“You mean to keep the words of the girl between us?” said Ju as he shifted his bow without conscious thought.
Zya looked down at her own dagger, knowing it to have an addictive magical quality. Were the weapons connected? Was there a link? She had been made aware that her dagger had some dangerous quality; perhaps the same was for the bow. Her father had never given her anything other than stories about where he got them from, and she had yet to hear a plausible explanation. “The words of the girl, yes. If what is happening here is as I think, they will listen to every word we say, and make a lot out of it.” Zya realised that the words she spoke were overlaid with what could only be termed the conscious thoughts of the woman whose tent she had entered what seemed like an age ago. It was as if the seer were speaking through her mouth. Zya suddenly had the forewarning to realise that they would come for her, as they had come for many other girls that had become seers and wise women. She would not let them take her. “We need to figure out what it means.”
“What it means? I'll tell you what it means. It means we have to get out of here before we drown, or get stabbed, or sucked into an abyss prepared for us by some cat faced pirate fish on a ship that will sink and then float off again.”
As Ju spoke of the dream, Zya could see every image as clearly as if it had already happened. “We do not know that any of that will ever happen, Ju, just that it might. I think this dream means a lot of things, but it does not mean that we are going to experience it at all. The Old Law says that we must listen to our hearts in this, and the ways of the wise women echo that, whatever their motives.”
Ju looked unconvinced. He slipped his bow from his shoulder and shook it in his fist. “This is what I want to be, a hunter, not a seer. Even a thief in this city would be more fun.”
“No it wouldn't.” Zya's firm hand reached across to sit Ju down. “That is against everything the Old Law teaches us. To steal is one of the worst possible acts against another person, and the Old Law forbids it.”
“The Old Law does not exist in this city.” Ju argued, and Zya could feel the boy's frustration. “Merchants hold the sway here, merchants with money, and reason will gain you nothing without force.”
Zya could see that the experiences that the boy had been having in this city were very different from her own. “Those things are what you should be concerned about, unless you want to stay here. Ju, we will leave this city eventually, and you know that well. Will you fall under the sway of the greedy and corrupt? I think not, and I know that you have the feeling you will move on because we shared that experience in our dreams. There is a higher power involved, I swear it. We were not meant to stay here.” She leaned forward, taking one of his hands in her own, and implored him. “Please, Ju. Be a warrior some other day. Be my friend today. I am as scared of what is happening as you are, and I need somebody to help me through this. You are the only one that knows what this is like. Help me. Help me to find the answers.”
Ju looked torn as he struggled with himself. “I have settled the most of all of us in Bay's Point, and would be prepared to call this place home after the waxing and waning of only one moon.”
“You are young, and really the most adaptable. I am envious of the fact that you have had only had a few places to call home. I myself have been on the move around the central and western Duchies for as long as I can remember. I have never had a place to call my own. My home has been a collection of people rather than a house or a town. I am definitely not comfortable in the city, but can appreciate that you are definitely not the same as me.” There was a kindred spirit, and both of them knew it. Something bound them together. Something indefinable that had drawn them into an unconscious reality on more than one occasion, showing them wonders, and scaring them beyond the capacity for rational thought, leaving them running with nothing other than the basal instinct for self-preservation driving their flight. That something had also kept them together and alive, and it was that indefinable quality that she hoped would influence Ju enough to help him make the right decision. He looked calmer, as if something within the boy becoming a man had been decided. “I will always be your friend, Zya. And I will always go with you.” He said the last with regret on his face, but he had said it, and she knew that he would hold to it no matter what the cost. Zya reached forward and hugged him in relief. It was good that they had reached this decision without outside influence. “So what do we do now? Do we leave the city?” So resigned to his fate. “I assume that we will leave as soon as is safe.”
Zya shook her head. “No. There is something that we need to find out here. When I first met you, back in Hoebridge, we had gone to the councillors and spoken to them about many things. One was the so-called 'Mayor', O'Bellah. They said that from time to time he disappeared, leaving lackeys spying on them. I am wondering if this is the place he visited, and if so, why. It may be that this is the reason for coming here, to find out what is up, or it may just be me. This is not a coincidence.”
Ju looked up with disinterest. “I had heard people in the inn talk of him, but I did not know the man. I had never even seen him. Was he bad?” The innocent look on Ju's face served to remind Zya that he was still a boy, and it had not been more than three quarters of a season since they had first met. So much had happened to them all during that time that it was hard sometimes to remember that not that much time had actually passed.
In answer to his question, Zya responded tactfully. “I felt something about him, a feeling that was not right. It began in the council hall of Hoebridge, and as we travelled away, I felt it spreading through the very land. It was not what could be called bad, or evil, but it was wrong. I felt the very same thing when I beheld that building before I collapsed. It triggered something in me I think. Did you feel anything before you fell asleep?”
“I don't know,” Ju shrugged. “I may have felt funny, but I was tired, and so I slept. How long did I sleep for?”
“I cannot say.” She replied. “Let us wait for my father and Lorn to arrive, and then I am sure that we will get more answers.”
It did not take long for Tarim to arrive once he heard the news. As true as he typically was, Tarim took Darrow at his word and left Zya alone, knowing that as far as Lorn was concerned they could do nothing. That did not mean that he was worried, but he threw himself into a frenzy of work, leaving himself exhausted at the end of each day. The commoners were appreciative, for he always finished each piece to perfection, be it the most intricate carving or the tiniest spoon handle. Work was the only way that he could channel his energies. Lorn on the other hand, skulked and brooded around the smithy he fletched arrows in. He was afraid for Zya. Not only did she have the mark of the seer on her, bringing the strange dreams and all that followed, but also he was afraid that the wise women, with their strange connections, would appear and whisk her off without him even being able to say goodbye. Thus did he abide by his own advice to stay away, but he would forever find himself tasks that involved passing through that area of the city, so that he could at least feel that he was near her. But upon receiving the news that the two had awoken, both men near-ran to the bakery, from which the same man guided them. Once Tarim had asked the guide why they still needed him when they knew the way.
The man had looked at him steadily, pausing in his stride. “Fir yer own safety.” He had said in a coarse accent that spoke with the voice of another region entirely. “Iff'n ye try and go there alone, ye will be shot down afore taking two steps.” The man had said nothing more, but had guided them faithfully to the house. Lorn judged that so many of the twists in the warehouse district were just rat-traps, designed with the sole purpose of baffling an enemy while archers took them out from the copious metal-reinforced windows that were shuttered around above them. He suspected that the roofs were flat also, but the streets were so narrow and the houses loomed so close that it was impossible to tell from down in the murk. Tarim meanwhile was just intent on one thing. Zya was the core of his life, and his sole reaso
n for being. He just wanted to get to her, and see that she was recovered. Upon entering the house, he uncharacteristically bypassed all welcome from Darrow and Yneris, forgoing their greeting understandably, and charging to the room that contained his daughter. When he entered, he found the room to be empty.
“If you would just wait a second and hear what we had to say, you would know that your daughter is elsewhere.” Said Darrow from the hallway. The pirate then indicated the room that they had previously sat in with a nod of his head.
“My apologies, to both of you.” Tarim replied with a bow. “It is most unseemly for a guest to abuse the polite intentions of his hosts and I beg your forgiveness.”
“Think nothing of it,” Yneris replied. “It is well that you think of your daughter in such a way. Much that has happened we know little of, and we would be as worried as you are.”
Tarim smiled a silent thank you at her, and hurried to the room.
“Are you not going in there too, lad?” Darrow asked Lorn, who had edged closer, but not actually stepped in.
“I don't want to crowd them,” he said by way of explanation.
“Go on, there is plenty of space.”
As Lorn entered, Tarim was checking over Juatin. Zya looked radiant, visions of prophecy filling her eyes, and exuding an air of untapped power, raw authority in the making. She smiled at him when he looked at her, and he approached, relieved. The young woman he had known before was still there, but augmented in some way by a power that was hundreds of generations in the making. He dropped to one knee, and looked up into her eyes. “If I had known that this would happen…” Lorn was lost for words.
“You would have never brought me here in the first place,” she finished for him, and he was not sure if that was the thing he had meant to say, but it seemed to fit his sentence. “That would not do,” she continued. “I would have come here anyway. This was destined to happen, I can see it now.”
“But…”
“Lorn, it would have happened whether we had come here or not. The place was a coincidence, but the time would not have changed. That much I can see from my experience.”
“So it is true then?” her father asked. “You have become a seer?”
Zya thought for a moment, seeking the answers inside. “No, not by a long shot. I am on the path, but it does not feel right with me. There is something else that needs to temper the visions. Something that I need to seek with in this city. I still do not know what it is.”
This concerned Lorn. “You know that you will not be able to remain here. The wise women will come for you.”
“They will not.” Zya countered, her voice full of authority. “They have already taken me in, back in the tribal gathering.”
“But… that only happens.” Lorn could only think of one thing. “That only happens to girls that have already had a vision.”
“This was not your first, was it my daughter?” Tarim saw straight to the heart of the matter.
Zya shook her head. “No, nor was it my second. This was the third time this has happened to me, and the second time that Ju has been involved.”
This was news to Lorn, who was ignorant of any of these facts until now. “But how… when..?”
“The first time I had a dream of this magnitude it scared me half to death.” Zya admitted. “That was the dream that I had before we left the caravan, and met you. The second dream was while I was in the tent of the seer, the first time that I shared a dream with Ju.” Zya looked over at her young friend with sympathy for his plight and admiration for his grown-up way of dealing with it. “We have no idea why he has begun to share the visions, but we have hope. The point is that no wise women are coming to whisk me off because if you recall I was gone for quite a while.”
“And you were vastly changed when you came out of that, I noticed.” Tarim observed.
“Yes, and though things were different, I managed to find my way back to myself,” Zya said with a smile. “If I was born to be a seer then that is where I would be right now, though I think that my path of dreams is different to the others. There is something that needs to be done, and yet I do not know what.”
“Do the dreams show the way?” It was Darrow, who entered with a tray loaded with food, Yneris following closely behind with tankards and a huge jug of ale.
“Maybe, if I could find the right road to tread,” Zya answered. “So far, they have had little obvious meaning.”
“But I had heard that the seers of the North were able to predict events.” Darrow persisted.
“Maybe the dreams show future events,” Zya responded vaguely. “I can tell you that from the dreams that I have had recently, little is meaningful. Whether or not the dreams have a purpose has yet to be decided.” Zya looked over at Ju, who stood up bravely, becoming the focus of the room.
“We were on a pirate ship, and it became wrecked. The captain stank, and had a face like a cat. We salvaged goods and took them to a village with no people in it and monsters attacking a guildhall.” Ju's description of the dream was accurate, but it left out many key facts. Zya smiled in approval. She wanted time to digest the meaning, to understand what it was she was supposed to take from such a vision with her into the world of waking.
“A face like a cat.” Said Darrow, deep in thought. “I have never heard of such a man, if one exists.” He looked at Yneris, who shook her head doubtfully. “Are you sure that was what was in the dream?”
“I am sure, but who is to say that the fact has any truth? I am new to this, and a mere fledgling in the art of picking out the meaning from a dream. It could be that the point of the dream was obscure, and had nothing to do with a pirate at all.”
Darrow looked unconvinced. “I think there was more to that than you let on.”
“Perhaps, but why would you care? You have been kind to us, but I don't even know you. Who are you, and what does piracy have to do with you?” Once more, introductions were made, but this time nothing was left out. At some unspoken command from Yneris, she was introduced as the captain and Darrow as her subordinate. They held no obvious information back, and Darrow concluded with the one statement that Ju had known all along. “This is not actually our house, but the front for a warehouse.”
“I knew it!” Ju nearly jumped out of his chair.
Darrow laughed, as did the others. “Well I suppose that we should show you what we mean by this being only the front. Are you two up to a walk yet?”
Zya stood, expecting to have little strength, but the food and drink she had taken had worked wonders on her. She felt as fit and alive as ever she had. “I think I am better, how about you Ju?”
The boy jumped to his feet, almost unable to contain himself. “I can't wait to see this.”
“All right then,” Darrow said in response. “Now bear in mind I do what I do because I think that we have some mutual interest here, and this will hopefully show an element of trust from our side. You have done well to trust us on the mere fact that I know Lorn's father, now we shall trust you to that same measure.” Darrow opened the door from whence he had brought the ale, and beckoned them in. The room was not large, but there was space enough for all six of them. Closing the door and locking it from within, Darrow pressed against a section of the wall. With a click and a rumble, the wall detached and rolled to one side, opening up a passage for them.
“Come on, in you lot.” Ordered Yneris. “Time and tides wait for no man.” They entered the corridor, which was lit periodically with lanterns. On both sides of the passage were doors at intervals. They bypassed many of the doors as they walked.
“What is behind these?” asked Tarim, peering closely at one door etched in gold.
“Death traps.” Yneris replied. “Behind every door there is something, and they are enabled or disabled on different days, so that the true entrance is only known to a few. I would not touch that particular door if I were you. Not today.” She led them to a drab wooden door with a faded brass handle, and twisted the handle
one way and then the other. The door creaked open slowly, resisting her push. They stepped inside. A series of counterweights hung behind the door, and off to one side, a selection of the cruellest looking spears were primed to burst out of what could only be described as an immense crossbow.
“Ouch,” said Ju, referring to the spears.
“Ouch indeed, lad,” agreed Darrow. “Only once have I ever seen these things used, and it was not a pretty sight. The poor soul took a short while to die, but was in the most extreme agony. Most of his guts were back in the hallway, on the end of the spears. It was an accident that did this to him, as the fool did not know the right door.”
“Thus do we make sure we know the right path before we set our feet upon it,” concluded Yneris.
“A wise move indeed,” agreed Lorn, who had been content until now to watch and listen. “But is it such a wise move on your part to take us any further? You and my father had good reason to disagree. What you may show us here is exactly the sort of thing frowned on by the rules that we live by.”
“Truer words have never been spoken, young archer.” Yneris conceded, getting echoes of agreement from her husband. “We do have good cause to show you this, despite your concerns. If you will be patient with us, we will try to explain it. Mayhap you will look upon us differently in a while.” Yneris spoke no more then, but led them through the room and down a set of stairs to another hallway, this one lit much more brightly by chandeliers. It was an oddly ostentatious touch in an otherwise drab building. Down one more set of stairs, and then they reached a doorway.
The Path of Dreams (The Tome of Law Book 2) Page 18