by Ben Yallop
Eventually, he rose from the water, leaving it considerably dirtier than when he had entered it. He wrapped himself in a fluffy towel and forced a comb through his brown hair. He dressed and took the stairs down to the room with the giant fireplace. The smell of food filled the space and Weewalk and Hadan were tucking into large plates full of chicken and potatoes. A wicker basket of freshly baked bread was in the middle of the table and Sam took a piece as he sat down. It was delicious and still warm, the top coated in poppy seeds. A few minutes later Jēran placed a plate of chicken in front of him and Sam attacked it hungrily. Eventually sated he sat back happily, rubbing his stomach. The sun had set and the last rays of the evening light showed through the window.
None of them spoke. There was no need. They were all full and content. It wasn't long before they silently trooped upstairs, dropped into their beds and fell asleep.
For a week Sam, Weewalk and Hadan simply enjoyed good food, plenty of sleep and the sun in the gardens. It was a simple life but Sam felt incredibly content. He finally had time to take stock of what had happened, the death of his grandfather, the destruction of his house, the pursuit from Ferus, the fight with the garoul and the bizarre events in old London. He even thought about the beautiful girl in the painting that had hung in the house and how the fire had curled its edges and destroyed it. Sam and Weewalk talked more about his presence and Sam continued to try to make things move using the power of his mind. This was the only time when he felt unhappy. He was still unable to do so much as lift a feather and Weewalk's calm confidence made his failures all the harder to bear. Sam was trying for what seemed like the hundredth time to have some effect on a leaf which floated in the pool under the tinkling fountain in the central courtyard when Weewalk told him that he would meet someone new on the following day.
‘His name is Vallalar’, said Weewalk, watching the leaf for any sign of movement. ‘He’s particularly good at seeing potential in others. Hödekin told me that they’re expecting him to arrive tomorrow. He's been guarding another of the entrances for a while.’
‘It's no good, Weewalk.’ said Sam, ‘I still won't be able to do it.’
‘We'll see.’ said the kobold. ‘Let's leave it for today.’
Kya sat on a long bench, an empty plate before her on the pitted wooden table. She eyed the others in the room. An odd bunch. This clearly wasn't the most salubrious of places. Two shady figures were in deep conversation in one corner of the room. In another corner the hairiest person she had ever seen was hunched over a flagon of beer. She wasn't entirely sure he wasn't part Yowie.
A shadow fell over her plate and Kya looked up. A woman stood before her, long dark hair covering much of her face. The newcomer looked around at the others in the room warily.
‘Scusi, you are Kya?’ she asked quietly.
‘Depends who's asking.’ said Kya carefully.
The woman sat down opposite Kya. ‘My name is Eusapia. Aye ave a message from Jēran at the Mermaid Tavern. The boy you are looking for. Ee is there.’
‘How do I know I can trust you?’ asked Kya.
The woman looked around hurriedly. Satisfied that no-one was watching she extended a hand over the table between them. Her hand hovered above Kya's plate which, after a moment, span on the table then lifted into the air and hovered a couple of inches above the stained wooden plank.
‘You go. Find him.’ said Eusapia. The plate dropped back onto the tabletop with a thunk and Kya saw one of the shadowy men in the corner look over quickly.
‘Must go.’ said the woman and held out her hand again, but palm up. She nodded at Kya
Sighing Kya reached into a pocket and took out some Murian gold. She placed a single piece in the woman's hand.
Eusapia stood quickly and, with a last look around, drew her coat tightly around her and hurried from the room. Kya leaned back and stretched out her legs. So, he was at the Mermaid. She'd make the journey as soon as she could. Right now she had more pressing things to deal with. She was being followed.
Kya left the inn and stepped out onto the moonlit crossroads. She looked each direction and choosing one set off at a slow walk. She sent her presence behind her and sensed the man step out of the shadows of the stables and pad after her. She kept her eyes forward and tried to walk casually, which was surprisingly difficult once you began to concentrate upon it.
The path turned a corner into some trees and, as soon as she judged that she was out of the sight of her pursuer, Kya darted behind a large tree.
She did not have to wait long. The man crept between the trees on the opposite side of the road, even more cautious now that he had lost sight of his prey. Kya waited until he was level with her hiding place and then stepped out from behind the tree, simultaneously raising an arm and shaping her hand as if she were grasping a cup. The man froze, his back to a tree. His face began to flush, visible even in the pale moonlight.
Kya strode towards him. He was a weasely sort of man, with a pinched face and wide staring eyes. Kya had him by the throat and he was unable to move.
‘Why are you following me?’ she asked.
‘Not following.’ managed the man, struggling a little to breathe.
‘I'll ask again.’ said Kya ‘Why are you following me and who sent you?’
The man only grinned, although the pressure on his windpipe made it come out as a grimace.
Kya sighed and lifted her arm slightly higher. A look of panic crossed the man's face and he lifted a little higher in the air until the tips of his boots were only just touching the floor.
‘I'm dead if I tell you.’ he managed.
‘You must be confused about what's happening here.’ said Kya coolly.
The man slid further up the tree trunk. He was now unable to touch the ground and he began to choke and struggle. Kya held him firmly although she was already beginning to tire. She tried not to show it.
‘Ferus.’ the man groaned, trying to push against the invisible bonds that held him aloft by the throat.
Kya did not relieve the pressure.
‘Looking for the boy too.’ he gasped, his face flushing darker, his lips parted in a snarl.
Kya lessened the pressure on his neck and he took a great gasp of air before entering into a fit of coughing. She kept him held against the tree for a moment. Then, looking up, she raised her arm again. The man was lifted into the very top of the tall tree his legs kicking as he rose. Kya placed him on a branch that she judged was just strong enough to hold his weight, provided he didn't squirm. She called up to him.
‘Stop following me!’
Then she turned and walked away through the wood, quickly disappearing into the black night.
The man looked around wildly, gripping on to the branch as it bounced and creaked under his weight. The nearest branch was well out of reach. He was stuck.
Sam didn't feel like getting out of bed and stayed there for most of the morning. He knew that Weewalk wanted him to meet the mystic they had discussed the previous day, but he hated the thought of having to show someone else that he was completely without talent. Around midday Hadan forced him out, all but dragging him from beneath the sheets.
‘Come on.’ he said sternly ‘You're to meet Vallalar. Weewalk wants him to have a look at you.’
'Why do you care anyway? What difference does it make to you?' said Sam grouchily.
'The Riven want to kill you. That's their idea, not ours. You should be grateful that we've helped you this far. Vallalar might be able to take it further and actually help you defend yourself. Although I'm not entirely convinced that you deserve it! Perhaps we should just throw you to the garoul! Now get out of bed!'
Sam felt so miserable that he never wanted to move again but eventually he found himself in the room with the fireplace. Jēran wiped at glasses with a dirty rag and Weewalk was deep in conversation with an elderly man with wrinkled brown skin, a light grey beard and long white hair. They turned as Sam and Hadan entered the room.
�
�Goodness me, but he is skinny isn't he?’ said the man in an accent which might have been Indian. His eyes twinkled kindly and Sam could not help but feel a little of his trepidation trickle away. ‘Come here, young man and let me take a look at you.’
Sam stepped forward. Vallalar rose and walked around him in a circle, stroking his beard as he did so. He turned to Weewalk ‘And you say he threw a garoul through a wall hard enough to kill it?’
‘Yes,’ said Weewalk. ‘I'm sure of it.’
‘Was there anyone else in the room?’
‘It was just the three of us.’
Vallalar turned his attention to Hadan. ‘So, you were there too were you? Hmmm,’ he studied Hadan carefully, ‘Ever showed any power yourself, Hadan?’
‘No.’ said Hadan softly ‘It definitely wasn't me.’
‘Are you sure?’ said Vallalar.
Sam had never seen Hadan look anything other than confident and composed even to the point of arrogance, but here he looked distinctly uncomfortable and unhappy.
There was an edge to his voice when he answered ‘Vallalar, it wasn't me, alright?’ He kept his eyes on the floor.
‘Well, if you’re sure.’ said Vallalar with a nod of his head, turning again to Sam. ‘Must have been you then.’ he said happily. ‘Come with me.’
Sam followed the elderly man into the small courtyard that sat at the centre of the building. The sky above was blue and the midday sun pushed down into the stone square. The fountain tinkled and goldfish swam in lazy circles in the pool underneath, bright orange against the dark water. Vallalar led them to a patch of shade against one wall. He sat down crossed his legs and closed his eyes with a sigh.
‘Good.’ he said, almost to himself. Opening his eyes he beckoned Sam to sit next to him. ‘Please, Samuel, sit down.’
Sam sat, crossing his legs too.
Vallalar spoke ‘Please close your eyes.’
Sam did as he was told.
‘Samuel, one of the powers that is possible with presence is the training of the mind to sense many different things around you and inside you. I have practised meditation for many years and can set my mind to wander free. As well as moving some objects with my mind, by telekinesis, I can study things that are not usually visible. I am going to send my mind into your body and sense all the things inside. You may feel some odd sensations.’
With a start, Sam realised that the last sentence had not been heard by his ears. The words had been spoken directly into his head.
He opened his eyes to check that Vallalar was still there. The man sat motionless, his eyes closed.
The voice came again within his head. ‘Please Samuel, close your eyes.’ Vallalar's mouth had not moved.
Sam closed his eyes again and tried not to feel nervous. As he sat as still as he could he began to feel a strange fluttering in his chest and stomach, then a funny pressure behind his eyes. After a few minutes Vallalar spoke, normally this time.
‘Thank you, Samuel. Please be so good as to take off your shoes and lie down.’
Sam did as he was told. Vallalar moved so that he could see the soles of Sam's feet. He picked up the right foot and kneaded it with his soft but firm fingers. After a moment Sam began to feel a warmth running up and down his spine. His back seemed to ripple against the cool stone slabs of the courtyard.
Vallalar stopped. ‘All done, you may sit up, thank you.’
‘Is that it?’ said Sam.
‘Yes, what did you expect?’
‘I don’t know. Something grander, more magical I guess.’
Sam raised himself into a sitting position and the warmth in his spine flowed away. Other than feeling rather relaxed he didn't feel any different. But Vallalar seemed very pleased.
‘Samuel,’ he said happily, ‘It was magical. I unlocked your presence. And I think it might be rather strong. Now it is time to begin. You could be an important ally to the rebels. But tell me, have you ever been to a desert?’
There were several lines that existed in and around the tavern. Hadan and Weewalk had shown Sam their locations on the second day. The building was widely believed to be haunted. Indeed, Sam had heard that it was rumoured to be one of the most haunted locations in the country but he knew that the strange sensations and 'ghostly' happenings were caused by the effects of the lines that lay here and there, invisible to those without presence. The feelings that were caused by these lines no longer troubled Sam now that he knew what they were, no more than passing any other closed door would. The Tavern, although odd in places, felt comfortable and familiar.
The particular line that they needed was behind a shed in the garden. Vallalar opened it in a moment and he and Sam stepped through. Vallalar had instructed Sam to wear warm clothing which had confused Sam given that they were, he thought, travelling to a desert. But when he felt the ground form beneath his feet Sam understood why. There was no doubt that this was a desert, and as such suffered extremely high temperatures, but they had arrived at night and the rocky sand was cold under the dark star-studded sky. The wind sighed and moaned across the featureless landscape. A light blue tinged one horizon but Sam could not yet tell whether it was an approaching dawn or the disappearing day. The moon hung above them, out-shining all but the brightest stars.
‘Well, Samuel, here we are.’ said Vallalar. ‘Time for us to move mountains. Have you ever heard the mystery of the rolling rocks of Death Valley?’
Sam nodded his head. By chance he had heard of the mystery. Rocks in a desert had been found to have long tracks in the sand stretching away behind them. The land was flat and the rocks were too heavy to be moved by the wind, or even by a man or animal. Yet apparently the rocks did move across the desert although no-one had ever seen it happen.
Vallalar continued ‘I am confident that you are about to become part of that mystery. This way please.’
They walked up a slight rise until they could see a flat sandy plain below them. Vallalar seated himself at the crest of a dune facing towards the empty space. Tiny streams of sand trickled away at every movement. Looking again Sam could see that the area before them was not empty. In the moonlight he could see a number of boulders of varying sizes. Most were roughly spherical. He sat down next to Vallalar.
Vallalar pointed out a smallish rock, the size of a basketball. ‘Samuel, I want you to move that rock.’
Sam began to stand up and Vallalar gave a laugh. ‘No, Samuel. Like this.’
He took a slow deep breath and Sam saw the rock begin to roll. It was quickly rolling across the plain like a remote-controlled marble, twisting, turning. Sam gaped. The old man moved it with such ease.
Vallalar brought it to rest in front of them and turned to Sam.
‘Now you try. Reach out to it with your mind. Imagine your mind wrapping around it. Once you feel that you are holding it, move it. It is more straightforward than perhaps you are thinking.’
Sam had tried this many times with Weewalk but had not been able even to move a sausage. How would he move something a thousand times heavier? But he did as instructed and imagined he was holding the boulder before him.
‘Raise your hand if you find it easier.’ said Vallalar from one side.
Sam did as he said. He raised his arm and immediately felt a change. He concentrated with all his might and then the warm feeling came to his spine. His arm began to shake. The rock moved an inch. Sam tensed even more, his jaw aching from straining.
‘Aaaaarghhhh.’ a cry escaped his mouth under the strain but then the rock moved properly. As if it had been given a sudden shove by an invisible hand it rolled three feet away from them.
‘Ha!’ shouted Sam joyously. ‘I did it! Wow! I moved it!’
‘Yes Samuel,’ said Vallalar ‘You have a presence.’
Sam and Vallalar spent another few hours in Death Valley. Sam found he was increasingly able to control the movement of the rocks and by the time Vallalar called a halt there were tracks in the sand behind many of the boulders, even some of the la
rger ones. They eventually had to leave as the sun had come up and began to beat down with an intensity that was completely at odds with the chilly night. Sam arrived back at the Tavern exhausted but happy.
It was evening at the Tavern when they got back. Sam couldn't see Weewalk or Hadan and Vallalar excused himself so Sam ate alone before the giant fireplace. Having finished an excellent chicken pie he sat alone, too tired to go to bed, fingering the puckered scar on his right hand.
What now? Not long ago he had been an ordinary boy in an ordinary world. When his grandfather died his life had been thrown into chaos. Now he was sitting in a tavern, with a strange power which allowed him to affect the world with his mind. A power that, grown strong enough, might allow him to stop Ferus from hurting anyone else. A scowl crossed Sam's face as he sat there alone. Tired as he was, he sat, working out what to do. Eventually he nodded to himself and left the room.
Back in the bedroom Sam was almost ready to fall asleep when Weewalk came in alone. He was beaming at Sam in the candlelight. Sam slipped from between the sheets and walked over to Weewalk. He dropped to his knees in front of the small figure and gave him an enormous hug. Surprised Weewalk gave a laugh and put his arms behind Sam's back, returning the embrace.
‘Thank you,’ said Sam quietly. ‘For everything. For getting me here. For saving my life. For showing me what you have. I want to help you.’
Weewalk looked at him fondly. ‘Sam, this is just the beginning. Welcome to the resistance.’
Chapter Eleven
Over time Vallalar and Sam worked hard to build the strength and control of Sam's telekinetic powers. After one particularly long day in the kitchen of the Mermaid Sam found he was able to bend a metal spoon in half, and back again, so that there was hardly a ripple or mark on the stem. At one point Jēran came into the room to see a large pile of buckled cutlery on his big oak table. His eyes widened in shock and Sam was suddenly terrified. Then with an enormous beaming smile he clapped Sam on the back so hard that Sam nearly fell over. Jēran had marched from the room still smiling.