The Harpy's Song (Ëlamár Series Book 1)

by Logan Joss

  The houses were smaller and closer together here, blocks of tall terraces with none of the wealth of the upper levels. There didn’t seem to be any open spaces like the park above, and the narrow, crisscrossing alleyways gave Trevor a sense of security as they concealed him from sight. He took the opportunity to stop in a side street and stretch his aching arms and cramping back muscles, and as he reached upwards the sky flickered as the small fleet of fire and medical barges passed by overhead.

  ‘Uhh,’ came a grown from the cart. Trevor pulled back the sackcloth and saw that Mèlli had her eyes open.

  ‘Mèlli!’ he exclaimed. ‘You’re awake.’

  Mèlli’s mouth moved but no words came out, just a low, dry rasp.

  Trevor knelt down beside the cart and placed a hand on his friend’s cheek. ‘Don’t worry. I’m going to get us out of here,’ he said with an air of confidence, not really knowing whether he believed that he could. ‘You’ll have to stay covered over until we get to the harbordrome though.’

  Mèlli made a small movement with her hand as though she were trying to reach up to him.

  Trevor took hold of it and held it tightly. ‘I’m glad you’re alive,’ he whispered softly, before releasing Mèlli’s hand and pulling the sheet back over her.

  With a groan, he picked up the handles of the barrowcart again, his arms burning with its weight, and began to navigate through the maze of streets, downwards and outwards to the level’s edge. As he neared the front of the level, the houses gradually became larger and the streets broader and airier until, finally, they opened out onto the main thoroughfare. Trevor stopped abruptly as a large rickshaw scooted past. Unlike those on the upper levels, this one carried many passengers—smartly dressed and business-like—and was pulled by four young men, not much older than Trevor. It drew to a halt by a knot of people and the passengers alighted, to be replaced immediately by others who clambered aboard and shouted their destinations to the drivers. Those who had disembarked joined queues and waited for the passenger barges that would take them on the final leg of their journey. Trevor watched longingly as they took their seats and wished that he could join them; even if he had a pass, he didn’t think he would be able to get Mèlli on board.

  ‘Hey, boy!’ a voice called. It took Trevor a moment to realize the man was addressing him. ‘Are you on a run?’

  ‘Um…no,’ Trevor replied, not sure what he meant.

  The man produced a small roll of parchment and waved it at Trevor. Trevor picked up the cart and approached him hesitantly. The man looked him up and down, assessing his disheveled appearance and crinkling his nose slightly. He glanced briefly from side to side.

  ‘Well, you’ll have to do.’ He handed the parchment to Trevor, who just stood there confused. ‘Away with you then. Payment on return.’ He waved him off down the street.

  Trevor walked away slowly down the road in the direction the man had indicated. He had no idea what had just happened or what he had been asked to do. He clutched the parchment tightly in his fist and gave a quick glance over his shoulder to see the man still watching him. At that moment, a boy with a barrowcart came flying out of a side road and hurtled past him, ducking skillfully between people at the barge terminal and weaving his way towards a cluster of other barrow boys a short distance away. Trevor decided to follow him but had far more difficulty maneuvering his cart through the crowds.

  ‘Oi! Watch where you’re going!’ someone snapped as he bumped into them, nearly knocking them over.

  ‘Sorry!’ Trevor said over his shoulder as he continued.

  As he approached the barrow boys he saw them all step towards a barge which had emerged over the cliff before them. It was more of a moving platform really, with none of the fancy trimmings of the passenger barges. All but the last boy to arrive got on and the barge began to descend immediately to the level below. Trevor stood beside him and peered over the edge, watching as it disappeared out of sight, heading towards the mass of colored yurts of the bazaar far below. He sighed with disappointment. I missed it.

  ‘All aboard!’ came a shout from behind him. Another barge had pulled up and the remaining barrow boy was already getting on. He followed as quickly as he could. The boy eyed him with curiosity as he boarded. With a sweep of his head, the pilot checked for any more passengers and, as there were none, he pushed a lever forward and the barge began its descent. Trevor felt awkward under the gaze of the other boy and looked away, trying not to make eye contact and hoping that the journey would be over quickly. But to his surprise, the barge did not go straight down but followed a sweeping path that took them along the edge of the bazaar.

  ‘What ya got there?’

  In his distraction, Trevor hadn’t noticed that Mèlli was waking up and the boy was staring suspiciously at the moving sackcloth. ‘Nothing,’ he said quickly, but he felt his cheeks burn.

  The boy smirked a little and winked at him. ‘Goin’ to the merchants’ quarter are ya?’

  Trevor held out the parchment the man had given him. ‘I’m on a run,’ he offered.

  ‘Right you are. New aren’t ya?’

  Trevor nodded.

  ‘Of course. Just don’t let ‘em take advantage of ya. Make sure ya get ya full shelk.’

  ‘Thanks. I will.’

  As soon as the barge touched down, the boy sped off. ‘See ya round then,’ he called over his shoulder.

  Trevor nodded his thanks to the pilot and headed off in the direction the boy had gone down a cobbled street of small, wooden houses. Mèlli was starting to move about more now so he ducked into the first alleyway he came to and stopped to check on her. He pulled back the sackcloth. Mèlli was awake and groaning. She raised a hand and beckoned Trevor towards her.

  ‘Are we in the stars?’ she rasped, her voice sounding small and dry in his ear.

  ‘No. We’re in Aÿena,’ he whispered back.

  Mèlli turned up the corners of her mouth in a faint smile and held a hand to his cheek. ‘No, I’m in Aÿena. You’re dead, remember?’

  Trevor took her hand and held it briefly before tucking it back down by her side. ‘I’ll get you some water. You’ll feel better soon,’ he reassured her, pulling the cover back over her and setting off.

  The cobbled street led into a square surrounded by a variety of small open-fronted businesses selling everything a vessel could need, from chandleries which sold rope and fittings to those offering their skills to repair sails and rigging. Some even provided the services of crewmen.

  Outside a building directly in front of him, a man called out to Trevor, ‘Hey there boy! Why not come and sign up? See Ëlamár. Have the adventure of a lifetime!’

  Trevor regarded the man with cynicism as he walked past—he was dressed in an elaborate costume that resembled a pantomime admiral—and gave a vague smile and dismissive shake of his head. I already am, he thought and hurried on out of the square.

  Beyond was a large wooden building that looked like a hangar, whose huge side doors were drawn back to reveal an army of men hard at work. Some hoisted enormous, curved planks into place while others secured them with nails the size of daggers, concealing the skeletal wooden frame beneath. It was the hull of a ship. Trevor lowered the barrowcart and stopped in awe. He had never seen a ship being built before and watched with interest as the giant structure took shape.

  Then it occurred to him. This was not just a ship—it was a flying galleon. He marveled once again at how these big, heavy structures could float as if they were lighter than air, and remembered wistfully how close Mèlli had come to showing him how they did it when they were aboard the Leviathan’s Roar. He made a mental note to ask her again when the time was right.

  As if on cue, Mèlli stirred. She placed a hand on the side of the cart and tried to push herself up, almost tipping it over in the process.

  Jolted back to the present, Trevor pressed a hand onto her shoulder. ‘You need to stay down, Mèlli. Someone might see you. We’ll be there soon,’ he said, hoping t
hat was the truth.

  He realized he needed to make a move. Mèlli was coming round now and in her confused state wouldn’t stay hidden for long. After a while, he turned a corner and found himself once again on the grimy streets of the merchants’ quarter. He pushed the barrowcart as fast as he could down the cobbled street, but Mèlli didn’t appreciate the bumpy ride. She threw the sheet off and clutched her head in her arms, groaning. Trevor grabbed a corner and threw it back over her, but Mèlli wrestled free and leaned over the side of the cart, retching violently.

  ‘Oh, sorry,’ Trevor said. ‘Not long now.’

  A sign hanging above a door told him that he was heading in the right direction. The Wayfarer’s Bounty. This was the street he had walked down that morning. He just hoped those drunken merchants had gone. And what about the men with the fighting birds? The streets here seemed to be strangely quiet, not that Trevor was complaining—Mèlli was growing increasingly restless and it was obviously uncomfortable being pushed along in a bumpy wooden cart. He was glad there was no-one to see him with such a strange, writhing cargo.

  But as he approached the square at the end of the street he slowed to a halt. This was where everyone was. Crowds of merchants filled the square between the food stalls, holding tankards of mead and gazing, each and every one of them, upwards towards the top level of the city. Trevor felt sure they could only be looking at one thing.

  The cessation of movement caused Mèlli to throw the cover off again and sit up, more alert this time.

  ‘I’ve got to get out of this thing,’ she complained, her voice still sounding dry and hoarse.

  ‘Okay, but let’s just get past this lot first.’

  Mèlli turned around and saw the thick knot of merchants. Seeing Trevor’s point, she ducked back down and covered herself over the best she could.

  Trevor weaved his way through the crowd, his face burning with a feeling of unease. At any moment he expected someone to recognize him as the boy who had been looking for Sklõff. But they were all too interested in the events that were unfolding at his villa on the top level, to take the slightest bit of notice of a barrow boy and his cart.

  With a sigh of relief, Trevor brought the cart to a halt, safely tucked away between yurts on the edge of the bazaar. He pulled back the cover. ‘You can get out now.’

  Mèlli sat up and turned over stiffly onto all fours, lifting one shaky leg over the edge of the cart. She wobbled precariously until Trevor rushed to her aid. ‘Hold onto my shoulder.’

  She misunderstood and wrapped both arms around his neck, unbalancing them both until Trevor toppled over backward, pulling them both into a heap on the ground.

  There was a moment of silence before each started to laugh. But the humor melted away to something far deeper as they caught each other’s eye and held their gaze, soul-searching and tender. ‘I can’t believe you came for me,’ Mèlli said gently, still staring deeply into his eyes.

  Time paused as Trevor held her there. He remembered the radiant face from the familiar, those golden locks tumbling over her shoulders, and saw the girl before him for the first time.

  ‘Not bad for someone who’s dead, eh?’ he said softly.

  Taking her weight, he rolled her to his side and stood up. He reached down and held out a hand to her. How had he ever thought she was a boy? It seemed so ridiculous now. He could see how pretty she was. Even the hand she placed into his was so small and delicate.

  He pulled her to her feet. ‘Do you think you can walk?’ he asked, still holding her hand.

  ‘I think I’ll need some help. Until I can feel my legs again,’ she said with a smile, only half joking. ‘But I think I need something to eat more than anything.’

  Trevor put his arm around her waist to support her. ‘Me too. All I’ve had today are those nuts and berries that Selmás gave me this morning.’

  Mèlli put a hand on his shoulder and they made their way steadily into the bazaar. ‘Selmás?’

  ‘It’s a long story.’ Trevor grinned to himself, relishing the thought of recounting the incredible journey he had made to find her.

  ‘It sounds like you’ve got a lot to tell me.’

  ‘Yes, but let’s get out of this city first.’

  Trevor could feel how weak Mèlli was. Her legs seemed hardly able to take her weight and she leaned on him heavily, making their progress slow through the tight crowds. To make matters worse, they passed what seemed to be endless food stalls, laden with everything from fresh fruit and vegetables to stacks of what appeared to be brightly colored pickles. But it was the enticing aroma of freshly baked breads and pastries that really made Trevor’s stomach growl with hunger. ‘I’m going to have to find us some food. And water.’

  ‘There’s a fountain just up here,’ Mèlli said, pointing over the tops of some yurts in the direction of the harbordrome and drawing Trevor’s attention to a golden teardrop-shaped sculpture hanging in the distance.

  As they got closer, he saw that it was the top of a statue. Four golden figures stood in a circle, raising a single teardrop above them. Water flowed mysteriously from it into a many-sided pool below. Trevor recognized one of the figures to be Zúbenelgenúbi and he thought another was Pönicighth. The remaining two were probably other Watchers that he had yet to meet.

  He guided Mèlli to the fountain and eased her onto its edge. Without hesitation, she scooped handfuls of the cool water to her mouth and drank profusely, desperate to quench her thirst.

  Trevor glanced around and noticed the disapproving glares of the people around them. This area was a little spot of tranquility in the crowded marketplace; benches stood between raised flower beds of tumbling blooms that swayed gently in the breeze. Their occupants seemed unhappy to have had their lunch interrupted by the sudden appearance of these two filthy urchins. Trevor ignored them and bent down to drink directly from the pool.

  ‘Wait here a minute. I won’t be long,’ he said after he’d drunk his fill. He stood and made his way back into the bazaar before Mèlli could answer.

  Moments later he returned, out of breath and looking nervous. He tugged at Mèlli’s arm. ‘Come on. We’ve got to go.’

  ‘Why, what’s happened,’ Mèlli asked as he led her away.

  Trevor lifted the front of his tunic slightly to reveal a loaf of fresh bread.

  ‘Where did you get that?’

  ‘I stole it,’ Trevor said, hushed but excited.

  When they were a safe distance away, they stopped and Trevor tore the loaf in half to share with Mèlli. As she hungrily bit off chunks of the soft, steaming bread, he produced a small round of cheese from somewhere and held it out to her with a mischievous grin on his face. She looked at him incredulously but gladly stuffed half of it into her bread.

  ‘I’m not even going to ask where you just pulled that out from,’ she said through a mouthful of food.

  It didn’t take them long to finish, but with some food inside them, they felt re-energized. Mèlli’s legs stopped shaking and she began to feel stronger. As they set off again, Trevor placed an arm around her waist to help her.

  ‘It’s okay. I think I can walk now,’ she said, pulling away.

  Trevor’s head and shoulders slumped and he turned his face from her.

  Mèlli noticed his reaction and put a hand on his arm. ‘I’ll let you know if I get tired,’ she said gently and then quickly changed the subject. ‘So, what’s the plan?’

  Trevor had no time to question his feelings so pushed them aside. ‘We need to get to the harbordrome,’ he said, indicating in the direction that Mèlli was already looking.

  ‘Did you come on a galleon?’

  ‘Um…no…’

  Mèlli gave Trevor a confused look, intrigued to know how he had made the long voyage from the forests of Mèssorós.

  ‘Then how did you get—’

  ‘We’re going to have to steal one,’ Trevor cut in.

  Mèlli rolled her eyes at him, which made him smile. How he had missed her little
quirks.

  ‘Why can’t we go back the same way you arrived?’

  ‘We just can’t. As I said, it’s a long story, but I promise I’ll tell you later. First, we need to get on one of those,’ he said, pointing to the tenders which floated between the bazaar and the harbordrome.

  ‘We can’t just get on one, Trevor. They’re for cargo.’

  ‘Just follow my lead,’ he said.

  A tender had just arrived, carrying rolls of exotic fabrics. Once it had docked, its pilot stepped off and went to join a group of other tender-pilots who were loitering close by. The cargo was unloaded immediately onto a cart by two boys who had been waiting on the quayside. Trevor strode across nonchalantly to the tender and started to help them. They looked at each other quizzically but said nothing. When it was unloaded, he gave Mèlli a nod and she came to join him. He stepped onto the tender. ‘Come on,’ he urged between gritted teeth.

  As soon as Mèlli was on board, Trevor took hold of a lever and pushed it forwards like he had seen the man on the barge do before. Instantly the tender lurched, throwing Mèlli onto her bottom, and sped forwards horizontally away from the quayside and out over the sea, hovering above the fishing boats below. Their masts rocked on the waves beneath them, almost close enough to touch.

  They needed to go higher, so Trevor grabbed another level and pulled it towards him.

  ‘No!’ Mèlli called out. But it was too late. The tender fell precipitously from the sky and plummeted towards the sea below. Trevor pushed the lever in the opposite direction as hard as he could just in time, as the hull skimmed the waves, sending a cloud of spray into the air.

  Back on the quayside, a crowd was starting to gather to watch the spectacle. They seemed to be enjoying the entertainment. Even the pilot watched with amusement until he realized that it was his tender that had been taken. He grew red-faced with rage and started shouting. ‘Hey! You, there! Stop! That’s my tender! Somebody stop them!’

  But no-one could do anything but watch.

  The tender shot upwards as Trevor pushed on the lever. Mèlli clung to the side, nauseated and trying hard not to vomit as they rose higher and higher. They crossed the line of tenders heading to the harbordrome and came to hover above them. They hung there for a moment as the stream of vessels floated by beneath them, serene and dreamlike. A merchant aboard one tender, having heard the fracas below, called out to them, ‘Let me help you!’