclosed spaces.”

Tien’s face burned as her thoughts raced back to the night when she had been too afraid to jump out of the window at Green Moon Inn. Surely the others must be remembering it as well. How humiliating. She kept her gaze on Flip, determined not to glance around to see if any of them, especially Berry, were smirking at her.

“The box?’ Munkho said, with a look of dawning comprehension. She thought for a moment, then nodded and said. “This is the place. Look.” With an apologetic glance at Flip, she closed his map, and held out her hand for Fen’s. She spread it out over the table and pointed out where, in the far right corner of Pasco, the peaks of the Teeter Range were clearly visible. “This is where a childhood of growing up around historians becomes useful,” she grinned. “In the days before the borders of Tira, Aryk and Pasco were drawn up, dangerous prisoners were sent to the box. It was, and probably still is, a small chamber that is attached to the face of the Teeter Range by a pulley. It just hangs off the precipice.”

Saka’s face was alight with hope. “We have to at least go there and see if this is where Andron is,” he said, his knees beginning to jiggle. “It would take too long to walk all that way, but there are mar farms near the foot of Teeter Range. Mars can reach high altitudes, so that may be a quick way of getting there.” He looked around at the others. Fen nodded. “We need to hurry, he will be losing hope.”

Tien had no idea what a mar was. She noticed Fen mouthing a silent message to Saka. He nodded, smoothing his eyebrow and eye with his palm.

“Look Flip,” he began. “It is inevitable that you will be found out and captured if you stay here. Come with us. Your knowledge of plants and medicines will be invaluable on the trip. What do you say?”

Flip blinked in surprise, then a relieved grin creased his face. “Well, I was only an apprentice,” he said modestly, “and a new one at that. But I still have the notes I took from my lessons with Andron. Of course I will come with you. Actually, I can’t tell you how very good that sounds! When do we go?”

“Right away.” Fen’s voice softened as she turned to Berry.

“Berry, Munkho needs a partner now that she is without Talis.” Tien sucked in her breath, and stared at the other women. Without even glancing at Saka, Berry nodded, her expression unreadable. Flip’s grin faltered slightly.

“Right, we’ll be off then, before the crowds go home.” Munkho rose, farewelling them all fondly. Berry went through the motions of doing the same, and then they were gone. It had all happened so quickly, Tien wasn’t even sure how she felt about having Berry gone.

“Hold on,” Flip was saying, with new life in his tone. “ I’ll get my things. I haven’t collected much while I’ve been here, and there is nothing in what I’ll leave behind that’ll give any clues as to who I am.” He disappeared into the other room, while Fen studied the map, familiarizing herself with the route to Teeter Ranges.

After a few moments and much scuffling, Flip returned with his pack. He opened it proudly. “Tools of the trade,” he said. “Though they are nothing so grand as Andron’s bag of tricks.” His face fell. “I wonder if he’ll ever see his pack again.” Flip’s pack resembled a doctor’s bag. Each bottle was labelled carefully and wedged into a special pocket, so it travelled securely. Two sets of leather gloves, a handmade net, a couple of knives, slender mixing spoons, several empty vials, a tattered pad of notes, and a magnifying glass were also somehow fitted in. Saka slapped him approvingly on the back.

They stepped out of the house and Flip locked the door behind him. It was early afternoon, and the streets were busy, so they were able to backtrack through the market unnoticed, stopping only to purchase hunks of roasted maize and dripping hot camel strips from a street vendor. Moments later, the companions were walking out of the same city gates they had entered the morning before. Tien was grateful that she’d worn her leather sandals that morning in Panzaar. Her birthday moccasins would have been full of holes by now. It was wonderful to be walking in daylight. Tien had not seen much of the Pascan sector, not for years, and she’d never been across the Plains of Drune.

There was a slight breeze, and the sight of the flat expanse that stretched between Pasco’s Stra Mountain and the Teeter Range was a pleasing sight. Now that the initial excitement had passed and his story had been told, it appeared that Flip wasn’t one for much conversation. He was overjoyed to be outside and carefree, often pausing to study a particular plant or passing insect, and carefully documenting his findings in his notebook. Then he had to gallop after the others to catch up. Saka was in high spirits. He provided steady entertainment with lively songs and stories, and Tien plucked up the nerve to sing an Aryk cider-making ballad in the quavery voice of an old man. It was far less daunting to mimic someone else, than have her own voice heard, and the applause she received, along with Fen’s approving smile warmed her heart.

What a makeshift family we’re becoming to each other, she thought happily. She felt a sudden twinge of guilt for her happiness. But that is ridiculous, she told herself sternly. I survived the Thelpy tablets for a reason, and I’m doing all I can to rescue my family, my real family, and so are the others. It will be a long hard journey I think, and I can’t feel bad every time I enjoy myself on the way. The afternoon passed pleasantly as they strode through the sweeping space of grasslands, uninterrupted by trees, with the ranges looming abruptly in the distance.

Tien‘s thoughts kept returning to Prusience, the girl from her dream. It had been so real, and even now she could remember every detail. She was already dreading going to sleep tonight, for fear of what she might see and have imprinted into her brain. The scrolls were certainly powerful, but she felt no urge to open them. Rather she wished that she could palm the duty of being their protector onto someone else. Their strength or magic frightened her. If this was magic, she wanted no part of it. The others had seen the Wendigo and the goblins, and Saka at least was still scornful about the existence of magic. Fen hadn’t said much about it either way. But if she or Saka had seen Tien’s dream, they would have no doubt that magic was very real.

Tien desperately wanted to know what had happened to Prusience. In the dream she had spoken of Saka, so she obviously knew him. Tien wished she could just ask Saka outright who Prusience was, but she wasn’t brave enough to, and anyhow she couldn’t. There could be no discussing of the dreams. Lumin had been adamant about that. Tien had an uneasy feeling that this might cause trouble later on, though she couldn’t explain why, even to herself. I’ll ask Saka about his family and friends in conversation, she decided. It’ll look natural that way. But why do I need to know, she wondered? Out of curiosity? I suppose it’s because I want to test whether what Lumin said about the scrolls is true. And I want to know if Prusience is all right. She thought carefully about how she could phrase her questions as she looked out at the flat terrain that surrounded them. The short yellow grass of the savannahs had given way to green pastures, scattered with trees that cast long shadows in the late afternoon sun. Tien was walking alongside Saka, and the next time Fen said something to Flip, she saw her chance. “Saka, does your family live in Tira?” she asked, her tongue feeling large and dry in her mouth. She swallowed hard.

Saka glanced at her. “Most of them do.”

Come on, Saka, don’t go quiet on me, she thought with a silent groan. We usually can’t get you to shut up. Her mind had suddenly gone blank, all the casual questions she’d planned were forgotten. She made herself continue. “Any brothers or sisters?”

“Yup, I have one of each. I’m the middle child. You have two brothers, right? And you’re in the middle too?” She nodded with a smile. This was going well.

“Very good,” she said. “But do you remember my brothers’ names?” Saka made a face, as he thought for a moment. “I like a mental challenge, Tien. Hang on, it’ll come to me. Now it was Graic, the wonderful older brother who taught you all about taro. Am I right?” Tien nodded again. “And your younger brother. Hmmm. Is it… let’s see, is it Tain?” “No, but close enough. His name is Haim.”

“Ah, of course. Haim. "

“What about your brother and sister?” she asked. Do they have good Tiran names like you?”

“Oh boy, my own family’s names,” he laughed. “It’s been a while. Let me think. No, in all seriousness, they are Teek and Pru, Teek being my brother.”

Prusience is his sister, Tien thought, her blood racing. Oh my!

“Do they know where you are?” she asked, glancing at him. “And what you do?”

Saka’s smile vanished. “No, I don’t think they do,” he said, his eyes darkening. “But I’m not exactly sure where they are either. Like I said, it’s been a while.”

Tien did not know what to say next. Don’t push it any further, she told herself. It is time to stop. “Oh,” she said aloud, feeling that it was a inadequate response after making him sad. He gave her a half smile, and they walked steadily in silence, gazing around the whispering grass that stretched on for miles, each lost in their own thoughts. The sun set in a final burst of flaming colour behind them, and a herd of Persian cats came out of their hiding spots to hunt.

“AAAAgggghhh!!!” Saka’s yelp of pure suffering scattered the startled beasts, and they scampered for cover as he stumbled and fell heavily. He was trying to grasp his ankle and rub his entire leg at the same time.

“Pain all up my leg,” he shrieked. “Awful pain!” Fen dropped her pack, and knelt next to Saka, her fingers fumbling with the vial that hung from a leather string at her throat. It popped open and she pressed it to his lips. He was thrashing wildly, and some spilt, but he managed to keep his head still long enough to swallow the rest.

© 2006 by Shelly Taylor

25. Flight on the Mars

The long, flat sheds at the mars ranch and the wooden farmhouse lay sprawled across the grassy plains. The mars grazed peacefully, with their wings folded up over their backs. They were longer limbed and carried more muscles than their close relations, sheep, and their wool was short with a loose curl.

Just beyond the meadows, Teeter range loomed up majestically, its peaks forming a narrow jagged line like a set of broken teeth. After sharing a hearty dinner with the travellers, the mar herders bid them an early goodnight. The next day they would be rising before the sun for a practise flight. The four companions were exhausted and even the constant bleating of the mars did not disturb their sleep.

It happened so fast, Tien felt that she had just closed her eyes to blink. When she opened them she was looking out at a large expanse of manicured hedge that rose over her head. As she stood on her tiptoes, she could see that the hedge went on and on, but there was a pattern to it. A maze, she thought. How exciting!

The flimsy dome of a parasol bobbed above the green expanse as its unseen owner moved through the maze. Intrigued, Tien found the entrance and started to walk through it herself. The route to the heart of the maze had not been created to challenge the mind and was relatively simple. Tien rounded the last corner and found herself in a leafy arbour.

The owner of the parasol was there, seated on a shaded bench. She wore a gown of palest green, cut from a delicate frothy material. Her deep red hair was loose and hung in a wavy mass over her shoulders, a crown of real daisies wreathing her brow. The girl was beautiful. Unforgettably, catch-your-breath beautiful. No particular feature in her face was perfect or remarkable, but her presence radiated life and energy. She was luminous. It was the only way Tien could have verbally described her. Luminous. She looked through Tien, her eyes eagerly fixed on the path as though she was waiting for someone.

She doesn’t see me, Tien realized. Why not?

Ragged breathing from the maze distracted Tien and she stepped back against the wall of the hedge to let the person in. Someone emerged from the maze, walking in a tired shuffle. He or she, it was hard to know which, had once been tall, but now stooped low, bent with age. The soiled remains of a tunic hugged its emaciated frame. Wrinkled skin hung loose off long limbs and its face was gaunt as though any life had been sucked out of it. Where a nose should be, a hairy snout dribbled mucus, and its black hole of a mouth was open, sharp teeth protruding as it panted.

As the thing passed her, Tien smelt the stench of death. She drew back in horror. The girl in the arbour jumped up joyfully. She ran to meet the shrivelled thing and threw her arms around it, kissing it soundly on both cheeks. Then she pulled it over to the bench, and entwining its forearm with hers, she had an animated conversation with it, undeterred by its answering croaks and slobbering snout.

***

Tien woke gasping, to a light tap at her door. She jumped up, immediately alert. What was that about? Another dream, but was it connected to her or to one of the others, she wondered as she opened the door to Fen.

“Good morning” Fen said with a cheery smile. “We leave right after a bowl of porridge.”

The stewed wheat porridge soaked in honey and fresh cream was fragrant and familiar. Tien blinked back tears, as she realized that if she closed her eyes and breathed in the wafting smell, she could be back at home eating this breakfast with her family.

She saw Flip looking at her with compassion, and they exchanged a knowing smile. In a way, they were both displaced and uncertain of ever finding their loved ones. She gave him a quick glance. Was he connected to the girl in her dream? Oh it’s too much to start thinking about now, she told herself. I’ll work it out later, not that it is any of my business. After breakfast and a brief practise session, they gathered their packs and stood watching as fresh mars were led out of the stables and saddled up. The mar’s back was wide and Tien was grateful for the knobs and grooves on the saddle that she could dig her knees into.

“Now remember, ‘Gizooooooow’ will tell your mar to take off. ‘Ingrrrut’ is for ‘veer left’. ‘Bazbuut’ is ‘veer right’. ‘Zooowzigg’ means ‘land here’.” The chief herd summarized. “Don’t forget to shout the commands into their third ear!”

***

After a cry of ’Gizooooooow’, Tien felt her stomach lurch as the mars took off. She peeped out of squinting eyes as the earth dropped away and became a patchwork of colour. The mars rose steadily, their large wings flapping strongly. After her heart stopped racing, Tien relaxed and began to enjoy her flight. Flip and Fen were ahead and Saka and the spare mar, brought optimistically for Andron, hovered near Tien.

The air was thin and cold. Despite their girth, the mars moved fast, and Teeter Range’s awesome height was soon in front of them. Its face seemed smooth, plunging into a completely vertical drop. Fen’s voice was thrown back to Tien and Saka in the wind, crying out the right turn command to her mar. As the first two mars veered right and began to circle the range, Tien remembered what she had to say.

“Bazbuut, ” she yelled loudly into its third ear, which twitched on the back of its neck. Through their shouted directions, they directed the mars around to the other side of the range. And then they saw it. The box. It was compact, large enough for a tall man to stand in without stretching, but not sit comfortably. It seemed to be built right into the cliff face, until a gust of wind sent it swinging from side to side. It was dangling from two ropes. Following the others, Tien had her mar descend.

They came to rest on the part of the peak directly above the box. The ground they landed on was actually quite flat and wide enough for the mars to sit. They unsaddled and patted the beasts, which were soon contentedly working their way through the vast packed snack, which had been brought to keep them happy on the mountain.

As they munched placidly, the others discussed the situation. “It would have been so easy to fly in next to the box,” lamented Flip. “But the raseen pre-empted that. Did you see all the Quill nettles they have planted into the wall of that mountain? It would have been far too dangerous.” He was still flushed and grinning from the flight.

“And did you see it dangling there?” said Saka. “It seemed to be attached to a pulley system from up here. Let’s try and find it.” They struggled around the ledge. The wind whipped them about, so it was a battle to take a single step in one direction, and if they turned, it seemed that they would be blown off.

“Here!” yelled Flip. “I found the pulleys!’ They made their way over to where he stood. The ropes appeared strong and new.

Fen tugged on one gently and shouted over the whistle of the wind, “It may be crazy, but we have to try it.” The others nodded in quick agreement. “We’ll need to wrap our hands up with our scarves so we don’t burn them on the ropes,” Fen added.

They quickly did this, their eyes streaming in the icy blasts of wind. Thus armed, Flip and Fen gripped one rope, and Tien and Saka pulled on the other. They started to hoist the ropes up slowly. It was not as hard as it could have been, Tien realized, though it made sense that the box was light. It made the hauling up and down easier for the captors. They could hear faint yelling below them, even before the top of the box rose into view. Flip beamed.

“It’s Andron all right, he’s alive!”

“Shhh, what he saying?” Saka cupped his hand to his ear, straining to hear Andron’s words before they were blown away.

“A trap?” Tien looked doubtfully at the others, ”Maybe not,” she shrugged.

Andron was still shouting out loudly.

“You’re right. He’s saying it’s a trap,” said Fen as the entire box emerged over the top of the peak. “What’s a trap?”

The back wall of the box was made of a large pane of glass. A short, athletically built man was waving his arms carefully about, as they pulled the box up onto the ledge, his short white beard and moustache bristling with agitation. ”Look out it’s a trap!” he yelled. They peered down, over the peak, to where he was gesturing.

Strands of vapour like ghostly inchworms, floated up quickly from where the box had been. These strands did not disappear in the biting wind, or evaporate against their swatting hands. The foul smell like rotting eggs was overpowering as the strands seemed to swim against the current, searching out their warm nostrils. Somehow, tendrils of the gas had even filtered through the walls of the box, and floated around Andron’s face. They brushed them away and looked back over the edge.

Below, a narrow bird’s head emerged from a hollow in the cliff, its long neck swaying like a snake, when it saw them. Hissing, it looked like it wanted to fly up and tear them apart with its cruel curved beak. They pulled back, preparing for it to swoop up and attack. Nothing happened. After a few moments, they cautiously peered over the edge again, and saw why. The vulture’s head was encumbered with an oversized chameleon-like body. It crept out onto the mountain wall in a slow disjointed gait. While one front leg and the opposite back leg, supported its distended stomach, the other two limbs stretched out falteringly, hovering in mid air, before coming to rest only slightly ahead of where they had previously been. That was just one step.

In horrified fascination, the group stared as four of these creatures inched out onto the cliff face, and began their painstaking ascent. Their black eyes glittered malevolently up at them, putrid fumes rising from the top of their heads. Tien coughed, her eyes watering from the fumes, as she turned to gage the others’ reaction to these horrible beasts. She gasped as she saw Fen, Saka, and Flip crumpled on the ground behind her.

© 2006 by Shelly Taylor

26. Tien Alone

In the box, Andron lay on his stomach, frozen in a crawling position. Trembling and crying, Tien peeped over the edge to see the progress of the reptiles. They were still at least three body lengths away. She crouched down next to Flip who lay closest to her, and checked his pulse. Slow, but steady.

He was in a deep sleep, and no amount of shaking would stir him. The others were in the same state. Fen lay on her back, with her knees curled uncomfortably underneath her. Her headscarf had slipped of, revealing a crop of bright red curls, that reached just below her jaw line. Tien barely registered this as her mind raced.

Why am I the only one awake?, she wondered, walking around the lifeless bodies of the others. Think, think, think.

A new horrible idea crossed her mind. These creatures moved so slowly, they could never catch the kind of food that those beaks were created for tearing apart. The gas must send their prey to sleep, rendering them helpless, easy meals. Oh, help!

She tripped and fell heavily, but she felt no pain as she ran back to look over the ledge. Judging by the birds’ slow progress so far, she calculated that she had maybe ten minutes before they reached her. She raced over to the mars, but pools of saliva had formed under their slack lips and lolling tongues, and their heavy lids drooped. No help there. She fumbled frantically through her pack, but found nothing any use. Just then, the oranges for the mars caught her eye and she reacted impulsively. Grabbing up as many as she could hold in her shirt, Tien ran awkwardly back to the edge, dropping them in a heap on the ground.

She took aim with the first one, and hurled it as hard as she could, straight down at the beast’s heads. She scored a hit with the little one at the back. Hissing and shaking its head, it clung grimly to the rock face. The next one missed them all together. Blindly, she pelted them with the remaining oranges; shouting in what she hoped was a ferocious manner. The second last orange dislodged the littlest creeper, and croaking bitterly, it was carried away on the wind. The other three didn’t even stop to look back.

They crawled towards her, focussing their fierce stares on her. Tears coursed down Tien’s cheeks, as she went back for more oranges. There were only two left, if she didn’t include the chewed up skins that the mars had spat out. She stumbled back with them past her sleeping friends. A hand grabbed her leg and she shrieked.

“Tien, help me sit up.” The whisper came from Fen, whose arm had fallen limply from Tien’s ankle. Sobbing aloud with a mixture of relief and terror, Tien pulled Fen into sitting position using a pack to support her back. She looked like a rag doll, her head drooping and her arms hanging heavily. In a thick voice, Fen said, “Tien, stop crying. Come on, you need to stop crying and listen!”

Nodding and squeezing her eyes to wring out her tears, Tien tried to focus on Fen’s words. With a shuddering gasp, she said, “OK, it’s OK. I’m stopping.”
She wiped her face on her sleeve. “Now,” Fen said almost in a whisper. “My body feels really heavy and thick from that gas, but my mind is fine. I need you to fetch my pack, and Flip’s. Can you do that for me?” Tien nodded. “Do it quickly.“ Fen’s slack voice still held an authoritative note, and Tien gave another shuddering gulp, before she obediently scrambled to get the bags. She carried them over, and then opened them both up wide so Fen could see what was inside.

”I need the bottle labelled “fool’s parsnip” from Flip’s pack.” Fen told her. “Good. Now we need his peach vinegar. Don’t use the wrong vinegar.” She smiled weakly. “Ok, mix them together in the vial, by putting your thumb over the mouth of the vial. Yes like that, and now give it a shake. “ ‘You are doing a good job Tien. It’s ready, so pour it down my throat.”

Tien let a small bit dribbled down Fen’s throat. Fen tried to swallow, but choked the mixture back up. Spluttering, she gasped.” It won’t work. My throat is too swollen. Ok, we’ll try something else. Look in my pack, and fetch the green gel that is there. Hurry Tien! You can do it. Hold it up higher! I can’t move my neck. Yes, that’s it.”

“Put a big dab of it into another vial,” Fen croaked. “Add a teaspoon, no, make that a tablespoon of the vinegar. Stir it. Just use your finger, Tien. Is it still greasy? Good. Ok, put some on your finger, a good amount, and smear it under my nose.”

“I’ll breathe it in.“ She muttered under her breath. Tien bent in close, and rubbed a generous portion of the greenish slime under Fen’s nose. As she smeared it in, her finger flipped over a piece of loose, scarred skin under Fen’s left nostril. She nudged it gently. It was rubbery and flesh coloured, but not skin at all, and the scarring that twisted one side of Fen’s face, stopped at the fleshy flap.

It is not a real scar, Tien thought. Who is Fen really?

Fen sniffed and shuddered, her body racked with convulsions. “Check where those creaturess are” she croaked.
“They are about a body length away.” Tien called after looking over the edge. She glanced back at Fen, who was on her knees and struggling to stand up. Fen held her hand out to Tien. “

Pull me up, please,” she said. When she stood, Tien steadied her and Fen looked around. “Now I’ll empty two of the packs and you fetch some of those small rocks in your scarf.” she pointing to some rocks near where the mars lay. Tien ran and gathered as many as she could carry. Together, they filled the bags and tightened the straps. Under Fen’s instruction, Tien undid Fen’s belt and tied a pack to each end. Then Tien straightened and tied Fen’s scarf about her face, so she would not inhale in any more fumes.

“If you can lug these to the edge, I’ll get myself there. Then if we stand as far apart as the belt will allow us to, we can drop the packs in sync, and hopefully the belt will dislodge the nasty things,” she explained. Buoyed with hope, Tien nodded, grinning.

At the precipice, they knelt as far apart as the belt would allow, each grasping a pack, ready to roll. The three remaining creatures were grunting excitedly, in anticipation, waggling their narrow heads from side to side. Fen looked at Tien. “OK, on the count of three, we let go together?”

Tien nodded, and they counted softly in unison. “One, two, three,” and then they released their ammunition. The packs tumbled over the edge, catching the beasts off guard, and tripping them up. Dislodged and caught up in the belt, they plummeted into the grey depths, squawking and snorting.

Fen and Tien watched till they were gone, and then grabbed each other in a tight hug. “But why didn’t the fumes put me out like the others?” Tien asked when they finally separated. “ And how is it that you were only paralysed?”

“Well, your Aryk makeup is so different from theirs.” Fen answered, glancing at their sleeping companions. “And, as for me…”, she paused for a moment. “I truthfully don’t understand that. I may have to look into my ancestry.” Fen smiled and her eyes were truthful. They sat for a while, catching their breath and smiling at each other. Tien felt that there was something vaguely familiar about Fen. She looked the same, now that her pallor had gone, and her hair was yet again hidden under the knotted scarf.

But now I know her scars aren’t real, or at least some of them aren’t. So I’ll never look at her in the same way. But it is more than that. I can picture her with hair now, and there is something familiar about it. What is it?

After such an experience, Tien found that her brain wouldn’t work. She closed her eyes. The girl in the maze appeared in her mind, as if she’d been waiting for her. She almost gasped as she opened her eyes and looked at Fen. She stared hard. Could it be? Both were slender.

But the girl in the dream is so feminine and pretty. Fen is so quiet and … not girlish at all. But somehow there is a connection, and somehow it does make sense, like another piece of the puzzle fitting together. I’ll have to think about it when I have time on my own.

Fen had caught her look. “I need to explain about my scar,” she said. “You saw, didn’t you? ” Tien blushed and nodded. “Oh boy,” Fen took a breath and said. “I went undercover like this to test the Tiran people’s reaction to me and before long I was placed in the quarter. There isn’t time now, but one day I will tell you the whole story. Just please promise that you will tell no one else. Only Andron knows.” “Of course I won’t,“ Tien assured her. “Thankyou.” Fen looked relieved. “Well, come on, we really shouldn’t stand around wasting time, let’s revive the others with the gel, and tell them what they missed.”

She turned to go back to where their companions lay, but Tien grabbed her arm impulsively. “Fen can I just ask you a question?” She stopped, wondering why she was doing this, but the time felt right, so she kept going. “It’ll probably sound like I’m being really nosy, but I’m only concerned…” Fen’s eyes were confused. “Well, you see,” Tien continued, speaking quickly, after a glance to make sure Saka was still unconscious. She didn’t want him to hear her outright lies.

“Saka told me about his sister being injured. You know, her eyes,” she said, trying to meet Fen’s startled gaze. “And I didn’t mean to probe, but I just wanted to know if she is all right. Is she?”

“Wow.” Fen said softly. “Prusience. He told you about that.” “Only briefly.” Tien hoped she didn’t look too guilty. “He didn’t go into any detail.” That bit was true.

“Prusience was given a blinding poison, by someone who wanted to hurt her family.” Fen saw Tien’s mystified expression. “You know how the raseen put the defects in the quarter?” Tien nodded.

“Well, some Tirans learned how to manipulate that unspoken law. They found that they could coerce people to do things, under threat of having a loved one being ‘defected”, or made physically imperfect. It is a vile practise.” Her face twisted in revulsion. “Some people used ‘defecting’ as a form of revenge, though no one has ever been convicted of it. See, officially the Quarter does not even exist. And for some unknown reason, Prusience was ‘defected’, and soon after she disappeared. “

‘That’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard!’ Tien cried, her eyes filling with tears. “So was she taken to the Quarter?”

“Well, Saka and his father went there and paid some of the Quarter’s occupants to help them search for her. She had been seen there briefly, but soon after she arrived, she vanished without a trace. That was over a year ago, now.” There was a groan, and the two girls spun around, to see Flip moving slightly. “We can’t talk about this now,” Fen whispered. “We’d better revive the men.”

*** The glass door had to be smashed in order to get Andron out, as a special handle to open it was missing; probably in the hands of his captors. Beaming, Flip helped pull the shaky but ecstatic Andron out, and they hugged each other in joy, laughing and slapping one another on the back. Saka collected the spare provisions from the box, while Fen gave Andron a quick check to make sure he could travel.

“You can fly to the base, Andron and we will look after you there. But we have to leave now.” she urged. “ We are exposed and vulnerable up here, and our next attack may not come from slow pokes.”

“True.” agreed Saka. “We need to hide you Andron, before the raseen come looking. They mounted the rested mars and were soon soaring over the valley far below.

***

“Where are we?” Tien asked as they alighted near a grove of willow trees. She had become thoroughly disoriented on the trip, which had only seemed a couple of hours. The land around them was slightly hilly, and covered in lush green grass that tempted the ravenous mars. “We are at Silken Moss Falls, near our headquarters,” said Saka. He smiled as several men emerged from the trees, waving in welcome. After a brief greeting, the men led the mars away.

“Come on, we’ll leave our bags here for the time being.“ Saka was walking towards the willows, motioning for the others to follow.

Tien heard the rushing of water ahead and they walked a short distance through the trees, coming out onto the ridge of a hill. Tien looked down. A series of waterfalls cascaded over half of the steep embankment and flowed into a bubbling stream below. At the foot of the falls, ferns grew among mossy rocks, and butterflies hovered over the splashing water. Tien followed the others, scrambling down the dry side of the hill, and they were soon standing level with the stream. Back at the top of the falls, a young man had lugged all their packs to the crest of the hill. He dropped the bags down onto the ground, and to Tien’s surprise, they somehow vanished.

“Tien,” Saka shouted above the roar of the water. “Are you ready to get wet?”

“Wet?” she yelled back. “No thanks. I won’t go swimming, I’m not dressed for it.”

Saka grinned and pointed out an especially large waterfall. The others were already making their way towards it, wading through the stream. Tien gaped as Fen led Andron and Flip straight through the fall’s copious blasts of water. Then the three of them disappeared.

© 2006 by Shelly Taylor

27. A Message

In the airless heat of late morning, no one moved outside, confined instead within the semi underground structure of the adobe brick castle. The servants had completed the gardening and any exterior maintenance before the sun rose to burn its merciless imprint on the land for another day. Malak was only three weeks into the six month Haatanisi, the ‘ scorching season’, but already the days were endless and mind-numbing; something to be endured rather than lived. The herbs and flowers in the emperor’s private garden bowed their stalks in submission as most of the copious amounts of water in their beds vanished into the dusty haze as vapour. Palms and trailing willows shimmered against the garden walls like a mirage. Thorasco flexed his arms and did a few stretches. A light sheen covered his naked chest and neck. With a clean dive, he cut through the still mirror of his man-made lake, sending ripples across its breadth. He swam laps strongly for half an hour without stopping. Then he climbed out, picking up the bag he’d brought with him, and walked, dripping wet, over to the wall, where a stone slab formed a seat. A shelf of black rock jutted out overhead, and a thin stream of water trickled over it. Thorasco’s pants and skin were dry and hot by the time he reached the seat, though he felt a cooling mist as he passed under the cascade. He reclined in the shaded recess and shook out his tangle of damp curls. A bird fluttered into the garden, which would have created a stir if anyone had seen it. Any living beast that could, left Malak well before Haatanisi engulfed it. The bird’s flaming wings beat weakly and its movements were disoriented. The emperor was suddenly alert. He waved a hand to catch the bird’s attention, before beckoning it to come to him. The bird summoned its last ounce of strength, and flew clumsily towards the emperor, its body so low, that at one point it almost hit the ground. “Uh uh uh!“ the emperor called out, wagging a finger. The bird rose at the very last moment, and then flew through the waterfall, collapsing on the floor next to him. As its body touched the ground, the tiny claws softened and sprouted, growing rapidly. The wings stretched out fully, and extended, their shape melting and changing. The bird’s neck and torso lengthened, as gracefully as a snake sliding out of its old skin. When the transformation was complete, a black eyed elfin girl, her skin the shade of a cinnamon stick, lay crouched at Thorasco’s feet, panting with exhaustion. The emperor made no move to help her up. He looked at her, impatience thinning his lips, before stepping over her and reaching out to catch some water in his cupped palms. The girl gasped as he flicked it over her prone form, speckling her crimson dress with burgundy spots. She struggled to sit up. “Your news?” “Keaaahh.” The girl stopped and swallowed painfully. She rolled her tongue around the inside of her mouth, before trying again. “A message from your brother, excellency.” Her voice was a rasped whisper. She halted, her face pale. “A small concern.” “And that concern is?” “Andron, the herbalist has been found by the Watch and freed, Excellency.” Her voice was rhythmic, and devoid of any expression. “The Watch are aware that your Excellency is searching for the tapestries, though they do not know why that is. Your brother’s identity remains a secret.” The girl kept her eyes downcast as she delivered the message, her shoulders hunched as if to protect herself. The emperor smiled, and his impossibly handsome face looked angelic, as he bent over her, till his lips reached the girl’s ear. She flinched but his hand held her jaw gently but firmly in place. He whispered in her ear, and his murmured words made her eyes roll up in the back of her head in terror before she fainted. Thorasco splashed more water down on her and she shuddered and sat up. Thorasco pulled a narrow purple fruit from his bag. He dropped it on the ground next to where the bird girl lay. “Be sure to pass my message on to your master.” He turned then and left, shading his face from the dazzling orb above, with his hand. When she was alone, the bird girl fell upon the fruit and devoured it greedily, the juice dripping from the corners of her mouth. Then she lay on the stone slab and waited for its flesh to digest in her stomach, so she could be airborne again.

© 2006 by Shelly Taylor

28 Headquarters

Before Tien had time to change her mind, Saka was saying, ”Take a breath!” and he pulled her into the waterfall after him. Tien gasped as sheets of icy water splashed over her, but almost immediately she was pulled beyond the falls, onto dry ground.

There was a dark opening at the back of the waterfall, and they huddled there, dripping wet and shivering, watching the torrents of water thunder down.

“Welcome!” Tien turned to see Baran holding out some large towels. He embraced Andron with a huge smile. “Please to wrap yourself in this towels, my friends. Dry clothes we’ll find you now.” They dried themselves vigorously, exchanging excited greetings with Baran. Then he took their sodden towels, and hung them over some strategically placed branches that had somehow been secured to the side of the opening.

“It looks like you tired be,” he said sympathetically. “Sleeping time is soon for you. But first, come with me, so to eat and tell us your stories. We want to hear of your days.” Tien took his outstretched hand, and allowed herself to be led further in behind the waterfall. This must be a cave, she thought, ducking her head as she stepped in. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, so she stepped carefully after Baran. The cave’s dim light brightened, and Tien saw that there was a lamp near the back. They turned down a narrow hallway lit with lamps and they followed this along till it opened up into a large area that seemed to have a natural light. Looking around, Tien saw that, in two of the cave walls, large panes of glass had been inserted. As water streamed in a silent shower outside these windows, pale sunlight flooded in.

The cave seemed to be connected to several smaller caverns, and it was a hive of activity, with about a dozen men and women bustling around. Work halted when they caught sight of their old friends. They pounced on Fen and Saka with delight, and crowded around Andron, shedding tears of joy. Tien stood a little apart, with a false smile fixed to her face. I don’t belong here, she thought. These are Saka and Fen’s real friends and their real life. Flip came to stand beside her, and she flashed him a grateful smile as he gave her hand a quick squeeze.

***

They all sat around on the roughly hewn benches, relaxed and thoughtful after refreshments; waiting for Andron’s story. He reclined on a single chair, his eyes closed and his head resting against the chair’s cushioned back. After a time, he sighed and opened his eyes, looking around at each of them with a tired smile.

“Thank you all, my dear ones. I am indebted to you for the risks you took to find me.” He paused to sip at his tea. ”I am eager to hear what has transpired in my absence.”

There was a brief silence before Saka said, “Well, I told you most of our news on the way here, but I’ll quickly summarize for the others. The Parthans have been kidnapped and dosed up with Thelpy tablets, which work like a truth serum. They Parthans are now being questioned about the whereabouts of their ancient tapestries.” Andron nodded. “Though,” Saka added, “according to Lumin, it is unlikely that the Parthans actually know where the tapestries are hidden.”

“The twist is that Wiggo, Phan’s new medical advisor, is secretly working for Thorasco, the emperor of a distant land. Wiggo is manipulating Phan’s hatred of the Parthans to benefit Thorasco. We are not certain, but I suspect that somewhere in the grand scheme, Thorasco’s desire is to render the whole of Pendelethe helpless, and that is when he will strike.”

Andron listened and nodded, seemingly unsurprised. He rubbed his chin. “Yes, I feared this was the case, but my suspicions had not been confirmed, in regards to Thorasco’s involvement. It explains why Wiggo had to make me disappear. He needed to gain close access to Phan.”

“But why does Phan hate the Aryks?” Tien cried out. “Is there a reason?” She flushed as every pair of eyes looked at her, but kept her gaze resolutely on Andron. She needed to know. At first Tien didn’t think Andron had heard her question. He sat so still, with one finger tapping his lips.

But then he looked over at her and said, “Your people came and settled in Pendelethe from Oquis. You know that?” He looked around, and seeing their affirming nods, he continued.

“Years earlier, when one of Phan’s ancestors, King Sharva, sailed the Plysmin Sea, he fell in love with and married an Oquit girl, named Aryk. She became his second wife, as he was a widower. Because his land was large and wealthy, he brought Aryk’s people across in shiploads, rescuing them from certain defeat at the hands of a rival nation.”
No one interrupted Andron.

“The Oquits lived in harmony with the land, and their farms in Pendelethe soon prospered. But Sharma’s teenaged daughter hated her stepmother bitterly; especially when Aryk gave birth to a son. That was something her dead mother had not been able to do, and as crown princess, she felt her right to the throne was threatened, and that her stepbrother was their father’s favourite. This bitterness was passed on through the generations, and eventually its poison infected Phan. He had his own bumbling plans to thwart the thriving Parthans, but it appears that Thorasco, got wind of this weakness in our king’s armour. And as Saka has just said, he has planted Wiggo in Phan’s court to make sure the job is done properly. This will set the scene for Thorasco’s eventual takeover.”

Tien listened in stunned silence, trying to let it all sink in and make sense. She had been taught that her ancestors the Oquits had been invited to come to Pendelethe to help farm the land there. How was it she had not been told the truth? Did any Aryks know?

Saka was saying, “Andron, you have the antidote to the Thelpy?”

“But I don’t” said Andron heavily. The others slumped in dismay, staring at him. Tien tasted bile deep in her throat. Renda had said that the drug was eventually fatal, if an antidote was not administered.
“Look I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up,” Andron said, glancing at Tien. “But I had a lot of time to think in the box. The name of the drug Renda told us about, kept running through my mind. In Pendelethe, herbalists use a simple system for naming their potions, whereby they can remember the key ingredients they used. I won’t bore you with that now. But I wondered if Wiggo may have used a similar system. Therefore the name of the potion becomes significant.” His voice was excited, and Tien realized that her heart was beating fast. Was this going to be good news after all?

“Now in Renda’s message, he spelt the name of the tablets like this.” Andron scribbled ‘Uss steabo, spraegyen. Batch no. 22221’ on a sheet of parchment, and leaned back so the others could see.

“It looks confusing, I know,” he chuckled as he saw the blank expressions on his friends faces. I’ll hurry along to the good bit. Now, in the system I use, the potion is always given a name that is two words in length, both of which contain exactly the same number of letters. So I joined the first two words together, to make two words the same length, like so.”
He wrote Usssteabo Spraegyen underneath his other writing.

“I believe Wiggo had used my system, with only some slight changes. I think that the first word, ‘usssteabo’, contains the first letter of each vital ingredient, and that the second word, ‘spraegyen’, contains the last letter of those same ingredients. Furthermore I think that the five digits at the end… here,” he pointed at the batch number. “These mean that there are five ingredients. The first four ingredients are two words each. The fifth ingredient is only one word. I’ll draw it so you can see what I mean.”

“OK,” he drew as he spoke. “The words ‘usssteabo spraegyen’ can be written out like this:

U___s S___p
S___r S___a
T___e E___g
A___y B___e
O___n

He touched the top letter. “The ‘U’ from the first word is the first letter of a two-word ingrediant. The last letter in the first word of that ingrediant is ‘s’, the first letter in the last word:”
He glanced around at them. Tien tried to look understanding, but it was too much to take in, and she stifled a yawn. After a hot meal, she felt sleepy. She sipped at her water.
“I will get to my point quickly.” Andron smiled. “Now all I had to do was fill in the blanks. I could only come up with one ingredient in each case that fit the system, and also made sense in the light of how the potion is used.”

“What are the ingredients?” Flip asked, his face eager.

“This will fascinate you, Flip. They are: Upas sap, Salamander saliva, Tree eggs, Agony bubbles, and Ondin.”

Tien had never heard of any of these, but Flip beamed. “I’ve never heard of agony bubbles, but the others are rare and difficult to find. Are we sure they are all accessible in Pendelethe?

“We will need to investigate that.” Andron mused. “but I am sure that once we fetch my vial of the Tears of Immo and add it to these others, we will have the makings of an antidote.”

“Can you tell us about the tears, Andron?” asked Fen, who had been listening quietly. “We read about them in one of Lumin’s books.

“Prince Immo of the Empire of Zilem,” said Andron, as a gentle smile dimpled his face.

“Huh?”

Andron’s eyes focussed. ”Fables of the empire of Zilem have been told for many hundreds of years.” He told them the story of Prince Immo’s trip to Oquis and they listened without interruption.

“So where is this empire?” Saka asked in the stillness that followed Andron’s tale.

“Closer than you might think. To get there you must first go through the Locked Lands, whose borders are not far from here.”

“Has anyone from Pendelethe been to the Locked Lands?” Fen asked.

“Never, as far as I know. The Locked Lands started out in the same way the quarter did,” he explained. “A place for what Pendelethe called the lesser tribes, meaning those people groups and beings in Malak that the main three tribes did not want.”

“So it was the three tribes of Pendelethe who locked the land off?” Saka asked.

“Exactly!” Andron nodded. “Though you won’t read that in any history book. It is a forgotten page of our past. And one we need to re-examine.”

“Yes and we need to locate the tapestries.”

Tien barely heard what Fen said. All the talk about Immo had reminded her of their time with Lumin. His parting words echoed in her head: ’Read the horse herder’s words carefully. Then make a plan.” What did that mean. Which of the horse herder’s words? He’d written a whole book. Then in a burst of clarity, Tien knew. She babbled slightly, trying to get the thought out before it evaporated: “Remember what the horse herder wrote about the blessings?” she said.

The others looked at her, and then Fen said, ”You mean about what they were?”

Tien nodded. “Yes. What were they, again?” Her voice trembled.

“Fruitful labour was one,” said Fen.

“Yes. Trust you to take the one I remember, Fen,” Saka teased. “Tien, the book is in my pack. Let’s look them up.”
He hurried off. When he returned he opened the horse herder’s book to the page and read: Each tapestry provided a different blessing. One was fruitful labour, one was creativity, one was knowledge, and one was harmony: and we could all feel the magic working.
He looked up comprehension dawning.

“You see a pattern, too?” Tien asked excitedly. He nodded.

Tien turned to the others. It was so obvious; they had been crazy not to see. “I don’t think the tapestries are just in Partha,” she began. “Maybe only one is: the tapestry of fruitful labour.”

Fen was looking wide-eyed. “The tapestry of creativity is in Tira, then.”
“Which leaves the tapestry of knowledge somewhere in Pasco.” Laughed Saka. Then he frowned. “What about the last one, the tapestry of harmony?”

“Maybe you’ll find that out, as you journey to get the first three.” Andron suggested.
“There is a lot of planning and hard work ahead,” Flip sighed.
“Yes, lad, there is, but we will make a plan. If we work together, we may get this done before Thorasco learns of our intentions and the tapestries.” Andron smiled. “But for today, we rest and get our energy back. “

Tien took a long drink of her water. Rest. That sounded good. The voices of the others faded as she succumbed to her heavy eyelids and saw her family’s dear faces in her mind. I’m Ok, she told them silently. And I have got some friends who are going to help me rescue you. Hold on and don’t give up.
Then with the peacefulness of one who has hope, she drifted off to a dreamless asleep.


The End

© 2006 by Shelly Taylor