The Harpy's Song

by Logan Joss

  They ran along the quayside and out onto the wall, Mèlli far in the lead and Trevor trying hard to catch up. At the end of the wall, Mèlli hopped up without pausing onto its raised edge and looked out across the harbordrome spread out before him. Trevor caught up and was about to jump up too—but he stopped. A jolt of fear flooded through him. With terror, he realized that the arm-like harbordrome wall seemed to be floating in mid-air. All around him, where he had expected to see water, was nothing but empty space. With his heart pounding in his chest, he leaned out cautiously over the edge. Far below him, the ground appeared as nothing more than a smudge of greens and browns. He recoiled from the immense drop, his head spinning.

  ‘You’re not scared of heights are you?’ Mèlli said, looking down at him.

  ‘We’re so high!’ Trevor’s legs were trembling beneath him.

  ‘Yes,’ Mèlli said proudly. ‘It’s the highest harbordrome on Ëlamár and the safest too, because it’s west facing. All the weather systems come from the east, so it offers the perfect shelter to the vessels.’ Mèlli waved an arm back towards the harbordrome.

  Trevor took a tentative step towards the edge and peered downwards. He knelt on the ground, not quite trusting his wobbly legs, and leaned cautiously over the wall, following it with his eyes back in the direction they had come from. Now he could see quite clearly that the harbordrome was on the side of a huge cliff. Higher than any he had seen in his life, it was lit up in shades of orange by the setting sun. At the top, the two harbordrome walls extended outwards, supported by elaborate trusses constructed from giant blocks of stone. In between the walls, tiered wooden pontoons appeared to hang weightlessly in the air. A handful of shabby vessels were moored to the lowest level. These were the transports of mercenaries, looking for employment in the impending war. Above them, a few isolated vessels populated the middle levels and, on the uppermost tier, a solitary galleon rested regally, reflecting the changing light of the evening.

  ‘But where’s the water?’ Trevor asked, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

  ‘Water?’ Mèlli was confused. ‘They’re not fishing boats, these are galleons. Merchants don’t set down on water unless they really have to.’ Mèlli turned and started to walk back towards the quayside. ‘Where you come from must be really weird. Come on, we’d better head back now.’

  ‘But…’ Trevor didn’t move, unable to tear his eyes away from the incredible sight of the harbordrome.

  ‘Come on. Unless you want to be the one to explain to King Somúlùs why we’re so late!’

  Trevor remained transfixed until Mèlli’s words registered. ‘Hey! Wait up! It was you who wanted to come here anyway.’

  Back on the cobbled quayside, Mèlli paused.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Trevor asked.

  ‘There’s no point going back the way we came, we might as well carry on going this way,’ Mèlli said, pointing along the quayside. ‘It will bring us out at the top of the bazaar, near to where that boodaloofe stampede was.’

  Trevor just shrugged. ‘Whichever way you think.’

  Just as they were about to set off, they heard shouts coming from the far end of the harbordrome, followed by the sound of running. They stood listening for a moment, but it soon became apparent that the shouting was getting nearer. Mèlli grabbed Trevor and pulled him behind some crates at the entrance to a side alley. They crouched down and watched as a small group of urchins ran by, laughing, followed shortly afterward by several very angry-looking merchants. The merchants stopped and looked around for the children.

  ‘Where did they go?’ one man shouted.

  ‘Dunno, they just disappeared,’ another said.

  ‘Well, we’d better find them. That was more than a week’s wages!’ the first man said, shaking his fist in the air. ‘You three, go down there!’ he said, pointing to the alleyway where Trevor and Mèlli hid. ‘And you three come with me.’

  The group of four merchants ran off along the quayside in pursuit of the children, while the remaining three started to search down the alleyway. One of the men soon spotted Trevor and Mèlli crouching behind the crates. ‘Here they are!’ he said to his companions.

  ‘They’re over here!’ another shouted to alert the rest of the group.

  Trevor and Mèlli jumped up. ‘No! We’re not with them!’ Trevor said quickly.

  Mèlli started to protest too, but before he could get any words out, both boys were grabbed and dragged out onto the cobbles, kicking and struggling. Trevor ducked under the merchant’s arm and was able to free himself and run off. The man gave chase for a short distance but then stopped, realizing it was futile. Mèlli however, was being held by two of the men and was unable to escape. Any chance of breaking free was lost completely when the other four merchants returned.

  ‘Just one? Where’s the others?’ the ringleader shouted. He grabbed Mèlli by the lapels and shook him vigorously. ‘Where’s my gold?’ he yelled in his face.

  Mèlli kicked him in the shins and yelled back. ‘I didn’t take your stupid gold!’

  Red-faced and gritting his teeth, the merchant raised himself to his full height and struck Mèlli across the face. ‘Either give me back my gold or take me to the thieving little scab who’s got it, or I’ll—’

  ‘Or you’ll what?’ Mèlli said and spat in his face.

  Now completely riled, the merchant drew back a clenched fist, ready to strike Mèlli again, but before he had a chance, he was seized around the neck from behind. Trevor pulled as hard as he could, unbalancing the man so that he had to stagger backward to prevent himself from falling. The rest of the group, who up until this point had been happy to stand by and watch, jumped into action to help their leader.

  Seeing his chance, Mèlli bit down as hard as he could on the hand of one of the men who was holding him. Stunned and in pain, he let go. This served to distract the other one just enough to allow Mèlli to slip out from his grasp and run to help Trevor. He launched an almighty kick between the legs of one merchant, sending him sprawling to his knees in agony. He skipped around the fallen man, only to come face to face with another, who was wielding a knife and grinning coldly. Thinking quickly, Mèlli feinted a move to the left and then dodged right, causing the merchant to plow into the back of the man who was trying to pull Trevor’s arms from around his leader’s throat. The knife skidded across the cobbles.

  Losing his balance, the leader toppled over backward and plummeted to the floor, pinning Trevor beneath him. Trevor felt like his ribcage had been crushed and he was unable to draw a breath with the full weight of the burly merchant on top of him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the glint of the knife beside him. He stretched his fingers to the limit of his reach and just managed to coax it towards him. In his desperation, he plunged the blade into his attacker’s shoulder. The man howled with pain and rolled off him.

  Trevor immediately felt himself being hauled upright. He raised his arms in defense only to see Mèlli’s face before him.

  ‘We’ve got to get out of here! Now!’ Mèlli said and started to run. But Trevor, in his dazed state, was not quick enough. No sooner had he put a foot forward, than he was jolted backward and thrown to the ground, his head hitting the cobbles with a sickening thud. He saw two merchants leering at him as the world faded to black.

  Sensing that Trevor was not behind him, Mèlli stopped and turned. Two merchants were beginning to give chase while Trevor lay behind them on the ground, motionless. Suddenly, the two men stopped dead and crouched down, shielding their heads with their arms; the group still standing near Trevor was doing the same thing. Three of them ran for cover into an alleyway. Mèlli didn’t know why they were all acting so strangely, but he didn’t want to take any chances so he ducked into a doorway. He poked his head out to watch what was going on and to keep an eye on Trevor, who still didn’t seem to be moving.

  At the bottom of the quayside, the group of urchins appeared, throwing stones and hurling insults at the merchants.
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  ‘Look, it’s them,’ one of the merchants shouted. ‘Oi, you! Get back here with my gold.’

  All the men turned and started to run after them, no longer bothered by the stones.

  Mèlli watched as the merchants vanished after the group of urchins, leaving Trevor unguarded. He ran quickly to his side. ‘Trevor, are you alright?’ Mèlli knelt down beside him and prodded him in the chest.

  Trevor slowly opened his eyes and groaned. ‘What happened?’ he murmured.

  ‘Can you stand? We need to get out of here,’ Mèlli said urgently. ‘Those children came back and the men have gone after them, but they could be back at any moment. We need to go.’ Mèlli hooked his arm under Trevor’s and took his weight while he regained his balance. They headed off along the quayside in the direction of the palace.

  ‘Whoa, that was close,’ Trevor said, still a little shaken.

  ‘Close? You can say that again. I thought you were dead.’

  ‘Hold that thought, there’s still time.’ Trevor grimaced at the pain in his head.

  ‘Well, if we don’t hurry up, King Somúlùs will be responsible for both our deaths,’ Mèlli said, only half joking. They made their way through the maze of backstreets and alleyways until they reached the top of the bazaar. Mèlli had to stop and wait for Trevor from time to time as he was still feeling the effects of the bump to his head. Finally, they saw the gates of the palace ahead of them.

  ‘Phew, we’re going to make it.’ Trevor heaved a sigh of relief.

  Mèlli gasped. ‘We’ve got to go back!’, he said, holding a hand to his chest.

  Trevor laughed and continued to walk towards the gates.

  ‘No, I’m serious. I’m going back to the harbordrome.’

  Trevor saw the serious expression on his friend’s face and realized that he wasn’t joking. ‘What do you mean you’re going back? We’re here now and it’s almost dark.’

  ‘I’ve lost something,’ Mèlli said, starting back the way they came.

  Trevor scuttled after him. ‘Can’t it wait until morning? We’re already pushing it.’

  ‘No! You carry on to the palace if you want.’

  ‘I’m not letting you go on your own. It will be dark.’

  Mèlli quickened his pace. Trevor glanced back towards the palace gates and then ran to catch up with Mèlli. They walked together in silence back to the harbordrome.

  The sun had now fully set and the quayside was lit by firestone lanterns, whose silvery light cast irregular shadows across the cobbles. There was no sign of either the merchants or the group of children; the streets were deserted.

  ‘Can you tell me what you’ve lost so I can at least help you look?’ Trevor said. Mèlli put a hand to his chest and scrunched up his shirt but said nothing.

  ‘Is it your mother’s pendant?’

  Mèlli nodded and looked down at the floor.

  ‘Don’t worry. I’m sure we can find it.’ Trevor realized how precious the pendant must be to Mèlli and why he was so desperate to search for it, even if that meant being locked out of the palace for the night. He stooped down low and started searching in earnest, retracing their steps along the harbordrome wall. He stopped frequently to stand upright and scan around him, half expecting to see the group of merchants creeping up on him. Mèlli searched all around the area where the fight had taken place, watching Trevor out of the corner of one eye with an affectionate smile.

  Trevor walked all the way to the strange statue, which seemed to be gazing at him by the silvery firestone light, but there was no sign of the pendant. He stopped briefly to snatch another look out across the harbordrome. The void below him was just inky blackness and, had he not known better, he could have believed it to be the deep ocean. He sighed and started walking back, disappointed to be returning to Mèlli without the pendant; he had really wanted to be the one to find it for him.

  As he got closer, he could see that Mèlli was still searching and was just about to call out to him, when he was startled by the sound of shouting. Laughing and racing as quickly as they could, the group of urchin children came hurling out from the streets and ran across the quayside towards Trevor. He stood aside but, before they reached him, the group changed direction. He watched in disbelief as they jumped over the cliff edge on ropes, disappearing into a large sewerage drain.

  ‘Did you see the—’ Trevor started to say to Mèlli, but when he looked up he saw that a lone urchin girl remained on the quayside.

  She approached Mèlli with an outstretched arm. Mèlli clenched his fists, ready to defend himself.

  ‘Are you looking for this?’ the girl asked.

  Mèlli took half a step back before realizing that the girl was holding his mother’s pendant. Cautiously, he reached out his hand to take it. ‘Thank you,’ he said quietly, in disbelief.

  The girl flashed a quick smile and bounded off in the direction of the others, disappearing from view over the wall.

  ‘Look, that girl found it,’ Mèlli said as Trevor approached, holding the pendant out for him to see, before slipping it over his head.

  ‘Thank goodness for that. Now, can we get out of here? I think there’s someone over there on that vessel watching us.’

  But Mèlli was just staring happily at his pendant.

  Trevor put a hand on his friend’s arm and turned him round in the direction of the palace. ‘Come on,’ he said and they headed back.

  From over the cliff edge where the urchins had disappeared, a large bird swooped up over Trevor and Mèlli’s heads and soared high into the night sky. It circled around the city a few times before flying downwards into the harbordrome and landing on the deck of the galleon moored on its top level.

  Sklõff stood with his hands on his hips and waited as the Póntèkian assumed a humanoid form. He matched the tall stature of Sklõff but his face was hidden beneath the appearance of a black hooded robe. Sklõff was unflinching; he examined his nails for a moment before acknowledging T’illaá.

  ‘I was wondering when you would grace me with your presence,’ he said. ‘I hope you haven’t come here to disappoint me again.’

  ‘On the contrary. I have found your prize,’ said T’illaá.

  Sklõff’s eyes widened and his voice rose slightly. ‘You’ve found her?’

  ‘Of course. I located the girl this morning and have been observing her.’

  ‘And you’re sure it’s her?

  ‘Without a doubt.’

  Sklõff gave a humorless chuckle. ‘It seems that dwelling with those filthy street urchins paid off after all.’

  ‘Should I inform Hèvich and have his men bring her in?’ T’illaá paused. ‘Unless, of course, you would like to handle this personally.’

  ‘Don’t bother to inform Hèvich until tomorrow. Let the old man stew. And yes, I will handle this personally.’

  ‘I believe she means to leave the city. You will need to act quickly.’

  Sklõff stroked his chin in thought. ‘Let her leave.’

  ‘Let her leave?’ T’illaá said, surprised.

  ‘Yes, and you’ll be leaving with her. Watch her every move and keep me informed. Don’t lose her.’ The two men sized each other up for a moment. ‘You have your instructions.’

  T’illaá strode to the edge of the galleon and leaped off gracefully into the air, changing smoothly into the form of a bird once more and flying away into the dark skies.

  Sklõff watched as the bird vanished into the night.

  In his quarters, Sklõff popped the cork from a bottle of deep red liquor. He lifted it to his mouth and took a long swig before pouring a generous measure into a glass. Sitting down at his desk, he opened a drawer and took out a scroll. He unrolled it and weighed down the corners before studying it, sipping slowly at his drink. After a while, knowing that he could delay the inevitable no longer, he put the scroll away and opened the bottom drawer. In it was a metal box, which he lifted carefully and placed on his desk. Nervously, as if fearing what was inside, he pushe
d himself back into his chair and reached out both hands tentatively towards the box. With a sigh, he opened the lid.

  Inside was nothing but an innocuous-looking glass orb, cradled delicately between folds of silk. Sklõff stood and lifted the orb carefully from the box, holding it out on the palm of his hand. He muttered some words and removed his hand. The orb remained suspended in the air. He hurried round to the other side of the desk and paced anxiously, as the orb began to fill with a thick indigo smoke. He stopped to watch as a jet of smoke erupted through the top and expanded outwards until it hung like a thundercloud above the desk. An inhuman, slightly maniacal voice rasped from the cloud, sending a shiver of fear down Sklõff’s spine.

  ‘I trust you bring good news, Sklõff. I grow tired of your broken promises.’

  ‘The girl. I have her,’ Sklõff said.

  ‘And the items? You have them in your possession?’

  Sklõff fidgeted nervously, avoiding looking at the cloud. ‘No. The girl still has them.’

  ‘Why have you not taken them from her?’ the voice bellowed.

  ‘She is preparing to leave in search of the artifact. I thought that, if we leave her alone, she will lead us straight to it.’

  ‘Your thoughts are not why I sought your services, Sklõff. Did you misunderstand my instructions?’

  Angered by his belittlement, Sklõff turned to face the cloud of smoke for the first time and immediately his skin prickled with fear. A pair of piercing red eyes considered him with cold detachment.

  ‘I believed that it would save you time, my lord, to let the girl lead the way. You did insist that you wanted this done as swiftly as possible.’ Sklõff turned away, unable to bear the red-eyed gaze any longer.

  ‘Do not allow your scheming to interfere with my plans. Nirikö’s attack needs to retain the element of surprise. Furthermore, this girl must come to no harm before I have what I seek. I will hold you to account for any further mistakes.’

  In an instant, the eyes vanished. The cloud of smoke fell like ash and, it too, vanished before it hit the desk. Sklõff hurriedly swiped the orb from the air, slammed it into the box and threw the box into the drawer. ‘The element of surprise? Yes, my lord. We’ll see.’ Sklõff spat angrily as he fell back into his chair.