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