The Sorrow of the Waters (Kalika Magic Book 3)

by Karen Hughes

  ‘Sofia,’ he had whispered, and Nima had gasped and looked at him in wide-eyed horror, saying, ‘You can feel her too,’ as the guards clapped the chains on his arms and legs, pushed him to the ground, and forced him to crawl into the marble room.

  That was three days ago, and he’d been sleeping in a corner at the emperor’s beck and call ever since. The emperor had rubbed his hands in delight when he saw him.

  ‘The boy prince!’ he had cried. ‘What luck!’

  But now he seemed bored and petulant, demanding Kai rub his feet and adjust his blanket and pick his teeth, all the while muttering, ‘How long must this go on? I’m the emperor, for goodness sake, not some peasant to be ordered about,’ and ‘What does she want from me?’ and ‘If I’d known it would be like this, I would never have agreed.’

  The guard unlocked the chain from Kai’s throat, and pushed him and Nima from the room. Kai staggered. He’d been crawling for three days, and standing upright made him dizzy. The guard growled at him, grabbed his shoulder with a beefy hand, and held him steady.

  ‘Better smarten up, boy,’ he said. ‘The emperor is tired of you. He’s sending you to the kitchens.’

  When they were alone in the kitchen scullery, with a pile of greasy dishes to wash and only the young kitchen boy to keep them company, Nima said to Kai, ‘Why haven't we seen her yet?’

  They both knew who she meant. Sofia was definitely at the palace. She was using the emperor the way she had used her general, Tenzel. She was regaining her strength, building her power. She would use the emperor to have her revenge on Ballyndor, and then she would destroy him and Moto as well.

  ‘Do you think we could be wrong about her?’ Nima said, in a small voice. ‘Maybe it’s the magic, and not her at all. Maybe we can help her like we helped my father.’

  ‘The shaman isn’t like Sofia,’ said Kai. ‘He did those things because he was in love with her. He knew there was a price to pay, and he paid it as an old blind man with no power.’

  He took a deep breath. He could see his words were hurting Nima, but she had to know the truth.

  ‘Grandma Helki said that every time Sofia used the magic to do something bad, she lost a part of herself. Don’t you see? She is lost. It’s not even her any more. She is nukpana … evil. She’s not your mother.’

  ‘But you should have seen her!’ cried Nima. ‘She was so dirty and sad, living on that horrible island. Maybe she has paid the price too.’

  Kai looked at his cousin. Her eyes were filled with tears, and she held out her hands, beseeching him to agree with her. Kai knew she didn’t believe what she was saying. She’d told him how the crystal had remained a deep red, how Sofia had attacked the shaman and left him bleeding. If anything, Sofia had become more terrible since her time on the island.

  ‘I’m afraid of her,’ said Nima, ‘but you’re wrong. She is still my mother.’

  Kai could feel Nima’s sadness, and it made him sad too. He put his arm around her shoulder in an awkward hug. There was nothing to say.

  Behind them, the kitchen boy sniggered. ‘You two better stop talking and help me with the dishes,’ he said.

  Kai turned to see the boy holding out a greasy cloth. He was a scrawny imp, no more than nine years old, with messy orange hair and a smattering of brown freckles on his nose. He looked Kai up and down.

  ‘You should be in the dungeons,’ he said. ‘You’re not from here.’

  ‘We’re from Ballyndor,’ said Kai. ‘We’ve come to help you in the kitchen.’

  The boy’s eyes narrowed. ‘We don’t let people from Ballyndor work in the palace. We hate people from Ballyndor.’

  ‘How can you hate us?’ asked Nima, looking surprised. ‘You don’t even know us.’

  ‘Because you have ugly skin,’ said the boy. ‘And you fought against our emperor.’

  Kai looked down at his brown arms. He couldn’t believe someone would hate him because his skin was a different colour. ‘My skin is the same colour as your freckles,’ he said.

  The boy looked puzzled. He touched his nose, as if he hadn’t thought about that before. ‘Well ... well, your hair is too curly,’ he said, stuttering.

  ‘And your hair is too red,’ said Kai, ‘but it’s the same colour as my sister’s hair, so I forgive you.’

  Nima took the cloth the boy was holding, and looked at the mountain of plates piled in a dish of water on the floor. The water was slimy and grey. The plates were crusted with food scraps.

  ‘Are you going to help me with this?’ she asked the boy.

  The boy was staring at Kai, his mouth opening and shutting, as if he was searching for something horrible to say. Instead, he stomped his foot on the ground and stormed out of the room. Nima and Kai watched him go. Kai began to laugh, but Nima only looked sad.

  ‘So much hate,’ she said.

  ‘He doesn’t know any better,’ said Kai. ‘He’s probably been told his whole life that people from Ballyndor are ugly and bad. He believes it, because he doesn’t know any different.’

  By the time they finished washing the dishes, it was late and the scullery was filled with shadows. The cooks and kitchen workers had all gone home. Kai and Nima shivered in their thin robes, wrapping their arms across their chests and pacing back and forth to keep warm. There was no fire in the scullery. It was a small stone room with one tiny window, which the cold breeze whistled through.

  At last the boy returned. He carried a straw mat under his arm and a ragged blanket. ‘You have to sleep in here,’ he said.

  ‘But it’s freezing,’ said Kai.

  ‘Yes,’ said the boy, grinning. He threw the mat and the blanket in the corner, and turned to leave.

  ‘Wait.’ Nima held her hand out to him. ‘We haven’t had anything to eat.’

  ‘I don’t care,’ said the boy. ‘I don’t like you.’

  ‘You can’t let us starve,’ said Kai.

  ‘Yes, I can,’ the boy said simply. He walked out of the scullery, locking the door behind him.

  Kai sank down on the mat. ‘That boy is nukpana, too,’ he said.

  ‘There is something creepy about him,’ said Nima, sinking down beside him and pulling the blanket over her legs. ‘Something not quite right.’

  They were both quiet, thinking, and then Nima said, ‘He reminds me of Mugadi.’

  ‘Jabar’s father?’ asked Kai. ‘How?’

  ‘Mugadi’s power animal was the grey wolf, right?’

  ‘Yes, but how – ’

  ‘The grey wolf is strong and loyal and protective, but if it shows only its shadow side, it is cruel and uncaring. Mugadi was walking with the shadow wolf, so he couldn't see the world any other way.’

  Kai stared at her. ‘You mean that boy is walking with his shadow animal?’

  ‘Yes. I think he has lost his power animal. He only has the shadow, so he only sees the dark side of the world. Don’t you see? How else could he hate someone just because their skin is a different colour?’

  That night Nima slept fitfully, tossing and turning on the straw mat, scratching at the bugs that crawled across her arms and legs. As the first light of dawn crept through the tiny window, she sat bolt upright. There was something in the corner of the room, dancing in the shadows. It was an ugly little creature, small and dark, with the face and body of a monkey.

  Nima watched in horror as the creature danced a frenetic dance. Its arms flailed up and down. Its scrawny, twisted legs kicked out to the side. Its head bobbled back and forth on its thin neck. And all the while it leered at her, opening its mouth to reveal a set of pointy white teeth that looked as sharp as razors.

  Kai stirred beside her. She grabbed his arm, shaking him.

  ‘Wake up,’ she hissed.

  For a split second, she turned to see if he was awake. When she looked back, the creature was gone.

  There was a rattle of keys at the door. The boy came in, his face clean and his hair brushed. ‘Time to get up,’ he said. He walked across the room and kicked
at the blankets.

  ‘Ouch,’ said Kai. ‘I’m awake! You don’t have to kick me.’

  ‘But I like kicking you,’ said the boy. He gave Kai’s leg another vicious kick. ‘Get up. You have to help me scrub the kitchen floor.’

  Kai dragged himself up from the mat. Nima was already standing. She walked over to the corner and pressed her hands against the stone wall. When she took them away, they were black with dust. She sighed and wiped them on her clothes, leaving smears all down the front of her robe.

  ‘Is there somewhere we could wash?’ she asked the boy.

  The boy shook his head. ‘You’ll just get dirty again.’

  ‘What about food?’ asked Kai.

  ‘And water?’ added Nima, licking her parched lips.

  The boy said nothing, but he turned and left the room. He came back with a tray laden with a strange spiky fruit and two cups of water.

  The fruit was surprisingly good. Kai and Nima tore it open with their teeth and sucked at the sweet juice inside the purple flesh.

  Nima was just about to take a second piece when she noticed the boy’s face. He was watching her intently. Slowly, she put the fruit down. Her mouth and the tips of her fingers were tingling. Her tongue felt swollen and raw. She looked at Kai, who was gulping down his cup of water. When she tried to speak to him, to ask him what was happening, she found she couldn’t shape the words.

  The boy gave a shriek of laughter. ‘Ha! You ate it!’ he cried.

  There was the heavy tread of shoes outside the scullery door. The door opened to reveal a girl about their age, thirteen or fourteen, with long orange hair and freckles. She looked just like the boy.

  ‘Willem!’ she gasped, looking at the purple rinds on the plate. ‘What are you doing?’

  She grabbed him by the ear and pulled him out of the room. In a short while, she returned with two bowls of creamy white custard. ‘Here,’ she said. ‘Eat this. It will help.’

  Nima picked up her bowl. She tested the custard with the tip of her finger. It was cool and delicious, and it made her tongue stop stinging. Kai was already scooping his into his mouth.

  They ate in silence, grateful for the soft, soothing taste of the custard. Grateful, too, that the boy – with his sniggering and his kicking and his spiky fruit – was gone. When they had finished and they could speak again, Nima thanked the girl.

  ‘He shouldn’t have given it to you,’ the girl said, gesturing at the plate. ‘He’s so nasty. I don't know why. He never used to be like this.’

  ‘What kind of fruit is it?’ mumbled Kai. He was still having trouble with his tongue.

  ‘Fire fruit,’ said the girl. ‘They boil it up for medicine. It’s really good for you, but you can’t eat it raw.’

  ‘We know that now,’ said Nima, feeling a last sizzle of pain as she spoke.

  ‘I’m sorry about my brother,’ said the girl. ‘He’s a little brat lately.’

  Nima thought about the monkey figure dancing in the shadows, leering at her on its twisted legs. She was sure it had some connection with the boy.

  They spent the whole day on their hands and knees, scrubbing the kitchen floor. It was cold stone, and so filthy that Nima was sure it had never been scrubbed before. She didn’t mind the work – the boy hadn’t come back and the girl was pleasant company. The girl said her name was Tina. She lived in one of the terrace houses behind the palace with Willem and their mother, who was one of the women who looked after the emperor’s wives.

  ‘The wives are so unhappy,’ said Tina. ‘They’re always crying. All they want is to go home to their families, but the emperor won’t let them leave the palace, not even for a visit.’

  ‘They probably wouldn’t come back,’ said Kai. He was plunging an old rag into a bucket of grey water, wringing it out, and smearing it across the dirty floor. The patches he had scrubbed looked worse than those he hadn’t.

  Tina frowned. ‘I think you’d better wash the potatoes instead,’ she said, taking the cloth from his hand.

  While Kai washed the potatoes, Tina spoke about the emperor’s wives.

  ‘He’s so cruel to them. When the children are born, he takes them away. There’s a school here at the palace for the boys, but the girls …’ she lowered her voice. ‘He used to send the girls to the dungeons, but since the Lady came things are different. Now they just disappear.’

  Nima stared at her. ‘This Lady,’ she said. ‘What does she look like?’

  ‘She’s tall and thin,’ said Tina, squinting, as if she was looking at a picture in her head. ‘Quite pretty. She wears square black spectacles, and her eyes are really blue. Her skin is dark like yours, and her hair …’ Her voice trailed away, and she stared at Nima, as if she hadn’t really seen her before. ‘She looks just like you.’ She glanced at Kai. ‘And him. Is he your brother?’

  ‘No, my cousin,’ said Nima.

  ‘And the Lady …’ Tina’s eyes widened. ‘She must be Kalika, like you. Do you know her?’

  ‘Not really,’ said Nima. She looked away, her voice filled with sadness. ‘But I know she is Kalika.’

  ‘Then how can she be at our palace? The emperor sends Kalika people to the dungeons. He hates them.’

  ‘She’s not like other Kalika people,’ said Kai. He was crouched on the floor in the corner with his arms deep in a bowl of murky water. Three spotless potatoes lay on a dish in front of him. Hundreds of muddy potatoes sat in a pile at his elbow. He looked at the muddy pile and sighed.

  For a moment he was silent, then he said, ‘Maybe Luce was right.’

  ‘Who?’ asked Nima.

  ‘Luce. The girl who helped us at Sampa Cove.’

  Tina looked at him with wide eyes. ‘Luce? The same Luce whose mother, Opalina, owns the Tiger’s Eye?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Kai, surprised. ‘Do you know her?’

  ‘She’s my cousin,’ said Tina, with a grin.

  Kai smiled at her. Of course! Luce had told him she had a cousin called Tina who worked in the palace kitchen.

  Tina’s face relaxed. She crouched beside him and picked up a potato. ‘The Lady is building some kind of factory,’ she said. ‘It’s supposed to be a secret, but I’ve seen it.’

  Kai frowned. ‘I wonder if she’s making potions, again,’ he muttered.

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Nima.

  ‘She did this before, in Ballyndor. She burned the forest, and dumped the waste from the factory into the water. She was going to transform the land with tall towers and great roads, but she didn’t care what she destroyed to do it.’

  Nima sat back on her heels and looked at him. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? I knew she’d poisoned you with berries, and locked away the king and queen, but I thought that was because she wanted to rule Ballyndor. I didn’t know she wanted to destroy it.’

  ‘Indie says she’s only interested in science. She doesn’t understand earth magic, even though she tries to use it.’

  ‘But science is just another way of studying earth magic,’ said Nima. ‘If there are no trees or forest or water, there can be no science.’

  Kai sloshed another potato under the water. ‘And no magic,’ he said, scrubbing furiously.

  Chapter 22

  Shadow Monkey

  True to her word, Ama led Jabar and Indie to a deep pool in the gardens. They stepped into the water and emerged, completely dry, from the stream in the palace grounds. She had warned them about the guards, so they ran straight to the thicket of rose bushes that lined the garden wall and squeezed in behind the thorns, waiting for night to fall.

  Hidden by the darkness, they made their way to the secret door Ama had told them about.

  ‘You’re doing it wrong,’ hissed Indie, as Jabar fiddled with the handle. ‘Here, let me try.’

  Jabar frowned, but he stepped back while Indie pulled and tugged at the handle. It was no use. The door was locked.

  ‘Now what?’ said Indie, slumping against the heavy wood. ‘Why does she keep doing this? Why send us
here if the door won’t open?’

  Jabar sighed. He rattled the handle again. ‘I don’t think these spirits know as much as they think they do.’

  ‘But Kaosha is always right,’ said Indie.

  ‘He’s a tree spirit. Water spirits must be different,’ said Jabar. ‘Ama said they work on feelings. Maybe they don't think so much.’

  Indie looked thoughtful. 'Or maybe they don't think about things like doors and locks because they don't need to.'

  'What do you mean?'

  ‘Water flows,’ she said slowly. ‘It isn’t fixed. It goes around. It seeps through. It wears things down.’

  She looked closely at the door. There had to be another way. She ran her hand over the wood, tried the handle again. Nothing.

  What would water do? She walked around the wall, trailing her fingers along the stone, dipping them into every crack and crevice.

  ‘It’s no use,’ said Jabar. He was pulling on the handle, hammering on the wood.

  ‘Shh,’ said Indie. ‘Someone will hear you.’

  The moon was high in the sky, and the garden was alive with the soft sounds of the night. It was so peaceful. Indie concentrated on the distant sound of the sea, the crash and tumble of the waves against the sand. Water was strong, it was powerful, it could erode mountains. She leaned into that feeling, exploring the wall with her fingers.

  And then it happened. A loose rock fell from the wall. She reached into the mossy space behind it and pulled out a silver key.

  ‘Ha!’ she said. ‘Water keeps going. It’s patient and sure. It never gives up.’

  Jabar rolled his eyes. ‘Ama could have told us where the key was,’ he said.

  ‘Well, she didn’t, and it doesn’t matter now. Come on. Let’s see what’s inside.’