by Drew Wagar
She didn’t have long to think. Choso and one brother emerged to her right, with the other brother coming out on her left, blocking the lane. She’d have no chance in a close-quarters fist-fight.
Tia … oh Tia …
Redness swamped her vision again. The horrible sound of the sword echoed through her mind; the blood was still slick on her fingers, she could smell it in her nostrils. Tia’s body impaled, sliding to the ground …
Kiri shook her head.
Concentrate! They’re going to kill you next!
Choso began patting the blade of the sword against his other palm and stalked towards her slowly.
‘Enough of your furling, slum,’ he said, his voice menacing. ‘Gonna beat you like the carn you are.’
‘Better a carn than a dung herg like you, murdering snut!’ she replied bitterly, looked up and jumped.
The wall was higher than an average adult, but she caught the top of it with one hand, swinging precariously for a moment before securing her opposite elbow and levering herself up, her dirty bare calloused feet clawing for grip against the sandy rocks of the wall. The rough rock cut at her hands and feet but it was nothing she wasn’t used to. Choso and his brothers rushed forward to grab her, but she slipped out of reach, standing up on the wall and tip-toeing along it, taunting them with curses, still holding her branch.
From the wall the tiled roof of the house led up and away from the road. The brothers began to throw pebbles and stones at her, so she scrambled up the roof, delicately treading along the stone guttering to get out of their range. It was a large house, with a series of verandas that overlooked the forest behind her. She was able to jump up to the next one and continued climbing until she reached the highest level. Behind the house was series of similar buildings. It wouldn’t be hard for her to find a place to hide.
She heard a curse and looked back to see Choso climbing the wall behind her. She watched as he slipped a couple of times before he managed to get to the top, accompanied by the cheers of encouragement from his brothers. He began to head towards her. Kiri deftly made her way around the edge of the veranda she was on and came to a point above the street on the other side.
For a moment she gasped. Before her the city rose, houses first, increasingly more ornate as they approached the centre, marked by rising plumes of smoke from chimneys. Beyond that the grander buildings of the city courts could be seen, spires and towers reaching for the sky, some clad in precious metals, sparkling in the warm light of Lacaille.
Her eyes were drawn to the centre immediately. Beyond the houses and the spires was a vast pyramid, smooth sided and austere compared with the more baroque architecture around it, built of smooth red-stone. It dominated the view, contrasting sharply with the lighter stone of the other buildings. Kiri had heard that the interior was paved in metal, but found it hard to believe such a wonder could really be true. Metal was just too precious. There was the abode of the priestesses, no men were allowed inside, so it was said.
She could just make out a few dachs, flying reptiles bearing mounted riders from the temple, circling in the air, carrying messages and news from lands afar. Kiri watched for a moment as one slowed above the temple, its wings back-flapping to slow its approach. What must it be like to fly such a creature? Only the priestesses and their chosen acolytes knew.
Around the temple was a large piazza, cleared and empty now. Kiri had skulked around it during the celebration days, seeing the priestesses parade in their fancy gowns and pageantry. It was there that the arena was set up and women from all around Drayden would be summoned, some to gain a place alongside the priestesses. Most failed of course, you could never tell who was going to be chosen. Sometimes the most unlikely entrants made it through. Some of the challenges were strange and unusual so it was told.
Another celebration was due before too long, perhaps another pass or so. Kiri sighed.
One day … I’ll get my chance.
A sound from behind her alerted her that Choso had gained the roof. She looked forward and down, ignoring the dazzling view.
It was only then she realised she’d miscalculated. The road had dropped away on the far side of the house, leaving her with a drop that sent her reeling backwards when she peered over the edge. There was no way down. The next house was smaller than it had appeared and on the opposite side of the road. It was too far to jump, even for her.
Choso appeared around the edge of the roof. Trapped, she watched as he made his own way along the guttering, clearly conscious of the long fall below. He had to bend down to steady himself with one hand as he crept towards her. His body was in almost complete silhouette, framed against the huge ruddy orb of Lacaille hanging in the sky behind him.
Kiri looked about desperately for another way to escape, but the only route was back the way she had come, a route now guarded by the furious bulk of Choso, still moving towards her. She turned and raised the branch in her hand, her eyes widened. She was suddenly conscious of her heart beating fast in her chest accompanied by a buzzing in her ears.
She heard the scuttering sound of feet in the dust far below and realised the other two brothers had found their way around the wall and were looking up at the altercation from below. Moments later taunts and abuse were hurled in her direction along with encouragement for Choso.
Choso took a couple of practice swings with his sword, all the time adjusting his balance on the sloping roof. Kiri braced herself.
‘Gonna end you now, slum,’ Choso said, licking his lips, a grin twisting his features. Below the brothers continue to yell encouragement to him.
Kiri spat at him and stabbed out with her branch. Choso parried the blow and turned it back on her, twisting his sword down, around and up in what was now obviously a practiced move. The branch was wrenched from her hand a second time. It clattered across the tiles and dropped over the edge, landing with a faint thud on the ground below. Kiri stepped back, almost losing her footing as she reached the edge of the guttering, her heel exposed above the drop. A tile cracked and pieces of debris dropped into the street behind her.
Kiri tensed, waiting to see what Choso was going to try next, concentrating on his shoulders, you could always see the strike coming if you paid attention. She saw a flicker of movement and leapt up the sloping roof. Choso had tried to chop at her legs, but she evaded the blow, the sword slamming into the tiled roof below her. Kiri landed further up and scrambled for a moment, one hand on the apex of the roof. Choso growled in fury and moved below her, ready to stab upwards. Now she was worse off, helpless as he approached. He was going to gut her right there.
Kiri tried to prise her way upwards, aiming to gain the other side and escape Choso that way. Her feet struggled for grip on the smooth tiles. She couldn’t get any purchase, they were slick with green. Choso laughed and readied a blow. She felt sweat drip down her face and her stomach clench. Kiri focused her attention on her precarious grip, staring at the curved tile grasped in her hand as if it were the only thing that existed in her world. Her fingers were slipping.
No! Hold on … don’t …
She looked back at Choso, rage and impotence boiling through her like a flood. For a moment their eyes met. A strange feeling rippled through her, a crisp metallic tang she could almost taste.
Choso yelled and clutched at his head as if in sudden pain. He staggered, toppling over, smashing into the tiles which cracked and started sliding down the roof. Kiri felt the side of her body slam into the tiles as her feet completely lost grip. A moment later there was a sickening sliding sensation as the tiles underneath her gave way, cascading rapidly down the roof. She scrabbled desperately for grip, hurtling down and yelling out in fear. She cannoned into Choso and knocked them both over the edge amidst a cloud of dust, broken tiles, dirt and fluffs of greening. She heard a yell as she flung out her hands, feeling her palms rip and tear as she tried to slow her descent. There was a heavy thump from somewhere below her. She held on, coming to an abrupt halt.
; Kiri blinked, trying to clear her eyes. For a moment she could see nothing but swirling dust which burned her eyes. The urge to rub them was intense, but she knew she didn’t dare move. There was no sound but an unpleasant creaking from above her and the faint showering of dust and debris. For a moment she held still, her eyes stinging, feeling dust and dirt cascade around her.
A brief glance confirmed she was hanging by the guttering at least fifty hands above the ground below. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her eyes. They watered, blurring her vision. She shook her head, feeling the fluid dripping down her cheeks. She looked up to see blood dripping down her outstretched arms from lacerations in her palms. The pain was intense, making her wince, but she clung on desperately. She looked down trying to find something to brace her feet against, unfortunately the guttering overhung the wall of the house by some margin and her feet couldn’t reach anything.
The guttering creaked again and shifted a finger’s length, jolting her downwards and showering her with dust again. She looked up through watering eyes and saw the guttering breaking free from its supports. She struggled in vain for a moment and then felt herself falling, yelling out as she did so.
She braced against the certain death she knew was coming, screaming out her defiance. The breath was knocked out of her on impact, but it was not the hard abrupt end she had expected. She hit something soft, heard a grunt and then found herself on the ground dazed and winded, but most definitely alive.
‘Caught the slum!’ somebody said above her. A blurred crowd of people were around her, pushing and shoving. She was wrestled roughly to her feet and pushed forward before she could see who they were. Folks must have been drawn to the ruckus. Ahead they were clustered around something on the ground. Before she could see what it was she was pushed forward with enough force to throw her to the ground again. Her outstretched hands felt as if they were on fire.
Half dazed from the pain, she raised her head to see blank eyes, already cloudy, staring sightlessly at her. It was Choso, lying on his back in the dirt. His mouth was open, a look of profound astonishment frozen on his face. A pool of murky dark red blood was oozing out from somewhere behind his head. Kiri had only a moment to grasp what had happened.
‘Snuttin’ dirty slum!’
She was unprepared for the kick that came out of nowhere into her stomach. She rolled on to her side, curling up in agony. Another kick caught her from behind in the kidneys, throwing her over in the opposite direction. She felt rather than heard a rib crack in her chest as further blows rained down upon her. One caught her in the head. She saw a brief burst of flickering lights before blackness claimed her vision.
‘Not here!’ someone yelled. ‘Take her out on the lane and throw her in the woods …’
Kiri dimly felt her ankles being grabbed and then she felt herself being carelessly hauled across the rough ground, the sharp edges of stones cutting into her back and arms. It seemed to last a lifetime, but she couldn’t even cry out, the pain in her chest too extreme for her to anything more than gasp for breath. The world spun away from her.
A jolt in her arms and a heavy thud brought her to consciousness. She drew a shuddering breath, but the pain was intense, her muscles spasming and causing her to shake uncontrollably. She tried to move but couldn’t get her body to respond. The taste of blood was on her lips. One eye was already swollen shut, but she managed to open the other one.
For a moment she could make no sense of what she was seeing. All she could make out were … shoes. It took her a moment to realise she was still surrounded by a crowd of people. With faint amusement she recognised the wall behind them. She had climbed it just a few minutes before. Dimly she saw a hand reach down, her vision blackening around the edges. She recognised the colour of the tunic on the arm, one of Choso’s brothers. The hand grasped a smooth round rock from the edge of the lane and lifted it slowly out of her line of sight. She whimpered feebly.
I’ll see you in the after soon, Tia …
Nothing happened for a long moment. Then she heard another cracking sound. Pain registered in her leg, but it was nothing compared to the agony already burning through her. She heard the sound of more stones being picked up, a rough scraping noise from all around her. Mutterings of assent and approval followed, quickly growing into a roar, like carns baying for blood.
Kiri’s consciousness faded away as the next stone struck her supine body. There was a vague feeling of frustration, but it was swamped by anger and a sudden wrathful anger that surged through her. Her last thought burnt through her mind.
I don’t want to die!
She felt the strange tang once again, metallic, almost like the blood she could taste in her mouth, but oh so powerful! It was intoxicating, crackling through her whole self. She heard yells and then exclamations of surprise, pain and fear. Next came the sound of stones being dropped and feet hurriedly scuffling away.
There was a rush of air, a thump of something heavy landing nearby. Kiri heard a deep snort and a throbbing intake of breath.
‘Hold!’
The cry was imperious, firm and stern. More words followed, but Kiri could not understand them. Their impact was immediate. The crowd became silent and rapidly dispersed. She saw feet running, raising a cloud of dust. She tried to turn her head to see, but found she couldn’t move.
Deliberate footsteps sounded, moving swiftly towards her prone form. She felt a hand push back the bloodied hair from her face and then fingers placed against her neck. For the third time she felt the peculiar tang tingle through her, less intense this time, almost comforting.
Are you still alive, can you hear me …?
Kiri felt as if a strange musical voice had said the words inside her head, it was accompanied by a sense of astonishment, anger, abject concern … and a burning hope.
‘It’s her,’ the voice said, quietly. ’Did you see what she did …?’
‘A slum girl?’ the second voice interrupted doubtfully, carrying an air of distaste. ‘Only those of high blood can …’
‘We can’t afford to lose any of them, you know that. Our numbers grow fewer every pass. She must be one …’
‘Is she alive?’
‘Barely. Be quick. Help me get her to the infirmary, before it’s too late.’
Kiri felt herself gently hoisted into the air. Her body cradled in strong arms. Her broken ribs grated painfully and she yelped in pain.
‘Uhh. She’s filthy and rank! Disgusting!’
‘Stop complaining and hurry.’
Kiri’s vision was a blur, but she caught sight of a startling cyan and magenta gown, shining in the sunlight.
Just like the flit …
Her working eye focussed briefly. Her gaze travelled upwards to see a beautiful but ghostly pale face, a simple tiara perched on a high forehead with immaculate dark hair brushed to the left side with a distinctive silver streak. She saw the sparkle of a thin triangular pendant …
A priestess …!
She could just make out the dark form of an enormous dach behind the woman before she was turned around and hoisted up. Her stomach lurched and everything went blurred. There was a jolt and a rush of air, the ground fell away beneath her. The ground, the city wall, the streets, houses …
Blackness abruptly engulfed her and sound faded into utter silence.
CHAPTER TWO
Off the coast of Amar
Round 2305, Twentieth Pass
‘Hey, timekeeper! How long to the sixth?’
Meru jumped to his feet at the captain’s request, running aft to the centre of the Bethany. He dodged the bulky fishermen, all straining at pulling in nets over the flanks of the boat. The nets were coming in, hand over hand, the fishermen singing a coarse rhythmic song in time with their exertions. The deck was already slick with fish oil under his bare feet, the holds almost full of flatters, cabbles and stockfish.
Meru reached the wheelhouse and jumped inside. There, bolted to the wall was a complex collection of glass hourglasse
s, nine in total, each representing a ‘chime’. The last one was much bulkier than the other eight, representing the long chime, or ‘the sleeping’ as most called it. All contained a fine bright sand. The first five were spent, the sixth was almost empty, the sand streaming down into the lower receptacle. The remainder were full, awaiting their turn. Meru leant down and looked at the sixth timer with a practiced eye, quickly assessing its level.
He jumped up and stepped on to the deck. His foot slipped on the body of a fish, he kicked it away as it flapped angrily.
‘Just under two spells, Captain.’
The captain nodded in response. ‘Get to hauling the nets then, weather’s turnin’. Want this in before the sixth. Get to it.’
The men grumbled, but put their backs into the work, knowing that it would take them at least a double chime to sail home. The sails were stowed and yet to be hoisted.
Meru glanced across the starboard side out to sea. The island of Amar, their home, was way beyond the horizon, but they could still make out the smoke from fires lit on the coast to serve as markers for fishing vessels; they were kept burning whenever the fishing vessels were out. Meru had heard nervous mutterings as Amar disappeared from sight earlier on. They’d sailed so much further this time, hoping for a richer catch. Fishing had been thin these last passes. The gamble had paid off, this stretch had been a good one, the holds of the Bethany were full, the ship sitting low in the water.
Meru knew it had been a risk, sailing close out to the edge of ‘the smoke’. If you lost sight of it you’d be lost and unless you were very lucky you’d never find your way back, the currents would see to that. Several vessels were lost each round, no one knew what became of them.
Meru turned around and squinted into the bright warm globe of Lacaille that hung unmoving. It occupied a full quarter of the sky, a warm orange sphere of light, unchanging and constant with just the faint suggestion of movement on its glowing surface. Its edges were noticeably less bright than its core, giving the suggestion of a sphere.