The cart bumped and rattled violently. Princess Ona sat hunched in the back, bracing herself against the rough wooden slats to either side of her. Her arms ached and her back was sore. She wanted to cry out, but remembered what the demon had told her as it had thrown her into the cart: If you scream, I’ll kill you.
Ona shivered at the memory of that voice. One second it had sounded like Captain Niels, the leader of her father’s personal guard; the next, the demon had dropped its act and become the heartless creature it truly was. And that creature was behind her now, driving this stinking, rickety cart away from Meridar … taking her toward who knew what.
As the cart hit a solid bump in the road, Ona flinched and prepared herself to try another escape. She slid toward the back of the cart and held tight to the walls. Then, in time with the next loud thud of the cartwheels she kicked out at the door.
She kicked, again and again, timing her strikes so they couldn’t be heard. But it was no use. It turned out that this was no normal grocer’s cart. The door had clanked ominously when the demon had closed her in, suggesting that it had been cleverly reinforced. Her abduction had been well planned – she was certain of that. And the shape-shifting spy up front wasn’t about to let her escape by kicking the door down.
Ona sank back on to the floor. Her shoes were scuffed horribly, with the silver thread hanging loose in several places. Her tights were ripped, too, snagged on the splintery wooden floor. She shook her head, realizing how ridiculous it was to be worried about the state of her clothes at a time like this. But the whole situation was so unexpected and so awful that she just didn’t know what to think.
All she could do was trust in Dawn and Captain Valderin to come after her. By now, they must know she was missing, she thought. And Dawn was a Whisperer – they could do such amazing things, so surely she could find her out here on the back roads…
The earthstone bounced on its chain around Ona’s neck, along with the other stones of her favourite necklace. Now she knew what the demons had been after, she felt foolish. All the trouble they had taken to catch the Narlaw spies in the palace and this stone had been hanging from her neck all along. If she’d known she would have handed it over to Dawn right away.
At least she knew one thing about the earthstone – the demon couldn’t touch it. Otherwise the Narlaw would have just torn the necklace from her throat. But it had flinched away when it came close to her. She could tell how much it hurt the creature to pick her up and throw her into the cart.
The trouble was that if the earthstone was here with her, it left the rest of Meridina unprotected. Queen Amina had used the earthstone to defeat the Narlaw and now Dawn needed it.
Ona peered down at the cloud-grey jewel. Would Dawn and the other Whisperers be able to fight the Narlaw without it? While she was stuck in this cart, rattling further and further from home, the kingdom was being destroyed around her. She had to escape.
Ona listened to the world beyond the cart as she travelled.
To begin with there were many sounds – voices, carts creaking and the clop of horses’ hooves. She knew the other people on the road were heading to Meridar for safety. If they had only known that their princess was passing right by them! More than once, Ona thought about calling out. If all the people around the cart teamed together, perhaps they could overpower the demon? But she knew it was likely these people would be hurt, and her, too. So she stayed silent, she listened and she held on to the earthstone at her chest.
A long time passed before the roads around them became quiet. Ona could just make out the swish of trees and the babble of a nearby river. She pressed her face against the slats of the cart wall and peered through one of the tiny gaps. It was pointless. She could see virtually nothing, and anyway, she wouldn’t recognize where they were. Thanks to her father’s obsession with safety, Ona had never set foot beyond the palace walls. She had always dreamed of exploring the rolling countryside beyond the city. From her balcony high up in the palace, the hills and forests had looked beautiful and inviting – so different to her own rigid world of stone towers and formal gardens. Eventually Ona had given up asking the king for permission to venture out.
Clattering along in the back of the grocer’s cart, Ona felt sad and angry that her first trip outside had come about through such terrible circumstances.
Suddenly the cart turned off the road and rolled slowly on to some kind of steep path. Ona scrambled to stay upright as the floor sloped beneath her. She slid and felt her dress catch on a splinter of wood. Then the cart creaked to a standstill and all she could hear were the trees and the river.
She risked a look through the gap between the slats and pulled back as a tall shadow swept across her vision. Her heart beat ferociously. Was it coming for her? She held the earthstone out in front of her and squatted, ready to act when the doors opened. There wasn’t really enough room to spring out at the demon, but she could try.
The doors stayed firmly shut.
Ona waited, breathing deeply in an attempt to calm her nerves.
A rhythmic scraping noise started up, then something brushing against the outside of the cart. Ona smelled paint and realized what the demon was doing: it was repainting the cart – disguising it, so that anyone who had seen them leave Meridar would no longer recognize it.
How would anyone find her now? She began to panic and would have screamed if she thought there was anyone nearby, but what would be the use?
She had to figure out where she was. She had to get someone’s attention.
And then she knew what she had to do.
Ona sat back down, still clutching the earthstone, but forcing calm into her mind. Calm and focus. She had to think. She had to do this right.
Soon, the demon climbed back into the cab and pointed the cart horse back toward the road. When Ona felt them rise back out of the woods she pressed her eye to the gap between the slats of the cart and waited for a sign of habitation.
Only when she saw a well, then a short row of cottages, did she begin.
She untied the blue silk sash of her dress from around her waist. It had been a birthday gift from her father, made especially for her, and her first initial was stitched on it beneath the royal insignia. It smelled sweetly of her favourite perfume.
Ona plucked a hairpin from its place and with the pin she pushed her sash through one of the narrow gaps between the slats. It seemed to take forever, and she glanced anxiously toward the cab, thinking her abductor would spot what she was doing any second.
But finally the last corner of the sash slid through the gap and dropped away from her.
Ona peered out and saw a streak of beautiful sky-blue silk in the centre of the muddy track. Her heart thumped. She saw a squat barn and another cottage set back from the road and hoped they were not empty – that there was someone on this lonely road who would receive her silent cry for help.
Mika slept badly on her eighth and final night in hiding. She lay awake with anxious thoughts circling her mind and, when she finally drifted into sleep, her dreams were awash with fear and darkness.
Star woke her in the morning. It was a favourite habit of Star’s, pressing her wet nose against Mika’s cheek until Mika opened her eyes. Usually it was done in the name of mischief or boredom, but today Mika woke to find she had overslept. The lanterns were already alight and Guran’s militia moved purposefully about the basement. Their leather armour creaked and the scrape of blades being sharpened cut through the air like jags of lightning.
How could you sleep through this? asked Star. She paced up and down beside Mika’s bed.
I’m not sure you could call it sleeping, said Mika. I’m more tired than I was before.
She rose with a nervous feeling in her stomach. She hadn’t travelled beyond the highlands before, nor was she a fighter like Zabeh or Guran.
I should pack, she said, glancing down at her rumpled bedroll and few possessions.
Mika felt suddenly ashamed at her days of inaction. P
art of the reason she’d stayed was Astor – she just hadn’t been able to bring herself to abandon her mentor. But she had also fooled herself into thinking that hiding was the only option. She had let her fear get the better of her.
Not any more, though. It was time to answer the call to Meridar.
She rolled her bedding tight enough to carry and stuffed her few spare clothes into the pack she had scavenged several days ago. On top of her clothes she laid the remains of a jasmine candle and the two small bundles of food she had been rationed – rice cakes, and pickled radish and ginger, all wrapped together in cloth. She had nothing from her home and she knew she couldn’t go back. The rooms she shared with Astor were too close to the centre of Rakeen, where most of the Narlaw had gathered.
Next, Mika donned her thick, hooded coat. She hefted her pack and ducked her head through the single strap so that it lay diagonally across her chest. She was ready to go.
Zabeh approached from across the room. She nodded to Mika and pulled a long, slim object from her pocket. “Here,” she said. “You’ll need it.”
Mika looked at the knife and shook her head. “I don’t carry weapons. You know that.”
Zabeh’s smile was good-natured, but edged with impatience. This was not the first time the conversation had taken place between them. Mika understood her friend’s concern, but she had sworn never to commit violence.
“Come on,” said Zabeh. “Just for once, be ready to defend yourself. Who knows what trouble we might find on the road?”
Mika slipped her hands into her pockets in a final gesture of refusal. She felt a flicker of anger. Her friend obviously still thought she couldn’t look after herself.
“We have different ways of protecting ourselves,” said Mika. “A knife would be no use to me.”
Zabeh nodded and Mika watched her reluctantly pocket the weapon. It was clear that Zabeh still wasn’t confident in Mika’s banishing abilities. Mika thought about all the times Zabeh had stood up for her and protected her when they were younger. And she thought about how she had failed to protect Zabeh when the Narlaw had attacked her in the merchant’s garden. Perhaps Zabeh was right. Perhaps she couldn’t be trusted to look after herself, let alone her friends.
Astor stepped into the room with Suri by her side and all eyes turned toward the elderly Whisperer and her companion. Mika was glad of the distraction.
Guran gave a respectful nod. “Are you ready?” he asked.
“Yes,” Astor said, though she leaned on Suri’s back for support. “May the four winds carry you safely.”
“Thank you. Travel well, and give our regards to Meridar and the king.”
The militia warriors filed upstairs, their weapons sheathed and their movements near-silent. At Guran’s suggestion, they were to draw the Narlaw away, down into the centre of Rakeen and then east so that Mika, Astor and Zabeh could slip away into the western hills. Guran had spoken of escaping with his warriors into the eastern mountains then down on to the plains of central Meridina, but they knew this was almost impossible. There were simply too many Narlaw in the city.
Mika watched the last of the warriors file out of the cellar. She had to succeed in her mission so that the warriors’ incredible bravery wasn’t wasted.
“Now it’s our turn,” said Astor. “I fear I may be too slow to keep pace. Promise me – Mika, Zabeh – if we fall into danger, leave me. You must reach the palace. The kingdom depends on it.”
“It won’t come to that,” said Mika as she followed Astor and Suri up the short stone staircase.
Star darted past them all to the top. Mika envied her companion’s enthusiasm. It was as if this were simply the beginning of a huge adventure, another chance to explore the city.
Be careful, Mika whispered to her. Don’t go too far ahead.
I’m not going to leave you behind, said Star.
That’s not what I’m worried about. You know how many demons are out there. Please, just stay close.
Star turned to wait for her. I’ve been down every back street in Rakeen, she said. Every garden path and passageway. I’ll get us out of the city safely, I promise.
Mika smiled, trying to ignore her own anxiety. I know you will, she said.
Star flicked her tail playfully against Mika’s leg, then she slipped through the cellar door in a flash of white.
Mika cast her senses through the house above, feeling for the slightest hint of danger. She was precise, focused and determined. Since her breaking of the ghost-sleep it was as if her senses had sharpened. This time, Mika promised herself, she would not fail her friends.
The way above was clear and Mika signalled them out into the bright, chill morning. Wind swept down off the mountains, and the trees and plants of the ravaged garden swayed and bent around them.
“We should stay close together,” she said, turning to catch Zabeh’s eye.
Zabeh nodded, scanning the edges of the garden with a grim expression.
Then Star darted out across the garden and they began their escape from Rakeen.
The route was winding and complicated. Star had chosen it for stealth, but also ease of movement – no climbing or crawling that might make life difficult for Astor or Suri. For this reason, their progress was slow.
Almost as soon as they left the garden they were forced to stop. Mika sensed something wrong and held her hand up in a fist. She crouched on the cobbled back street, second in line behind Star, with Zabeh guarding the rear.
Mika extended her senses cautiously. In a house at the end of the alley were a pair of demons. She could feel them, unmoving, inside the modest, wood-framed dwelling. Their presence was like a foul taste in her mouth and their terrible stillness made her tremble.
Should we change course? asked Star.
Mika crouched for a moment longer, observing the demons, forcing herself to ignore the growing discomfort in her belly.
No, she said at last. I’ve seen this before. We can pass by.
Whatever the Narlaw’s equivalent of sleep was, this was it. Mika looked up and met Star’s gaze, nodding for her to continue.
Star rose slowly from her own defensive crouch, uncertain. But Mika knew she was right. They moved off again, staying close to the wall at the far edge of the alley. Mika probed her surroundings constantly, watching Star dart and creep ahead of her and keeping track of Astor’s laboured breathing and the clack of Suri’s hooves behind.
For some time they continued in this way, moving gradually from the affluent silk district into the hilly, cramped suburbs of the city’s western fringe. This was where the majority of Rakeen’s people had lived, in terraces of wooden houses, most without any kind of yard or garden. Though it was easier for them to stay hidden in these narrow, shadowed streets, there were also many more places for a demon to hide.
Mika scanned the houses as they passed, checking for hidden demons. They were all empty – of demons, but of people, too. She wondered where all the people were, thinking perhaps that the Narlaw had placed them in the ghost-sleep and carried them off to some holding area, to be stacked like logs for the winter.
Wherever they were, she knew the only way these people might ever return to their homes was if the war against the Narlaw was won. She felt the pressure of the knowledge she carried all over again, along with a spark of pride – but now was not the time for self-congratulation. Not until the last Narlaw was gone from the earth.
Star led them into a tiny courtyard that was shared by five or six small houses. There was a persimmon tree at the centre, its roots bulging through the cobbles and its leafless branches drooping under the weight of the faded orange fruit.
Astor reached out and plucked one, turning it over in her hand.
“Still good,” she said with a rare smile. She bit down on the fruit and winced at its sharpness.
Suri craned her neck to eat one straight off the branch.
As Mika turned to Astor, about to suggest they keep moving, a flash high up at the edge of her visio
n stopped her short.
A flaming arrow arced through the clear blue sky.
Zabeh caught sight of it, too. “The signal,” she said. “The others have reached the centre.”
Mika pictured Guran charging though the streets, his militia warriors behind him, Narlaw rushing out of the buildings. To be smothered in the ghost-sleep or be killed? It seemed as if only those two options could possibly await the warriors.
Mika whispered an entreaty to the earth, a prayer for the soldiers’ safety, but as she did so, her senses reeled. “Hide!” she hissed. “In here!”
She darted through a low doorway into a house she could feel was empty. The others followed and Mika reached out, controlling her fear, as the street outside became alive with Narlaw.
Doors banged and boots pounded on the cobbles in strange, inhuman rhythms. Through a murky window, Mika glimpsed the blur of a man. She felt the demon’s presence and swallowed hard.
“Get down!” hissed Zabeh.
Mika dropped to the bare wooden floor with the others. She reached out for Star, who pressed close to her side.
The battle had commenced. The demons were being drawn to the centre. How had they responded so quickly?
Even now, Mika wondered at the workings of the Narlaw mind. Did they communicate in whispers like she and Star? Or was it something else, some other connection that could cross great distances?
In seconds the stampede was over. Mika felt the air around her settle, as if the neighbourhood itself had breathed a sigh of relief.
“We should go,” she said. “Now.”
No one argued.
Gathering Voices Page 4