“Where did the girl and the old man go?” he mused, looking around, and instantly Zya knew what the shop was about.
“In the shop,” she replied, “that is where he went, him and the girl both. We need to go in there also.”
He looked a bit nervous, as he bravely said. “Let's get in there, and then maybe we will find a way out of this place.” Leading the way, he opened the door, and nearly jumped out of his skin as the door yielded with a protesting shriek, clamouring to be left alone. Things had certainly changed. Forcing the door open wide enough to admit them both, he left it wedged amongst the rust of hinges that had not been oiled in a lifetime of use. The shop was as they had left it, but it was warmer, against the bleak cold of the day that had seemed to penetrate through its very walls when they had been in there before. They traversed the network of shelves, until they reached the dust-covered counter at the back of the shop. This had evidence of more recent doings. There were hand marks in the dust where somebody small had made a pattern with their fingers, and there were footmarks leading behind. He peered around the counter, and for his efforts was sent sprawling as a small fist connected with his jaw. The girl jumped out from behind the counter, and instantly she could see that the girl was the source of the difference. She was the same as before, but her eyes were rolled up in her head, giving her the semblance of some wild and unnatural creature. There was nothing unnatural about the way the girl moved though, for she was balanced on the balls of her feet with catlike agility, ready to spring. The feeling, the distant memories. They were all centred on this small character that appeared before them. “You should not be here!” The girl screamed, and then looked directly at her. “The gates aligned focus the mind to cross the bridge,” she hissed in a low menacing voice. “Set me free. I must be set free!”
“I don't understand,” Zya replied, though the girl barely seemed to be listening, so intent was the girl on her companion, who led there stunned. ”How can I set you free? What must I do?”
“Free!” screeched the girl, and then preceded to do a silly little dance, wiggling her head about. “Free free free free free. Free us! Fulfil your destiny. Freeee us!” The girl pulsed, for there was no other word for it, and a wave of energy sent them both back to the doorway, skidding along the floor. The girl raised her face to the ceiling, and a purple glow erupted from within her. The girl yelled and the two companions let out a scream at the same instant. The light dropped outside, and the only thing that could be seen was the eerie glow of the light from far within the shop. A laugh was heard, and the ground rumbled beneath them. “The beach calls you.” Said a sinister voice, and the floor beneath them liquefied. They felt it sucking at them, and they were drawn down into it, slowly, gradually. Then they were on the beach, but still sinking into the quicksand. As they watched, a river shaped itself about them, avoiding the quicksand as if it were anathema. The river actually seemed shaped by the presence of the sand. They clawed and pushed, but it only served to make them sink quicker. She panicked, letting out a yell, and he did the same. The sand closed up around her neck with the cold tingle of snow, and the pressure of mountains. Her last sight as she went under was of the girl running straight for her, purple light streaming from her eyes, and a maniacal laugh issuing from her mouth.
Zya coughed, retching imagined sand as she lurched upright, and then inhaled the deepest, sweetest breath of air that she could remember. Afraid to open her eyes, she felt around her. She was on a bed of some description, with a mattress underneath, and a comforter gently pressing down over her legs. She checked herself over with her hands. She felt cold, and numb somehow, but the warmth was returning rapidly, which came as a relief.
“Welcome back to the world of the living, lass,” said a voice that she did not recognise, though it had a familiar quality about it.
Risking her other senses, Zya opened her eyes, to be assaulted by sunlight from a distant window. Flinching, and protecting her eyes with her hand, she tried to get a look at the man that had spoken to her. She peered out past her fingers. The man was big; not fat-big, but muscle-big. As her eyes came into focus, she saw that he had a pair of the gaudiest green trousers she had ever laid eyes on, mismatched with a blue jerkin that sparkled, and was edged in lace. “Darrow? Where am I?” She asked, her normally smooth voice coming out of her mouth as a gravely croak.
“You are in my house, young lady, where you fell asleep an age ago.”
“I must have lost it for a while. I don't remember coming to this place. What has happened to me?”
The large man sat down, exposing her to more sunlight. As Zya winced, and almost dived back under the covers, he realised the nature of her discomfort and closed the door firmly. “Do you not remember?” At a shake of her head he continued. “You collapsed outside the mercenary guild after uttering some pretty strange things, so I have heard. Your man and I dragged you back here and you have been asleep ever since. Your young friend has been here too, and he has been in exactly the same state as you. Your man hints that it may all be connected.”
The memories and feelings hit her all at once. The boy, her 'man', the uneasy feeling she had been having. It all centred upon the rock of that building. “Ju? Lorn? Oh Gods, O'Bellah!” She screamed as the realisation hit her. “He is in this city! We must get out of here!”
Chapter Six
Darrow put his meaty hands on her shoulders, preventing Zya from getting up. “No lass, you aren't going anywhere yet. Not until you are fully recovered from your ordeal, and your man says you have to stay abed for a while after you wake, to recover your strength.”
“He isn't my man,” Zya said absently, though the phrase brought a warm feeling.
“Whatever,” he replied. “You still can't get up, you are too weak.”
“Nonsense, I feel as well rested as ever I have.” Zya tried to reply with a defiant look in her eyes, but failed.
He shrugged. “I have no time to argue with you, girl. So be it, but don't say that I didn't warn you.” He turned, and leaving the door ajar, left the room. Outside, Zya saw a glimpse of Yneris. Darrow passed her with a lingering touch to her arm. “She won't listen.”
Yneris chuckled. “Just as they said that she wouldn't. Is she well?”
Darrow shrugged noncommittally. “Well enough to try and get up, but not well enough I think to be able to move more than a couple of steps, if she is strong and extremely fortunate.”
Zya climbed out of bed in an attempt to prove them wrong, and abruptly proved them right by crashing to the floor as her legs gave way.
“Come, dear. Let's get you back into bed.” Yneris cooed in her most mothering voice.
“I can't. I need to… you know…” Came her weak reply.
“Oh, yes I suppose you would.”
The surprised look on Darrow's face was enough to tell a story as his wife came out of the room with Zya's arm draped around her shoulder.
“Move it you lump,” Yneris ordered, and Darrow obeyed without hesitation.
“What are you doing?”
“What do you think,” she answered. “This girl has been asleep for the Gods only know how long and is weak as a kitten. She can't stand on her own, so what in the name of the ocean do you think I am doing? Help me take Zya upstairs, and while we are about it, go and check on the boy.”
Darrow helped Yneris bundle Zya up the stairs and into the room. Ju lay there, motionless, although his visitors caused quite the reaction. “Zya is here?” he called.
“Yes I am here too, Ju.” Her voice echoed around the halls.
“Well blow me down,.” he said, a smile erupting like a sunrise on his face.
“Did not expect her, eh lad?” Asked Darrow. Zya sensed his obvious surprise, now mixed with relief.
In response, Ju shook his head absently, his eyes widening as he saw Zya. She frowned, implying that nothing was different.
“So how are we doing, my little sneak-thief?” Darrow said in a guffawing display of camaraderie
.
“If I don't get out of this bed and to a privy, I'm gonna wet me britches, Captain Sir.” He replied in his typical forthright manner.
“Well, let's get you ship shape then, boy.” Darrow scooped Ju up and carried him.
After their ablutions, Zya and Ju found themselves in the large room they had previously eaten in. Balancing ale, meats, cheeses, bread and a variety of sauces on several trays, Darrow and Yneris soon joined them with enough food to feed a family for a week.
“Ready for some food, me little darlin'?” Darrow asked of Ju. “Would you like me to feed you?”
“I can do it myself,” the boy announced, full of insult and belligerence. Levering himself up, Ju wobbled as he made his way to the table, beads of sweat standing out on his forehead. He made it though, and reached straight for the ale tankard. Taking a huge gulp, his face screwed up. “Pah. Eww.”
“Too strong for you, young scamp?”
Ju looked up with a glance that would have put a child in its place. “No, Mr Captain sir, the ale has been watered down. How do you expect me to get better with this watery excuse?”
Darrow burst out laughing, slapping his hand on his thigh in mirth. “By the Gods you are a handful! One of your age should not be sampling strong ale!”
Ju stared steadily at him, showing tremendous patience and making Darrow think that he was missing something. “I grew up around an Inn. Do you think I would have spent all of that time there and not sampled ale? I could match you in a drinking contest.”
“No you could not, whelp. Not in this house, not even in this city.” Yneris was in the doorway, and had been watching this exchange. “You are lucky that you were not given goat's milk, and should be thankful for what you have got. Many go with much less, as you well know.”
Darrow watched as his wife's words sunk in. Before the boy could retort, he added a comment of his own. “The lad was only jesting, go easy on him.”
Yneris gave him a look that spoke as plain as daylight that she did not believe either of them for a second, and then left, her heels thumping on the steps as she walked downstairs. “I have sent for the father and the tribesman,” she called from the kitchen, “they will be here presently.”
Darrow sat down on a chair bed while Ju and Zya tucked into the food with an appetite that had been growing for a long time. “So what do you think of my beds and my house?” he asked, more for conversation than anything else.
“This is not your house.” Ju answered around a mouthful of cheese. “You do not live here. It is not big enough for you. I would say that this is a front for something more.”
“What makes you say that?”
“The size of the house.” Ju mumbled as he stuffed a crust into his mouth, leaving barely any room for more food. “I went around the outside, and the rooms in here are much too small for the size of this building. I would say that you are not a trader, but a pirate, and this is your storehouse, nothing more.”
“And I would say that you are a bit too clever for your boots lad, to be making wild accusations of me like that. Darrow replied, feigning insult. “Whatever I may be, I am certainly one to thank for keeping you here this long, and also, I will have you know, for helping to keep your lady friend here safe.”
Ju attacked the remaining crusts and rinds. All in all, he ate just about everything that was put before him, and drank even more. “You look different.” He observed of Zya as he pushed his plate away. “Yneris braided my hair to keep it tidy, which is a new look for me. I have never done this before.”
“Keep it that way, dear. It suits you, and will not mark you out of place in this city.” At a silent command, they were helped back into the bedroom by this oddest of couples. Ju was placed upon the foot of the bed, his bow still behind him, and apparently causing him no concern at all. He barely seemed to notice that it was there.
“I must thank you for all you have done for strangers, ma'am.” Zya said with a respectful nod of the head. “I would ask one further boon of you if I may.”
Yneris smiled. “Anybody who speaks so politely will surely be granted all the boons they like, my dear.”
“I am most grateful. May young Ju and I be left alone to talk quietly until my father and Lorn arrive?”
“Absolutely,” Yneris replied, “I am sure you have a lot of catching up to do. She prodded her husband out of the room before he was given a chance to leave. As the door was closed firmly, they listened to the ensuing conversation.
“When are you going to start wearing decent clothes again?”
“I am Darrow the pirate, and everybody expects me to wear the most outrageous finery there is available.” Darrow sounded hurt.
“But do you have to wear it in such confined spaces, my love? There is enough of you as it is, and all this colour is giving me a headache. Go on with you, go and pack for the journey we must make. Return when our guests arrive and mayhap we can make more out of this situation than you have managed to make so far.”
Watching the door as the couple left, Zya bade Ju be silent for a long while until she was sure that nobody was near them. She looked from the door to him, bidding him to ask the question.
He did not disappoint. “Where were we?”
“I have no idea,” she replied. “Honestly, if I have ever been there, it was not in this life. I have never been in the sight of the sea until I came to this city, and we saw a lot of sea. I have certainly never been aboard a ship before. How much do you remember?”
Ju sighed. “I'm confused. I know that we salvaged a wrecked ship, and almost drowned in quicksand.” He looked hesitant. “I know more than that, and you know exactly what I know, more or less.”
“I think that I do, Ju. It is like we stumbled into the same dream from different perspectives. Do you remember anything about a storm?”
“No, do you of the barrels and crates we spent half a day heaving up?”
“No I do not, Ju. But I will never forget the girl. She reminded me of me.”
Ju looked prophetic as he said, “The gates aligned focus the mind… Or something like that.”
Zya paled as the words came back to hit her. “The beach calls you. Oh Ju, who was the old man?”
Ju looked angry for a second. “Forget the old man, the pirate captain that looked like a cat and smelled like its rear end. What were we doing? And what was I doing there?”
Zya looked into space for a moment, trying to comprehend what had started the chain of events that had brought her to this place, abed in a stranger's house, in an unknown place in the city. “O'Bellah is here.”
“What? How can you be sure?”
“I just am. Something tells me so. He is here, now, in this very city. I don't know whether or not that is a coincidence. I am sure that he had been in or is currently in the large stone building that I had been passing by when the very rock had spoken out at me, causing what surely must have been a seizure.” No, it was not a seizure, she thought to herself. It was an opening of the mind, leading to events that she could recall. She thought back to all of the things she had learned from the old woman in the tribe. Listen to her feelings; trust her instinct above all else for it surely was right. Suddenly it all became clear. “I am becoming a seer!” Zya gasped, almost whispering the words reverently in the moment of her discovery.
“Congratulations.” Ju said with a profound lack of respect. “Why was I dragged in there? I don't want to be part of dreams like that.”
Selfish as he sounded, Zya could not help but feel sorry for the boy. She could well understand that such events could frighten him greatly, and he looked pale from the experience despite all the food and drink he had swallowed down. “I do not know, Ju. In all the history of the tribe, there has never been a male seer. I cannot believe that this will suddenly change, but every fibre in my being says that you were there for a reason, that there was a tie between us that even prophecy cannot cut. Ju, I was glad you were there.” Zya stared so intently at him as she said this,
that he was forced to avert his face from her dark-eyed gaze.
“What do we tell them?” He asked. “Do we tell them everything?”
Something warned Zya against this. “No. I have to keep some of this to myself.”
“Don't you mean to ourselves?”
“You don't know all of the answers, Ju. That is for me to find out. The wise women of the tribes never gave out all the information. I am suspicious of those that keep their motives hidden. They serve the tribes, and aide them, but to what extent?” If what she had learned during her tenure with the wise woman in the tent of herbs and signs was correct, then this instinct came as naturally to her as it did to them. There was something more that eluded her senses, a feeling that there was something else that she needed to learn. It was not the embryonic power of a seer that warned her against telling all, but something else. Ju had shared her dreams, and despite it all would do whatever she asked of him. The boy was still visibly shaken, and would remain so for a very long time. “No, we need not tell them everything. There are issues that we need to work out for ourselves. Meanings we need to try and understand. We can tell them about the dream, and what we saw, for they will be interested. Even more so if you tell it, for something unusual has happened here, and I do not know how to deal with it as of yet.”
The Path of Dreams (The Tome of Law Book 2) Page 17