Serrah hadn’t set foot in a temple for years. Not since before she lost Eithne.
Beyond the gates there was a courtyard, the temple itself standing a little further on. The place was busy. Public holidays tended to bring out the spiritual side in many people.
There were several fountains in the courtyard. Armed with a dainty handkerchief supplied by Tanalvah, Serrah washed her hands and face. She wasn’t the only one doing it and nobody paid much attention.
Tanalvah watched her in silence, then said, “Do you believe in meaningful coincidences?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it.”
“I do. I think there are times when the gods place something we need in our path. We just have to recognise it. That’s how I see Kinsel and me coming together, for instance.”
“What’s your point?”
“Meeting you outside this place, amongst all these people, in a city the size of Valdarr; that’s stretching coincidence quite a way, don’t you think?”
“Life’s full of chance meetings and random events.”
“If you choose to look at them that way, yes. But if you see them as signs, opportunities –’
“You think that us bumping into each other was some kind of sign?”
“You must tell me to shut up if I intrude too much. But ever since I first saw you I’ve felt that you carry a great sadness. I thought that even before I knew anything about you. Now that I know a little of your past, I think I can guess what your burden might be.”
Normally, Serrah would have deflected Tanalvah’s concern, but at this moment her words seemed to reach her. That in itself was a wonder to Serrah. She had been thinking about Eithne a lot, the last few days in particular. Her daughter had invaded most of her waking thoughts, and visited in dreams.
“Come in with me,” Tanalvah offered, indicating the temple.
“No, I don’t think –’
“I’ve found that it helps. Let it out to the gods if you can’t do it any other way. If nothing else it might give you a moment of calm.”
For some reason, perhaps because Tanalvah had caught her at a susceptible moment, Serrah heard herself saying, “All right.”
They moved into the temple proper. It was large, with its great hall divided into sections, each devoted to a different god or goddess. They all had their own altar, some elaborate, some plain, with a glamour representation of the deity on a raised dais. The air was cloudy with incense.
“I follow Iparrater,” Tanalvah explained. “I’ve found her a comfort. Do you have a favourite?”
Serrah shook her head.
“My goddess welcomes all who are uncertain or feel lost. You could do worse than unburden yourself to her.”
Serrah shrugged. She reckoned one deity as good as any other, as far as any of them had any worth at all. Instantly she regretted the irreverent thought in such a holy place. That reaction surprised her, too. It was like a throwback to her childhood and the way she was brought up.
Tanalvah made her devotions to Iparrater and knelt to pray.
Serrah felt awkward and simply stood there, staring at the hooded likeness of the goddess.
When Tanalvah finished she rose and went to the little stone oracle at one side of the chapel. She put a coin into the collecting dish and inserted her hand in the augur slot. Unlike the oracle she was used to in Jecellam, this one issued its prophecies on small gold-edged cards. When hers popped out of another slot she read it carefully then slipped it into a pocket.
She realised Serrah was watching her. “Why not ask for guidance?”
“No coins.”
“Here.” Smiling, she handed her one. “It helps to have a question in your mind while you’re doing it.”
“Thanks.”
“You go ahead. I’ll be here when you want me.”
Serrah felt gauche again. She didn’t really know why she was doing this. Nevertheless she dropped her coin into the dish. But she had no idea what question to ask. So she closed her eyes, hoping something would come. It did, immediately. Her question was Will I ever be free of my despair? She put her hand in the slot.
When her card came out, the answer was short and to the point. She stared at it for a long time.
Tanalvah rejoined her, and seeing her expression said, “I don’t know what you asked, but sometimes the answers aren’t what they seem. My own question concerning Kinsel got a rather unclear answer. Often it takes a while to make sense.”
“Yes,” Serrah replied quietly, putting away the card.
She said nothing after that, except to give monosyllabic responses when Tanalvah tried talking to her. It was the same when Kinsel arrived, and all the way back to Karr’s house she remained wrapped up in herself, scarcely uttering a word.
Reeth got to Karr’s hideaway some time after Serrah. He was told that she’d gone to her room and didn’t want to be disturbed.
But he was glad to see that Kutch was there, and well. Karr joined them, and Caldason recounted what had taken place in the records depository.
“They could only have known about the raid if they had inside information,” the patrician concluded. “We know there are informants in our ranks, but this points to a source high up. We’re going to have to look into this, and without delay.”
“But it doesn’t explain my missing file, does it?” Caldason said. “I mean, if they knew we were going to get into the records office –’
“They wouldn’t simply have destroyed your file. They would have been waiting for you inside.”
“Exactly.”
Karr frowned. “I don’t know, Reeth, this goes deeper than I can figure out.”
“Did you tell Reeth about Devlor Bastorran?” Kutch wanted to know.
“What’s that?” Caldason asked.
“The paladin you fought in the back of the wagon,” Karr said. “It was the younger Bastorran, no less, heir apparent to the clans leadership.”
“I’m flattered. He was a damn good fighter, I’ll give him that.”
“He’ll be an even more implacable enemy now, believe me. Apparently he took a harder tumble than you did, but he’ll be mended before long. That’s when you’ll really need to watch your back.” His expression lightened. “Anyway, I think we can judge the mission a success. And your contribution was particularly valuable, Kutch.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“If you’ll excuse me, I’ve things to do,” Karr told them. “Join us up on the roof later and we’ll toast the day’s successes.” He paused at the door. “I have a piece of news for everyone, so be sure to come.”
When he’d left, Reeth said, “He’s right, Kutch; you did well. I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks, Reeth.”
“Why the frown? You should be pleased.”
“I am. It’s just… there’s something I want to tell you about. Well, ask your advice about, really. I’ve wanted to talk to you for several days. This is the first time I’ve seen you alone or when you’ve not been preoccupied by other things.”
“You’ve got my attention now. What is it?”
“It’s to do with spotting, sort of.”
“You know what I feel about magic, and I’m certainly no expert. Maybe you should talk to Phoenix.”
“I will. Though I admit I’ve been putting it off. I’m worried that he’ll stop my training, you see.”
“All right. Whatever it is, get it off your chest.”
“It’s hard to explain. But, a couple of times now when I’ve been practising the spotting, I’ve… seen something.”
“That’s what it’s supposed to be about, isn’t it?”
“No, I don’t mean I saw through the magic. It was more like seeing beyond that. Catching glimpses of… somewhere else.”
Caldason’s interest was whetted. “Tell me about it. As much as you can remember.”
Kutch did.
He had never seen Caldason rattled before. But that was how he seemed now.
> “What is it, Reeth?” he begged. “What’s the matter? Was it something I said?”
“It was everything you said.”
“I don’t understand.”
“What you’ve just told me is something I’m very familiar with.” He stared hard into the boy’s eyes. “Kutch, you’re seeing my dreams.”
“What?”
A scream sounded, somewhere in the house. They leapt to their feet and made for the door. When Caldason pulled it open, Tanalvah was there. She was in a state of distress.
“Quick!” she pleaded. “It’s Serrah! In her room. She…’
Reeth elbowed past her, Kutch at his heels. They dashed the length of the corridor, turned a corner and came to the open door.
Serrah was hanging. The thick rope about her neck was secured to a ceiling beam. There was an overturned chair.
“Her legs!” Reeth yelled. “Hold them up, take her weight!”
Kutch did as he was told. Caldason quickly righted the chair, jumped onto it and slashed through the rope with his knife. Serrah’s body fell, and Kutch struggled until Reeth joined him and took the strain. They laid her on the bed.
“Serrah!” Reeth called, slapping her face. “Serrah!”
Other people came into the room. They heard Tanalvah crying. “I was only trying to help,” she moaned, and Kinsel was comforting her and saying, “You mustn’t blame yourself.”
Reeth was shaking Serrah now as well as slapping her cheeks, and he kept calling her name.
Her eyelids fluttered. She took a rasping breath.
When she opened her eyes and saw Reeth, she whispered, “Bastard.”
Kutch noticed a little gold-edged card on the floor. It had writing on it. He bent and picked it up.
The card read, Not in this life.
That evening they gathered on the flat roof as they said they would, but it was a much more solemn occasion than anyone had expected.
Valdarr was marking Freedom Day with pyro-glamours. The sky hosted starbursts, soaring golden streaks and hovering, multicoloured wheels that gave off enormous silver sparks.
Down below, the records office was still burning, and the fire had taken hold of several adjacent buildings.
“I had hoped this would be a moment to celebrate,” Karr told them. “And we shouldn’t lose sight of the fact that it is, whatever our own concerns and miseries.” He glanced over at Serrah. She sat by herself, staring out at the city. “We struck a blow today. It might seem like only a gnat’s bite on the thick hide of our oppressors, but it was a victory nevertheless.” His gaze moved from Serrah to take in Reeth and Kutch, Tanalvah and Kinsel. “I have news for you.” He paused for effect, ever the theatrical politician. “Our search is over. We’ve finally found the perfect location for the new state. We’re taking the first step in a long journey. It’s not going to be easy. Nor will it be without heartache. But I hope and pray it will lead to a healing.”
There was no great outburst of emotion at his words, no applause or congratulations. Just a quiet acceptance.
Kinsel and Tanalvah sought solace in each other’s eyes. Kutch dwelt on visions of another place. Serrah silently confronted her own demons.
And Reeth Caldason looked to the North.
About the Author
Stan Nicholls is best known for the internationally acclaimed Orcs: First Blood series. His journalism has appeared in Locus, SFX, the Guardian, the Independent, the Daily Mirror, Time Out, Sight and Sound, and Rolling Stone, among many other publications. He currently lives in the West Midlands, U.K., with his wife, the writer Anne Gay.
You can visit his website at www.stannicholls.com.
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