“Me? What did I do?”
“They told me they had a special captive and that the Emperor, in his mercy, had given me an opportunity to prove my faith. He needed a woman to watch the captive and to gain her trust. And to, if necessary, prevent her escape.”
“And that captive was me?”
She nodded.
“You just undid my chains,” I pointed out. “You think your Emperor will approve?”
“Lady …” Pressing her hands together, she bowed. “When he understands all you can do, I am sure my actions will meet with his blessing.”
“You wish to spy on me.”
“Lady, you are the best fighter I have ever seen. You brushed me aside as a man brushes away a moth; all my skills were useless. You said you would teach me. Tell me, lady, did you mean it?”
I course I had not meant it. I had only wanted to escape. I still wanted to escape, and I would too, once she showed me how to get into the city. I took a deep breath, to explain these things, and braced myself for her disappointment.
Shush, child, Phileas said. I am older than you, and far wiser. Let me handle this.
Where have you been? I could have used you earlier.
Nonsense. You managed just fine. Then these words came from my mouth: “Of course I will teach you, Mai-Long. You are brave and courageous; you are a worthy disciple.”
Mai-Long’s eyes seemed to glow with happiness.
See? We tell her what she wants. Now she is happy, and we get what we need.
Phileas stole my voice again. “To teach one such as you, Mai-Long, I need a special weapon. This is a test of your worthiness, Mai-Long. Can you fulfill it?”
Oh please! This is ridiculous! You’re talking like some character in a saga.
But Mai-Long quivered with eagerness. “Tell me, lady – what do you need?”
And at the end, when we leave and Mai-Long realizes I lied to her? What will happen then?
Take a long hard look at this girl, Lady. What do you see? There was no teasing in Phileas’ voice now.
I had been seeing Mai-Long as a young girl, shy and furtive with ambitions beyond her station. Like me, she wanted freedom, so I had felt sorry for her. I should not have done. In her heart, Mai-Long was a servant of her Emperor; in his name she would kill without compunction. The only reason I was still alive was because I had something she wanted. Even her father had meant less than her own ambition.
Was I like her? I too had killed, more than once.
Child, said Phileas firmly. You are nothing like that.
“Mai-Long,” Phileas said. “You know the courtyard with the silver fountain?”
She nodded eagerly. “Yes, I know it.”
“At the base of that fountain lies a thing of great value and magic. Mai-Long, to prove yourself worthy of my teaching, you must find this thing and bring it to me.”
Actually, this was smart. The Kamaye might be looking for me, but they would be unlikely to be concerned by Mai-Long.
Thank you, said Phileas smugly.
“And then …” Mai-Long asked.
“And then, Mai-Long,” said Phileas, “I will make of you the greatest warrior the world has ever seen.”
Oh that’s ridiculous, I thought.
But Mai-Long threw herself at my feet. “My lady!”
I tugged her hair. “What are you waiting for? Go! Bring me the weapon.”
She jumped to her feet.
“Also,” I added quickly, “bring food. And warm clothing.” Because someone had to be practical.
Chapter Fourteen
Inside The City
The Black Stronghold was both the same and completely different from Will’s last visit. The high walls were unchanged, but many of the poorer houses were badly damaged, and some had completely disintegrated. Tiles and spars of wood blocked the streets and everywhere, there was a smell of death. People went about with scarves tied about their faces. However, the city continued; tracks were cleared through the rubble, and the more resilient (or mercenary) inhabitants had set up colored tents as market stalls. These vendors pounced on the travelers eagerly, bartering for the goods they carried.
TeSin shook them off. “Even in earthquake, stallholders fleece travelers.”
Eventually they reached a plaza that seemed relatively free of wreckage. Braziers glowed brightly against the cold, and many of the tents had torches lit. Hawkers of spiced meat did a brisk trade.
“I know this place.” Will stared about, trying to place the landmarks he knew.
“No you don’t,” N’tombe said. “You have never been here before, Will Baker.”
The merchants were cheerfully happy to accept any type of coinage, provided the coins were the right color. Gold was best, TeSin said, translating, but silver was acceptable. They bought a warm meal and sat on a bench at the rear of a food tent to eat.
A family of steppe dwellers, thickly muffled in woolen scarves and fringed hats, sat beside them. They called loudly to each other, cheerful despite the ruins.
“Dana is here,” N’tombe said.
Will felt a surge of hope. “She’s in the market?” He looked about him, but all he could see was groups of families, enjoying one another’s company in the warmth of the fires. A baby watched him solemnly from wide dark eyes.
N’tombe frowned. “She is somewhere in the city.” She turned her head, as though searching. “I do not know where.”
TeSin shifted restlessly. “Place feel different.”
“There’s been an earthquake,” Will said impatiently. Why were they just sitting here, when Dana was close? “Of course it’s changed. You think we can reach her today?”
“You see slaves? At gate?” TeSin asked.
N’tombe nodded. “The magician.” She pulled meat from the skewer.
“Pah! The magic workers have no honor. But I not speak of magician. I speak of slaves.”
“Slaves?” Will asked. “What of them?”
“They building something. In the field outside gate. Remember?”
N’tombe swallowed, wiped her mouth with her sleeve. “A platform.”
“Yet grass is sacred. Will, I think they build a place of execution.”
“Dana!”
TeSin nodded. “I think, yes.”
When Will leapt to his feet, his stool fell over with a clatter. The folk about them suddenly fell silent.
“Will.” N’tombe put a hand on his arm. “We don’t know this for certain.”
“Ask them,” Will said roughly to TeSin, pointing at the steppe dwellers. “They’ll know.”
TeSin looked at N’Tombe, as though seeking her permission, which irritated Will. “Just ask them!”
“Will,” N’tombe said gently. “We don’t want to draw attention.”
“I don’t care,” Will said. “I need to know. If he won’t ask them, I will.”
TeSin crossed to the family at the next bench. The men nodded at him, and some smiled with toothless gums. An old woman offered him a bowl of dark liquid; TeSin bowed to her, and sipped courteously from it. Throughout their travels, the Noyan always looked different, foreign. But here in his own city he fitted in; this was his place, his home. And now he was home, would he still need Will and N’Tombe? Will drummed his fingers impatiently on the table, until N’tombe put her hand over his, and silenced him.
“TeSin. Can we trust him?” Will asked.
“Thus far,” N’tombe murmured, “he has proved trustworthy.”
“Trustworthy! He tried to kill me.”
“Recently he has proved trustworthy.” She looked over at TeSin. The man was patting a small child on the head. “I have wondered,” she said thoughtfully, “if something happens to those returned from the darkness. TeSin should have died, yet Dana saved him. What do you think that does to a man?”
Will said nothing.
“It creates a binding. A deep binding that even death may not break.”
A wave of jealousy washed across Will. How dare thi
s Noyan, a merciless killer, be bonded with Dana?
N’tombe squeezed his fingers. “She is alive.”
“You’re sure?”
“I am certain. And she loves you. I know this, also.”
Will looked away.
“We must leave,” TeSin said abruptly.
“What did you learn?”
TeSin gestured to them and they followed him out into the night. When they were far from the brightness of the marketplace, the Noyan beckoned them close. “The sacrifice is planned for two days hence.”
“Two days! Why?”
“The Emperor believes earthquake means gods angry.”
Will wanted to shout. “So he plans to kill Dana?”
“Peace,” N’tombe said gently.
TeSin looked around, checking the shadows, then whispered low, “Rumor is, bright one try to escape.”
“Bright one” was TeSin’s term for Dana. “What happened?”
TeSin looked worried. “Men say … shadow catch her.”
“The Kamaye,” said N’Tombe.
TeSin nodded. “I think. Yes.”
Will felt sick. He remembered the Kamaye: the flames rising, the voice whispering in the dark. “We have to find her.”
“Not easy,” TeSin tapped his lip. “If Kamaye have her.”
“N’Tombe?” Will said. “Lady? What should we do?”
“I …” she hesitated. “I do not know. I must think.”
“Also,” TeSin said, “there is, what do you call it? A time when people must be inside. Not on streets?”
“Curfew?” N’tombe said.
“Yes. Curfew. Soldiers patrol soon.”
To have come so far! “We have to do something!”
“We must find a place to stay. Somewhere safe and hidden. Where we can keep the horses,” said N’Tombe.
“You’re looking for a room?” Will felt frantic; they needed to search, to find Dana. She was nearby, she was alive.
“Out here in the open, we will be found.” N’tombe said.
“But …”
“Will, Dana told you something, didn’t she?”
“What do you mean?”
“It is fine to have secrets, Will,” N’tombe said gently. “Secrets keep us safe. But now is not the time. Will, what did the Princess tell you?”
“I know what it is,” TeSin said. “Bright one spoke to me. A stone of sorrow.”
“You?” Will said angrily. “Why did she tell you?”
“A stone of sorrow.” N’tombe murmured. “Of course! Will, did Dana tell you where such a thing might be found?” Her voice was strained, as though in worry or sudden desperate hope.
“Perhaps.” Suddenly, Will felt foolish. N’tombe was right; now was not the time to keep such things private. “There’s a fountain. Made of silver.”
TeSin nodded. “I know it. Near Imperial Palace.”
“All right.” N’tombe said quietly. “This is what we do. We find a place for the horses, and then, and only then, we travel together to find this courtyard.” N’tombe raised a hand. “Do not argue with me, Will. I am tired.”
“I can find it by myself,” Will muttered.
“It would take you too long,” she said firmly. “And you need me. Because I can keep us hidden. Do you doubt me when I say this?”
With a sigh, Will shook his head. She was right. “No.”
“All right.” She nodded briskly. “Well then. Let us go.”
* * *
The moon was high by the time they found an inn. An emaciated ex-soldier had repurposed an old mansion into a hostelry, simply by strewing the stone floor with straw. After recognizing TeSin as an officer (with that strange perception that all soldiers seemed to have), the innkeeper agreed they could have the last available space, and threw in a bag of oats free of charge.
The other guests were an odd mix of merchants, dispossessed citizens and mercenaries. They stared at Will and his fellows with hard eyes and kept their belongings close and their weapons closer. There was little banter, and folk settled to sleep early, prompted, no doubt, by the innkeeper, who went about snuffing out torches as soon as the curfew gong rang.
“When all are asleep,” N’tombe breathed, “we leave.”
Will lay in the straw, cloak wrapped about his shoulders, and waited. The high roof of the mansion was cracked, and through it he could see the stars. He felt amazed that he’d traveled so far yet the stars were unchanged. He closed his eyes. He thought he felt the world turning beneath him; that the stars were falling.
“Hide!” shouted a voice, harsh with fear, and he jolted awake.
Around him he heard the heavy breathing of men sleeping. A horse whickered softly. The moon shone bone-white through the cracked masonry. He watched it for a time, before his eyes closed again.
N’tombe shook him awake at midnight. Quietly the travelers gathered their weapons, and tiptoed their way through the broken doorway. A dog, chained in the shadow, growled a warning, but N’tombe whispered Hush!, and it calmed. Curious, Will tried the same mind-whisper and the dog lay down, face on front paws and closed his eyes. TeSin glanced curiously at Will but said nothing.
Chapter Fifteen
A Fountain Of Silver
“Gather the shadows,” N’tombe whispered. Will felt her gather the darkness and settle it about her shoulders like a cloak. “Your turn,” she said.
He tried to copy her, but stealthworking felt hard.
“Pretend you are hiding from an enemy.” She made a face. “Not that any pretense is required.”
His breath formed puffs of steam.
“Feel the shadows,” she murmured. “Look, behind the pillars.”
“I can’t see anything.”
“Exactly.” She nodded. “The shadows hide the world. Yet, in the act of hiding, the darkness can be seen. Tell me, how does the darkness feel?”
Cold, he thought. The dark is cold. He shivered. As am I. Closing his eyes, he traced the half-hidden hollows, feeling for the shade that lives at the edge of light. I am stone. He thought of small blind things that scurry hidden in the dark and of unending, deathless silence.
Dimly, Will felt the concealed awareness of N’Tombe, and behind her, the patient silence of TeSin, and the stones of the Stronghold, broken and damaged but still strong; still hard. In their shade lay threads of cold dampness; with his mind he tugged at them. He had to pull hard, so hard that to Will the shadows began to feel real; tangible, like fabric you can lift and hold in your hands. And then, with a rustle like tearing silk, the damp shadow threads parted. He staggered, and almost lost his balance at the sudden speed of it.
“Are you all right?” N’tombe asked.
He took a deep breath, and nodded. Strange, how natural this all felt. If, a year back, anyone had asked him if he could lift shadows, he would have thought they were mad. And yet, here he was, following the magic of the enchantress like it was the easiest thing in the world.
No, he thought, panting. Not the easiest thing. But still, he could do it! He could move the shadows!
TeSin touched his arm, nodded at a ruined building. “We go that way.”
TeSin didn’t need a cloak of shadows. He could move as silent as the dead, and this was his city; although the place had changed beyond measure, the man evidently still knew his way about.
Shrouded in silence, they stole through the ruined city, moving from damaged building to damaged building. They paused often, waiting for N’tombe to probe ahead with her thoughts. There was little enough activity. Plenty of rats and the groups of guards patrolling the night city, but the soldiers never glanced at the travelers as they stood, motionless in the dark.
The three eased through broken gateways, where the gates hung from shattered hinges. Through the quarters, the damage varied. Save for fallen roof tiles, the schoolyards seemed intact, but the poorer quarters were almost destroyed. But everywhere throughout the city the walls were unscathed, so in the most damaged quarters the guards walked
along the ramparts, never descending to the ground.
It wasn’t only the guards on patrol. Once, N’tombe waved them into silence just as a horse trotted around the corner. The clop of its hooves echoed in the quiet city and roused the sentries to attention. Archers slapped arrows to bowstrings, pointing them in the direction of the noise. Will held his breath. TeSin shrank into the shadows, so only his eyes could be seen as, out from the shadows, rode a hooded figure.
“Magician,” breathed N’Tombe.
The rider paused, looked up at the wall, and raised a hand. Will felt the brush of his mind – it smelt of sulfur – and the guards’ hands fell, weaponless, to their sides. The magician called out angrily. Apologetically, the captain replied. The magician hissed, then kicked his horse forward into the night.
“We saw him earlier,” Will whispered. “Remember? At the gate?”
“Quiet!” N’tombe said.
The horse paused, and the rider turned his head, staring into the shadows. N’tombe seemed to freeze. Will held his breath. From the ramparts above, the captain asked a question, but the magician did not reply.
Will longed to rub his nose but dared not move. A guard dropped his weapon with a clatter; the captain barked an order; the soldiers marched away, their steps echoing through the still city. The magician put back his hood. His unkempt beard made his face look strangely twisted, but his eyes glittered brightly. His horse moved forward, slowly, almost hesitantly. The travelers stayed motionless until finally, the animal walked faster. Slowly, the noise of its hooves disappeared into the night.
They waited, silent in the shadows, until they were certain the rider would not return. N’tombe signaled. “Come!”
TeSin lead them toward the mount and the white-streaked stone cliffs that served as foundation for the Imperial Palace. Far above them, the palace, dimly visible against the stars, appeared unharmed, but here in the courtyard the damage was evident. In the center, a blackened statue lay in a cracked and broken pond. Its shape, long and thin, with gnarled branches like arms, reminded him of a corpse.
“Here,” TeSin said.
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