“That is when I came here,” she said, her voice returning to the solidity of the present. “I ran away from my home and had decided to seek revenge on the Guardian in any way I could. But Baro discovered me and told me that if I wished to take my revenge, I would have to survive. And to do that I would have to leave the city’s surface.
“Thus am I here,” she concluded.
Michael waited before speaking, eventually finding only the words, “I’m sorry.” Then adding, remembering his own recent experience, “The Guardian seems quite happy to wreck families, doesn’t he?”
Silha looked at him as if to enquire what he meant, but he didn’t want to talk about his mother, so decided to ask another question first, “So is that why most people are here? For reasons like yours?”
“Oh,” she replied, “Some are here because a friend or family member was taken from them. Some have a Weaving themselves, as I have explained. Some were simply lost and without home and have been welcomed amongst us. And some, of course, are criminals, seeking safety from the consequences of their actions.”
They didn’t speak any more after that, and Silha soon rose and went back to whatever tasks were hers to perform. Her story: the stealing of a boy from his family, was something that struck a little too close to home for him, and he was glad that there were no more interruptions for the next few marks.
***
The circular room in which Michael was waiting was almost full by the time Baro came and found him, saying that the people were eager to hear his tale of the Wanderers. He led Michael over to a table against the far wall and after announcing him to the room motioned him to climb up. The room wasn’t quite full, and probably could only have held two hundred people if packed, but looking out at the expectant faces, Michael felt there could have been a thousand and he wouldn’t have been any more nervous.
Michael would later reflect on the fact that there were no children to be found anywhere in the tunnels, but right now, all he could think of were his nerves of addressing so many people hungry for his paltry story.
But he told what he could. The nerves were obvious in his voice to start with, but eventually calmed, though he related his time amongst the Elahish in bitty fragments as different memories appeared. If his public speaking teacher from his school in England had been assessing him, she would have been appalled and failed him miserably, but the faces here were held rapt by every word he spoke. The expressions showed awe when he spoke of the circular tents with animal shapes as uni-directional windows; of heat stones; of the musicians and artists; of the foods created that were beyond divine.
It transpired that of the hundred and eighty people or so in total who inhabited the tunnels, there were less than a dozen who had a Weaving; and those were mostly warriors of one type or another, with three artists: a sculptor, a singer, and someone who played a musical instrument somewhat like a recorder. It seemed that as the arts were also encouraged intensively amongst the children of Aperocalsa these individuals had managed to avoid detection when their Weavings had first appeared, once again at first being mistaken for being merely talented. Only Baro’s Weaving was neither Warrior nor Artist, being what he called a Fire Weaver: though that could certainly be put to good use in a fight Michael remembered with a shudder. He later learned that Baro had been the only child in living memory to have been born in the tunnels.
When he had finished relating what he had remembered, Baro facilitated questions, and it seemed to Michael that everyone present had several, so that they broke for lunch but then resumed the session afterwards. The group was fascinated by the tiniest details, not just of the Weavings he had seen, but of the life of the Elahish, as if they were people from myth being brought to life for them.
By the time they finally finished, Michael was exhausted, but even as the crowd dispersed talking excitedly amongst themselves, there were individuals who approached him with ‘just one final question’.
Once evening arrived, announced by Silha bringing him a meal, things had finally quietened, and it was his turn to quietly ask about the lives of those who lived here, and they talked until it was time to retire. Michael was pleased with how he had evaded questions about how he had arrived amongst the Elahish, and about why he couldn’t return to them, but Silha was more persistent when they were alone.
“But you have lived amongst them. Surely you would find them again, and they would welcome you,” she insisted.
“It’s not that simple,” he replied. “I can’t go back. I don’t even know where their camps are.”
“But why not? You explained that the Stay – that is what you called it – was next to the river. It is almost certain to be the same river that flows south from the city. If you follow it, you will eventually find them.”
“I’ll find their autumn Stay,” he explained. “It’s not autumn. They won’t be there.”
“But it will be autumn in a few moons. You could stay with us until then, and return when the season is near.”
Her persistence was starting to annoy him, and it required some effort to keep his response from sounding irritable, “Why is it so important to you Silha? Maybe I just want to stay here now.”
She paused for a minute, looking at him carefully before responding, “What else is there that keeps you from returning, my friend? Any one of us would travel to live amongst these Elahish if it were possible. Perhaps it is important to me because I wish to accompany you to them, to see if they would have me live with their number. Certainly their life in the forest sounds preferable to a life in dark tunnels, do you not think?”
Michael knew he didn’t have an answer now, and took a deep breath before replying, “It’s just not that simple. I kind of turned up unexpected next door to their camp, and it’s safe to say that they didn’t all trust me. Even when their Sooth Weaver told them I wasn’t lying, one of them tried to kill me.” The memory of Berah coming at him with a knife still filled him with fear.
“Then, I just disappeared. And not only did I disappear, I did it just when they were being attacked.”
He looked away now, “I don’t even know if...” he was about to say Aneh’s name, but stopped, “…if my friends survived. But if they did, they will all think I’m a traitor now, and that I had something to do with the attack and ran away when it came. That’s why I can’t go back.”
Silha remained quiet for a minute before again speaking, her voice now soft, “And was one of your… friends, a young woman by any chance?”
“What?” he instinctively responded. How does she know? “Well… yes… but what’s that got to do with anything?”
When she raised an eyebrow, the irritation rose in his voice, “No, it’s not like that. We’re friends. Just friends. We do have a connection, but… well, it’s just not like that. She’s bound to be Entwined to some handsome guy by now anyway.”
He felt his face burn as he spoke the words and started to stand so he could walk away, but Silha placed her hand gently on his arm, “Perhaps you will tell me more of this Entwining at a later time. I would like to hear of it.”
Her words calmed him, and he settled back on the ground as she continued, “But for now, let me say one thing only. Do not run from a love that you only fear is unreturned. For if you do, your heart will never be complete. Perhaps there are those amongst the Elahish who fear you and who will suspect the worst. But if the woman of whom you speak shares but a portion of the feelings I believe you hold for her, then she will not think ill of you.”
Michael wished her words were true, but knew that they couldn’t be. He finally excused himself by saying that he needed to sleep. But though he was tired, he again slept little.
***
The following morning, Baro came to collect him, explaining that he would begin to show him the tunnels, thereby enabling him to navigate them without becoming lost. He gratefully accepted the offer, in part for a change of scenery, in part because learning his way around the tunnels would be a highly usefu
l skill if he was going to make his home here, but also so that he wouldn’t have to speak to Silha today. Their discussion the previous evening had touched a nerve he preferred left alone.
The torches they carried were covered with an unusual resin that apparently would burn for many marks, and armed with their lights, they set off. Baro explained that the circular room that they used as their gathering place was just over halfway down the city, though close to the mountains. This gave them the maximum number of opportunities for escape if the Guardian ever sent his full force down here. They could run into the mountains, they could escape through the city gates – though that would be more dangerous as they would have to go above ground to do so – or as a last resort they could leap into a river and be thrown over the cliff edge in a waterfall. This last option was the most dangerous and they could only do it if they were under the south-west edge of the city near to where the water burst from the cliff face, and not too high above the lake. Otherwise, they would drown in the powerful currents. But the first waterfall that appeared as the cliff rose along the edge of the city was only a little less than a hundred feet high, and the lake was apparently deep, so they held a slim hope for survival if they entered the watercourse that fed it.
As they walked, Baro showed Michael the secret marks in the walls, displayed at corners and crossroads. These indicated their position underneath the city. Without knowing what they were, a person would think they were no more than natural lines within the stone, but once Baro had pointed them out Michael could see that the patterns were too regular. Horizontal lines indicating their east to west positioning, and vertical lines for north to south. They didn’t seem too complicated, but it would take a little while for him to store them in his brain, and he knew he would want a companion for at least a few dawns before he ventured out on his own.
When they came to the first river, Baro waited for Michael to try and discover how they could cross. After spying every part of the wall, river edge, and ceiling he eventually decided that the only way to cross must be to swim and was about to jump in when Baro firmly grabbed his arm.
“Unless you wish death here, that is not a good idea,” he explained. “You have to hold your breath for too long, and we are perhaps two hundred feet above the lake. Even should you manage to avoid inhaling water, your descent to the lake would not be comfortable.”
When Michael responded by raising his eyebrows and holding his hands up to admit defeat in his task, Baro smiled and led him back along the tunnel, stopping after a dozen paces or so. For a moment, Michael thought they were staring at a blank wall, but eventually he realised that there was something that looked odd about it, and when Baro took a step towards it and disappeared, Michael reached forward with his hand. At first he touched only stone, but as he moved his hand along the wall the cold touch of the stone fell away.
Moving to the empty space he realised that there was a narrow opening in the stone that was carefully concealed by the angle of the rock walls of the tunnel. It was possible that someone would accidentally find one, but the angle at which they were facing the opening would have to be exact, and even then the way the small corridor bent round itself it would keep it virtually invisible. Certainly it had been hidden to Michael. After entering the narrow space, he found that after an early bend, the passage opened up and he found Baro waiting for him, a wide grin on his face.
“That’s clever,” Michael said. “How do you know where to look?”
“Follow me,” replied Baro.
The older man then led them down the tunnel before coming to another bend, a narrowing of the passageway, and then exiting again into the main tunnel. Looking to his left, Michael could just see the edge of the river and realised they had crossed it.
“Look up here,” directed Baro, indicating above the passage they had just exited. Once again, to the untrained eye it looked like nothing more than the natural lines of aged rock, but now that it was being pointed out to him, he could make out a line shaped like a wave.
“Does that symbol always mean it’s a path across a river?” Michael asked.
Baro nodded. “We have discovered a handful of other secret passages that lead to nothing more than large hidden rooms, but there are likely yet more of which we have not yet learned.”
“You mean you didn’t make them?” Michael asked. He didn’t know why he had assumed that the tunnel dwellers had created the passages. Those who had originally created the tunnels would have needed a way to cross the rivers, too. But he didn’t know why the builders would have made the river crossings hidden.
“It would be near impossible for us to build new tunnels here,” replied Baro. “The Stone Weavers who created our home strengthened the stone so that the city above would never be at risk of falling into underground passageways.” Placing his hand on the wall, he continued, “We would not be able to create the tools that would penetrate this rock.”
He now indicated the symbol above the entrance with his eyes, “These symbols were placed there by the Stone Weavers. And there are likely other shapes that we have not yet discovered.”
They continued on their way after that, Baro occasionally stopping where a ladder rose into a high cavern indicating an exit to the city. Most of these were known to the city administration and were carefully watched. But there had been a Stone Weaver amongst the tunnel dwellers in the long past who had managed to create a handful of new exits that were unknown to the Guardian and his servants, and which Baro and his people now used when they needed to get to the surface to spy, or to rescue a child. That is how they had surfaced when they had attempted to capture Michael many moons before, and also how they had so quickly vanished when their kidnapping had failed.
As they approached another river, Baro indicated Michael should attempt to locate the secret crossing, conversing as Michael began to hunt for the symbol hidden in the rock.
“Our people have long yearned to know of the Elahish,” Baro said. “We had heard of the name they use for themselves, but did not even know if that were truth. The Wanderers or Forest People are how they are known amongst the city-folk.”
“Why haven’t you gone to find them?” Michael asked, still examining the rock wall in front of him. “I’m sure that if you turned up with them, you’d be welcome.” Despite the ambiguity that had been felt towards his own arrival amongst the Elahish, he was sure that the presence of Weavers amongst this group would ensure their safety. “Their Sooth Weavers will know you’re telling the truth.”
“If only it were that simple,” Baro sighed. “In truth, there are many reasons why we could not join the Elahish. First, we cannot find them. Every few summers a small number of our people go and search the forests, but we have not yet discovered them. We have even searched the Cedrill Hills,” he laughed. “Perhaps with your description of their Stay by the river that will change next time.
“Also,” he continued, “while there is also a hunger to learn more of the gift that is a Weaving, most here do not have one, and they have only known a life in the city and in these dark caverns. A life wandering the forests would be such a change as to create great difficulties for many. So while there is wonder amongst our people, there is also fear of the consequences of such a move, and it may not be wise to force it.
“But more important than those reasons,” he concluded, “is that if we were to leave there would be no-one to rescue the children. All who dwell here have found refuge amongst our people when there was no other. We would not abandon others who find themselves in similar circumstances.”
Michael was still searching the wall of the tunnel. He had investigated a couple of grooves that he thought may have been hidden symbols but they weren’t and his frustration was growing, but he pressed ahead with questions to divert his growing irritation, “I’ve heard about the Cedrill Hills before. My mother mentioned going there to look for me. She called the place a mystery.” An inevitable ache stabbed at his stomach as he mentioned his mother. But he kept h
is focus on the wall ahead, doing his best to ignore it. “What’s there in those hills?”
“It is no mystery,” Baro answered, “In truth, there is no-one there in the rolling hills. There is a legend that when the people first arrived in this part of Aylosia, only a part of the company stayed here to build the city of Aperocalsa. The others, it is said, continued south, where they settled amongst the Cedrill Hills. There they had mighty Weavers, and established for themselves a home that had nature at its heart. Buildings were Woven over generations from trees that reached to the sky and were as wide as a dozen men. The plants and rivers were magnified with the skills of the Weavers to produce in plenty and great beauty. No man or beast were ever in want.”
Michael stopped his search briefly to look back at Baro, but the man shook his head, “But even by the time that Jashmarael was born, this was considered only myth. And as I say, we have searched the hills. They do not exist, and we would not return willingly.”
At Michael’s questioning look, Baro added, “It is a dark place, where heaven itself rains fear. I suspect that is why the legends arose. If your mother walked those hills in search for you, she was a brave woman indeed.”
Michael simply nodded, turning back to face the wall, where he suddenly recognised the symbol that indicated a river crossing. “Aha!” he exclaimed. “Found it.” He carefully walked towards it and felt his way to the opening, Baro then following him through.
They spent much of the rest of the afternoon chatting as Baro led Michael through the tunnels that were far vaster than Michael had expected. He had asked why they needed to save the children when the Guardian sent them to live with the Elahish, and then felt guilty for being so naïve when he heard the answer.
“You really believe the Guardian releases them to live happily amongst other Weavers?” Baro asked incredulously. Michael felt both embarrassment for asking such a question, but also an anger resurface as Baro continued, “We do not know where the children are led. But the Guardian despises those with a Weaving and would exterminate them. Rest assured wherever the children are led it will not be to peaceful lives.”
Dreams and Shadows (The Aylosian Chronicles Book 1) Page 31