Naus chuckled. ‘No, you don’t.’
‘You think it’s all bullshit.’
‘Okay, maybe you do. But Totelun, you’re saying you believe the awfully convenient and rather far-fetched story of a man who tried to kill you. Possibly on the Orders of a Shaman Lord from the Islands. Shamans are never to be trusted, they peddle in myth and ritual. Ever thought he might be sending you to your death? Or that there might be someone up there waiting for you?’
‘But if there is, then that means that you can step from the mountain onto the Islands. How else did they get here? I mean, look at them, Naus. They are getting closer and closer to the mountain. They’ll be there in a few weeks. There must be some truth to it.’
Naus sighed. He couldn’t fault the observation. The Islands were indeed getting closer to the mountain. That mountain had been a fixture in his life for a thousand years, the silent sentinel watching over him ever since Eleutheria and he climbed half of it to find Theris Valley and found a city.
‘I have to hurry,’ said Totelun.
It was so disappointing. He had been so glad to be reunited, they both had. The boys back together again. They would rid the world of Medusi. But where his quest and Totelun’s had dovetailed together on their journey to Theris, now they had diverged. Their goals would take them in different directions, unless one or the other gave in.
And he didn’t see that happening.
Naus looked again and saw the farmstead approaching on the left bank. ‘We’re here.’
*
Naus left Totelun tying up the boat as he strode up to the farmstead, hoping Princess Cassandra Nectris was all right. They hadn’t seen any Medusi close to the buildings, but there were plenty nearby, only half a mile away at most.
He knocked on the door and got no response. He looked back at Totelun. Am I going to find a corpse? Then he chided himself. She was deaf, her hearing had been damaged in an explosion.
He pushed open the door and found her sat across the room on the wooden floor in a mound of thread-bare blankets. There were the remains of some food around her, a bottle or two, crumbs that must have been attracting rats. A few pieces of paper, and a quill, a little ink pot. He was cheered she’d entertained herself writing.
Above her, floating serenely like a little blue mushroom, was her Cephean Medusi. It could no longer hear what was happening around it, same as its host, so convincingly so that the Order had presumed her dead. They knew better now.
She was so still Naus checked she wasn’t dead for himself.
Cassandra was dozing lightly when he nudged her shoulder. She jerked awake, opened her mouth in a silent gasp. But when her eyes met his she leapt up out of the blankets and grabbed him in a fierce embrace. Naus swallowed back his own tears. He hardly knew the young girl, yet she had placed great faith in him. Naus hadn’t seen anyone in probably the last hundred years, who was as glad to see him as she was.
Eventually she let him go.
‘You’re okay, it’s okay,’ he mouthed, soothingly. ‘I’m here.’
He felt like a fraud. He’d left her here in the first place and he meant to again.
‘We’ll speak in the morning,’ he mouthed, although it was getting that way now. Totelun had had a long night and needed sleep, as did he. She didn’t understand, so he mimed going to sleep.
He left her in the room and sought out the other bedroom. The roof wasn’t complete, and it was chilly, but he’d set up with Totelun in here.
When Totelun arrived at the house, he caught his arm.
‘She’s fine.’
‘Can I see her?’
‘Leave her be for now. She’s sleeping. Same as we should be. We’ll talk in the morning.’
‘It is morning.’ Totelun gestured at the slowly brightening sky visible through the roof.
‘You’ll be glad of it when you wake up. You need rest. I guarantee the moment your head hits the mattress, you’ll be out.’
For once, Totelun didn’t argue. The two of them had little to arrange and were soon lying down, Naus wishing they had a fire. Wasn’t it always the way? When you wanted a fire you were surrounded by Medusi.
Despite what he’d said to Totelun, Naus couldn’t find sleep as easily himself. Too much was circling in his mind.
‘Totelun, you awake?’
He clearly hadn’t been, but answered, ‘Yes,’ blearily.
‘I have to find answers to our questions before it’s too late. I have to locate the Order’s temple again and find a way inside. Noctiluca is no longer there, most of her strength is now in Theris. I’d be a fool not to try again now. It is probably the only chance I’ll ever get. That place will be full of answers.’
‘But we have to climb Cartracia,’ said Totelun groggily.
‘I’m going to the Temple. Even if that means we go our separate ways for now.’
Totelun sat up, awake now. ‘You're leaving? You get me out of Theris and you're just going to leave? Come with me up Cartracia, to the Floating Islands.’
‘I can't. Come with me to find the Temple of the Order.’
‘I can't, not when I have a chance to get home.’
Naus shrugged. That was it then, they were at an impasse. He never would have guessed it when he went back for Totelun. What was he supposed to say? He felt awful. But there was no other way. He had to go now, while the Temple was mostly vacant. And it seemed Totelun had to go now, else wait for whenever the islands and mountain were to line up again.
‘I can’t believe you’re doing this,’ said Totelun, pushing himself off the bed. ‘You’re wrong. You don’t know you’ll find the answers at the temple. It’s a gamble. You’re leaving on a gamble.’
Naus shook his head like an indulgent grandfather. ‘No more than you are, Totelun. You don’t know that you will make it in time, nor that there is really a link to the Islands up there. You are making a gamble too. It seems we are more alike than is convenient.’
‘Leave then. I don’t care. You’re a terrible friend.’ Totelun barged out of the door and slammed it behind him. Naus could hear him trudging through the long grass outside.
‘I’m doing it for you, you idiot,’ Naus said softly into the empty room.
Chapter Twelve
Totelun
Despite the damp bed, and the cold air, Totelun woke refreshed and revitalized, at least when compared to his time in the prison under the palace, but his stint of rowing through the dark hours of the night before had left the muscles in his arms screaming.
And him in a foul mood.
He turned over to complain and found Naus gone.
Totelun rushed through what was left of the burnt out farmstead buildings, disturbing dust and vermin. He barged in on Cassandra, found her huddled in a mound of blankets, but Naus wasn’t with her.
‘Naus,’ he called into the empty building. No reply, and Naus wasn’t the one who was deaf.
He raced outside, fearing the worst. Naus was nowhere to be seen; not in the crumbling outbuildings, not in the shell of a barn like the ribs of a monstrous carcass, not in the picket fenced fields with the charcoal corpses of what must have once been pigs. He wasn’t even down by the tiny dock.
And neither was the boat.
It was on the far side of the river.
Totelun used his piton daggers to climb the rickety skeleton that remained of one side of the adjoining barn; the highest point available. The structure, or what was left of it, yawed under his weight, but it would hold for the moment. He perched at the very top on a beam that had been half cooked and scanned the horizon on the far bank from left to right. The sun was up and he figured it was closing on noon, but there were clouds everywhere and down on the surface world that cut the light down considerably. He had trouble telling the time of day here.
He could see Medusi; swarms of them, like the land was dusted in blue fireflies, floating through the long grass. Then he saw it, a mile maybe three into the East, what looked like a dark figure, breaking a trail t
hrough the sward. He was the size of an ant from here and there was no calling to him, he’d just as well announce himself to the Medusi. They didn’t hunt by sound as much as smell and instinct, but they weren’t deaf either.
Naus was gone.
‘Bastard,’ he muttered to himself. ‘Fucking selfish bastard.’
So that’s it, is it? Save him from Theris and Noctiluca and her Clerics, only to abandon him first chance he got. Did I offend him, disappoint him somehow? Did he not want me along in the first place? How was this going to help either of them? Now he’s alone and I’m…what?
He heard a sharp knock on wood and looked down from his perch.
Cassandra stood below him, his goggles on her head, hand on her brow, staring up at him. I’m with her? Somehow that worried him even more. Totelun slid from the beam, his knife scoring the wood as he dropped and landed beside her.
She was still as breathtakingly beautiful as when he’d first seen her. Long red hair with a silvery glow in the morning light, her grey skin looked healthier now than the pallid white it had seemed in the tunnels of the palace. He remembered helping her to escape, giving her the goggles when she had complained through her sister that her eyes hurt. His old goggles cut out lots of light and glare as well as spray; they were made for flying Thunwings through the Cloudsea. He remembered handing her over to Naus and watching them flee into the tunnel network while he bought them time.
A little Medusi hung above her head, almost cute when attached to her. It looked healthier too, not the deflated bag it had seemed before.
She’s had a few weeks out of a coma, rather than a few minutes. No wonder she looks better, he thought.
Cassandra spread her hands, as if to say, what were you doing?
‘Looking for Naus,’ he said before he remembered she couldn’t hear him. He mouthed it back to her slowly, accentuating each syllable, but she squinted at his lips as she tried to read them and then grimaced. She shook her head. Totelun watched as she gestured with one hand, cupping her chin and miming like she was stroking a long beard.
‘Naus?’ he said. She grinned and nodded her head quickly, then gave that shrug again, and looked around. ‘Where is Naus?’ Totelun guessed. It was like a game.
A game that was tiresome already.
He pointed East. ‘He’s gone,’ he said, clearly. She frowned at him. ‘What?’ She probably thinks it’s my fault. And wasn’t it? Naus had called him stubborn enough times, but he had never actually walked out on their partnership. He sighed. He felt guilty that Naus had punished her too, by assuming she would stay with him.
How am I supposed to communicate with this girl? How do you maintain an entirely one-sided conversation? Just working out that she was asking where Naus was had taken far too long and it was bloody obvious now he thought about it? What else would she have asked?
Aurelia had shared some kind of telepathic bond with her sister, he remembered. But Aurelia was long gone. They can probably talk to each other with no trouble whatsoever, and here I am right in front of her and unable to guess simple sentences.
Totelun stomped away from her, back into the hovel she’d lived in these past weeks. The Islands wouldn’t wait, the mountain wouldn’t wait. He’d just have to work it out on the way. Without Naus it was up to him. He roamed from room to room, Cassandra never far behind, gathering every blanket and piece of fabric he could find, throwing them on the bed. Out of the largest one he made a sling-like bag and threw everything else inside. He gave a few to Cassandra, gestured she pull them over her shoulders. She got the idea without issue.
He pulled together what was left of the meagre food and found the fine bow he’d picked up from the Theris armoury propped against the bedroom wall, which was a boon. He remembered handing it over to Naus with Cassandra and strung it over his back. He found sewing instruments, needles and thread, a blade-sharpening stone. He found skinning tools and shears in the barn, though they were rusty.
Everything went in the bag and what he couldn’t find he’d have to make.
Once he’d gathered it all, he left the hovel and walked straight into Cassandra. She was silent as a cat as well as deaf, but that was to her credit. She had packed a small bag too, a scant few things she couldn’t leave behind. Looking at her, he realised that under the blankets, she wore little more than a nightdress. His first job would be making her some trousers and appropriate clothes.
At least she had a pair of good boots.
After he’d stared for a moment too long, he received her famous shrug again.
‘We’re leaving,’ he said, louder than necessary in the morning silence.
He struck out north, sighting the mountain ahead of him. He could see miles and miles ahead of them, forests and some marshland, and that was before they even started on the climb. Cassandra caught up with him, running in front and held out her hand. He stopped. She pointed East. Totelun was able to guess this one. ‘Why aren’t we following Naus?’ he said, more for his own benefit. He shook his head. ‘Because he’s gone the wrong way.’ He tried to make his lip movement clear as he answered his own question. ‘We’re going up there.’ He pointed emphatically at the top of Cartracia.
*
For the first few hours they travelled through the Theris basin without much incident. Totelun steered clear of large gatherings of Medusi, generally keeping on a northern heading.
It was hard to get lost to begin with; open sky on all sides and a landscape of rolling hillocks, high grasses and waving crops like maize and wheat that Totelun supposed used to feed Theris and the surrounding towns. The mountain stood sentinel above them, the most dominant feature of the landscape in any direction. Just keep heading towards that, thought Totelun, and it would be hard to go wrong. They’d eat up the miles and be there before they knew it.
Another feature was the river coursing inexorably past them going south towards Theris. While he lamented Naus taking the boat, the course of the river frequently took it underground, only for it to appear again a mile on. He wouldn’t have wanted to fight the current only to brave a cave system that he wasn’t sure had the space to allow a boat through. And also, caves.
He shuddered. Some of my least favourite memories happened in caves.
They passed through a small riverside village and though it wasn’t quite as much of a burnt-out wreck as the one Cassandra had lived in, it was abandoned. A quaint red painted windmill turned lazily in the breeze, creaking quietly overhead. When they ventured inside and found no one around, Totelun stole as much ground flour as he could carry. The same mill furnished them with salt and sugar, enough to make a simple flatbread if he added a little fresh river water. As they were leaving, he heard a soft lonely clucking noise, and when he found the emaciated chicken, he broke its neck immediately to much protestation from Cassandra. She scowled and brandished her finger at him and then marched off.
Did she expect me to set it free? he thought. Keep it as a pet maybe? She’ll change her tune when she smells cooked chicken in a few night’s time.
After the village, they entered a forest that seemed to stretch on for days, making navigation more difficult and the journey monotonous. He couldn’t use the mountain to keep his bearings unless he kept climbing trees every hour, and while this was fun to begin with, he felt it was slowing them down. The forest was dense with foliage in a beautiful array of autumn colours, spiky red leaves littered the floor and created a mushy plane to walk on. In a month or so, the trees would have been gnarled claws reaching up into the sky like grasping hands, and he could have seen through their naked branches. The river lurched underground again, and except for a distant rushing sound it was beyond his ability to follow.
In his experience forests were places to get turned around. They had been the favourite haunt of Medusi during his travels with Naus, and they could hide even more dangerous creatures. Naus had told him of a fair few violent species of Medusi that existed.
There could also be Trelki and though he had no
idea if they existed on the surface world, that didn’t mean he wasn’t wary of them.
Come to think of it though, it was possible he was immune, and if it worked by sound rather than directly into your mind, Cassandra was immune too.
He fashioned a quite terrible arrow from a stick as they walked – he would do a better job later – and hardly had time to string and loose it when he saw a large squirrel dart from one tree to another. He got it through the eye and crooked arrow or not, the squirrel was dead when it spun to the ground.
Cassandra gave him as hard a time for that as she had for the skinny chicken, almost growling at him. Totelun had no idea what was wrong, but as he strung the squirrel onto his growing packs, he found he was already getting pretty tired of not being able to speak to her.
He wanted to communicate, even if all he would get was told off.
Naus had always thought him a sullen and untalkative youth, happy to walk in silence for almost four days at one point early in their travels.
Stop thinking about Naus, he chided himself. The bastard left us.
But when he couldn’t talk, he found it was all he wanted to do.
It was frustrating. Cassandra was a beautiful girl, small elfin face so similar to Aurelia’s and yet so different. He felt nothing for Aurelia; that bubble had burst like a flaming airship when he met the haughty Empress. But her sister. Cassandra’s hair burned like the reds and yellows of the autumn forest, reminding him of the great warrior women of the Islands. Her blue eyes were like moonlight on water, and even though she wore his goggles so she could see in the late afternoon sun, they did nothing to detract from her.
‘Can you hear anything I say?’ he said abruptly.
Cassandra, trudging along just in front, made no indication she had heard.
‘Anything at all? Hello?’
Embrace of the Medusi (The Overlords Trilogy Book 2) Page 18