“A water draak named Ba-lee. According to Ni legends, she was supposed to have been the first to serve the Green Ones.”
“Have you ever seen a water draak?”
“A few, but only small ones. You?”
“Only in my dreams. There are no water draak in the Deep. The streams in the marshlands are too shallow for them.”
A few moments of silence passed as Dhal studied the chalk picture. The artist leaned closer, trying to probe beneath the shadow of his hood. “Why do you hide your face?” she asked.
Dhal started to his feet, then out of the corner of his eye he saw several men moving into the artists’ square. One was a guardsman. Dhal lowered himself back down. He swore softly as he glanced around, trying to locate another way out of the garden. When he turned back, he found the chalk artist watching him intently. Almost imperceptibly, she motioned for him to slip behind her and into the bushes.
He did not question the escape route offered, especially since he had no better plan himself. He moved over to sit beside her, then when assured no one was watching, he lay down and quickly rolled under the lower branches of the bushes that circled the square.
The bushes were dense and there was no escaping through them, so he found a small, open space deep within the growth and lay quietly. A few moments later he heard the chalk artist begin to sing.
Chapter 14
IT WAS NEARING THE SUPPER HOUR. DHAL HAD DRIFTED OFF TO sleep. A hand gently squeezed his leg, waking him. “It’s time to go.”
It took him a moment or two to remember where he was. Then he glanced at the chalk-smeared fingers on his leg and the day’s events came rushing back. “All clear?” he whispered.
“Yes, for the moment,” the woman replied. “Come out and we’ll leave the gardens together. If the guards look for one alone, they may overlook two together.”
As he stood up, she handed him her pouch full of chalks. “Here, you carry this. It may help to disguise you. By the way, my name is Pocalina-fel-Jamba. My friends call me Poco.”
She looked at Dhal expectantly, her eyes on a level with his. He realized that she wanted his name. “I’m called Dhal.”
“Doll?” she asked, making a rocking motion with her arms.
He grinned and corrected her, spelling out his name. “No. D-H-A-L.”
“All right, Dhal, let’s go.”
As they passed down the stone walkway, he tried to thank her for her help. “Not many would have done what you did for a stranger, fel-Jamba.”
The woman shrugged. “Perhaps not; one never knows.”
“Why did you?” he asked bluntly.
The daughter of Jamba hesitated, then replied. “There are several reasons. One being the honest fact that I don’t like the Guard. None of us do. They represent authority without a conscience. They harass us, they levy fines if we’re found in Upper Bhalvar too early or too late, and they are quick to punish without trial or hearing. We of Lower Bhalvar have learned to tread lightly when the Guard appear. We’ve also formed a pact to look after each other or any who fall prey to the Guard and their cruel games.”
As they moved out of the garden, Poco turned and looked at Dhal. “Hungry?”
“Yes.”
“Well, we’ll find a—” Suddenly Poco threw an arm across his shoulder and smiled at him, whispering quickly. “Pretend we’re good friends. Guards ahead!”
Dhal saw the two men standing outside the entrance to the gardens and felt shivers run up his spine. Poco started to talk about her pictures and the parkgoers that day and about anything else that came to mind as they walked past the guardsmen. A Few minutes later she turned into a small side street. Slipping her arm free, she grinned. “Way free. Come.”
“Come where?”
“Down. Once past the middle towers we should be safe for a while.”
Falling into step beside the singer, he asked, “Poco, you haven’t asked me why I hide from the Guard. Aren’t you curious?”
She laughed. “Yes, I’m curious, but while you’ve been sleeping, I’ve been listening, and I think I know why you were running.” When he failed to respond, she continued. “According to the rumor I heard this afternoon, there’s a Ni running loose in the city, a killer by all reports. It’s said that he arrived by boat this morning and with him two others, a boy and a man. With your face hidden in that hood, you might be any one of the three.”
Dhal glanced at his companion but found her eyes straight ahead as they walked. “None of the three have been caught?” he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.
“Not the last I heard. Look, the towers!”
The stairway down to Lower Bhalvar was alive with tradesmen making their way home after a successful day in the upper city. Five or six guards watched the flow of sellers, but none took interest in the pair of chalk artists that kept to the center of the wide stairway.
At the next level Poco steered Dhal off to the left down a narrow street that wound north, then down another side street, heading east. She stopped when they came to another set of stairs leading down. They were quite alone.
“I think we should talk before we go any farther,” she said.
“What do you want to talk about?”
“You,” Poco replied. There was a tremor of excitement in her voice, though she tried to hide it. “Are you the Ni they search for, or only friend to him?”
Dhal hadn’t expected so direct a question. He hesitated.
“I admit that I am one of the three,” he finally answered. “I ask that you take it no further.”
“Fair enough… for the moment. Next question. Where do you want to go? Did you come to Upper Bhalvar for a reason or by mistake?”
“I was being chased. I had no choice in the matter. As for where I want to go, I want to return to the docks to look for my friends.”
“Possible, Dhal, but not very wise. The Guard will be watching the docks and all strangers will be stopped. If your friends have their wits about them, they’ll stay away from the docks.”
“Even after dark?”
“Even then.”
“Have you any suggestions to make?”
“Several,” she answered promptly, “if you will trust me.”
“Trust you how?”
Pocalina looked into the shadow of his hood, her gaze never wavering as she answered. “I know a place where I’m sure you’ll be safe from the Port Guard. I can take you there, then go to the docks myself and look for your friends.”
Dhal shook his head, incredulous. “You would do this for me, a stranger to you?”
“Why not? I’ve told you how we all feel about the Guard. Are you afraid I will betray you?” There was silence then. “Yes, I think you are, and I can’t really blame you. Well then, where do we go from here? To the docks?”
“Yes. I think it best for now.”
Poco nodded silently. Turning, she led the way down the narrow lane to the stairs. The shadows were growing long, arching out over the streets. Fifteen minutes later she announced that they were on the lowest tier, two streets west of the main dockside marketplace. There was still some activity in and about the selling stalls, but most of the buyers were packing their goods to return home. All the fish booths were closed, as were most of the fruit and vegetable stalls.
Pocalina pointed out six guards loitering on the fringe of the marketplace. “They work in pairs for their own protection. It’s unusual for so many to be here this time of day. It doesn’t look good for your friends.”
Silently, Dhalvad agreed.
“Dhal, I think it would be wise for you to reconsider my offer,” Poco said softly. “Let me find you a safe place to stay, then I can come back and look for your friends. If they haven’t been taken already, I’m sure I can find them. Trust me?”
It did not look as if he had much of a choice. The six guards were not the first he had seen—he had counted ten others in a space of fifteen minutes. “All right, Poco. Your way.”
An hour lat
er he found himself on the other side of the river Argan, three levels above the docks and still climbing. As they climbed, they talked. Remembering Efan’s hopes of finding his father’s friend, he told Poco about Donar sar Frenzel.
Poco had heard the name and thought the man would not be too hard to track down. As they cleared the last steps on the fourth stairway, Dhal looked to the west where Ra-gar was falling into the sea. “It will be dark by the time you get back to the docks,” he said, thinking how little he would care to thread such a winding maze at night.
“Do you worry about me?” Poco asked, surprised.
“Shouldn’t I?”
“No. Port Bhalvar is my home. I know it well and have friends in many places. Don’t be afraid for me. Come, we still have a ways to go.”
“More stairs?”
“No, this is the last tier before reaching Upper Bhalvar. This section of the city is older than the rest and many of the buildings have long been abandoned. I used to live here before I started working as a chalk artist, and every once in a while I come back to visit some old friends.”
Poco led Dhal around and over a maze of jumbled rock where buildings were fast becoming engulfed in a wild growth of tree and vine. At last they came to a row of stone buildings that were partially standing. Some had collapsed roofs, most were without windows and doors.
Stopping at a cavelike opening, Poco indicated that they now went down. After descending into the dark about ten steps, Poco paused at a wooden door. “In here lives a very special friend, Dhal. He may be home. He may not. Whatever you do, don’t act surprised and don’t make any quick moves. Understood?”
Dhal nodded, hoping that all of this was not some elaborate plot to trap him.
Poco knocked, then slowly pushed the door open. Dhal stood quietly in the doorway, listening to her move around the dark room. A few seconds later there was a spark of light. Poco was squatting in front of a cooking pit, touching a match to some dry tinder.
As the flame caught, she turned and waved him into the room. “It isn’t much, but Screech has made it his home.”
“Screech?” Dhal repeated.
Picking up a branch from the fire, Poco crossed over to the table and lighted a candle that stood in a niche in the wall. As the light chased the shadows back, she turned and went to rummage through a box cupboard behind the door.
“His real name is Ssaal-lr but I call him Screech because of the awful noise he makes when he’s angry.” She shrugged. “It looks as if he’s gone wandering again. Nothing much to eat here. Salt, a few bites of dried fruit, a handful of tea leaves, and a box of spice. I’ll have to bring something when I come back. I hope you can wait to eat.”
“I can wait,” he assured her. “How long do you think you’ll be gone?”
“I’m not sure. Much will depend upon luck and how well your friends have hidden themselves from the Guard.”
He looked around the room. “What if your friend returns?”
“From the looks of things, Screech has been gone some time. Like most of his kind, he’s a hunter. He likes to prowl the wildlands to the north. It wouldn’t surprise me to learn one day that he’s ranged as far north as the Mountains of the Lost.”
“What do you mean by ‘his kind’?”
A half smile touched Poco’s lips. “Friend Dhal, have you ever seen a derkat?”
“No, but I’ve heard of them. Furred creatures with long tails and large eyes. Less than man, more than beast.”
“A good description though somewhat inaccurate. I myself have found Ssaal-lr more man than beast, but there are many who would glady argue that point with me. I met Screech five years ago, up here in this crumbling section of buildings. At that time I was still using this place as my home. It was all I could afford. One day, while I was out picking up wood for my fire, I heard the rumble of falling rock followed by a strange, screaming cry. To make a long story short, I found Ssaal-lr half buried by a partially collapsed wall. He was hurt and unconscious. You can imagine how nervous I was at first, never having seen a derkat before, but he was unconscious and offering me no harm so finally I began digging him out. Once clear of the rock I carried him back here.”
“Carried? I thought they were large animals.”
“Not animals!” Poco shot back instantly. Then, she shrugged. “Sorry, I just don’t like to hear them called animals. Anyway, I could carry Screech because he was only half his adult weight. He had been half starved by the trader who had hoped to sell him in the exotic animals market. Somehow Ssaal-lr had managed to escape the trader’s ship after docking and had made his way into the middle tiers where there was some cover. It took me five weeks to get him back on his feet, and during that time we learned a lot about each other. Screech told me about his home and family and he—”
“The derkat can speak?” Dhal asked, surprised by the thought of communicating with such supposedly dangerous animals.
“Yes and no,” she answered. “They don’t speak as you and I are right now. Something about the position of their tongue prevents that, I think, but they can communicate by a type of sign language and certain noises.”
“Does this Ssaal-lr understand you when you speak?”
“He didn’t at first, but he does now, at least most of what I say.” Poco moved toward the door. “Well, time for talking later. Let me see what I can do about finding your friends for you. And I’ll bring some food back when I return.” She paused and turned on the first step leading out of the cellar. “One more thing. Earlier you asked me why I chose to help you and I said it was because of the Guard. That was true. But there is one other reason. My father was Ni. I am half-blood.”
Startled, Dhal stood silently as Poco ascended the steps and disappeared into the murky twilight above. Half-blood Ni? She doesn’t look it, he thought, yet why would she claim it if it were not true? Was it possible that she had lied just to make sure he would stay where she had left him?
Fearing to fully trust Pocalina-fel-Jamba, Dhal spent the night huddled in a narrow covert between a line of bushes and a stone wall that had once been the south side of a building. Wrapped in a blanket he had taken from the cellar, he watched the rubble-filled street before the cellar entrance, waiting for the trap to spring shut.
But his vigil went unrewarded. Morning arrived and Pocalina had not returned. The growing feeling that he could trust the chalk artist gave him courage to return to the cellar. Had she planned to betray him, he reasoned, surely the Port Guard would have been there already. He went directly to the pallet of straw and grass. Sleep came quickly.
The smell of meat cooking nudged Dhal awake, but when he opened his eyes, the room was empty.
“Poco?”
The silence made him freeze, his hand going to his belt sheath. But his knife was gone! He was sure he had not taken the knife from its case before lying down. His eyes were drawn to the fire. The coals at the edge of the pit were glowing red. Hanging on a spit over the fire was the carcass of a nida, a small, tailless dog.
Sitting up, Dhal quickly glanced around the cellar. But all was quiet and he was alone—or so he thought until he saw a shadowed form sitting on the floor just beyond the table and chairs.
Slowly Dhal untangled his legs from the blanket. “Poco? That you?”
He froze as the shadow moved. Suddenly eyes appeared within the shadow, like two beacons of yellow light. He had never seen such eyes before. They were huge, at least twice the size of a man’s eyes, and as round as the twin suns.
In one fluid movement the shadow form stood and stepped into the firelight, revealing the coat of short, gray fur that covered it from head to toes. Derkat! Poco’s friend, Screech. It had to be him!
As Dhal looked up at the derkat he was of two minds. One half told him to run for the door, while the other half kept reminding him that this creature was Poco’s friend and, therefore, not an enemy.
Slowly he pushed to his knees. The derkat took another step closer, placing himself directly betw
een Dhalvad and the doorway. You don’t need to speak to make your thoughts known, Dhal thought. Am I your captive then? Do you see me as an intruder, or are you just curious about my presence?
He remembered that Poco had claimed that the derkat understood man speech. It was worth a try. He had no wish to tangle with this taller-than-man creature whose raking claws could disembowel a man in a single stroke.
“Poco said that she had a friend named Ssaal-lr,” he began, keeping his voice low and enunciating each word carefully. “Are you Ssaal-lr?”
A low rumble came from the derkat’s throat. Dhal took a deep breath and tried again, pausing carefully between each sentence. “Poco brought me here to wait. She said I would be safe from the Port Guard. She went to look for my friends. Understand?
Again that rumbling sound.
Now what? Dhal thought. Gazing deep into the derkat’s eyes, he wondered about Poco’s claim that the derkat was more man than beast. Was it only wishful thinking on her part?
The derkat’s face was long, his two fur-tufted ears set high and back on either side of his head. The fur around his eyes fluffed outward, dark gray overlain by lighter gray, and came to a point just over his mouth. If there was a nose it was lost in fur. The skin of the derkat’s lips was black and smooth and showed clearly; Dhal saw a glint of white teeth and remembered the story he had once heard about a derkat that had hunted men instead of its usual prey.
Deciding he would be much safer waiting outside for Poco, Dhal took a step to the right. Then another. At his third step, the derkat moved to intercept him, the four-fingered hand clamping down around Dhal’s wrist.
Instinctively Dhal pulled back. The derkat growled deep in its throat. Heart racing, Dhal stepped to the side, trying to twist his arm from the creature’s grasp. “Let go,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm.
The derkat did not respond as he had hoped. He was jerked to the side, and before he could recover his balnce, Ssaal-lr was behind him, clamping a long arm over Dhal’s shoulder and across his chest. Crushed up against the derkat’s body, Dhal was held immobile. The rumbling sound in his ear grew monstrous.
Where The Ni-Lach Page 13