“Wait,” Tom said, but his command came out hoarse and pleading.
Sânuoi stopped at the archway and waved in two smaller merrow, children with trays of food and drink. “Refreshments while you wait,” Sânuoi told them. The trays were polished shell, the food small piles of meat Tom didn’t recognise, the drink simple water served in giant curling shells like a snail’s. “Be patient,” the merrow added, and bared his teeth before he left with the children. Only the guard remained, staring at them like they were dangerous animals.
Everyone stood in silence for a moment.
“I don’t know what that stuff is,” Six said. “But I’ll eat anything.” He sat in the sand next to the trays, took a swig of water and tried a strip of a wet, white meat. “Interesting,” he said, with a disgusted smile.
“You don’t like it?” Dank sat next to him.
“Try it,” Six replied, and laughed when Dank did and pulled a face.
“That is,” Dank said, sticking his tongue out like a small child, “unusual.”
“Shall we eat?” Tom said to Katharine, whose gaze seemed fixed on the sea. She looked small and uncertain, a stranger wearing her face. But her expression darkened when he tried to offer her a reassuring smile, and she sat and ate and drank without looking at him.
It was clear Brega wanted to join them. But Neirin stayed where he was, gazing out into the dark waters, and she seemed unwilling to leave his side. Draig prowled around the edge of the clearing; did she distrust him? Or was it something else?
Tom took one of the shells and drank deep. The water was cool and had an odd flavour but was welcome all the same. He could feel his headache easing already.
“This is revolting,” Six said, handing Tom a shell with round slices of flesh covered in a sort of clear jelly. “You have to try it.”
“Do I?” Tom said. But it was food, so he did. Six was right. “Emyr’s black bones, that’s bad.”
“Try this instead.”
Tom took the shell and picked up a strip of pink fish. It was raw. Tom went to put it back but Six just nodded at him so he ate it. It was chewy and bland.
“Not much better,” he said.
Six just handed him something else, this a smaller shell with a glob of flesh in the middle. The elf mimed tipping the contents into his mouth.
They were salty and gooey.
“You’re doing this deliberately, aren’t you?” Tom asked after washing his mouth out.
“Oh yes.” Six grinned.
Dank was smiling too. Even Katharine was trying to fight a smile. And although they were miles underwater, at the mercy of a strange people, Tom had to laugh. The cries of disgust, the glee of eliciting them, the joy he found in his own, Tom clung to them like a drowning man to driftwood. They ate because they had to, because the West had starved them. But to dwell on that was too painful, so they made a game of it all.
But not the Easterners. As Tom ate some smoked fish, somewhat more palatable than Six’s suggestions, he saw Neirin turn away from the water. He was holding a bag, Tom’s satchel, the one Maev had given him. Tom hadn’t noticed it in the chaos of the escape.
“Brega. Draig.” Neirin opened it and pulled out two skull masks. Siomi had told Tom that the masks were made of the bones of respected and beloved ancestors. They were treasured possessions in the East and Gerwyn, their gaoler, had put them on his wall like ornaments. Neirin must have saved them. He offered them without comment. Draig took his in silence. Brega touched the face of hers and Tom saw her eyes moisten.
“Thank you, my lord.” Her voice was like a whisper.
“I could not leave them.” Neirin reached into the satchel and pulled out another.
Brega cleared her throat. “Siomi’s?”
“Siomi’s.”
They stared at it for a moment. “I can do it, my lord, if you wish.”
Neirin shook his head. “No. It is something I must do,” he replied. “But later.” He returned the mask to the satchel.
Tom held his tongue despite his curiosity. Now wasn’t the time.
Six obviously disagreed. “Do what?”
“It doesn’t concern you,” said Brega, but Neirin shook his head.
“We must break Siomi’s mask,” he said, as if it broke him to say it. “She died a shameful death.”
Shameful? “She sacrificed herself for us,” Tom said.
“She died without a weapon in her hands. The Westerners slaughtered her like cattle.”
“No.” Tom rose to his feet. “No. She saw there was no way out while she was a captive. She took her life, so we could escape.”
“No. She did not.”
“I saw it.”
“Be silent,” Brega snarled. “That would bring an even greater shame on her name.”
“Why? Because she saved us?”
“Tom.” Katharine didn’t look at him. Didn’t offer comfort or emotion of any kind. “This is their way.”
“Well it’s wrong.”
Brega twitched as if she might strike him. “Still your tongue. Now.”
But Neirin lifted a hand to calm her and turned a raw gaze on Tom. “Please.” There was no rank. No lordliness or pomposity. It made Neirin sound hollow. Naked. “Don’t make this any harder.”
It felt cruel to say more. But Tom couldn’t leave it unsaid. “She sacrificed herself for you,” he said. “She gave her life. Her death. To save you. So you didn’t have to suffer a shameful death.”
“That is not what happened.”
“How can you say that? You saw it as clearly as I did.”
“Tom, quiet,” Six said.
“To do what you say she did, it is abominable.” Neirin’s face was like a rock, like he tried to feel nothing so he didn’t have to feel what he was saying. “To take Angau’s gift for yourself is a very great crime. One of the greatest. Do not accuse Siomi of it. Please, Tom.”
The clearing stilled, all eyes on him. Siomi had done a brave, terrible thing that had saved everyone’s life. And if somehow it was such a great crime, didn’t that make her sacrifice all the greater? There had been no fear, no anguish in her face. She had done what had to be done.
But Neirin was begging. Or the closest he would ever get. He didn’t want to remember his friend, protector, companion, in that way. He would rather remember her dying a useless death.
Tom looked at Katharine. She would know what to do. She had called him a liar and a coward. Was it cowardly to let Neirin have his lie? Or was it braver to bear Siomi’s gift alone?
Katharine just looked at a strip of raw fish in her hand.
It wasn’t right. Siomi had done something incredible. It wasn’t right to let them deny it.
“Don’t.” Brega’s voice was soft, without its usual bite. That was even stranger than Neirin begging. “You’ll drag her name through the mud.”
He would? He wasn’t the one with the perverted ideas about death. “Don’t lay this at my feet,” he told them. “I know what she did for us.”
The only sound was the rolling waves above their heads.
Chapter 2
Tom dreamt of an arena, of rows and rows of merrow looking down at him, their scales shining in the light. Waves crashed overhead as the merrow raised their hands in silence.
Tom dreamt of an arena, of rows and rows of men, women and elfs looking down on him, the world hot and dark with just a slit to see through. Thunder crashed overhead as he waited for his opponent to make his move.
Tom dreamt of his cell in Cairnalyr, dark and drowning, the filthy water creeping up past his mouth, his nose, over his eyes...
He woke with a start and a cry and flailed, trying to push himself to his feet, trying to keep his head above water.
“Tom, it’s okay.” Six’s voice was calm and soothing. He had a hand on Tom’s brow. “We’re safe.”
Tom stopped, lay back. “I thought I was in my cell.” He tried to slow his breathing, calm his racing heart.
“In that cell,” Six cor
rected him. “It doesn’t belong to you and you don’t belong to it.”
“Right.” Tom nodded and sat up. He reached out and touched the sword, just placed his fingers on the apple-shaped pommel to remind himself it was there. The metal was smooth and cool. It was reassuring. His heart slowed and his panic subsided in a moment. He looked around. Some of the others were sleeping too. Not Brega; she sat beside Neirin with a possessive air, like a dog guarding her dinner. And Dank stood by the wall of water, putting his hand in and out and swirling it around.
“Did I wake you?” Tom asked.
Six shook his head. “I’m not sure I’d be safe if I slept.” He nodded at Brega. Yes. Of course. Six was under suspicion. Tom had almost forgotten. It was hard to remember because he didn’t believe it. Or perhaps didn’t want to.
“How long has it been?”
“Since we were left here?” Six shrugged and handed him a shell filled with water. “Hard to say. There’s no sun here. The lights have dimmed, though. Perhaps it’s night.”
Tom followed the elf’s finger and saw the glow beyond the wall was less than before. Only one structure was visible, a tall, twisting rock tower.
He brushed sand out of his hair. “How’s Katharine?”
Six nodded. “It took her a while to relax but she’s sleeping now. She doesn’t like the water.”
“No.” He looked at her sleeping form, tucked up against the rock wall, her back to the world. “I didn’t realise.”
Six frowned. “I thought you two were close.”
“In ways.” Tom kept his voice low. He didn’t want the others to hear. “But I only saw her when she visited. Just a few days at a time. This journey is the longest time we’ve spent together.”
“Hmm.” Six looked him up and down. “I thought you had known each other a lot longer.”
“No,” he said. “But she was my only friend for a very long time.”
Six shifted, looked at his hands.
“What is it?” Tom asked.
“Nothing.”
A liar knows a liar. “Spit it out, Six.”
The elf let out a long breath, as if steeling himself. “You don’t treat her very well, if she’s your only friend.” He played with a ring on his finger. “We don’t have much time in Tir, before we’re called to the Isles of the Dead. Oen tells us to make right our wrongs. That we shouldn’t carry them but set them free.”
Tom could feel the heel of bread he’d eaten from Topknot’s grave. No-one had done the same for Siomi. Where had her wrongs gone? “When did you become so pious?” he asked.
Six smiled. It was sad and amused and bitter all at once. “Perhaps I’ve always been like this.”
Tom nodded at the elf’s hands. “What’s that?”
“This?” Six held up his ringed finger. The simple gold band was encircled in elfish lettering. “It means ‘lamb’.”
Tom squinted at it. The lettering was faded with age. “I’ve not seen it before.”
Six shrugged and lowered his hand, covering it with the other. “I wasn’t wearing it before.”
Tom’s first thought was that the elf was hiding something. But there was something different about him. Something approaching peace. “It was meeting him, wasn’t it?” he asked. “Meeting Emyr.”
Six smiled. “It’s not every day you meet a legend.”
He’s just a man. That’s what Tom would have said if the sound of a crashing wave hadn’t turned his head. The two merrow had returned, striding out from the sea.
There was no sign of Nimuë.
“Where is she?” Tom asked them. “Did you find her?”
But the merrow ignored him, leaving the clearing without a look or a word. Did they seem angrier than usual? “Wait,” Tom said. But they didn’t.
They were gone in a moment, but the commotion was enough to wake everyone. “They did not seem happy,” said Neirin.
“Do they ever?” Six countered.
“Nimuë wasn’t with them,” Tom said.
“If they think we lied to them we’ll never get out of here.” Brega looked at Tom as if it was his fault.
“We should think about escape,” Six suggested.
Neirin nodded. “It would be wise to have a plan should the worst occur. Lady Katharine, would you assist us?”
Six got up to join them but Brega raised her palm to Tom before he could rise. “Best you leave this to us,” she said, watching him settle again before going to her master’s side. Tom watched them all, even Draig, joined in hushed conversation. Their turned backs were crueller than Brega’s sneer. Hadn’t he saved their lives?
“Ignore them.” Dank was stood behind him, wearing a sad smile. “We thought it was a good plan.”
“Thank you.”
The boy looked up at the waves overhead. “But it might be time to think of another.”
It wasn’t long until Sânuoi returned with guards either side of him. “You are to come with me,” he said.
The others were still huddled in their circle. Tom, cast aside and left with Dank by the archway, was feeling sulky and belligerent when he asked, “Where are we going?”
“The Setta. Your fate must be decided.”
“They didn’t find Nimuë, did they?” But Tom already knew the answer by the hard look on Sânuoi’s face.
Still, the merrow’s voice was gentle when he ordered the guards to escort them. “Let this be done.” He almost sounded apologetic.
The guards carried pikes, long, barbed things that looked cruel and painful. Tom found them all pointed at him when he strapped Caledyr to his back. One guard barked at him in their harsh tongue. Sânuoi spoke too, and they disagreed for a moment. Then Sânuoi said to Tom, “You carry a weapon.”
“I do.”
“Will you give it up?”
“No.”
The merrow smiled. “It is our law that prisoners are unarmed.”
Tom knew it would be best not to antagonise their captors any more than they had to. But he had lost the sword once. He couldn’t lose it again. “We don’t want any trouble,” he said. “All we want is to return to the surface.”
Sânuoi shook his head. “I will take you to the Setta. They will decide that,” he said. “But our law is law.”
“And what happens to those who break the law?”
“They are taken to the Setta where judgement is passed on them.”
Tom fought a smile and folded his arms. The guard scowled but Sânuoi just flapped his fins.
“Do as you will, surface man,” he said. “The Setta will speak.”
With that they were herded out of the clearing and into the city proper.
It was unlike anywhere Tom had seen. There were no signs of brick or construction; the buildings were carved out of natural rock formations. Some were tall and towering, home to dozens of doorways, others were small and housed a single hovel. Their feet fell on smooth stone-like scales growing out of the sand, while homes and shops twisted out of the ground on either side. Some streets branched off into the sea where they continued, underwater but no different for it. Doorways and windows were closed with enormous shells, bone structures, or sometimes driftwood. The same glowing moss grew everywhere, fighting off the dark of the deep, giving off light of all colours from green to purple to yellow and more. The light gave a surreal air to the world, but more unnerving was the quiet. The city felt abandoned. Shops and stalls were closed. Homes were shuttered and empty, the streets silent. There was only a low, quiet roar in the distance.
“Where is everyone?” Six asked.
“The Setta,” Sânuoi said.
“What is the Setta?”
Sânuoi bared his teeth again. It wasn’t a threat, Tom noticed. What did it mean? “Where the people meet,” he replied. “To decide things.”
“A public forum,” Six said.
“A place for them to pass their judgement on all things.”
Tom cast a glance at the guards escorting them. He wasn’t sure he liked th
e idea of their judgement.
“What’s a public forum?” he asked Six, keeping his voice low so the merrow didn’t hear. “We have them in the West. They’re a place where the people can make themselves heard. The Proctors listen to their concerns, pass judgement on civil matters, relay bigger concerns to the king. Or, at least, that’s the idea.”
“The idea? It doesn’t work?”
Six shrugged. “Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn’t.”
Why would Sânuoi take them to such a forum? Were they going to have an audience with their local lord? The roar grew louder as they walked, and it wasn’t long until they emerged into an enormous open space, a huge plain dominated by a circular structure. It was so tall that it broke into the water above them, waves crashing against walls and columns. The Setta looked insubstantial, a lattice of brickwork filled with gaps and windows. It was the only thing they had seen that looked built, from brick and stone, but it was old. Tom didn’t think he had ever seen anything older. Time and use had weathered and worn it down, leaving sections crumbled and ruined. The merrow had patched it with whatever materials came to hand, but it had seen its best days come and go.
“The Setta?” Tom asked and Sânuoi nodded.
“Looks like a theatre to me,” Brega muttered. When Tom turned she looked embarrassed to have been heard, but said, “The Erhenni have them. It’s where they have their trials.”
“Trials?”
“By combat.” Brega nodded at the Setta. “They look like that.”
Trials? Were they on trial because the merrow hadn’t found Nimuë? Sânuoi was speaking to a group of the green-skinned creatures. They all carried pikes too. Tom asked Brega, “Will they make us fight?”
She shrugged. She seemed uninterested in the answer. Only Dank spoke. “No. We do not think so.”
“Do you know that, Dank, or are you guessing?”
Dank shrugged too, but his came with a smile that said he knew as much as Tom did.
Draig stepped forward. “If fighting they wish for us, I will do it.” It was the first thing he’d said to Tom since they’d arrived. “I have best skills with a sword.” He was waiting. For Caledyr. He was waiting for Tom to give him the sword.
The Realm Rift Saga Box Set Page 33