With a roar, Aphrim swung the fireball at him. It came close enough to blister his nose, without actually striking him. The bookseller instinctively drew back. For a second he stood poised on the edge of the step, arms flapping wildly in a vain attempt to keep his balance. Then gravity took him. Issuing a high-pitched shriek, he fell backwards and disappeared. They heard him thud against every step as he tumbled back the way he’d come.
Aphri tutted and wagged an admonishing finger at her twin. ‘You can’t play with people like that,’ she said. ‘They break.’
As one, they returned their attention to Caldason.
Kutch was at the foot of the juddering stairs when the shop owner bounced down them. He descended like a drunken acrobat, in a confusion of flailing limbs and disarrayed clothing, and came to rest in Kutch’s shadow.
‘Are you all right?’ Kutch exclaimed, bending over him.
The bookseller moaned. He sat up painfully, shaking off the hand Kutch extended to help him. Refocusing, he stared at the boy. ‘You’re trying to ruin me,’ he whined.
‘Of course we’re not. I mean…it’s just a misunderstanding. I’m sure we–’
The fight resumed noisily upstairs. With surprising agility for a member of a cerebral profession who’d just fallen down a flight of stairs, the man leapt to his feet. ‘You’ll pay for this!’ he raved. ‘Just you wait ’til the watch gets here!’
‘No, don’t!’ Kutch pleaded. ‘There’s no need for–’
But the bookseller was halfway to the door, moving at speed despite a new-found limp. Kutch almost went after him, thought better of it and returned anxiously to the bottom of the stairs. ‘Reeth!’ he bellowed.
‘Your boyfriend’s calling you,’ Aphri taunted. She slashed at Caldason and he parried.
‘Stay away, Kutch!’ he yelled. ‘Get out!’
He was facing both of them simultaneously now. The female tried for a low sweep, aiming at his legs. Caldason leapt over it. When he landed, the pliant floor shook mightily.
Aphri had to retreat to let her partner use his ball and chain. This time, Caldason side-stepped and got himself parallel to it. He thrust out his sword and let the chain wrap itself around the blade. One good tug wrenched the chain from Aphrim’s hands. Then, as a man might rid himself of a poisonous snake curled round a stick, Caldason shook off the chain with a flip of his wrist. Sliding along the blade and off, the ball and chain clanked across the floor. Parted from their glamour host, and energy source, they instantly transmuted to flickering sparks and in short order turned to ashes.
The twins weren’t happy about it. They charged together, looking to overwhelm Caldason. He deflected both their blades. A flurry of pounding swordplay followed as he engaged them in turn, blade flashing from one to the other. Brisk and furious, the three-way duel allowed no margin for error. One slip would be his last.
He succeeded in wrong-footing them, retreated a few steps and grabbed the side of a bookcase. A powerful heave toppled it. Scores of volumes tumbled from the shelves as the massive slab of furniture came down. It landed with a resounding crash between him and his foes. The impact made the floor shake.
What Caldason didn’t reckon on was setting off a domino effect. The cases on either side of the one he’d felled began to sway, disgorging books. A second later they came down, one after the other, smashing to the floor with a deafening reverberation. Nearby, one end of a floorboard flew up like a child’s see-saw, exposing the rusty nails that held it down. Another followed, imitating a catapult’s arm.
Aphri vaulted each of the obstacles keeping her from Caldason. Aphrim ran to skirt them. They came at him head-on and from the side, and the fight resumed.
The floor was making ominous sounds, the room shuddering.
Then the world lurched crazily.
In a neighbouring street, Serrah and Tanalvah were making their way through the mid-town crowds.
‘What’s going on over there?’ Tanalvah said, pointing to the other side of the road.
A skinny, dark-haired man in a dishevelled state was running along the pavement, waving his arms about and shouting.
Serrah shrugged. ‘Don’t know. Can you hear what he’s saying?’
‘Something about the watch, I think. And sandals. It could have been vandals.’
‘Big cities. You get all sorts.’
‘Perhaps he’s one of those poor deluded people you see talking to themselves on the streets sometimes.’
‘Could be.’
They walked on. The shouting man faded into the distance.
‘You don’t think…’
‘What, Tan?’
‘You don’t think that man could have had anything to do with Reeth and Kutch, do you?’
‘Why should he? What possible trouble could they get into visiting a bookshop? Ah, there it is.’
No sooner had they spotted the shop than a sound like thunder came from it. Clouds of dust billowed from its open door.
Caldason and the twins were still fighting when the floor collapsed. It dropped like the deck of a rapidly sinking ship. Timber, masonry, plaster, thousands of books and three hapless figures plummeted through the ceiling of the ground floor. In a chorus of tremendous crashes the tables and unsecured bookcases fell with them.
A blizzard of countless fluttering pages descended, followed by the fusty grime of ages to garnish the chaos.
An after-the-storm silence blanketed the scene, broken only by the sound of an occasional book late in falling.
‘Whoooaa! Do it again! Do it again!’ Aphri, still on her feet, was grinning, jubilant as a child just off a fairground ride. Her glamour twin was nearby, sitting incongruously on a heap of books, cross-legged, an impassive expression on its face.
Half covered in debris, Caldason lifted his head. He found he was still clutching his sword. Disentangling himself from the wreckage, he got up.
‘Still alive?’ Aphrim snorted petulantly.
‘We must rectify that, my dear,’ Aphri told him.
They started to move in on the Qalochian.
‘Hey!’
All heads turned. Serrah and Tanalvah were scrambling over the rubble towards them, and Serrah had her sword drawn.
‘Playtime’s over,’ Aphri decided. ‘Come.’ She beckoned Aphrim.
He ran to her, and in to her, merging instantly. Aphri twitched ever so slightly as she reabsorbed her twin. Then she turned on her heel and streaked to the door. Tanalvah drew back as she passed, appalled at what she’d just seen. Serrah made to give chase.
‘Let her go!’ Caldason called out, re-sheathing his blade. ‘Chances are she already looks like somebody else.’
‘What happened?’ Tanalvah said.
‘And what the hell was that?’ Serrah wanted to know.
Caldason ignored them. ‘Kutch?’ he yelled. ‘Kutch?’
‘Here!’ a muffled voice responded.
It came from the foot of the staircase, which remained standing, just. They set to clearing the debris, and found him curled up under the protective wooden slats. Reeth and Serrah took an arm each and pulled him out.
‘Are you all right?’ Tanalvah inquired anxiously.
‘Yes, I think so.’ He seemed more excited than upset as he dusted himself off. ‘I got a peek, from back there. It was a meld, Reeth! I’ve never seen one before. They’re really rare.’
‘And the woman was wearing a masking glamour, pretending to be old,’ Caldason said.
‘Neither sounds cheap,’ Serrah ventured.
‘Far from it.’
‘And they…she was after you?’ Tanalvah asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Looks like you have a complicating factor in your life, Reeth,’ Serrah announced.
‘Just what I needed.’
She saw blood on his sleeve. ‘You’re hurt.’
He hadn’t noticed, and hardly gave it a glance. ‘It doesn’t matter. You know how quickly I heal.’
‘Does that make it less painful?’
Serrah took hold of the fabric and ripped it apart. He had an ugly gash running along the outside of his arm. Tearing off a portion of her own, much cleaner, shirt sleeve, she proceeded to bind the wound. There was something almost tender about the way she did it.
‘I hate to break this up,’ Tanalvah said, ‘but–’
‘Yes,’ Caldason agreed, finishing the last knot himself, ‘we have to get out of here.’ He caught Serrah’s eyes and added softly, ‘Thanks.’
They headed for the door. Kutch hung back, surveying the mess.
‘Come on!’ Serrah chided.
‘But I didn’t even get a book,’ he grumbled, slinking after her.
11
‘A symbiote?’
‘Ssshhh! I wouldn’t want the children to hear any of this, Kinsel. They’ll have nightmares.’
‘Sorry,’ Rukanis replied in a softer voice, glancing at the half-open bedroom door across the hall. ‘It’s one of the drawbacks of being a singer. I’m always projecting to an audience.’
She smiled. ‘Fool.’
‘Anyway, I think Teg and Lirrin are more resilient than you believe, Tan.’
‘Perhaps. But after what they’ve been through they deserve a break from the world’s harshness.’
‘Absolutely. But we were talking about what you went through today.’
‘Oh, I wasn’t that involved, not really. We arrived after it was all over. Except for seeing that…’
‘I think they’re commonly called melds.’
‘Yes. But they’re not common, fortunately.’
‘I always thought they were a myth.’
‘The one we saw was real enough.’
Kinsel sipped his wine. ‘Poor Reeth. He seems to attract trouble wherever he goes.’
In the glow of the glamour orbs, Tanalvah’s face took on a harder set. ‘His sort always does.’
‘His sort? Aren’t you…his sort?’
‘No. I’m not talking about the race we share.’
‘Oh.’
‘Don’t look at me that way, Kinsel.’
‘It’s just not like you. You normally show such generosity of spirit to everyone. It’s one of the things I love you for.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘But you seem to have this blind spot when it comes to Reeth.’
‘I’d call it the opposite: I can see all too clearly what he’s capable of.’ She noticed his expression and sighed. ‘All right, maybe I am being unfair. But I’ve never got over feeling uneasy about him, and a bit frightened, if I’m being honest.’
‘I think you misjudge him. Surely you of all people can understand where his combative tendencies come from? It’s your mutual birthright, isn’t it?’
‘I may be of the Qaloch, but I wasn’t brought up the way he was.’
‘Only because circumstances prevented it.’
‘You think blood will out, is that it?’
‘I’m saying that Qalochians have been renowned as warriors for centuries. That kind of legacy goes deep.’
‘I wouldn’t have thought it was one that appealed to a pacifist, dear.’
‘It’s just an observation. I’m not saying it’s good or bad.’
‘It isn’t about Reeth’s heritage, our heritage, it’s…A man like that, a maverick, can ruin things for other people.’ She grew more intense. ‘I wouldn’t allow that to happen to us, Kin. Never. Whatever I had to do to prevent it.’
‘He isn’t going to ruin anything for us,’ he told her.
‘Perhaps I do have a bit of Qaloch belligerence in my blood,’ she conceded, grinning.
‘We’re going to be all right. Teg, Lirrin; all of us.’
‘You always speak with such passion when you refer to the children, my love.’
‘Do I?’
‘Yes, you do. And don’t be shy about it. I’m pleased that you take their welfare so seriously.’ She paused, trying to read his face, then decided to gently probe. ‘It’s because of your own childhood, isn’t it?’
He nodded.
‘You never talk about it. You know everything about me and my background–’
‘I know how terrible it was.’
‘I’m at peace with it. It’s gone now, like it was somebody else’s story.’
‘It’s not that I want to keep you out.’
‘I understand that. But remember that your past is in the past, like mine. And you don’t have to tell me about it if you don’t want to.’
‘But I do. We shouldn’t have secrets.’
She decided to try drawing him out a little. ‘You’ve said your upbringing was poor…’
‘Yes. Or rather, that’s what it became.’
‘How?’
For a moment, she thought he might not reply. But, falteringly at first, he did. ‘Back in Gath Tampoor, my father was a public servant, a bureaucrat. A lowly one, admittedly, but he fought all his life to better himself, educate himself, for us, his family. So our life wasn’t too bad, certainly compared with many others.’
‘But something happened to change it?’
He nodded and took another drink. ‘When I was seven or eight years old, my father got a promotion. It was quite a modest advance; he moved one small rung up a very high ladder. But he was so proud. Shortly after, he was approached by somebody who told him a story. The details aren’t important, but it was convincing enough to persuade my father to show this man certain documents in his charge. He did this because he thought he was helping someone who’d suffered an injustice, you understand.’
‘And it was a lie.’
‘Yes. It turned out that the petitioner was more sinner than sinned against. He was a CIS agent. They said my father took a bribe. He didn’t. The worst he was guilty of was being naive.’
Tanalvah had never heard him speak so freely of his background, and she saw the pain in his eyes. ‘What did they do to your father?’ she coaxed tenderly.
‘They made an example of him. He was put to work on the land at first. Slave labour, basically. Then one of their wars came along and he was inducted into the army. We never saw him again. That was when my pacifism was seeded.’
‘My poor Kinsel.’
‘It killed my mother. Well, she was half dead already from overwork, trying to keep us both. Not to mention the effect of the stigma.’
‘What became of you?’
‘I was made a ward of the state. Which is a fancy way of saying I ended up an orphan in a poorhouse. That was…grim. They kicked me out of there when I was fourteen. Onto the streets, literally. If it hadn’t been for my singing, and a few kind people who held out a charitable hand…Well, I don’t know where I’d be now.’
‘I can see why you came to support the Resistance.’
‘From that day to this I’ve had a horror of enslavement; any kind of imposition of one man over another, and that goes doubly for the state. Any state. And I’ve a terror of poverty. Not just for myself; for everyone. But I don’t see either of the empires improving things for most people. Quite the contrary. That’s why I put so much hope into the new state. For us, and most of all for the children.’
‘Thank you, Kinsel.’
‘For what, dear?’
‘For telling me. For opening your heart. I know it isn’t easy for you.’
‘Perhaps I have a trace of shame in my blood, the same way you have a little of the martial.’
‘There’s no need for shame. You’ve done nothing to deserve it.’
‘Knowing that and feeling it are two different things sometimes.’
‘You can talk to me about anything, you know.’
‘I know. It’s one of the many blessings you’ve brought me.’
Tanalvah stretched. ‘It’s getting late. Big day tomorrow.’
‘Ah, yes. The concert.’
‘Nervous?’
‘A bit. I always am. You’re bound to be a little worried that things won’t go well.’
‘Why shouldn’t they? The gods know you’ve rehearsed enough. You’ll be wonderful, and you�
�ll be doing something for the poor.’
‘I just wouldn’t want to let them down.’
‘You won’t. You’ll give it all you’ve got, Kinsel, the way you always do.’ She slipped her hand into his. ‘Now let’s get some rest, shall we?’
A short walk away, in the paladin compound, restful was the last word anyone would apply to Devlor Bastorran’s state of mind.
Ensconced in his private suite, injured leg resting on a padded stool, he was engaged in a tirade. The object of his wrath, a look of indifference on her face, leaned one arm sloppily on the mantel of the fine marble fireplace.
‘…not to mention an incompetent, idiotic, irresponsible, useless little…freak!’
‘Finished?’ Aphri Kordenza said.
‘Impertinent bitch.’
‘Yes. And your point is?’
‘Haven’t I made myself clear? You failed. I gave you a simple commission and you bungled it.’
‘Not that simple, considering who we were after. Anyway, there were unseen complications that let Caldason get the better of us.’
‘Oh, come on.’
‘The same happened to you. Or so you said. Took you by surprise was the expression you used.’
‘All right, all right. I concede the Qalochian’s a difficult mark for someone of your calibre.’
‘Well, you picked us.’
‘I believed your reputation. More fool me.’
‘You military types have a saying: the one about time spent in reconnaissance never being wasted. We learnt a lot about the way Caldason operates by going against him. The next time we meet–’
‘He’s going to be even more on his guard. No, I wouldn’t want you tackling him again unless the odds were massively in our favour.’
‘Wait a minute. This is a personal thing for us now. We can’t let him get away with besting us. It’s a matter of honour.’
‘I imagine that’s something you surrendered years ago. Forget your personal feelings.’
‘The way you have?’
‘My own sentiments don’t come into this.’
‘Really?’ She glanced pointedly at his bound limb. ‘How’s your leg?’
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