by Julia Gray
'The city gets the best of everything.' Although Odd did not sound envious, Terrel could understand why others would be. It must be galling to see the best of all
their produce - whether it be food, raw materials or precious stones -
disappear into the seemingly insatiable maw of Talazoria, when many peasants barely had enough to eat. It was easy to see why the military escorts were necessary.
'That's the way of it,' Drewan said. 'I may not like it; but what can I do?'
'If enough people decided to fight against it,' Terrel suggested, 'a system as unjust as this would surely collapse.'
'Don't let the soldiers hear you talk like that,' the bargee hissed, glancing around nervously. 'I've stuck my neck out for you, and I don't want to end up in the stews.'
'Where?'
'That's what they call the encampments outside the walls.'
'Where all the beggars live,' Odd put in.
'Not just beggars,' Drewan said. 'Anyone who's got nowhere else to go. It's a pretty filthy way to live, even by the standards of the plain.'
'Lots of rats,' Odd confirmed sagely.
'Why do people stay there?'
'There's always a chance of getting a job,' Drewan replied. 'Even of becoming an underling. Maybe that only happens to one in a thousand, but people don't think like that, do they?'
'Some of them do get inside, though,' Odd remarked, with a malicious grin.
'For the entertainments.'
'That's no laughing matter,' the older man snapped, and Odd's face fell.
'Are you talking about the demon?' Terrel asked.
'That's the latest thing, apparently,' Drewan replied.
He seemed reluctant to say any more, and looked around again, but it was obvious that Terrel wanted him to go on. 'Ekuban's mad,' he said quietly, 'and he's infected the whole court so that now it's like an ... an addiction.
Before the demon came along, they'd have public burnings, hangings and beheadings, just for sport! Then some of the nobles started to compete against each other to devise better ways of torturing and killing for the king's amusement. The demon is just the most recent entertainment, but Ekuban's been using the people of the stews as his playthings for as long as I can remember.
When there aren't enough criminals or heretics for the magistrates to condemn to death, he just gets the soldiers to round up a few people no one will miss from outside the city walls.'
'They're sent to their deaths for nothing?' Terrel breathed, appalled.
'Not for nothing,' Drewan replied. 'For being poor and stupid.'
That night, under the full of the Amber Moon, Terrel slept badly again, his nightmares haunted by disturbing images of blood and death. He also dreamt of the Dark Moon, seeing it this time as a great vulture that swooped down on black wings to tear at his flesh with its talons and curved beak. At the same time, a voice he didn't recognize told him to 'remember your sister'.
When he awoke from another vision - this time of being swept down in the churning waters of a giant cataract - he recalled the words, and found them as meaningless as all the other messages. He had no sister. At least none that he knew of.
*
The day began early, before dawn, because it was one of the superstitions of the bargemen that if all seven locks were not navigated between sunrise and sunset in a single day, back luck would follow the boat and her crew for a full year. Terrel helped with the preparations, and as the sun crept up over the eastern horizon, they set off.
The boy watched in fascination as Drewan's barge, together with three others, entered one lock after another, the giant doors opening and closing in sequence so that the water gushed down, sparkling in the morning light. With each lowering of the water level the boats moved on, coming ever closer to the plain below. All went smoothly, and by early afternoon they were down, and taking a well-earned rest at the mooring basin before beginning the last stage of their journey.
Looking back up the slope, Terrel couldn't help but be amazed that the transfer of these large vessels was even possible. He had been glad of the distraction - for a few hours he'd been able to forget about the dreadful things he'd heard the previous evening — but now, as Odd tethered their new horse to the lead rope and they set off again, he was forced to look ahead once more.
He was hoping that Drewan's tale had been exaggerated, that the way the city was run was not as vile as the bargee had suggested, but instinct told him otherwise -and nothing he saw for the rest of that day and all of the next made him feel any less pessimistic. The few people he glimpsed beyond the canal's perimeter fence looked ragged and dejected. Their settlements seemed even more drab and squalid than those he'd seen earlier in his journey and, what was more, they seemed to be getting worse the closer he got to the city.
It was as though Talazoria's
malign influence had sucked the land around it dry, leaving it without any pride or spirit, without even the possibility of any happiness or comfort. And if that were true here, Terrel thought, looking out as the depressing landscape slid slowly past, what must it be like in the stews?
'If those cretins at the way-station hadn't palmed us off with this stupid lame nag,' Drewan muttered angrily, 'we'd've been in Talazoria by tomorrow night.' He glanced at the boy and seemed to remember who he was talking to.
'No offence, Terrel. A man with a gimpy leg is still a man, but a lame horse is worse than useless.'
The barge had had to moor at the side of the canal only a short time after they'd set off that morning, and Drewan was not pleased. For Terrel, the enforced halt was less of an imposition. The closer he came to the city, the less he liked the idea of actually getting there. Even finding a way to get inside the walls - as he knew he must - now seemed like an impossible task.
And if he managed that, all he had to do then was stop a mad king and a displaced elemental from driving each other to the point where the entire country was destroyed!
'You might as well stretch your legs,' Drewan suggested. 'It'll be a couple of hours at least until we get a replacement.'
Terrel took the bargee's advice, collected his staff, and made his way along the towpath. The morning was cool but dry, and after a while he climbed a grassy bank and sat down, deciding to try to talk to Reader. However, his greeting met with silence, and no matter how hard he gripped the staff or how much effort he put into his
thoughts, nothing happened. He gave up, wondering dismally why the message-handle no longer seemed to be working. If the sharaken had abandoned him, then he had no allies left at all.
Lying on his back and gazing up at the sky, Terrel saw the pale crescent of the waning White Moon — the moon of logic and destiny - but it gave him no answers either. He could still see it when he closed his eyes and fell asleep; it followed him into his dream, which was made up of jumbled fragments of all the dreams from the last few nights.
Terrel woke to a painful stabbing at his left ear. He exclaimed in distress and flailed out with his arm, opening his eyes to a blur of black and white.
The magpie, having succeeded in waking him, came to rest a short distance away and regarded him with jewel-bright eyes.
I'm not your sister, Alyssa said. Why are you dreaming about her?
Chapter Forty-Four
'Alyssa!' Terrel cried. All of a sudden he felt joyful, tearful, lighter than air. The sheer relief of knowing she'd survived untied a huge knot in his stomach - which had been inside him for so long he'd almost forgotten it was there. You're alive!
Of course I'm alive, she replied. No thanks to you, though.
It wasn't me! he exclaimed.
I know that, stupid.
I had to take part in the ritual, he said, still stung by her accusation. You agreed with me about that.
I trust you, she said. Not Jax.
But he's part of me, Terrel said, admitting this to himself for the first time. He's only really dangerous when I'm drunk, or . . . What happened?
I saw the change
- or felt it, rather - and I knew something bad was happening. Your eyes weren't right. I left just in time. She paused. I felt her die, even so. There was
regret and anger, perhaps even guilt, in Alyssa's voice.
I'm sorry.
So am I. She had no choice, and I repaid her gift to me with death.
It wasn't your fault, he assured her. We didn't know . . . We couldn 't...
What's done is done, Alyssa. We can't change it — and at least the sharaken agreed to help me.
With that? she asked, glancing with obvious distaste at the staff that lay on the ground between them.
Yes. It could be important.
Let's hope so. If not, the fox's death was pointless.
Terrel wished that their reunion could have begun with a discussion of something more pleasant, but he was so glad to see Alyssa that he was unable to feel too much sorrow at the animal's end.
Is what happened the reason you 've been so long coming back to me?
Partly, but I've been looking for you for the last few days. Now I can see why I couldn't find you, she went on, jabbing her beak towards the water. I was only just able to get here this time.
What do you mean?
There's a pulse to the water's influence, a pattern. I have to fit into it.
There's a sickness here.
Like a curse? Terrel's fears about travelling upon water had been confirmed, but this extra ill omen was something he had not expected.
Yes. Don't you feel it?
No. I'm fine. He began to justify his decision to accept a ride on the barge, but even as he spoke he couldn't help wondering about the nature of his recent dreams — and the fact that the message-handle had seemed to lose its power. Was it possible that he had been affected by the curse, in ways he wasn't even aware of? And was the elemental responsible for any malign influence? From what Terrel could remember of his dream, the creature might well have passed this way on its unwilling journey to Talazoria. I might not have got here in time if I hadn't used the canal, he concluded. We should reach the city in about two days.
Sometimes easiest is not always best, Alyssa commented, but you may as well carry on now.
You will stay with me, won't you? he asked anxiously.
I'll fly alongside, she confirmed.
Terrel breathed a sigh of relief. He was no longer alone.
It's good to see you, Alyssa.
There's another wind blowing, she replied.
Before he could ask what she meant, Terrel was distracted by the feel of something sticky running down the side of his neck. When he touched his skin, his fingers came away red and he realized that his ear was bleeding where she had pecked him.
'Ow!' he said, feeling it sting again. What did you have to do that for?
You 're lucky, she replied. This bird is evil. It tried to get me to peck out a lamb's eyes back there.
Then why not choose a different bird?
I think maybe I need to be nasty just now.
Why?
Alyssa ignored his question and turned away, bounding across the grass in a series of long, springy leaps. Her tail swayed from side to side as she stared along the towpath.
There's a new horse coming. You 'd better get back to the barge.
Terrel got to his feet.
Where are the others?
I haven't seen them for a while. And pretty soon they won't be able to join us.
And you'll be stuck as a magpie, Terrel pointed out. Are you sure you don't want to find another bird while you still have the chance?
The pulse is changing, Alyssa remarked, then flew off, chattering in the harsh manner of her kind.
Left alone again, Terrel made his way back to the boat and climbed aboard.
They cast off as soon as Odd set the replacement horse in motion, and Terrel watched anxiously for Alyssa. He eventually spotted her flying a parallel course some distance from the water. She had to keep circling round to match the barge's ponderous pace, and after a while Terrel saw — to his amusement -
that she had been joined by several other magpies. He gingerly touched his damaged ear, and thought that a whole flock of such belligerent birds would make a formidable army. He would certainly want them on his side in any battle.
When Terrel finally looked away from the birds, he turned his attention to the view over the barge's bows, wondering when he would get his first sight of Talazoria. Now that Alyssa had come back to him, some of his confidence had returned.
Had Terrel looked round, the sight he would have seen might have shattered his new-found optimism. Above the towpath, a few hundred paces astern, three ghosts were struggling against a powerful wind that tore at their clothes and hair, buffeting them so that they could hardly stay upright. They were fighting a losing battle against
the ever-increasing force of a hurricane — but it was a hurricane that touched nothing in Terrel's world.
All three ghosts were shouting, but their words were blown away by the pressure of the unreal wind, and the boy heard nothing. Against such arcane power, not even psinoma stood any chance.
The old men were the first to surrender to the inevitable. Elam struggled on for a little longer, but eventually even his stubborn bravery was of no use.
All three fell back, their failure reflected in their worried expressions, and then they vanished. Completely unaware of the drama that had unfolded behind him, Terrel sailed on, each moment bringing him a little closer to the source of the hurricane.
'Should I stay on the towpath?'
'Best not,' Drewan replied.
Terrel nodded. He had come this far on sufferance. The soldiers who had accompanied the convoy had accepted his presence, but the guards at Talazoria would not be so lenient.
'You're close enough now,' Drewan went on. 'You won't get lost. I wish we could take you further, but. . .' He shrugged.
'Good luck,' Odd said.
'Aye, good luck, boy,' the bargee said. 'Just watch your tongue when you get to the city. Not everyone will take kindly to some of your ideas.'
'I'll be careful,' Terrel promised. 'Thanks for everything.'
Now that the time had come for him to leave the barge, he felt a renewed sense of disorientation. Climbing over
the perimeter fence was difficult, and was made worse by the fact that he knew several people were watching him, but once he'd managed that — and had waved a last farewell - he saw the magpie flying down to join him, and this restored his spirits. Although he had seen her from a distance, he hadn't spoken with Alyssa for the last day and a half. Now they could go on together. It was still very early in the morning, and - according to Drewan - Terrel ought to be able to walk as far as the city walls before nightfall.
Ready? Alyssa asked as she swooped past.
Ready for what? he asked.
A little thieving, she replied, and flew away again.
If anything, the stews were even worse than Drewan had described. Clinging to the base of the uncaring walls of Talazoria, the mouldering collection of dilapidated shacks looked like some virulent fungus attached to the bole of a giant tree. Everything and everyone there seemed to be covered in filth and grime, and the air was so full of the fetid stench of decay that at first Terrel found it hard to breathe. Desperate poverty and all kinds of disease were rampant, so that in spite of his twisted body, Terrel was keenly aware of his relative affluence and good health. There was more work to be done here than could be managed by a thousand healers, let alone one, and the boy was simply overwhelmed by pity and revulsion.
Many people watched as he went by, some looking at him with fear or envy, but a few glared with unreasoning hatred while others pleaded with him for alms.
Terrel felt very much the outsider, and knew it was only the threat of his staff and his strange eyes that allowed him to walk freely among these outcasts and beggars. He could scarcely believe that people lived like this — but it was only when he saw men and women fighting for the scraps of food that had bee
n thrown out over the city wall amid a foul-smelling cascade of rubbish that he realized the depths of hopelessness and degradation they had reached. At that moment the boy thought he would never eat again.
By then he had been in the stews for more than an hour, working his way around the city walls, but as yet he had seen no sign of any gate. The only entrance so far had been the canal tunnel — and that had been some distance away, beyond heavily-manned fortifications. Terrel was beginning to despair of ever finding a way in, and had no idea where he was going to spend the fast approaching night. Just then the magpie dived down, then flew towards an open space a little further from the walls. When they'd first arrived, Alyssa had stayed close to Terrel, but some of the stew's inhabitants had thrown stones at her - presumably hoping to kill the bird for its flesh - and she had retreated to a safer distance. Having the advantage of flight, she'd been able to go over the city-walls, and had done so in search of information. Now she had returned, and Terrel hurried across the patch of bare earth to join her.
It's like the cloud of a nightmare, she said, looking over at the jumble of hovels.
This place is worse than any nightmare, Terrel replied.
Quite a contrast to the other side of the walls, Alyssa noted. It's beautiful in there.
Where's the nearest gate?
Keep going the way you were. It's about four hundred paces from here, but there are guards everywhere. What are you going to do?
Just ask them to let you in? Have you got a better idea? Terrel enquired.
'Where do you think you're going, son?'
'I've been summoned to the court,' Terrel declared.
The soldiers laughed.
'Really? Who by?'
'Lord Rekyar,' the boy replied, using a name he'd heard when eavesdropping on a conversation among the sentries.
'And what would he want with a deformed sewer rat like you?'
'I'm a healer. I'll prove it to you if—'