Darkfall

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Darkfall Page 9

by Isobelle Carmody


  The younger amazon held open the door to the cabin so the blonde woman could go inside.

  ‘Put her by the fire,’ the blind woman commanded.

  In a moment their sodden guest was wrapped efficiently in coarse blankets and laid on a truckle bed near a blackened hearth. A few coals glowed amidst a heap of ashes and the young amazon piled lumps of knotted black wood onto the dying fire and blew at the coals to resurrect it.

  ‘Where is this place?’ The visitor’s voice was a kind of rusty rattle.

  One of the amazons shrugged at the other. ‘Delirious.’

  ‘I do not believe so,’ the blind woman pronounced, coming across to sit beside the bed on a small stool. She was obviously familiar with the room and perhaps the entire area, since she had walked without guidance from the beach. Maybe she was not entirely blind for in this light there were no cataracts. Only a silvery sheen that veiled the pupils.

  ‘Are you in possession of your senses, girl?’ the blind woman asked.

  ‘I … I don’t know.’

  ‘She does not know,’ echoed the older amazon with pointed emphasis.

  ‘Tush,’ the blind woman chided. She turned her face to the girl lying wrapped in blankets. ‘I understand your confusion. I am Alene and this is Tareed,’ she indicated the young amazon, then the older, ‘and Feyt.’

  ‘Fate?’

  The blonde amazon bowed with some irony. ‘I am at your service, lady. Though I would say my name thus: Feyt. And your name?’

  The fire spat noisily, and a name rose in an empty mind. ‘Ember … That is my name. I … think it is.’

  Alene frowned. ‘Amnesia can result from swallowing the shining algae which float on the surface of still water, though more often it simply causes temporary paralysis of the limbs and vocal cords. I have never heard of a case where the amnesia occurred without the other symptoms, though. Do you recall how you came to be in the water?’

  Ember shook her head, tasting the familiarity of the name. Was it hers? It seemed to fit. She decided not to say she had been mute and paralysed because it would necessitate mentioning the dream of the manbeast. Dream or not, her mouth still tingled from the creature’s kiss.

  ‘You must have been in the water for an age. You are still practically blue with cold and your face is swollen out of shape,’ Tareed said.

  ‘Unless that is the way her face always looks,’ Feyt put in laconically.

  The younger amazon looked mortified. ‘Oh. My apologies. I only meant …’

  ‘Give it up, Tar,’ Feyt advised.

  ‘Hush,’ Alene murmured. ‘Tell me, Ember, how do you feel otherwise? Are you in pain?’

  ‘I am cold and numb still, but that is fading,’ Ember croaked.

  ‘You do not remember who you are, other than your name?’

  Ember shook her head. She had the feeling this woman already knew all the answers, and was simply exploring the extent of her memories.

  ‘Did you not weave who she was when you foresaw her half-drowned on the shore?’ asked Tareed of Alene.

  ‘The vision of her coming was bright in my mind but I knew only that some terrible wrong would be wrought if we did not find her in time.’

  Ember registered that the older woman had not answered the question, but Tareed frowned speculatively and began tugging on one of her dreadlocks. ‘Maybe someone tried to murder her, Alene. Maybe she was given an Iridomi drug to erase her mind and thrown into the great water. Remember the girl they found in the sewers of the citadel? Maybe Ember had some information that …’

  Feyt snorted. ‘You read too many foolish story scrolls.’

  Alene stood abruptly. ‘I shall contact Darkfall. If my sisters have dreamed of her coming, perhaps one of them wove more than I …’

  ‘You do not mean to call them tonight?’ Feyt interrupted. ‘Aden is not yet risen and Onyx is thin and powerless. You will drain the stone completely. And what of the watchers in the citadel?’

  ‘My message will not be intercepted in the citadel,’ Alene said firmly. ‘You think I have no sense? I will call from Skyreach Bluff. As for draining the stone, what is the good of its power except in its being of use? Saved it is worthless to me.’

  ‘It is a pity we do not have more prepared stones,’ Tareed murmured pacifically.

  The older woman looked impatient. ‘It is not a pity that we have no prepared stones, child. It would be a pity if it were an oversight or someone’s incompetence. But our lack is the result of a deliberate policy by Jurass of Acantha, aimed at isolating Darkfall from its soulweavers when they go out into the world.’

  Visibly abashed by this terse lecture, Tareed said nothing.

  ‘If you would at least wait until the moons are full, the call will not drain the stone entirely …’ Feyt persisted. ‘The girl will be safe enough here and her memory may return …’

  ‘She will not be safe here. None of us will be for long.’

  ‘Have you woven that the hut will no longer be inviolate?’ Feyt growled, standing abruptly.

  ‘I have not woven that we will be safe here forever,’ the blind woman said mildly.

  ‘Ahh! You talk in circles,’ Feyt grumbled.

  ‘I will go at once,’ Alene said briskly, rising too. ‘You will stay with the girl.’

  ‘No. If you must call, I will go with you. Tareed will remain here.’

  Alene pulled a shawl around her thin shoulders and Feyt took up one of the lanterns before following her out into the night. Alene’s shawl flapped in a rising wind and the door slammed closed.

  Blinking wearily, Ember turned her head to watch Tareed put some more fuel on the fire.

  ‘What sort of place is this?’ she wondered.

  Tareed turned to stare at her and she realised she had spoken aloud.

  ‘You are on the isle of Ramidan.’

  Ember stifled a yawn. ‘I don’t … don’t know where that is. That older woman, Alene. She is blind?’

  ‘She is a soulweaver,’ Tareed said, almost indignantly.

  ‘I remember that I was swimming. I was looking for … for something.’ She wanted to say she had been looking for a horse, but a sudden vivid memory of the manbeast keening to the sky stopped her. Somehow she knew that she did not have a horse and could not ride.

  ‘Do you remember your sept?’ Tareed asked, coming closer.

  ‘I … no.’ Ember wished the girl would stop asking questions. The completeness of her amnesia frightened her.

  Suddenly the young amazon leaned closer. ‘Your eye …’ she whispered incredulously.

  ‘I’m blind in one eye,’ Ember agreed, then realised it was true. She had no idea how she had lost the sight of one eye, but she knew it in the same mysterious way she knew she had no horse.

  ‘Silverblinded,’ Tareed said.

  ‘Blind.’ Ember blinked and found she was too tired to open her eyes again. She submitted to sleep with a sigh of relief and almost at once dreamed.

  She was standing alone in a green clearing, surrounded by tall trees. The sun fell pure and hot where the trees did not shade the ground. Ember could hear music all around her, haunting and demanding.

  ‘Where are you coming from?’ she murmured.

  The music stopped, and now she had the feeling she was being watched from the dappled dimness under the trees.

  ‘Who is there?’

  There was no answer, but the feeling of being observed grew. Ember felt a prickle of fear.

  A bush rustled and suddenly she was really afraid. She turned to run, only to catch her foot in an exposed root and fall hard.

  A hand touched her shoulder, and she screamed …

  7

  Many were the creatures made by the Song for Keltor:

  the savage silfi who rule the great water;

  the fat, sweet-natured aspi;

  the fair unyki;

  the flyts whose songs echo the Song …

  Each was made complete, excepting only the Lastmade:

  the tw
o-legged human folk …

  LEGENDSONG OF THE UNYKORN

  ‘Forgive me. I did not meant to frighten you,’ Feyt said.

  Ember lifted a shaking hand to rub her eyes. She felt completely disoriented. The forest in her dream had seemed so real. Even now, she could almost smell the grass and feel the sun on her face. It was as if she had only just closed her eyes, but the fire was out and the air in the cabin was freezing.

  ‘She fell asleep just after you left,’ Tareed was saying.

  Ember gazed at the three women in their peculiar clothes and felt suddenly convinced that she was dreaming. Maybe she was in a hospital bed with serious concussion, or locked in a coma. That might explain the loss of memory as well. They said you did not dream in a coma, but what they meant was that the dreams of a comatose person could not be measured.

  Thoughts of comas and hospital seemed very familiar to her, yet there was no connected memory.

  ‘I do not mind that Ember slept, but you slept, Tar, and you have let the fire go out,’ Feyt said sternly. Both she and the blind woman were drenched, which meant it must have rained, though Ember could hear nothing now.

  ‘You were so long,’ Tareed was saying plaintively. ‘I thought the legionnaires had caught you.’

  ‘You were so worried you fell asleep?’ Feyt snapped.

  Tareed hung her head.

  ‘Never mind. The fire can be lit again,’ Alene said briskly. ‘Now stop chattering the pair of you and help me remove my boots. I think I am getting a blister. I vow Skyreach Bluff has grown since last I climbed it!’

  Tareed hastened to remove the offending boots and Feyt rekindled the fire, then crossed to a bench and poured some oats from a small sack into a pot and added water.

  ‘By the Horn!’ Tareed cried, freezing in the act of arranging the blind woman’s wet boots with their soles to the fire. ‘I have just remembered! If you look closely into Ember’s eye, I would swear it is marked by silverblindness. One eye, Alene! That means she is …’

  ‘I am aware of what Ember is,’ Alene said flatly, weariness and something heavier in the droop of her shoulders. ‘Do stoke up the fire, Tar. I am chilled to my soul.’

  But Tareed gawked at her stupidly. ‘You knew all along?’ She glared at Feyt accusingly. ‘Did you know, too?’

  The older amazon brought the pot of porridge and hung it from a hook over the flames.

  ‘I do not understand. You said you had woven nothing of her,’ Tareed stormed at Alene.

  The soulweaver held up a thin, long-fingered hand. ‘No, I did not say that. I allowed you to assume it. You, of all people, should know by now that soulweavers are not given to blurting out their knowledge, even to myrmidon protectors. Especially news concerning strangers.’

  ‘But Alene,’ Tareed protested excitedly. ‘If Ember is silverblind in one eye and her hair is red and she came from the great water, she is …’

  ‘A stranger, and not the first to come here with red hair, nor even the first to come silverblind, though that is not generally known. And all strangers have come by the great water.’

  ‘But how is it possible for a stranger to be silverblind? And half silverblind! She even looks a bit like …’

  ‘Quite a deal more than a bit, as you will see when she is recovered from her immersion,’ Alene said. ‘Why do you think I was in such a hurry to call Darkfall from Skyreach Bluff? But hear me, Tar, none of my sisters saw the coming of this stranger. Not one. What does that tell you?’

  Tareed looked crestfallen. ‘She is just a stranger?’

  ‘No stranger is just anything,’ Alene said tartly. ‘Especially one who appears after so long. Who can tell what her coming bodes, looking as she does? Perhaps she is a warning to us to abide by our promises in these troubled times. A reminder to keep faith. Lanalor knows, a sign would not go amiss.’

  ‘Even as a stranger, her coming may bode nothing,’ Feyt said. ‘Many who are loyal to Darkfall do not believe Lanalor knew that strangers would be drawn through his portal. Especially since he never scribed of them. Surely that alone must be proof he did not foresee that his portal would draw more than the one for whom it was created.’

  ‘Lanalor may have had some reason for omitting to mention them,’ Alene said.

  ‘Maybe he left them out because they were irrelevant,’ Feyt countered.

  Alene laughed. ‘Your feeling is echoed by many, my dearest Feyt, but think of what you are saying. If Lanalor knew that strangers would come, could such a brilliant man imagine they would have no effect?’

  Feyt poked rather violently at the fire, but did not respond.

  Alene turned to Ember. ‘My sisters and I do not doubt that Lanalor knew that strangers would come. How could he have failed to foresee it, he who saw so much? The question we debate is whether the impact of individual strangers matters, or whether they must be evaluated only as a body. I, myself, believe they impact in both ways.’ She turned slightly to Feyt. ‘As to whether Lanalor knew strangers would come, well, he commanded us to “watch over all who come through my portal”. Does that not suggest he knew that more than one would come?’

  ‘That is one interpretation of his words,’ Feyt said.

  Alene laughed again. ‘So stubborn in your beliefs …’

  ‘Why did he not speak directly?’ Tareed demanded. ‘If he could see so much, how is it that he did not see what trouble there would be over interpretations of his words?’

  ‘Why does the flyt seek the thermals? Because it is in its nature. Lanalor’s sister, Alyda, scribed that as his way – to hide plans inside plans, and words within words. And perhaps he had learned the wisdom of not always saying what came into his head the moment it appeared. Saying things outright sometimes has its own impact – and not always a desirable one. Why do you think soulweavers do not announce their every weaving?’

  ‘What about Ember being half silverblind?’ Tareed asked stubbornly. ‘It is one of the signs …’

  A flicker of irritation disturbed the soulweaver’s calm features. ‘You read the signs too literally, Tar. I have told you that before. “Half-blind” has long been read by those with more wisdom than you as a metaphorical sign, and only the simplest scribes read “crowned by flame” as red-haired since the next stanza speaks of the Unraveller as having yellow hair. That part of the Legendsong has always been wide open to interpretation. But, of course, you may have stumbled on a true translation where scholars who have given their lives to the study have failed.’

  Tareed flushed. ‘I just thought …’

  Alene sighed. ‘So did I, child. For a moment so did I. But we were both wrong. Yet my sisters agree that Ember’s arrival must mean something. Particularly given her appearance. Now help Feyt prepare for we must be well on our way to the citadel before daylight comes.’

  Tareed gaped at the older amazon, but Feyt merely gave the pot another stir, then crossed to the wall to remove two shoulder packs from hooks. She began to fill them with things from around the hut; a pan and a knife and a heel of bread. Eventually, Tareed moved to help her.

  Alene took up the ladle and began to stir the pot. Ember watched them with a deepening sense of unreality. She must be dreaming, and yet the flames threw heat on to her cheeks, and the bed slats pressed into her buttocks through the mattress.

  ‘Shenavyre save us, the citadel,’ Tareed muttered as she passed to the other side of the room. When she returned she was still grumbling to herself. ‘Why not just jump into the fire lakes on Iridom instead, and get the skin burned off us? Why go to the citadel if we are safe here, I say? But no one listens to me.’

  Alene told her curtly to get on with packing and came to sit by the bed again. ‘Ember, I am a Darkfall soulweaver and we have the ability to see the truth and know it to be true,’ she said very gravely. ‘You have lost your memory of yourself, but not of your own world, though all about you seems strange. I tell you now a truth that you will find hard to accept: this is not your world. You are a stranger on this world
, which is named Keltor. Anyone who looks on you will see you are a stranger for you are silverblind in one eye. Here that which we call silverblindness comes only to those who choose it, and only on Darkfall isle. None who undergo the Darkfall process are half-blinded. They are as I am. To be visibly a stranger is very dangerous.’

  Ember shook her head. ‘I am dreaming.’

  The blind woman took her hand in a hard, cold grip. ‘This is no dream, child. At least, not as your people understand dreams. From my readings of the Scroll of Strangers, your people think of dreams as meaningless nocturnal overflow. Many visitors from your world have died simply because of their inability to accept that what had happened to them was real. For your own sake, believe that you are truly from another world and that you would be killed if that were known here.’

  ‘How did I get here?’ Ember asked slowly, seeking the flaw in the dream that would release her. ‘And why would I be killed if other people from my world have come here?’

  Tareed said eagerly, ‘Because they might think you …’

  ‘Silence!’ Alene snapped. She turned her silver gaze back to Ember. ‘You came here by way of a portal created long ago by a man of our world called Lanalor. He was a great ruler. The first and some say the greatest. He made many of the laws which shape our lives today. It was he who established the order of the Darkfall soulweavers to which I belong. There are, in this age, those who do not wish to live under Lanalor’s Charter and who would discredit his memory. My sisters and I, and our protectors and allies, are sworn to preserve his works. Our enemies claim there was never such a thing as a portal to another world. They claim Lanalor was a madman and say he had no right to make laws. They feel safe in saying such things because no strangers have come for many aeons. Your appearance would prove Lanalor’s portal existed, and those who would overthrow his laws will not countenance this.’

 

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