Darkfall

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by Isobelle Carmody


  Glynn felt herself blush as she realised what he meant.

  ‘Better certain coin than an uncertain future, eh?’ Lev said. ‘What would you do if you found one?’

  ‘I … I would like to see what my future held,’ Glynn said hesitantly.

  ‘Aye. But if it were a bad future, what would the point be of knowing about it first, eh? It would be like having to endure it twice over.’

  ‘You might be able to change it, though.’

  Lev laughed triumphantly. ‘Ha. There it is. You would try to change the future, but what if what you saw was a lie? Remember the Void contains not only what will be, but what has passed and is now and could have been, all mixed up together. A woman who visions her home struck by skyfire in a storming might sell at a loss and move away, only to find it never comes to pass, or that a worse fate awaits her in the new place. Darklins give a person soulweaving tendencies, but it takes a full Darkfall soulweaver to see what is true.’

  A lot of what had happened aboard the Waverider suddenly made sense in the light of Lev’s words. Argon obviously had soulweaving tendencies which had enabled him to see the ship coming to Eron isle. But when he had predicted a storming, Solen had pointed out he was not a full soulweaver, and therefore might be wrong in what he had foreseen.

  What I need, Glynn thought flippantly, is a proper soulweaver to tell me my future. It occurred to her that talking to a soulweaver might be the wisest course she could take. There were none on Acantha obviously, but maybe on Fomhika …

  Suddenly there was a hush as four men wearing black tunics embroidered with small flaring red suns entered. Glynn had seen people in this attire moving about the song cavern, but she had no idea who or what they were.

  ‘We come, with Jurass’s blessing, to seek your help in preventing the Unraveller demon escaping from the Void,’ one of the men announced in a beautiful, rather evangelical voice. His eyes raked the room as if he expected dissent, but no one spoke. He made a motion and the other men moved efficiently about the room holding out red pouches. Lev grumbled under his breath but when a man approached their table, he put a handful of coin in the pouch. Glynn followed suit, sweeping the small coins she had got in change into the pouch.

  ‘May the Void guardian watch over you,’ the man murmured to them both in a perfunctory tone.

  When the group had completed their transit of the nightshelter, they bowed and departed. After a slight hiatus the talk swelled anew, though Glynn thought it was more subdued.

  Lev rose and stretched. ‘Time for me to go,’ he said. ‘I will walk you back to your cavesite, eh?’

  Glynn was glad to have him with her along the dark passages. A good many of the torches were now extinguished and there were fewer people about. When they reached Porm, Glynn gave a little cry of delight, for moonlight was falling in beams down the chimneys and some of the pools appeared to be full of stars.

  Lev eyed the pools morosely as he bid Glynn goodnight and turned to retrace his steps along the race.

  ‘Lev?’

  He turned inquiringly.

  ‘Are there … are there soulweavers on Fomhika?’

  ‘Not since the strife there. Poverin sent Alandria back to the misty isle for her own sake. At least, that is what he put about. He called her his conscience but maybe she pricked him one time too many. Far as I know, all soulweavers are on Darkfall or Myrmidor now, excepting Alene on Ramidan, of course.’ He frowned. ‘Faylian might be on Vespi, but if she is, the Vespians are keeping it quiet. Why do you ask?’

  Glynn yawned and said casually, ‘I just wondered.’

  Lev nodded, but his eyes were curious. ‘You are a strange girl, Glynn, my friend. Full of contradictions. You give coin to the Draaka’s followers and do not blink an eye when I call the Unraveller a demon, yet you ask about soulweavers with real interest.

  So, Glynn thought, the men in the long tunics collecting money were followers of the Draaka. She had guessed as much after their speech. She said, ‘You gave coin to those men as well, Lev, and then you praised the soulweavers for their ability to see the truth.’

  Lev tilted his head as if she had won a point. ‘True enough. Well, we will have to save this puzzle for another day. My head wants its bed.’

  Glynn watched until he had gone out of sight, then she made her way thoughtfully across the floor of the cavesite and up the ramp leading to the fell.

  According to Lev, there were a lot of soulweavers on Darkfall and Myrmidor, but only one on Ramidan. That made Darkfall her logical choice of destination. But there were distances to consider is well. Darkfall might be impossibly far. She must get a map to find out which island was closer.

  Lifting the door flap to Solen’s fell, she discovered that there was light inside. Solen had come home after all, she thought, startled because his message had said he would be away all night.

  But it was not Solen.

  11

  Shenavyre sang in a voice as fair as her face

  and sweet as her soul.

  Hearing her, the Firstmade

  remembered the Song of its own Making

  and understood that all along it had been searching

  – not for the Song, but for its Singer …

  LEGENDSONG OF THE UNYKORN

  Staring into a blazing fire in the hearth was a long-limbed giant with shoulder-length blond hair. Hearing her enter, he pivoted.

  ‘Solen, thank Lanalor …’ He stopped, wide-set jade eyes narrowing to a slit. ‘Who are you?’

  Glynn bridled at his tone, registering simultaneously that the stranger did not possess the high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes she had learned were characteristic of the majority of Acanthans. She squared her shoulders.

  ‘I am Solen’s guest,’ she announced coolly. ‘Who are you?’

  The man frowned. ‘Where is Solen?’

  Glynn opened her mouth to say she did not know but, thinking better of it, she put her hands on her hips. ‘Not so fast. You haven’t told me who you are.’

  ‘Ah, I am Donard Arolnhod Seminter.’ He said his name as though he expected her to recognise it. When she made no response to it, he said, ‘Solen is expecting me. He did not tell you?’

  Glynn was tempted to give this absurdly long-named visitor a lecture on Solen’s lack of consistency, but instead, she crossed to warm her hands at the fire. Something struck her. ‘You didn’t leave a bunch of sether here this morning, did you?’

  He stared at her blankly. ‘What is your sept?’

  ‘I am Fomhikan,’ Glynn said, and was horrified to hear herself slur the words. If only she had not drunk so much!

  His frown gave way to some less definable expression. ‘Fomhikan? And your name?’

  ‘You can call me Glynn,’ she said. Then, feeling she had lost control of the situation, she said crisply, ‘As I told you, I don’t know anything about a meeting. No doubt Solen forgot.’

  ‘Solen would not forget:.’ He frowned. ‘You have an odd way of talking – for a Fomhikan.’

  ‘I have only just recovered from swallowing bittermute algae,’ Glynn said.

  ‘Are you truly Fomhikan? After all, things are not always called by their true names …’ Donard quirked one elegant brow and, as with Lev earlier, Glynn had the feeling there was something required of her. Not having the slightest idea what that could be, she thought it safest to be silent.

  ‘Where did Solen go?’

  ‘I told you: I don’t know. He left a … a chit saying he had legion business and would not be back tonight.’

  Donard’s eyes bored into hers. ‘You will wait here for him until he returns tomorrow?’

  ‘No,’ Glynn snapped. He made it sound as if she was hanging around like a puppy wanting a pat! ‘First, I don’t know when he will be back, and second, I am not waiting for him. I am only staying here while I earn coin in the minescrape for a passage home.’

  ‘The minescrape?’

  ‘Are you hard of hearing?’ Glynn decided aggression might
work better than evasion on this persistent fellow. If he became angry she would have an excuse to ask him to leave.

  ‘You have chosen a difficult and dirty way to earn coin,’ Donard only said mildly. ‘Well, whatever the reason, Solen is not here. It may even be that he did not get my message or that he has indeed forgotten our meeting. I have not seen him for some time, you understand. I am sorry to miss him. Perhaps you will tell him something for me?’

  Glynn shrugged, thinking Solen was just as likely to be waiting until this serious-looking fellow had departed before returning. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Tell him that a casting performed at great cost in Iridomi waters has proven fruitful. We now know that the most dangerous silfi, long thought by some to be mere ballad fodder, are stirring at last. We will cast in Ramidan waters when Lori iceheart shows on the dawn horizon.’

  ‘You want me to tell him that?’

  ‘It is a matter of mutual business interests,’ Donard said.

  Glynn tried to look as if this queer message made perfect sense to her, as maybe it ought. She had become used to feigning knowledge in the midst of ignorance these last few days.

  ‘You are tired and it is very late. I will take my leave of you,’ Donard said politely, moving towards the fell entrance. ‘No doubt we will meet again.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Glynn said. ‘I will be leaving Acantha soon.’

  ‘Then our short acquaintance is my loss,’ Donard said, and he left with a courteous little bow.

  Glynn tied the door flap after he had gone, thinking someone ought to invent a lock in this world or at least a good solid door. She felt cold and on impulse brought out a blanket from the sleeping chamber and stretched out before the warm hearth. She had the fleeting thought that if a spark came out of the fire she would probably burn to death; then she was asleep.

  For the first time since she had come to this strange complicated world, she slept peacefully and without dreams, but bare minutes seemed to pass before she was opening her eyes. She rose to see if it was daylight in the cavesite and immediately a vice closed around her head. Groaning, she lit a lantern and staggered to the bathing room. Every muscle seemed to have its own separate individual ache. A quick immersion in the bathing pool took away some of her muscle soreness, but a queasy feeling in her stomach decided her against food.

  She hurried through the race system to the song cavern, cursing Lev and his cirul. She hoped he had a hangover as bad as hers! On the other hand, he had drunk so much more he was probably stone dead.

  It was well into the day before her hangover subsided sufficiently to let her mind function. Only then did she think of Solen’s late-night visitor, and replay their encounter without the confusing fog of alcohol. Donard, with his talk of honour and promises, seemed an unlikely acquaintance for Solen, yet the blond man clearly regarded him highly. Of course, he had said that they had not seen one another for some time.

  She could not imagine what Donard’s message about silfi stirring signified. Lev had said she was lucky not to be eaten by silfi when she had been in the water, which suggested it was a dangerous marine animal. But why on earth would Donard want to tell Solen about fishing possibilities in Iridomi waters? As far as she knew, he had no business other than being a legionnaire and getting drunk as often as was humanly possible.

  Glynn emptied her thoughts of Solen. There were more important things to think about. Running her mind over all Lev had said the night before, she recalled he had said soulweavers could see all that would be or had been. It struck her that, if she had not misunderstood him, soulweavers could look back in time. Which meant she could learn how she had come to Keltor in the first place, and maybe in that way find out how to get back home. Since there were no soulweavers on Acantha, she had to get to Darkfall or Ramidan isle, which brought her the full circle back where she started. She needed to get coin enough to travel and she needed to find out exactly how far it was from Acantha to Ramidan, and from Acantha to Darkfall, to see which was closer. That would decide her destination, though she was tending towards Darkfall, given that there were many soulweavers there, and only one on Ramidan. It might also be useful to find out if there would be any cost for this backward scrying. She would ask Lev about it. Being from Myrmidor, he ought to know something of the myrmidons, though he had not sounded particularly fond of them talking to Teesa.

  She focused her mind on her work, refusing to be distracted either by Teesa’s occasional jibe, or the idiot antics of Baltic who seemed to be in some sort of euphoric state. He spent half the day capering about Glynn like an overgrown dog whenever Teesa took her eyes off him. Unfortunately, despite her diligence, Glynn found only two ill-shaped callstones.

  On impulse, she asked Mallin how many coins it would take to cross from Acantha to Darkfall.

  The overseer gave her a strange look. ‘It would be fifteen or so hacoin to reach Myrmidor. I suppose that is what you mean, since you cannot travel by ship to Darkfall.’

  ‘Of course,’ Glynn said, as if she understood, and she reminded herself to ask Lev about Darkfall. She could not imagine how the crossing between Myrmidor and Darkfall would be made if not by ship. Perhaps there was a bridge? Not that it mattered. Fifteen hacoin was an absolute fortune and she could only hope Ramidan was a lot closer!

  Back in the song cavern Glynn looked for Lev, but he was nowhere to be seen. She thought of asking Mallin about him, but the overseer had departed already. Disappointed, she headed back to Porm cavesite, turning over in her mind various strategies to get the information she needed about Ramidan. When she reached Solen’s fell it was dark and there was no sign that he had returned. She was not surprised. If he had come back, he was probably off drinking with his friends.

  On impulse, she decided to eat at the stalls for a change. Maybe being among people would stop her feeling quite so abandoned. Tomorrow, if Lev did not make an appearance, she would ask Mallin where he lived so that she could check on him. In the meantime she would eat and do a little strategic eavesdropping. Better than sitting in the fell, twiddling her thumbs and worrying about Ember.

  She did not bother changing her clothes. By the time she had washed her hands and face, it was quite dark in the cavesite. The clouds she had seen gathering on the horizon from the song cavern had obviously covered the twin Keltan moons, which had shed such astonishing brightness down the chimneys the night before. Now you see it, now you don’t, Glynn thought, making her way down the ramp and hoping she would not blunder into one of the pools. The market area was lit by the fire-pits and various lamps and braziers but all around it was pitch dark. Long wooden benches were pulled up around the communal fires and men and women sat along them talking and eating food from their laps, with bawling babies and shouting tots playing in the dust at their feet. The stalls selling food were clustered in rows between the fires and surrounded by milling customers.

  Glynn felt safely anonymous as she pushed her way to the nearest stall. She bought a bowl of stew and some rolls, paying with a hacoin because she knew it could not cost so much. The stall man rolled his eyes up in irritation as he handed her back a pile of coins as change. She went back to the nearest fire and sat on the end of a bench occupied by a small family. Turning her back on them to avoid any possibility of conversation, she counted her change; eight small racoin. Probably there were ten racoin to a hacoin. Putting the money away, she scooped the stew into her mouth with a roll. Keltans used no cutlery other than a knife and she had become adept at using bread as a utensil. She was hungry, having missed breakfast and lunch, and she went back for more.

  ‘Here, you should have come to hear the Draaka last night,’ a girl said excitedly behind her.

  Glynn froze, replenished bowl in hand.

  Another girl snorted. ‘I would have come, but you know how my father is. He supports the soulweavers and that means he believes the Void guardian wants to get out of the Void and gobble up the world.’ She laughed. ‘He is so old-fashioned. If I try to discus
s it or question the discrepancies in the soulweavers’ tale of Lanalor and the Void spirit, he just says I am to stop talking of matters that are not understood by any but those of the curst misty isle. I ask you.’

  Glynn turned slowly as the two girls’ voices receded, and saw them approach the place she had left vacant at the end of the bench. The young family on the other end of it took one look at the girls’ shining hair and beautifully cut wing suits, and shifted up to give them more room. They were about Glynn’s age, but alongside them she felt like a particularly unsavoury bag lady. Not that they noticed her. They were far too involved in their own chatter.

  She shifted closer to hear if they would say anything more about the mysterious Draaka.

  ‘Too many people would rather stay ignorant and let the soulweavers rule their lives,’ the taller of the pair sighed. ‘If they would just let go of their prejudices and come to hear the Draaka speak, they would see at once how they have been duped by the Darkfall hags …’

  ‘They will have to hear her soon and that will be all to the good for they must understand where the soulweavers have brought us with their self-serving lies about the old legends. If people are not made to see the truth, eventually the Void will weaken enough for the Unraveller demon to escape and then we will all be doomed.’

  ‘I wish you would not speak of such things when it is dark,’ the other girl shuddered. ‘It is hard to believe your father thinks the Unraveller is some sort of saviour and actually prays for it to come.’

  ‘That is nothing. He even believes the soulweavers’ tale of the wondrous Firstmade, waiting to be released so that it can restore light and hope to the world!’ Both girls laughed.

  ‘That old story. But what do you mean people will have to hear the Draaka?’

  The other girl had a smirk in her voice when she answered. ‘Rann told me the chieftain means to ask the Draaka to address the wing hall when it is next called.’

  ‘Really? There may be trouble, because a lot of the older people feel as my father does, though they do not speak out. They refuse to believe that the Draaka only wants to make sure the Void is not breached. It is wicked that people so misjudge her without even listening to what she has to say.’

 

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