by Peter Newman
‘Please,’ she said, holding up a hand. ‘I would usually relish a discussion on the flaws of House Sapphire, but now really isn’t the time.’
He gave one nod, abrupt, and strode off into Sagan.
Varg and Glider watched him go, one pulling at his beard, the other whining softly.
‘What?’ snapped Pari.
‘Nothing.’ At her glare he added: ‘Glider doesn’t like it when people are sad.’
‘We’re all sad, Varg. Some of us are just better at hiding it. Now, if you want to have some quality time with a certain Honoured Mother, you’d better get moving.’
The way his face lit up was sickening. ‘Right. Good luck with your … with everything.’
She pulled her hood further forward and jumped off the wagon. ‘Go on, before I change my mind.’
Was it her imagination or did Glider move off with much greater speed than before? If she didn’t know better she’d say that the Dogkin was as excited as Varg. Nonsense. The beast is probably just picking up on Varg’s energy. It wasn’t that she didn’t want Varg to be happy, but she had a gut feeling that his infatuation was only going to lead to trouble further down the road.
Since her last visit, sixteen years ago, Sagan had grown considerably. Stretching out long and thin on either side of the Godroad in order to enjoy some measure of protection. The refugees from Sorn had been fully absorbed into the settlement, swelling the population towards five figures. In order to accommodate this, the forest had been pushed back, and new buildings jammed into the space. Given the risks inherent in cutting down trees, she wasn’t surprised to see how cramped everything had become. Some of Sorn’s aesthetic had crept in as well; much higher fences now surrounded the settlement, forming a half circle each side of the Godroad. There were gates leading out to the Wild, which were shut, funnelling all travellers to one of the natural gaps. It occurred to her that this would also make it easier for the Sapphire to control the human traffic …
Another gloomy thought to add to my collection.
A large crowd had gathered to greet Lord Vasin. He stood in the middle of them, a softly glowing giant of blue crystal. The mood was jubilant. A Deathless rarely came unless there was a hunt. This visit would add to Sagan’s legend, drawing Story-singers, traders and profit for some time to come.
It was easy for Pari to move past them, and as easy to spot the Tanzanite livery in Sagan as it was to spot the suns in the sky. She recognized the Dogkin that had pulled her carriage lazing in a messy clump at the front of one of the larger buildings. Its door was open and one of her servants was leaning out of it, her attention fixed on Lord Vasin. She looked worried.
Pari tried not to think why that might be and moved quickly to the back of the building. The windows on the lower floor were too small to climb through, but she could see larger ones on the upper floor, and during the day, they kept the shutters open. Prepared for just this situation, Pari fixed her climbing claws into place, prepared her silk rope, and quickly scaled the wall.
It still felt fresh and fun to do things physically, and she continued to revel in her new body’s agility. A part of her wished that she’d had the chance to spar with Lord Vasin, as she was confident she’d win this time. And in style.
The window was shut but not locked. Pari worked it open and peered inside. She was in luck. No servants were in the room, but she could see her brother curled up on one of the beds, his bare feet peeking from under the covers.
She gripped the windowsill tight, struck with savage relief. He’s alive! This was a pleasant surprise. Some part of her had been quietly preparing for the worst. And yet she didn’t fully relax. Her brother was here, breathing, and that was good. But not that good. It’s the middle of the day and he’s in bed.
She pushed the worry from her voice and moved softly over to his side. ‘Arkav?’
‘Pari?’
‘Yes, it’s me. I’m back.’
‘Who hurt you?’
‘Oh, that.’ She silently cursed herself for not hiding the bruising. ‘I just, overreached myself that’s all.’
The next thing she knew he was in her arms, hugging her tightly. ‘You lied to me.’ She heard reproach, and the threat of anger, like storm clouds on the horizon.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, pushing him back gently so she could see his face, but keeping hold of his upper arms to stay in physical contact. ‘I honestly thought I’d be here sooner. Things were more complicated than I anticipated. It was a poor estimate rather than a lie.’
‘No. Not that. Not the time. I don’t care about time.’
‘What then?’
‘Other things.’
‘You’ll need to be more specific, my dear.’
‘I … I don’t know.’ The hardness left his eyes and he looked away. ‘But I feel it. There’s more going on and you’re keeping it from me.’
She sighed. ‘I thought you had enough to worry about without my problems.’
‘I should be helping you, not the other way around. I’m the eldest.’
‘Not by much.’
‘And I’ve lived more years than you.’
This was especially true after the extended time between lives she’d just been forced to endure. ‘It’s not about how many years you live, but how you live them. Besides, we don’t need to fight over this. We can agree to help each other.’
‘So you’ll tell me what you’re hiding?’
‘If you want me to. But first I want to know if my absence has been noted.’
‘They suspect something’s off, but I set the servants tasks so they wouldn’t realize you weren’t here. They think you’re in the room next door.’
Pari thought about what she’d seen of Sagan. ‘We have two rooms?’
‘We have the whole of this floor.’
She let go of her brother and walked round the room, peering closely at the walls and floor, noting the little marks where the wood was darker, unbleached by the sunslight. ‘There’s normally another two beds in here.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Arkav. ‘They’ve cleared them out to make room for my things.’
‘Along with the people who live here.’
‘That’s right.’
For some reason, she found herself thinking of Lord Vasin. He wouldn’t be happy about this. Am I happy about this? It was all too easy to imagine the usual occupants stuffed into another room, already full, like trying to get both feet into the same boot.
While she knew the importance of keeping Nidra and their plans secret, it pained her to know that someone had been ejected from their home to give her a room she hadn’t even used.
‘What a mess. Let’s be on our way so these people can have their lives back.’
She was just about to go next door when she noticed Arkav scratching at his chest. The silk was already pulled loose there, suggesting it wasn’t the first time he’d worried it. ‘Are you alright?’
‘I’m fine.’
‘Now you’re lying.’
At his offended look, she crouched in front of him and gently pulled the silk away. The skin underneath was raised and raw, old and new scabs crisscrossing each other. ‘Arkav, this is not fine.’
He looked down, and seemed to be as surprised as she was. ‘I …’
‘You have to stop.’ She took his hands in her own and made sure he was looking at her. ‘This is important. You could have drawn blood.’
‘I wouldn’t go that far.’
‘By the look of this, you have before.’
He sagged, nodded. ‘I’m sorry. I was just trying to …’ He trailed off.
‘Trying to what?’
‘Nothing.’
‘No, tell me.’
‘Only if you promise not to judge.’
‘I won’t. You know I won’t.’
He managed a partial smile at that. ‘I know. I was trying to find the hole.’
A shiver ran down her spine. ‘Go on.’
‘There’s a hole, in here.’ He to
uched his chest. ‘I can’t think of another word to describe it. It moves sometimes and I … I need to find it. I can’t explain how I know that, but I do.’
Words hovered on the tip of Pari’s tongue but she couldn’t quite find them. I feel like I’ve been here before. Like I know what he’s talking about. ‘When you cut your arm, the first time. Was that to find the hole?’
‘Yes.’
‘And what happens if you find it?’
‘I’d …’ he looked up at her, stricken. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Perhaps you should figure that out first before you do any more digging.’
‘You’re right. It’s so much easier when you’re here Pari. My thoughts jump less, and they’re quieter.’
She smiled at him. ‘I don’t have any more side trips planned. From now on I’ll be at your side for as long as you need me.’
‘Good.’
‘What was it like when you were with our High Lord?’
‘Awful.’ Then he started talking so fast it was hard for Pari to keep up. ‘She likes me but she’s so loud I can’t find myself and I get this pressure in my head to do something to be someone and I don’t know who-what that is and it makes me scared and I try so hard not to embarrass her and in the end I don’t do anything and I don’t say anything and I’m not anyone.’ He took a breath. ‘And I get so tired, Pari.’
‘It’s alright. I’m here now. We’ll find a way through this.’ I feel like I’m missing a piece of the puzzle. Yes! That’s almost it. She allowed her thoughts to unfurl naturally, letting intuition guide them. Arkav is looking for a hole. He cuts himself. The hole is inside him. The hole is inside him because … something is missing! A part of him is missing. And with a sudden jerk she knew what it was: a part of his soul.
She had seen it when she was between lives. His face in the void calling my name. I remember! A piece of Arkav’s very essence, trapped in that other place, unable to return to Arkav’s body with the rest of him.
She allowed herself a moment of despair – if her brother’s soul was torn, there was little hope for him – and then she rallied. I saw it. It remains out there, beyond this world, intact. That means I can find it. Doubts about this being true were brushed aside, questions about how she would do this were left to address later. I will seek it out, and I will bring it back, and I will find a way to make my brother whole again.
‘I didn’t always look this way,’ began Rochant. ‘In my first lifecycle, I was road-born, in a place called Veren and I was as pale as Tal.’
‘What has this got to do with the Corpseman?’ asked Sa-at.
‘You’ll see. Now, where was I?’
‘You were in Veren.’
‘Ah yes. I was not like the other children. You see, in my first life, I was smaller than the others, weaker.’
Like me, thought Sa-at.
‘This meant I was slower to complete my tasks. And when I had ideas of how to tackle a job differently, I was told to stop being lazy and get on with it. I soon learned to keep my thoughts to myself.
‘At that time, Veren was overseen by a Deathless called Lord Yadavendra Sapphire, and we were generous in our gifts to him. Because of this, he often sent his hunters to visit. I knew from the first time I saw them that I wanted to be one. You can’t imagine the excitement every time they came. They were so big on their Sky-legs, bigger than the adults of our village in every way. There was a directness in their manner, a crispness, a … purpose. Yes, it was their purposefulness that I loved most, even more than seeing them fly.
‘I wasn’t the only child of Veren who wanted to be lifted to the sky. It was well known that a Deathless could elevate someone if they were deemed worthy. However, none of us could name a single road-born who had become a hunter in our lifetimes. We asked our parents but they couldn’t either. So we asked our grandparents, and when they couldn’t, most gave up on the dream.’
‘But you didn’t.’
‘No.’
‘Why?’
‘That’s a good question. In part because I wasn’t as happy as the others, and that motivated me to want to change things.’
‘What’s “motivated”?’
‘Encouraged, inspired … Ah, I have it! When you’re comfortable and warm after a sleep, it’s hard to get up, yes?’
‘Yes, but then you get hungry or you need to pee and you have to.’
‘That isn’t quite where I was going but it will do. The other children of Veren were comfortable and warm, but it was like I needed to pee.’
‘All the time?’
‘Yes, all the time.’ Sa-at sniggered. ‘But even that wasn’t enough on its own. Without the Corpseman things would have been very different.’
‘When is it coming into the story?’
‘Soon. One night, the whole settlement was kept awake by strange noises coming from the forest. There was buzzing and shrieking and cracking, and it sounded like the trees themselves were fighting. It got so bad that in the end our elders roused the whole of Veren and led us to the Godroad. We stayed there till dawn and returned to find our homes untouched, and the forest looking much like it had the day before. Most were happy to accept this apparent good fortune and return to their beds, but I wasn’t.
‘I crept out of Veren and into the trees. It was much quieter than I’d ever known it before. The strangeness of it scared me.’
Sa-at nodded. The Wild was only quiet for blood and bad things.
‘There was one tree that had a knot like a frowning eye. We called it the Stern Tree. I noticed that the Stern Tree had a new scar on its trunk, four feet long and jagged. It wasn’t autumn but there were leaves everywhere, enough that I could kick flurries of them in the air when I walked. Several trees had fallen in the night, leaving patches in the canopy above. After a while, I began to smell death.’
‘Did you run away?’
‘No, I went deeper. Where the forest had been silent I started to hear sounds of activity. While I was trying to listen, my foot came down on a pile of leaves that crunched like an eggshell. When I cleared the leaves away, I saw the carapace of a giant Flykin. I cleared more leaves and found another, then another, all broken up. Black legs with single-toed feet that jutted into the air. Bodies with the heads bitten off, shreds of glittering wings impaled on branches. Too many to count. And not just Flykin corpses. There were Dogkin too, and other creatures I didn’t recognize.
‘All these bodies had brought scavengers. An army of them, big and small: Roachkin, Ratkin, Birdkin. Hundreds of them, crawling over the corpses and each other. As I watched, severed limbs began to disintegrate, eyes were sucked out of sockets, tongues nibbled out of slack mouths.’
‘Was that when you ran away?’
‘No. Maybe I should have, but I ventured further. Carefully at first, then more confidently. I realized the scavengers were too busy with dead meat to worry about the living. As I walked, I could see how the fighting had moved through the forest, getting more intense as it went.
‘I’d never before seen Flykin like these corpses. Parts of their carapace were covered in pale skin. Human skin, like Tal’s. At first I thought they were wearing the patches like trophies but as I probed the bodies with my hands—’ he paused to look at Sa-at, who had gasped. ‘What is it?’
‘Don’t you know that you should never touch dead Flykin?’
‘Oh yes, I knew. After the weather, the favourite topic of conversation in Veren was “things you should not do”. In my defence, at first I did just look, then I tried prodding the corpses with the toe of my boot, but that didn’t tell me enough. I needed to know what had happened, to understand what these things were. Maybe that’s why the Wild is so good at tricking people, we aren’t very good at following instructions.’ His expression didn’t change much but Sa-at felt he was hiding a smile. He is so strange. He sees the same things as me, hears the same things, but they are different to him.
‘Could I trouble you for some more water?’
Sa-at
provided some and helped him to drink. ‘You said you touched the dead Flykin with your hands.’
‘Yes. The patches of skin were fused with the carapace, as much a part of them as their wings.
‘I knew little of hunts back then, but I knew that a handful of dead demons was the normal result. Half a dozen was considered unusual, more than that and it would be a story for the ages. Here there were countless bodies. Hundreds, thousands. It was conflict on a scale I’d never imagined.
‘There was a circular mound of dead Flykin where the fighting had been at its worst, as tall as you are. I had to climb the corpses to see what was inside it. The smell was …’ Rochant shook his head. ‘I can still taste it on my tongue.’
‘And,’ said Sa-at, unable to contain his excitement any longer, ‘what was inside?’
‘More Flykin. Three of them, maybe four. They’d been so badly savaged it was hard to tell. The sight of it, the stench … it was too much and I was just turning to go when I saw it.’
Sa-at was leaning forward now. ‘Saw what?’
‘The Flykin had been protecting their young. I hadn’t noticed because they were beneath the bigger ones, but there were tiny bodies too, mashed into the ground. One of the young was moving. It wasn’t making any noise, but I could hear it. Not in my ears like you’re hearing me now, but in my head. And not words either, just pain. I could hear its pain.’
‘Was it dying?’
‘Yes. The front of its head was missing. Its antennae were high enough to survive, but its eyes were gone and the meat of its brain was exposed. The rest wasn’t much better, its legs were broken and its carapace cracked all over, like an egg that had been rolled too hard on a stone.
‘But worst of all was its grief. The closer I got the more I could feel this … loneliness.’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t have the words for it.’
‘What did you do with it?’
‘I picked it up and we …’ his eyes took on a faraway look ‘… connected. Despite its grievous injuries. It was the last of its kind, an exile, and I was a misfit in Veren, too clever for my own good. We found something in each other that our own people couldn’t give us. True friendship.’