The Glass Swallow

by Julia Golding

‘Thought as much.’

  Katia turned back to the pot, releasing a cloud of steam as she took off the lid. ‘It’s very pretty. Not that we’ve room for something like that.’

  ‘I’ll have it in our bedroom,’ Bel said quickly.

  ‘No, ours!’ countered Helgis.

  ‘Of course we’ve space,’ Hern interjected, cutting them off before they started arguing. ‘Look round the room: everyone’s fascinated by it. I can’t imagine anyone objecting if we hang it from the beam by the window here.’

  Katia shook her head, stirring the stew vigorously.

  Hern took the mobile from Rain’s fingers and climbed on the table. ‘See, everyone, our guest has made us a present. What do you think?’

  There was a swell of appreciative words, with a few suggestions that she should make one for the other trades represented in the common room.

  ‘All right if I hang it down here then?’

  ‘Aye, if you try and take it away, that’s when there’ll be trouble,’ shouted Conal from among the hunters.

  A laugh of agreement rippled among the people.

  ‘That’s settled then. Peri, get a hook in the beam and we’ll put this up now.’

  Much to Katia’s annoyance, supper was delayed as Hern saw to it that Rain’s gift was treated with due honour. But even Katia couldn’t help smiling when the next morning she came in to find their end of the room danced with tiny rainbows as the light sparkled through the mobile.

  Shard 12

  Pale Blue

  After this first experiment, Rain was inundated with work. Proud of their foreign glassmaker, the scavengers even ventured into the city to make sure she was kept supplied with the glass shards she needed. Peri set up a table for her in the good light by the common room window so that she did not have to hide away in her bedroom to craft her designs. She became a popular fixture in her corner, attracting callers of all ages to see how her latest project was progressing. People were hungry for beauty in an increasingly ugly world beyond the compound. To find someone still able to make things reminded them that there was much to value in the world and lightened everyone’s spirits.

  Perfecting her technique with each essay, Rain indulged her imagination and created a shaggy-haired dog for the hunters, a black bull for the butchers, and even a comical horse and cart for the refuse handlers. Each one hung from the ceiling over the heads of the families belonging to that profession, tinkling gently like tiny bells when a draught blew through the chamber. On each one she etched a swallow, so small none noticed what she had done, but to her it was a promise that she would never forget who she was and what she was capable of if given more than fragments to play with.

  Peri liked to spend his free hours sitting beside Rain, mending his equipment or cleaning his weapons. They got so used to each other’s company that words were not necessary and they would often share a comfortable silence for long periods of time while each was absorbed in their tasks. He liked it best when she accepted his invitation to walk with him whenever there was a fine evening. Then he could touch her, taking her arm as they circled the compound at a slow pace. When he thought no one was watching, he would steal a playful kiss or two, but it was rare they were really alone. As the days became weeks, he had the strangest sensation that the bonds joining them multiplied each day, like the intricate web she wove in cotton to hold the fragile shards in place.

  One afternoon in early April, he sought her out, finding her as he expected absorbed in her newest piece. He sat down and began working on his hunting quiver, glancing up from time to time to watch the flicker of her sooty lashes as she examined each shard with care, the chestnut gleam of her hair tied back to keep it out of her way. It had begun to worry him that she still spoke of returning home. He as good as told her every time he kissed her that he cared for her but was still waiting for her to confess her feelings for him. When she had produced the mobile for his family, he had taken heart that she had spent so many hours making a gift surely calculated to please him, but he wasn’t sure if it was a gesture of friendship or something more. Fear of rejection prevented him from asking straight out; he wanted a clearer sign. Did she not wonder if she might want to stay with him in Magharna? Part of him was secretly glad that she had no choice for the moment but to remain where she was. That way he had time to bind her to him as tightly as he felt bound to her.

  ‘Peri?’ Rain knotted the thread she had been working on.

  ‘Hmm?’ Peri looked up from the arrow he was fletching with some of Rogue’s feathers.

  ‘Did you go talk to the fishermen like you said?’

  ‘You know I did. I took them the fish hanging you made for them: they were delighted. I thought I told you all that yesterday.’

  She dabbed at a tiny cut on her fingertip which was beading with blood. Gently taking her hand in his, Peri drew a cloth from his bag and cleaned it for her. ‘You should be more careful: you’re cutting yourself to pieces.’

  ‘Hazard of the job,’ she said with a shrug. ‘But about the fisherfolk, did you talk about anything else? About what to do? The lawlessness has gone on for over a month now.’

  Peri put the cloth aside. ‘I talked to Murdle. He said the city is nearly empty; people have gone out into the countryside to find food, taking trouble with them.’

  ‘Isn’t it time someone stepped forward to restore some order? The strong might survive this, but what about the ordinary people, the vulnerable ones?’

  ‘We discussed that, but we really don’t think we have enough men for the job. The fishermen have about fifty; we’ve got almost a hundred; but you know how big the city is: we’d need an army to put down the looters.’

  Rain toyed with a pale blue piece of glass, holding it up to the light to check its colour. ‘I’ve been hearing rumours from the hunters. There is someone with enough men for the task.’

  ‘Oh? Who would that be? Not the Master, because he’s currently running around barefoot with my pest of a brother.’

  ‘No, not Ret. I was thinking of Krital and the bandits.’

  Peri had thought he had got used to the way Rain’s mind worked, but she had managed to floor him with that suggestion. ‘That was a joke, right?’

  She put down the glass and stretched her arm behind her head, relaxing her tense muscles. ‘No. In my craft, I’ve learned to work with what I can get. Krital’s a criminal but, think about it: he’s all that’s left.’

  ‘It’s true that he’s managed to keep the bandits together all this time, but only because they are knee-deep in riches.’

  Rain had expected Peri not to follow her train of thought immediately; he was too much of a Magharnan to think the unthinkable as she did. ‘Peri, Krital’s done more than that. He’s set up his headquarters near the old mine on the road to the port. He’s got deputies that report to him, patrols keeping an eye on the land he considers his; he even holds hearings when there are disputes. Sounds like a little government to me.’

  Peri rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. ‘Bandits, Rain. Remember them? The people that killed everyone you were with and took you prisoner?’

  ‘Of course I haven’t forgotten—and I’m not excusing his behaviour or defending his glaringly absent morals.’ Memories of that day cropped up frequently as her nightmares. ‘But I’m thinking what we can do with the fragments that are left, not of what I would choose if we started from scratch. I doubt Krital chose his life as a bandit—he was forced out by the old system. If given the choice, isn’t there hope he’ll take the opportunity to change?’

  ‘Krital wants me dead for taking you from him, remember?’

  She shook her head. ‘Surely he’ll have forgotten all that by now.’

  ‘I wouldn’t bet on it.’

  ‘He’s a thug, I know that, but at least he is easy to understand. He will do what he sees as in his own interests. Have you not thought that if nothing is done the farmers will not be able to tend their crops this year. We’ll all starve come winter. What’s
the bigger crime: letting people die of hunger or making an approach to people we’d rather not have to deal with? If we can persuade him that he will be better off on the inside of the new Magharna, rather than as an outcast on the road, I think he might help us.’

  ‘He’s not some misunderstood hero waiting for a chance to reform—don’t deceive yourself that he has a good side.’ Recognizing the slow-burn of panic inside his chest, Peri silently cast around for ways to stop her heading off on this disastrous course. ‘He won’t take any notice of you, so how exactly are you thinking of persuading him?’

  Rain gave an awkward half shrug. ‘With this?’ She gestured to the latest design, a horse rearing on its hind legs.

  ‘Sweetheart, your creations are wonderful, but even you aren’t that good. Krital won’t do your bidding for a bunch of broken pieces strung into a pretty pattern.’

  ‘No, but it might make him pause long enough to listen to what we’ve got to say. I don’t like him or his ways—frankly, he terrifies me—but we need him.’

  ‘We?’ Peri stood up. ‘If you think for one moment that I’d risk asking Krital for anything then you’ve got another think coming to you. He’ll run me through and not think twice about it.’

  ‘I see.’ Rain was disappointed. As with her designs, she felt she always saw the whole of what was needed long before others understood what she was aiming for. Magharna needed a force to impose order; the only order at present was in small pockets like the compound or out among the bandits. The conclusion was simple: the country needed the ones they’d thrown away if it was going to get back on its feet.

  ‘Do you really see, Rain? Last time, I went along with your suggestion to go to the palace even though I didn’t like it. I did that because, though I knew it was risky, I didn’t think it a death sentence. You know we were lucky to get away with that. But this is different. You don’t understand the bandits like I do. There’s nothing you can say that will make them other than what they are: violent men out for themselves.’

  Rain recalled the man in the employment office all those months ago who had been forced out of the city for no greater sin than being without a job. ‘I don’t think they are all like that.’

  Peri threw up his hands in exasperation. ‘There’s no talking to you sometimes, Rain. You hear but don’t listen.’

  ‘You’re wrong. I listen but I am capable of forming my own opinions. We keep coming back to this, don’t we, Peri? You’d like me to go along with everything you say like some brainless sheep.’

  ‘At least it would keep you out of trouble,’ he muttered.

  ‘Well, bad luck, I’m no more going to be like that than I’m going to fly to the moon.’ She rolled up the cloth containing the finished mobile. ‘You have no right to order me around—you often act as if you do, you know. I find it really annoying.’

  ‘That’s not true.’ Peri felt a twinge of alarm: he didn’t want to mix this disagreement up with their relationship, not after all the progress he’d made over the last few weeks to earn his place at her side. ‘Don’t change the subject, Rain: I’m talking about your less than inspired idea of asking a bunch of murderers to keep the peace for us.’

  Rain sighed. ‘So you won’t come with me to see them?’

  ‘Neither of us is going anywhere.’

  ‘You’re content to sit here until the chaos outside beats down even these walls?’

  ‘That’s a false choice—it won’t happen like that.’

  ‘Why not? I can’t see anyone else doing anything to stop the slide. When people are desperate enough, they’ll come back here and won’t find a few hunting dogs enough to scare them away.’

  ‘We have plans. We’ll evacuate.’

  ‘And go where?’

  ‘There’s a village in the marshes, easily defended because it can only be reached by a causeway. The people are used to us as we use it as a base for hunting.’

  ‘Fine, so you’ve plans to save yourselves: but what about the rest of us?’

  ‘You’ll come too of course.’

  ‘That’s not what I meant.’ Tired now, Rain wanted to drop the discussion. Her own mind was made up but so was his. She couldn’t count on him for help so she’d have to do this alone. ‘Let’s go for a walk.’

  Peri was quick to accept, mistaking her shift in subject for acquiescence. He took her arm through his and led her to the path running along the top of the wall around the compound. Too dangerous to go out, this was the closest they could come to a change of scene. The view beyond the compound towards the city was depressing: Rolvint lay in ruins, the facade of white buildings marred by burnt-out gaps like rotting teeth in a skull’s grin. To the north stretched the untended plots of the city cemetery. He steered her towards the west with the vista towards the mountains. At least they hadn’t altered, still dominating the horizon with their smooth profile, clouds skimming their summit like lather on a face about to be shaved. Neither Peri nor Rain mentioned that that was where the bandits lived.

  Two more days passed. Rain was not so arrogant as to think her plan without flaw, but she was convinced no progress could be made in Magharna until law and order was restored. The scavengers were living a half-life hidden behind their walls, only to emerge in armed groups to make swift forays on the hunting grounds. They had been the lucky ones; Rain couldn’t bear to think how other people must be suffering. As for herself, she would never be able to get home, nor her father find her, if the roads remained impassable. Something had to be done, she thought, as she worked with her glass fragments, and it looked as if she was the one who had to do it.

  She chose a day for her departure when Peri, Helgis, and their mother were out hunting with their birds. She took very little with her: just the horse mobile and a spare set of clothes, knowing it likely that anything she had would be taken from her. She toyed with the idea of adding a knife for protection but decided it was more likely to be used against her if she had one. There was no way she would win a fight so she would concentrate on not getting into one.

  While Bel was helping her father with the washing, Rain scrawled a note to Peri in her bedroom. It was one of the hardest things she had ever done.

  Dear Peri,

  I think you can guess where I’ve gone and I know you’ll be furious. Don’t worry about me. Like the fey folk, I was always going to do what I thought right and you are not to blame if I am making a mistake. I’ll return as soon as I can but please do not wait if you have to evacuate the compound. Whatever you do, don’t come after me.

  Thank you for everything you’ve done. Look after Mikel.

  Rain

  She hesitated over whether to declare her feelings for him but decided that would be cruel. Better if he thought she took everything with her, including an intact heart, if he was to get over her departure. If he thought she did not care, then there was a chance he might feel so angry and let down by her that he would be dissuaded by his mother from coming after her—that would keep him safe. Rain folded the note, her hands shaking a little, knowing she was doing terrible damage to their relationship. When—if—she returned, she would try to explain. If he let her, maybe then they could explore what future they might have. She hadn’t mentioned it to him, but she had even begun to imagine staying with him—that’s if she could be sure that her father was not worrying about her. Or maybe she could persuade him to come to Holt with her? There were bound to be opportunities for a skilled falconer in her city. It was a lot to ask when Peri was clearly so close to his family, but her father needed her and …

  Rain pulled back from her runaway thoughts. How could she be thinking of the future when the next step was one that would take her away from Peri? She could not afford to indulge in such daydreams. Before normal life could resume for anyone in Magharna, including herself, someone had to take a risk and begin the process of rebuilding the shattered state.

  Leaving the note folded on her work table, Rain headed out towards the gate. She heard Bel and Hern laughin
g as they battled with a sheet in the stiff breeze. She’d miss the Falconers—with the exception of Katia. At least one of them would be happy this evening when they realized she had slipped away.

  ‘Rain! Where are you going?’ Ret popped out from behind the stable, a piece of straw clenched between his teeth.

  ‘Nowhere special,’ she replied wondering how she could shake him off her tail.

  ‘I’m bored. Want to play catch? I’m getting good at it.’

  ‘Not just now.’

  Ret might have been slow to learn some of the skills of ordinary life, but he was by no means a fool. He spotted her bundle.

  ‘You’re going somewhere—somewhere you don’t want Peri to discover,’ he guessed.

  Rain decided there was no point lying. He would find out soon enough and could not stop her. ‘All right, I’ll tell you: I’m going to ask the bandits if they would restore order in the city and the lands around. If nothing is done, the farmers won’t be able to plant, the harvest will be lost and your people will be facing starvation this winter. Even bandits need to eat though they don’t grow the stuff themselves.’

  Ret nodded, her reasoning making perfect sense to him. He had learned to accept that scavengers were not unclean; why not turn to outcasts to police his city?

  ‘That’s a good idea. I’ll come with you.’

  She hadn’t expected this development. ‘What? No!’

  Ret frowned. ‘Why not?’

  ‘It’s too … I’m not sure what they will make of my request.’

  ‘You were going to say it’s too dangerous.’ Ret pulled her bundle off her shoulder and looped it over his own. ‘Then you should stay here and I’ll go. I’m the Master; it’s my country; you’re the last person who should be risking your neck for us.’

  Rain tried to tug the bag back. ‘But I’ve a plan.’

  ‘Tell me it and I’ll do it.’

  ‘You’re not Master any more.’

  ‘I am—I’m just in disguise, remember?’