Fire Margins

by Lisanne Norman

  “To be with you, Kusac, I had to turn my back on everything I’d been taught, everything I’d been brought up with. It wasn’t easy, but it was what I wanted to do. Humans have very little understanding of me and why I want to be with you, none at all of why I want to have your cubs.” She looked up at him.

  “Our daughter is who we are, neither Sholan nor Human, but both. What we want is worth fighting for, Kusac. Is it the Sholan you that’s concerned, or your perception of my Human side? I asked myself that question. Hell,” she grinned wryly, “I’m sunk already among Humans, no matter what I do! And Sholans don’t care whether I’ve got a lover or not!”

  He leaned forward, caressing her face with his hand. “Cub, the Sholan me feels no jealousy for Kaid, just sadness that he can only touch the edge of what we share. I hope he finds someone who’ll bring to him everything that you’ve brought to me.”

  His hands sought hers as, standing, he pulled her up into his arms.

  “My worry is that we’re forcing this on him,” she said, resting her head against his chest. “That he’ll do this out of loyalty. If he does, I hope I never find out.”

  “I don’t believe he will, though he keeps his mind so tightly closed it’s impossible to tell.” He rubbed his cheek against the top of her head, holding her as close as he could. “It’s no different from the times I’ve shared with Vanna, cub,” he said softly. “We’ve more control over our link now, we know it’s not a problem if the lover is known and liked by both of us. The same will be true with Kaid, you’ll see. Just remember, he’s not like me, he has no Human side to him. What we take for granted, he won’t know, and not being a telepath, he can’t read from you.”

  “I’ll remember.” She looked up at him. “You want me to stay here, don’t you?”

  “You have to. Once this last link is forged, then we can go to the Fire Margins and gain our freedom, as well as finding the answers we need to so many questions. Kaid’s imprisonment has reminded me how fragile all our lives are. Once we’ve been, we’ll have bought the freedom of not only people like us, but untold generations of our children. We have to go there, and soon.”

  “I never saw myself as a seductress,” she murmured. “I wonder how it’s done.”

  Kusac laughed, picking her up and swinging her into his arms. “You don’t have to do anything, cub! Just the fact that you exist was seduction enough for me!” He began to walk indoors with her. “You get some rest,” he said, putting her down on the spare bed they’d placed in Noni’s bedroom for her. “Don’t forget, while Noni’s got the damper on, I can’ reach you, you’ll have to come outside. Dzaka can bring you home tomorrow evening.”

  “Are you sure you’ll be all right?”

  “Sure. I’ve plenty of work to do on the data Esken brought the other day, and I want to see what Ghyan’s made of it.”

  She clung to him for a moment. “Take care,” she said before kissing him.

  “Always.”

  *

  Ahead of them, Jo could just see the lights of the town glowing against the darkening sky. They were all tired and cold, none more so than she with the wet hem of her skirt flapping against the short ankle boots she was wearing. A town meant hot water, hot food, dry beds and dry clothes!

  “Almost there,” said Davies.

  Jo grunted, too tired for words. They’d been traveling through this fresh, loose snow now for two days, and she was heartily sick of it. It clung to her boots, making walking more like paddling with all the extra effort it entailed.

  Gradually the lights got nearer until at last they were approaching the arched gateway into the town.

  “What now?” muttered Jo to Kris. “They don’t seem to be stopping anyone.”

  “Brazen it out,” said Kris. “There’s no reason why we shouldn’t be allowed in.”

  To either side of the gate, on the stone wall, large torches flickered. The last of the field workers trudged toward the lights, following in the path of a couple of mounted nobles. They fell in behind the workers, keeping an eye on the guards.

  These worthies suddenly sprang to life and began bellowing at the straggling line of which they were part, telling them to get a move on lest they be shut out for the night.

  “Obviously for the benefit of the riders,” said Davies.

  He was right enough, as when the riders passed beneath the archway, there was much bowing and scraping from the guards.

  They were the last through, and behind them they heard the squeaking and grinding of the ancient mechanism that closed the heavy wooden gates.

  “Strick said to carry on down this main road till we came to the third street on the left,” said Davies. “Then along there till we see the sign for the Silver Tree Inn.”

  “At least they keep their streets clear of snow,” said Jo. She was getting a second wind now that the going was easier.

  On either side of them, grime-covered buildings, packed too closely together for comfort or safety, loomed toward the night sky. The roadway was wider here on the main street, but they still had to dodge not only potholes but piles of noxious garbage thrown down from the dwellings above.

  Kris turned an amused look on her. “This is civilization, Jo,” he said.

  “I know,” she muttered, hopping from one frozen rut to another to avoid a puddle of God-knew-what.

  After the silence of the mountains and the forest, the bustle and color around them was almost too much. Strident voices called out to each other as shops began to close for the night, and the night trade began to come to life. The smell was indescribable, a mixture of stale ale and rotten garbage overlaid with cooking.

  They wound their way through the bustle, finding their side street with little difficulty. This area was quieter and Jo found the tight band of pain that had formed round her head was beginning to ease.

  “I’ll give your neck a rub later,” said Kris, glancing at her as they headed for the building boasting a swinging sign of a silver tree. “You’ve been picking up the mental noise of the town, that’s all.”

  “Never used to bother me before,” she muttered, easing her pack across her shoulders.

  “Just set up your mental blocks so they’re active all the time,” said Kris, taking her by the elbow and steering her toward the brightly lit doorway of the tavern.

  The heat cast by the log fire that blazed in a central open fireplace, was the first real warmth any of them had felt since leaving the Summer Bounty. Jo made straight for it, the other two close behind. She started to open her cloak and unwrap the scarf from round her head and face, reveling in the heat.

  A large, burly man detached himself from the counter at the other side of the room and made his way over to them. He threw what appeared to be a bundle of animal skins on the floor to one side of the grate and began warming his hands at the blaze.

  Kris immediately sensed his interest in them and as he took his cloak off, he kept a wary eye on him.

  “Travelers, are you?” His voice was deep, yet surprisingly quiet.

  Kris nodded, folding his garment and putting it down on the floor at the other side of the fireplace. “Yes. We’ve just come in off the mountains,” he said.

  “You’ll be staying a while, then.”

  “We plan to,” said Davies, cloak over his arm as he turned round to warm his rear.

  “Name’s Railin,” he said, reaching out to snag an empty chair from a nearby table. He set it down it beside Jo, gesturing for her to sit. “You look like your bones could do with plenty of warming,” he said.

  Thanking him, Jo threw her cloak over the back of it, then sank down gratefully onto it and let her body soak up the heat.

  Railin hauled another chair over to the fire, then proceeded to plant his large frame in it. “No one’s going to complain if we sit here awhile,” he said to Kris and Davies.

  Kris fetched a couple more chairs from an unused table which he and Davies put next to Jo’s.

  A tavern girl came bustling up. �
�These friends o’ yours, Railin? Hope you’re all goin’ to order somethin’ worthwhile, or I can’t be lettin’ you sit in front of the fire like this.”

  “Come on, Jainie,” said Railin, “you can see they’s just arrived here. Look at them! Wet through and dead beat! Let them warm themselves a bit.”

  “It’s all right for you to talk! You ain’t got Mippik peerin’ over your shoulder!” she retorted.

  “It’s all right,” said Kris. “We want some food, a room for the night, and four ales.”

  “Get them some of your stew,” said Railin. He looked at Kris. “Don’t ask what it is, just eat it,” he advised.

  “Watch it, or I’ll tell Mippik what you said of his wife’s cookin’,” warned the girl with a grin, happy now that a large order had been placed. “You fetch a table over and I’ll bring the drinks.” With a swirl of her long skirts, she was gone.

  “Is the stew that bad?” asked Jo, a concerned look on her face as she bent down to pull another bit of her skirt hem round to the fireside.

  “Not really.” A grin split the large man’s face, making his teeth flash against his weather beaten complexion.

  He had to be around fifty, Jo reckoned, but it was difficult to judge his age when his face was concealed by the long greying beard and mustache that blended so well with his shoulder length hair. His blue eyes regarded her humorously as he pulled an ancient pipe and an oiled pack of some smokeable herbs out of his pocket.

  Kris and Davies got up and fetched over the table that they’d denuded of chairs. They placed it beside Jo, allowing her to continue sitting beside the fire.

  “You are joining us, aren’t you?” said Kris, as he moved his chair to the other side of the table. “I ordered an ale for you.”

  “Yes, thanks, young man, I will,” he said, rising up slowly from his chair and bringing it over to join them. “What brings you to Kalador? It’s bad weather to be traveling the mountains.”

  “We’re passing through. Our family’s wintering in the lowlands and we’re due to join them before they leave.”

  “Nomads,” he nodded. “Pity you didn’t arrive a day or two earlier. You’d have had a tale or two to tell round the campfires this spring!”

  Jainie returned carrying four tankards which she placed in the middle of the table. “There you go,” she said. “Food’s almost ready. Mippik’ll see to your room when you’ve eaten. We don’t exactly have’em queuing up for one!” she said, indicating the customers of the tavern with an expansive sweep of her arm.

  Kris fished out a handful of coins and held them out to her.

  “Trustin’, ain’t he?” she said to Railin as she picked a few small coppers from his hand. “You told them yet about the happenin’s here the other night?”

  “Just about to,” said Railin, picking up his tankard. “Just about to, Jainie.”

  “Right strange, it was,” she said, putting her hands on her hips and leaning conspiratorially toward them. Her long ginger hair dropped over her shoulder, almost hiding her face as she spoke. “Bright lights in the sky, there were, then this almighty bang! They could have heard it all the way down to the plains, I tell you!”

  “Jainie,” said Railin gently, “you’re spoiling my tale.”

  “Ooh, sorry, I’m sure!” she said, pulling a face at Kris and Davies as she stood up again. “Can’t lose you your living, can I? I mean, ain’t as if you has an honest trade, after all. You’re only the storyteller! Who’d buy your ale if you didn’t tell ’em stories!” She ducked the playful swipe he aimed at her and headed back to the counter.

  “What was all that about?” asked Kris, sipping his ale carefully. He tried not to shudder as the bitter drink slid down his throat. “Bright lights and so on. We saw nothing as we came through the forest.”

  “Don’t you go listening to her,” said Railin, putting his pouch away and reaching forward to pick a small glowing piece of wood from the fire. He proceeded to light his pipe, sending small clouds of aromatic smoke upward to drift briefly over his head. That done, he threw the stick back into the fire.

  “That was months ago. What did happen a couple of days ago was more interesting,” he said, fishing something out of his pocket and handing it to Kris.

  Kris took it from him, turning the small disk over in his hand before handing it back to him. “Strick said we’d meet someone who’d help us,” he said quietly, “but I didn’t expect it to be so soon.”

  “Nor so easy, I’ll be bound,” said Railin, returning it to his pocket.

  “How d’you know it was us?” asked Davies. He took a long swig of his ale, then put the tankard down on the table.

  “Told you. Travelers at this time of year are rare, even allowing for the late thaw.”

  “So what happened?” asked Jo. She’d had a small sip of the ale and decided water might taste better.

  “Well, Jainie was right about the lights and the bang,” said Railin, putting his pipe to one corner of his mouth. He sat back in his chair and folded his hands across his ample gut, obviously getting settled to tell his tale. “But that happened in the deep of winter, when no one could leave the town, the snow was falling so thick. No one wanted to go out at that time of night even if they could. For all we knew it could be demons, or evil beings that live in the heart of the mountains at their dirty work, dancing round their fire and casting spells the like of which no decent man or woman wanted to know even existed! A group of us gathered on the town wall and watched the glow. Eerie it was, a strange blue light that flickered and shone for nigh on an hour before it died down.” He stopped, as if recalling the scene to mind.

  Power, or electrical circuits shorting and burning, Kris sent to Jo. So powerful were Railin’s powers of recollection, that he could almost see the scene unfolding before his eyes.

  “Anyway, there was nothing we could do till the spring. However, the thaw, when it came, didn’t last, but it was long enough for us to get out to where the lights came from.”

  Railin stopped as he saw Jainie approaching with a tray of plates. These she put down in front of Jo, Davies, and Kris, again waiting till Kris had paid her.

  “Don’t you let him bore you stupid with his tales,” she said before disappearing.

  While they ate, Railin continued his tale. “Lord Killian, up at the castle there,” he said, nodding to his right, “he gathered together his guard and some of us as volunteers and off we went into the mountains after whatever it was that caused the lights.” He stopped to remove his pipe and take a swig of his ale.

  “Well, I don’t mind telling you, we were scared of what we might meet out there. We knew we’d get out in a day, but we wouldn’t get back before dark, and the thought of spending a night up there among the mountain demons and monsters wasn’t pleasant.” He puffed on his pipe, taking it out to tap the herbs down more tightly.

  “Go on,” said Jo, spooning some vegetables into her mouth.

  “When we got there, we found this metal-shelled carriage,” he said. “I don’t know what it was because I’d never seen its like before! It lay there with a gaping hole in its side, and out on the snow beside it was this … box!”

  “A box?” asked Kris, opening his padded underjacket so he could get Scamp out. As the jegget poked a cautious head over the top, Railin stopped talking.

  “A box,” said Railin, staring as Scamp eased himself out onto Kris’ shoulder and sat there, looking around and sniffing.

  “What kind of box?” asked Davies, sitting back, his plate clean.

  “It was about the height of a man, and large enough to get one of these tables in,” he said, still watching the jegget in fascination.

  Bolder now, Scamp allowed himself to be enticed down Kris’ arm to sit on his lap while he was fed pieces of meat from the remains of the stew.

  “It was a strange, magical thing,” said Railin. “It looked like it was made of glass, but it was like no glass I’ve ever seen. The light didn’t shine on it, it kind of … slid o
ff it. It was dark in color and when you touched it, it moved.”

  “It moved?” Kris looked up from feeding Scamp.

  Railin nodded. “We had to wrap ropes round it to hold it back! It was so easy to move we were afraid it would run away with us. Lord Killian had three of the guard pull it with their horses, and the rest of us hung onto the ropes at the back to see it didn’t go too fast.”

  Frictionless from the sound of it, sent Kris.

  “Lord Killian had it taken to the castle,” said Railin. “It’s still there now, in a room on the ground level. He can’t get it opened, and he’s had nearly every wise man in the town come to look it over, but no one’s been able to figure it out yet. He’s even had a couple of spell-casters look at it, but their spells were as useless as everything else. You can hit it with an axe and it just slides off, doesn’t even mark it.”

  “It’s still there now?” asked Jo, leaning toward Kris with a small piece of meat for Scamp.

  “Oh, yes. It’s still sitting in its room. It’s definitely from off-world,” said Railin, “and Lord Bradogan down at the Port City, won’t let off-world goods come to the likes of Lord Killian. He won’t do what Bradogan wants, raise the food levy and the taxes, so we don’t get any benefits of the off-world trade.”

  Railin leaned forward. “You’ll be wanting to see this box, won’t you?” he said quietly. “It isn’t guarded. No one could steal it, it’s too big. It can’t be opened either, so he’s no fear anyone can steal what’s inside it either. So there it sits!”

  “We need to see it,” said Kris, watching as Scamp, with a small chittering noise, carefully climbed over to reach Jo.

  “I can tell you how to get in,” said Railin, “but that’s all. I won’t come with you. I got to live here, and I don’t want to spend what days I got left shut up in a cell in the castle. You get caught, you’re on your own.”

  Kris nodded. “Understood. Can you get us plans of the castle?”

  “I can. It’ll cost, though. I’ll have to buy them myself.”

  “How much?”

  “Five silver crowns.”

  Kris dug in his pocket for them. He’d been carefully eavesdropping on the man’s surface thoughts since he’d joined them, and he was as straight as he seemed. He handed the coins as unobtrusively as possible to Railin.