The Jasper Forest

by Julia Gray

  For a moment, Terrel expected her to be terrified by Elam's ghost, but it was soon obvious that the other boy was completely invisible to her. She smiled at Terrel, and said something quietly to him. He wanted to respond, but knew she wouldn't understand anything he said, so remained silent — though he returned her smile. Apparently satisfied, Ysatel turned and went back to her family, leaving her patient in near darkness again.

  I'm glad I didn't see you when you were looking bad, Elam remarked.

  What do you mean?

  She told you you were looking much better than before.

  You understood what she said? Terrel exclaimed in astonishment.

  More or less. I got the sense of it, anyway. You could too if you weren 't so pure and principled. What do you mean?

  She's got to think something before she says it. Elam pointed out. So why don't you use psinoma? Look inside her head.

  But that's—

  No, it's not, Elam cut in, anticipating his friend's objection. She's trying to say something to you. How can that be private? She wants you to know what she's thinking.

  This argument had little effect on Terrel. All his instincts told him that it would be wrong, and he remembered Alyssa telling him that all magic exacts a price. What he had to do was decide whether, on this occasion, it was a price worth paying. I don't think I can, he said.

  That's what you said to Babak, Elam countered. But you were able to use the glamour, weren't you? And you talk

  to us using psinoma all the time now. Why not with her?

  It's not the same. Terrel recalled a similar argument with Babak, his tutor in such things, about using psinoma - 'invisible words' — to transfer thoughts directly between minds. His objection had been to the fact that, if you had sufficient talent, it was possible to use the technique without the other person even being aware of what was happening - and Terrel had believed this to be both wrong and dangerous. On the other hand, he longed to be able to talk to Ysatel and the other villagers, and so - for the moment - he set aside the moral arguments and concentrated on practical issues.

  But when I talk to you, we 're using the same language, he pointed out. Their words aren 't the same.

  You got on all right with the elemental, Elam said. What language did it use?

  Terrel had to think about this.

  That wasn't like an ordinary conversation, he replied eventually. It was more like simply knowing what—

  Well, this is just an extension of that, Elam interrupted.

  It may not be perfect, but you'll get by. And if you're not too squeamish about it, you'll soon get to learn their language.

  Then you can be a proper gentleman and talk to them out loud.

  His friend's mildly sarcastic tone needled Terrel, but he did not respond. He was considering the fact that Tsatel had sometimes seemed to know what he was thinking — and that perhaps he could use the connection in the same way.

  Although it still seemed like prying, being able to communicate with his hosts would make his situation so much easier.

  Do you think I should try this, Alyssa?

  The dog, who had apparently fallen asleep soon after Ysatel's visit, opened one eye and looked at him solemnly.

  You 're the only one who can choose which doors to open, she said. And which to go through. If you have motive and means, and one is good and one is bad, what does that make the action?

  Moons! Elam hissed in exasperation. Stop talking in riddles. I'm trying to help.

  Terrel is good at solving riddles, she responded calmly. Let him decide for himself.

  Call her, Elam urged. Call Ysatel in here and try it. Not yet, Terrel said. I have to think about this. The ghost threw up transparent hands in frustration.

  Have it your own way, he muttered. I suppose you're too principled to want me to tell you what else I've overheard. Like what?

  They think you 're a sorcerer. Even your friends are suspicious.

  Why would they think that?

  Well, first of all you 've tamed this lovely hound — his name's Scar, by the way - and no one, except somebody called Cutter, has been able to do that before. Of course, that was nothing to do with you, really, but they don't know that, do they? How could they? I don't suppose they have too many sleepers round here.

  That's hardly enough to make me a sorcerer, Terrel said, still bewildered.

  Then there's your eyes, of course, Elam went on, and the fact that you speak a different language. And they're puzzled by the way you got here. I don't understand that bit. But the main thing is that some of them think you caused an earthquake.

  Caused? Terrel exclaimed in horror. How could — I was trying to warn them.

  Just knowing it was coming was a kind of magic, Elam said. Not exactly a common talent, is it?

  The arguments that had raged about Terrel at the gatherings, and the hostility he had felt, made sense to him now. What was more, such understanding might help him try to put things right — if only he could learn to talk to the villagers. Then he could convince them that he meant no harm, that he had wanted to help them. A good end, it seemed, might justify bad means.

  He was about to call out to Ysatel, but realized that all was now quiet in the next room, and decided to leave his first attempts till the morning. She would not thank him for disturbing her rest.

  I think you should try to talk to them, don't you? Elam said, echoing Terrel's thoughts. Or this could get very complicated.

  You mean it isn't already?

  Point taken.

  When are Shahan and Muzeni going to come and see me?

  I don't know. I normally have to tag along with them, listening to their endless arguments — hut they 've got a lot to do at the moment, which is why I was able to slip away and follow Alyssa.

  I'm glad you did, Terrel said. It's good to see you. What are they up to?

  Elam hesitated before he answered, and the dog gave a sort of snuffling growl.

  Oh, the usual stuff, Elam answered with elaborate nonchalance. You know, poring over ancient hooks.

  The Code?

  Elam shrugged non-existent shoulders. Probably.

  I bet they 're annoyed that the seers are taking all the credit for averting disaster, Terrel probed gently.

  Not all the credit. Jax is the one who's being treated like a hero.

  Jax? The Emperor's son?

  The prince has now been officially hailed as the Guardian. But I thought—

  The dog growled in earnest this time, and for a moment Terrel wondered if Alyssa had gone and it was Scar who was curled up next to him. But then he realized that she wouldn't leave without any warning, and told himself not to be so silly.

  What's the matter? he asked.

  You 're walking into a dangerous room, she replied, but he had the feeling that she was talking to Elam, not to him.

  Don't you think— Elam began.

  That's not for us to decide, Alyssa declared, overriding him sharply.

  What's going on? Terrel asked.

  Elam looked away, his evasiveness quite out of character.

  I'm not supposed ... he muttered. I've said too much already.

  Fragments of memory stirred in Terrel's mind. It had been the enchanter — the malevolent presence who had plagued his dreams — who was supposed to have become a hero. The enchanter, whom he had glimpsed only once from a distance, but whose taunting voice was so familiar, had been his go-between, allowing Terrel to make a

  bargain between the Seers' Council and the elemental. And it was the enchanter who had signed the mocking letter that had sent Terrel into exile, a letter that had ended, 'Farewell, brother'. And Terrel's recurring nightmare, the thunderous ocean of red pain, had been an echo of a time before he had been born, when he had been blind and hidden - but not alone.

  But now it seemed that Prince Jax was the hero. Did that mean he was the enchanter? If he was, then that meant. . . Terrel's mind balked at the logical conclusion. No, it wasn't possible. And yet
. . .

  He came out of his reverie to see Elam's spectral image flicker.

  Don't go! Don't! It was half demand, half despairing plea.

  It's not always my choice, you know, Elam replied plaintively - and then he was gone, vanished into his own world, around the corner that his friend could never turn. Elam! Come back! Terrel gasped, though he knew it was hopeless.

  Where are the others? I have to talk to them. There was no response and, angry now as well as confused, Terrel turned to Alyssa, his last hope.

  The dog appeared to be sound asleep, and could not be roused. If Alyssa was still inhabiting Cutter's hound, she was either deeply unconscious or pretending to be so. Either way, Terrel knew he'd get no answer to his questions now.

  What was worse, he believed that she'd had something to do with Elam's importunate departure. In some things, it seemed, he could not even trust his closest friends.

  Chapter Eight

  When Terrel woke the next morning, he knew immediately from the quiet stillness around him that he was alone in the hut. Ysatel and her family had gone and so — to his dismay - had Alyssa. He had no idea at what point the dog had left, but the fact that Alyssa had felt it neces-sary to do so by stealth made his heart sink. On reflection, he found that he was not really surprised that she had gone, only disappointed — and another layer of regret was added to the sense of betrayal he'd felt after Elam's departure. He had often thought that Muzeni and Shahan - two seers from different centuries who had formed a ghostly alliance - might be hiding things from him, but discovering that both Alyssa and Elam were also part of the conspiracy made him feel both hurt and dejected.

  It had taken Terrel a long time to get to sleep. This was not only because he'd been listening in the darkness for any sign that the dog might be stirring, but also because of the extraordinary number of new ideas and suspicions that were swirling about inside his head. And, if he was honest, he had also been afraid of what his dreams might bring. Eventually, however, exhaustion had overcome both frustration and fear, and the next thing he'd been aware of was the empty silence of a new day.

  The only small mercy was that he remembered nothing of his dreams, but that still left him with more than enough to think about. Pushing aside his wilder speculations, he told himself that he would just have to wait until Alyssa and the ghosts returned. He was determined that the next time he saw Muzeni and Shahan he would not let them evade his questions. He would get some answers -

  or they could forget about any cooperation from him. A small, treacherous voice at the back of his mind whispered that getting answers out of the seers was sometimes like drawing blood from a stone, but that did not affect his resolve. The only problem was that he had no idea when he would get the chance to try. Alyssa might still be occupying Scar's body and so be able to return at any moment. On the other hand, she might have been forced to leave, and thus could come back in another shape altogether. In the meantime, all he could do was wait.

  His brooding was cut short by a thin squealing noise coming from outside the hut. It was a sound he recognized and he sat up, peering into the other room to the outer door, hoping to see the new arrival. Alyssa had once appeared to him as a piglet — and Terrel was hoping for a repeat performance now. But no animal appeared, and he was about to lie down again - telling himself that he was getting excited over nothing - when he caught the sound of voices. One of them belonged to Ysatel and, alert once more, Terrel began to listen.

  'Is Kerin here?' Chiva asked nervously. 'No. He's at the elders' meeting.'

  'So's Azian. I wouldn't be here otherwise.' Ysatel eyed the tiny piglet struggling feebly in her visitor's arms, and wondered why Chiva should want to hide whatever she was doing from her own husband. 'Why are you here?'

  'You won't tell Azian I came, will you? He thinks I'm being silly.' 'And are you?'

  'I don't think so,' Chiva declared, with a touch of defiance. 'We all saw what the stranger did with Scar. If he could do that . . .' Her voice trailed away.

  'Your piglet doesn't look as if it's going to attack anyone,' Ysatel commented. Rather the reverse, she thought to herself. It was a puny, sickly-looking creature. 'Oh, he won't,' Chiva assured her earnestly. 'The sow won't let him suckle, even though there are only four others in the litter, and he won't take any other food. If he doesn't eat soon he'll die.'

  Ysatel nodded, knowing that every animal - even a runt - was valuable to its owners. It was more than likely that others in the litter were promised in payment of debts, and with so few piglets having been born this time, the survival of even the weakest was vital.

  'And you think the foreigner might be able to help?' 'Perhaps,' Chiva replied, sounding defensive now. 'I've heard it said that some sharaken have a way with animals. If he could just . . . Azian thinks it's a waste of time.'

  'Well, men don't know everything, do they,' Ysatel commented wryly. 'Let's go and see what happens.'

  The older woman smiled gratefully, and followed her neighbour into the hut.

  Terrel was waiting when the two women came into his room. He had not caught all of what had been said, but the word 'sharaken' had jumped out at him. His suspicion that the two women had been talking about a piglet proved correct when he saw the animal in the stranger's arms. Ysatel said something then and, although he did not understand the words as such, he caught the gist of what she meant. He was overjoyed by the realization that the psinoma must be working as Elam had said it would, and - for the moment - the fact that her exact meaning made little sense to him did not matter. However, when Ysatel look the piglet from her companion's arms and placed it gently on the floor beside Terrel's pallet, the air of anticipation concentrated his thoughts.

  The tiny, wrinkled creature was unsteady on its feet, and seemed to dislike being the centre of attention. Its eves were dull, and when its legs gave way and it slumped to the ground, Terrel wondered whether it was close to dying.

  He was glad now that the dog had gone. The hound's mere presence might have been enough to frighten the piglet to death. As it was, Terrel felt no connection with it - he had known the instant he saw the animal that it was not Alyssa - and he was at a loss to know what he should do. Ysatel had asked him to heal the creature, but how was he supposed to do that? He didn't even know what was wrong with it. Even if he did, he was no miracle worker.

  For the want of anything better to do, he leant forward and touched a finger to the piglet's snout. Its skin was surprisingly cool and rough and, in that instant, Terrel experienced a spasm, not of pain, but of an absolute weariness that - for once - was not his own. He fought against it instinctively, knowing that it was wrong. He was no longer aware of his surroundings, and within his waking dream a memory stirred — of a newborn calf, that had been left for dead, tottering to its mother on wobbly legs. He had done that - though he still didn't know how -and the calf had been in an even worse state than the piglet. Perhaps if . . .

  Beneath his hand he felt the animal stir and sensed, rather than heard, the gasps of the watching women. A few moments later, Terrel sat back, close to exhaustion but feeling oddly content. As he did so, he saw that the small creature was trotting around the room, squealing and snuffling inquisitively.

  Ysatel had left the room, but returned quickly with a bowl full of scraps. The piglet went to this as soon as she set it down, and began to eat enthusiastically. Ysatel said something that was full of both wonder and satisfaction, and the older woman clapped her hands and laughed.

  Knowing that he must have done something right, Terrel lay back down on his bed and fell asleep smiling.

  'Farazin managed to keep things under control,' Kerin reported, 'but feelings were running pretty high on both sides.'

  'Cutter?' Ysatel asked.

  'Actually, he didn't say much. He was more subdued than I'd expected. Probably still humiliated over what happened with Scar'

  'You know the dog's gone?' Neither Ysatel nor any of the others had seen Scar's departure.

&nb
sp; 'Yes. There's been no sign of him, apparently. At least it means Cutter won't show up here and try to reclaim him.'

  'I don't think he would anyway. He wouldn't want to risk being embarrassed again. So do you think he's changed his mind about the boy?'

  'I doubt it. He's probably just biding his time. He's not a man to forgive and forget, so I'd wager he's planning something. He knew he'd have been outvoted today if he suggested anything too outrageous, so he just kept it to himself.'

  Kerin had been aware of Cutter muttering darkly during the meeting of the elders, but both he and Farazin had chosen to ignore it, hoping that common sense would prevail.

  'You think he'd take matters into his own hands?' Ysatel asked. 'Defy the elders?'

  'Maybe. I threatened to, didn't I?'

  'But you didn't have to in the end.'

  'No. Farazin saw to that.'

  'And now it's all settled.'

  'For the time being, at least,' Kerin conceded. 'The decision was clearly going our way as it was, but after Chiva's intervention there was never any doubt. Farazin was outraged, of course, and Azian was embarrassed, but she was going to have her say whatever we did.'

  'Good for her,' Ysatel commented. 'She can be a silly old dear, but her heart's in the right place.'

  'And what happened with their pig was quite persuasive,' Kerin went on. 'After that it was obvious Terel was going to be allowed to stay. Farazin didn't even bother to put it to a vote.'

  'So all we've got to worry about now is Cutter.'

  'He's not to be underestimated,' Kerin agreed.

  They both knew that Cutter wielded considerable influence in Fenduca. Almost everyone there was dependent on him to some extent. He was the one who oiled the wheels of trade, providing services of safekeeping, money-lending and -

  most importantly - of bargain-sealing. Whenever merchants came to the village, it was Mitus they dealt with. In that way, the visitors were unable to pit one prospector against another and drive down prices. Everyone received a fair share of the proceeds - and Mitus, of course, took his cut. Even though Scar's apparent defection may have dented his reputation a little, he still commanded respect - as well as a certain amount of fear.