by P. D. Kalnay
Falan hesitated for a moment before following me.
I’d used wind magic and my wings to land gently, but Falan cried out in pain and fell to one knee when he landed beside me. A ten foot drop seemed like nothing now, but the old, wingless Jack wouldn’t have made that jump without hanging from the window ledge first. I pulled Falan to his feet and lent my shoulder, half dragging him up the side street and away from the shouting and the howls.
“Left,” Falan said, at the next intersection.
I took him left and then followed his instructions as we made a circuitous escape from the city guard. Nobody else jumped from the window, and those seconds of head start made the difference. The guildhall was on the border of the Valaneese Quarter, and after we’d gone a few blocks, we reached streets Falan was familiar with. I supported him as best as I could. Falan was clearly in a lot of pain.
“Leave me.” he said. “I’m slowing you.”
“That won’t happen. Even if I was a big enough jerk to abandon you, I don’t know my way back, or where we are.”
We’d taken countless twists and turns down alleys to confuse pursuit. Falan pointed a short way up the alley from where we’d stopped.
“That’s the back of Sharra’s family’s shop,” he said. “Do you remember how to return to The Hanging Garden from here?”
I did, now that I had the reference.
“I’m not leaving you.”
“I’ve broken my leg, and the pain is getting worse. You are easy to recognise. Speed is your only hope of escape! Alone, I have a better chance of avoiding notice than I do with you. I’m just another Valaneese on the streets of Gaan.”
“Forget it!” I shouted before realising that our voices had reached a foolish volume.
“Falan?” Sharra Finar’s head poked out of a doorway. “I thought I recognised your voice. What are you doing back here?”
“Running from the city guard. You must go back inside and forget you saw us.”
She ignored Falan’s instructions and came over to us instead.
“Are you injured?” she asked.
“I hurt my leg,” Falan said. “It’s nothing; go back inside before someone sees you with us.”
“No one will see us. You must come inside, so I can care for you.”
“No.” Falan said. “We’ve just broken into the Mercantile Guildhall and taken something from the guild master himself. You can’t let yourself be seen with us.”
“I don’t care. I will help you!”
“What of your family?” Falan asked. “Will you put them at risk?”
“I won’t tell them, but you’re right. It’s too dangerous to bring you inside. We must find you a healer.”
“We need to get you back to The Hanging Garden,” I said. “Ivy can help you. She’s knows lots about healing people.”
“We’ll never make it that far. The search will spread here sooner than later, and your wings are like a banner announcing you,” Falan said.
“Wait here,” Sharra said. “I’ll be back shortly.”
“Sharra, no…”
Once again she ignored Falan’s protests and disappeared into the building beside us. A few minutes later, Sharra drove a large open cart down the alley. The tired looking creature pulling it was the size of an ox, but in no way resembled one. The animal looked like an oversized long-nosed gerbil—if gerbils came with black and violet spotted fur and weighed a metric tonne.
“Get in and under the tarp,” Sharra said.
“Too dangerous,” Falan said.
“The longer you dally, the greater my danger.”
Falan looked torn between the logic of her argument and his worry over involving her, but waiting around was the biggest risk. I helped him up onto the back of the cart and lay next to him before pulling up the tarp. The two of us made a tight fit in the narrow cart, thanks to my wings. Sharra adjusted the tarp and then we were off again. The ride was slow, bumpy, and hot. The cart animal may have looked gerbil-like, but it plodded along the streets of Gaan at an unhurried pace. It took hours to make it back to the inn. Sharra stopped several times and spoke to people she knew along the way. She had nerves of steel, and if she was the least bit nervous about helping us escape, it didn’t show.
***
Eventually, we came to a stop, and I heard Sharra climb from the cart; followed by knocking and quiet conversation.
“We’re at the side entrance,” she said, as she tugged off the tarp. “You must get inside quickly.”
She didn’t have to tell me twice. The cart was in an alley barely wide enough to let it pass. There was street at one end and weedy riverbank at the other. A small door stood open beside us. Marak stood in the doorway, and she moved aside to let us in before closing the door again. We entered a wide room supported by thick columns and filled with shelves and barrels on the one side and a kitchen on the other. I’d never gone down to the working parts of the inn.
“Sharra,” Falan said, “you must go, so you aren’t connected to us in any way.”
“Are you sure there is nothing more I can do?”
“You’ve already done too much,” Falan said.
“Very well. Goodbye.” Sharra only hesitated for a second before letting herself out the side door.
“Would you get Princess Ivangelain?” I asked Marak.
“No need for that,” Erialain said.
She led Ivy down the central stairs. The roots of the inn’s huge tree spread between the steps in a knotty mass.
“Jack, what’s going on?” Ivy asked. “Are you well?”
“I’m fine, but Falan is hurt. Can you heal him?”
“I shall do it,” Erialain said. “Sit here on this bench, lad.”
Falan sat, and Erialain knelt in front of him. Her hands probed his lower leg.
“The bone is broken in three places. Marak, bring him a wooden spoon. Now lad, bite down—this will be painful.”
Falan took the long spoon from Marak and put the handle between his teeth. Then Erialain hummed a soft tune and set the bones in his leg. I heard the wooden spoon crack under the strain. Falan took it like a trooper otherwise, and after a time, Erialain slowly stood.
“The bone will mend within a week’s time. You mustn’t put heavy strain on the leg for several days.”
“Thank you,” Falan said.
“How was he injured?” Ivy asked me.
“Why didn’t you enter through the main doors?” Erialain added.
“Well…”
“Jack, what have you done?” Ivy’s hands were on her hips. It shouldn’t have been possible for her to glare down at me, but she made it work.
“Why do you assume I did something?” I asked.
“Jack?”
I held up the sword, “I sensed this in a building we were walking by, so I went in to get it.”
“Is that the stolen sword?” Ivy asked.
“Yeah, it was partly my fault, so…”
Erialain and Falan wore matching looks of confusion.
“The first day when we visited the bazaar, Marhrl tried to sell me this. I told him that Marielain Blackhammer forged it, and he was killed shortly after in a riot. Ivy said this is worth a small fortune and that the riot was likely staged to cover up the theft of the sword. So when I sensed it nearby…”
“If you found the thieves, why did you sneak in here?” Ivy asked. “And why do you have the sword?”
“Well, I found the sword, but when I told the guards to arrest the guy who had it…”
“Who had the sword?” Erialain asked.
“The guild master of the mercantile guild–” A knock at the side door interrupted Falan.
I half drew the sword before Erialain spoke, “Marak, open the door.”
Marak threw back a heavy bolt letting in Captain Danar.
“Father!”
“Sharra Finar told me you were here.” Captain Danar was out of breath. “What trouble have you gotten yourself into?”
“It
was my fault,” I said. “Falan just tried to help out.”
“Tell it from the beginning,” Ivy suggested.
I started from meeting Marhrl, and how we’d learned of the riot that followed. Then I explained how Marhrl’s death had been my fault and the events at the guildhall.
“What were you thinking?” the captain asked his son.
“You instructed me to watch over Prince Jakalain while he was in the city,” Falan said. “Four of the guard surrounded him, so I improvised.”
“And what made you think he needed your help?”
“Father?”
“He slew a kraken, boy, and killed an entire Clan in Havensport… There’s nothing for it, you must leave Gaan. There’s a chance a guardsman will recognise you on the street, and with the guild master’s connections, the search will be extensive.” He looked to Ivy and I. “You must go at once. It won’t take long for them to track down a half-breed fae. Unless, you plan to battle the entire city guard?”
“How many are there?” I asked.
“Jack!”
“Ten thousand in the main garrison alone,” Erialain said.
“We should probably move on then.” I turned to a super annoyed looking Ivy. “We intended leave in a few days, anyway.”
Ivy just shook her head and frowned at me.
“I’ll see about finding you a berth on an outgoing ship,” Captain Danar told his son.
“Father?”
“What?”
“I should go with Prince Jakalain and Princess Ivangelain.” Falan pushed on quickly to override the immediate objection spreading across his father’s face. “We must all leave the city, they have little experience at sea, and I’m a qualified pilot. You know how difficult it will be for them to sail with a crew of two. Do they even know the basics of navigation?”
“Boy–”
“You planned to accompany them yourself for those very reasons didn’t you?”
That was news to me.
“I planned to broach the subject,” the captain admitted. “You may be too smart for your own good.”
“I’m the logical choice. I need to leave the city, and I have no family relying on me…”
“It’s too dangerous,” Captain Danar said, but he sounded half convinced.
Falan turned to me with an earnest expression.
“Prince Jakalain, if you sail with a crew of two, then one of you must man the tiller while the other sleeps, working night and day. Alternately, you must hug the coastline and make landfall each night to rest, making the journey far more dangerous, especially considering the dark places you will pass. With another hand, there will be less need to make landfall and greater speed will be possible.”
“Too dangerous,” Captain Danar repeated.
“I don’t know where we’ll end up,” I said. “But your father is right—it will be dangerous.”
“Falan makes sound arguments,” Ivy said. “Captain Danar, did you plan to make such a suggestion?”
“I did, Princess. You have both learned something of seamanship, but…”
“Not enough,” Ivy finished.
He shook his head.
“You think it’s a good idea?” I asked Ivy.
“I think it prudent,” she said. “I had concerns. If Falan is willing, then all that remains is to agree upon compensation.”
“Compensation?”
“I don’t imagine Captain Danar planned to join us out of the goodness of his heart,” Ivy said. The captain shrugged. “We shall compensate Falan for the danger and make a pact.”
“You’d be wiser to finalise those details once you’re free of the city,” Erialain said. “The guard will soon track you here.”
“I wanted to buy more food,” I said, “and other supplies.”
“Taken care of,” Captain Danar said. “I expected I might join you and have gathered additional stores.”
“Thanks, then I guess we should grab our stuff and go.”
“We’ll meet you at our compound,” Captain Danar said, “but first I require an oath.”
“An oath?”
“Swear that you will protect my son, as you would Princess Ivangelain, for as long as you travel together.”
“Father! I’m not a child.”
“You are my child.”
“I swear it,” I said. “You have my word.”
“Then, we’ll see you shortly.”
Falan left, leaning on his father’s shoulder.
“I knew I shouldn’t let you wander the city,” Ivy said. “Now, I won’t even have time for a last meal.”
“Thanks for holding in the I-told-you-so.”
“I wish you a safe and prosperous voyage,” Erialain said.
“Hey, don’t we owe you for the room?” I asked.
“No. I can never repay my debt as it stands. Marak, pack a final meal for our guests.” She set a hand on my shoulder. “Remember that my time grows short.”
Chapter 16 – A Binding Pact
Ivy and I had little in the way of personal effects and were heading to the Danar property in a matter of minutes. She gave The Hanging Garden a last wistful glance before it disappeared around a bend in the road. The lady working in the front of the Danar shop waved us through, and we found the captain and Falan waiting next to the boat. The volume of supplies inside looked to have doubled.
“How much do we owe you?” I asked, as I examined the sacks, casks, and boxes.
“Five gold leafs,” he said. When I reached into my tunic, he raised a hand and continued. “I won’t accept it now. Send the coin home with my son.”
“Thanks for the help.”
“Be careful, boy,” he told Falan.
“I will, Father,” Falan promised as he untied the front of the boat.
Captain Danar towed us out of the watery yard and back up the narrow channel leading to the river without saying another word. The gates opened as we approached and Falan threw his father the line at the last instant, adding an enthusiastic grin and a wave goodbye. Then we were out and back on the river. Falan put oars in oarlocks and rowed us away from the shore. I activated two sets of symbols on the pump. After ten minutes of rowing, Falan took a breather.
“Prince Jakalain,” he said. “Your boat is amazingly smooth on the water. I’ve never had such easy rowing.”
“Your father didn’t tell you about the boat?”
“Tell me what?” Falan asked.
“It has enchantments that push it through the water, but he said not to use them where others can see. I’ve kept it slow so as not to draw notice. You don’t have to pull; as long as one of us is at the oars, moving them around, it’ll be enough.”
“The winds are right to sail now, anyway,” Falan said. “Will your enchantments work with the sail?”
“Yeah, but if we go too fast, the sail will act as a break and fill in the wrong direction.”
“How fast can your boat move?” Falan asked.
“Distressingly fast,” Ivy said.
“I’d like to see that,” Falan said.
I returned his grin, “We’ll wait until were out at sea.”
***
We travelled the river Aan without incident, sailing southward across while wind and sluggish current carried us eastward toward the sea. As the southern half of the city of Gaan loomed larger, I discovered it had little in common with the part we’d left behind. While southern Gaan also contained towering, ornate structures, none appeared whole. It reminded me of Havensport—minus the char and a hundred times larger. Jungle overran large sections, trees grew right down to the riverbank, and vines smothered the bones of a once mighty city. The Anubeans had maintained the north bank, but southern Gaan had spent the millennia since the Empire fell being devoured by jungle. The setting sun created countless dark shadows, making it look extra spooky.
“Move no closer to the shoreline, Prince Jakalain,” Falan said.
I shifted the tiller, turning us parallel with the river bank.
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“Are there rocks?” I asked.
“No, but the remains of old footings lay just under the water, and the folk living in the city are best avoided.”
“Somebody lives there?”
“Many eyes are watching us,” Ivy said.
She’d made a nest from extra sailcloth in the middle of the boat, behind the mast, and had pulled more over herself to protect from the spray. Falan rode up front in the prow now that we’d finished with rowing and had unfurled the sail. I was trying to get in all the easy sailing practice I could before we returned to the open sea. With Falan’s help I determined that three activated symbols on the pump provided just the right amount of thrust to overcome the boat’s water resistance while still letting it sail naturally. He said no one would notice the enchantments with brief observation, but that it would still double our speed.
“That’s super spooky,” I said.
“Much of the northern empire is in ruin a few steps away from the trade routes,” Falan said. “The entire south is like that. Only the route from Sho to Anukdun remains open now.”
“Have you travelled to Sho?” Ivy asked.
“No, Princess, but my father did once. He said the upper capitol is remarkably preserved, but almost empty. Although the mighty walls of Sho still hold back the jungle, Anube only makes use of a tiny part of the city. It’s a long way to travel for sightseeing and little profit; the southern gates only open for the caravans.”
***
It took the remaining daylight hours to sail free from the mouth of the river and leave behind the ruins of southern Gaan. Falan took the tiller when we hit the first chop and he piloted us out to sea under a starry and cloudless sky. The stars at Glastonbury Manor had been bright with no neighbours or light pollution. The night sky of the First World made those stars seem tawdry by comparison. Many of the individual stars were larger than any I’d seen on Earth, and multi-coloured nebula spanned the twinkling dome above us, filling it with a backdrop of reds, blues, and violets. The three moons were just slivers on the southern horizon, leaving the rest of the night sky an opportunity to shine. I spent no time appreciating the heavens above Knight’s Haven, and our voyage aboard the Starburst was busy and cloud-covered. Ivy sat next to me, on the front bench, holding my hand.