‘Enough gibberish, old man,’ Fridja snapped. ‘If you do not wish to serve a dead woman, you had better get us out of here.’
‘True enough,’ Soonkar said mildly.
‘I have been thinking about the halfman’s words,’ Bleyd said.
They were in another cellar, but this one clearly served as a cold cellar for the house above, given the amount of food and bottles of cirul laid down. They had used sacking to make seats and Fridja had raided the sacks and barrels to assemble a rough cold meal by the light of a lantern procured from somewhere by Soonkar. The halfman had then gone out again, to find out if Hella and the other myrmidons had got away safely. Fridja had given him the address of the secondary refuge where those who had escaped would be assembled. Any of the myrmidons taken would, like Duran, be unable to answer more than one question before falling unconscious, so the chance of the second refuge being compromised was slim. The biggest worry was Hella, who, while she could not give away the location of a refuge she did not know existed, could nonetheless tell everything that she had seen and heard since coming to Iridom, which included the fact that Ember and Bleyd were the missing fugitives from Ramidan, and that they had been helped to escape by Revel.
Soonkar had also been told about Duran’s presence on Iridom, and the plan that had gone awry, and he had seemed genuinely dismayed to hear that she had vanished, but his strongest reaction had been to the mention of the name of the new Iridomi minister, whom he claimed to have known in the past. It was soon after this that he had announced his intention to go and see if he could learn anything about Duran’s whereabouts.
‘The halfman’s words?’ Fridja grunted now, frowning at Bleyd.
‘About the Stormsong,’ Bleyd went on. ‘Remember how he said that Revel had refused to let him travel on with the ship from Iridom because it was going to be here for some time? That was before Mysel called to Iridom to find out about the failure of the Vespians to notify them about the change of route of the ship. Why would she tell him there would be a delay when she did not know it herself?’
‘I neither know nor care why she said it,’ Fridja said tightly. ‘Fear for Duran gnaws at me like a ratlet in my entrails.’
‘Fear not for your chieftain, Myrmidon,’ Soonkar’s voice came out of the dark, making them all jump. He came close enough to be illuminated by the fluttering candlelight and Ember thought that she had misjudged his height for, at that moment in that light, he seemed very tall.
‘You have found out where they have her?’ Fridja was on her feet already.
‘I have. First I went to the safe house as you bade me. The myrmidons there wanted to string me up until I showed them your token and spoke the words you bade me. They told me then that two of Duran’s myrmidons, and the Acanthan girl, Hella, were taken in the raid earlier today, or yesterday I suppose it is by now. They said the Acanthan girl took a savage blow to the head, but they did not think she was dead.’
‘Why did you say we should not fear for Duran?’ Bleyd demanded.
‘Because you were right about Famaki keeping them to himself. I was on my way back from the safe house when I remembered that Famaki bought his first house for his lover down by the shore in the fifth district. The house is next to a huge olfactory that used to make toruga salve before it was found to be poisonous …’
‘A rough area for the lover of a man who owns houses in the finest districts,’ Fridja said tersely. ‘Why would you guess that he had not got rid of it and that old lover as well? Men are not known for their fidelity to their bonded mates, let alone to lovers.’
‘Famaki is not the sort of man to let go of what he has his hand on. That was part of his nature and clearly it has stood him in good stead. As to his lover, she was not the sort to be cast off as he elevated himself, though she was also not the sort of woman he could bring to the palace. Nor would she desire it. The place and the woman belong to a previous life, but I knew they would still be there unless Famaki had changed his nature as well as his circumstances. I also guessed that he would hardly be likely to advertise his ownership of such a place to his new comrades, therefore it would be the perfect place to stash Duran if he had not taken her to the palace. When I found twenty legionnaires prowling watchfully about the place, I knew I had guessed right.’
‘What about them?’ Bleyd objected.
‘From what I heard of their talk, they are Famaki’s men and he pays them very well for their loyalty.’
‘How do you know he has Duran there?’ Fridja asked. ‘Maybe it is some other prisoner.’
‘Famaki was just leaving in a great hurry when I arrived, so I hung around in the shadows and heard him warn the men to guard the prisoners well until his return, especially the leader of the manwomen for, although she slept, she might wake at any moment.’
‘Well done,’ she told Soonkar grimly. ‘I owe you a debt for this.’
‘No,’ Soonkar said. ‘I was repaying an old debt.’
Fridja looked puzzled but she shook away any questions she might have had. ‘I must act at once if we are to rescue Duran and the others. I will go to the refuge and collect what support I still have.’ She turned to Bleyd. ‘Will you come? I will need as many able bodies as I can get to deal with twenty legionnaires.’
Bleyd nodded.
He was looking better, despite his exertions, and Ember could only hope, for his sake, that the drugs he was taking would do no permanent damage. But in the end, what he did was none of her business. Realising that he was looking at her, she opened her mouth to tell him he need not concern himself about her welfare, when Soonkar spoke.
‘Go. I will guard the visionweaver,’ he said simply. He turned his eyes to the myrmidon. ‘You can trust me.’
The myrmidon spy mistress held his eyes for a long moment, then she nodded as if to some inner voice. ‘I believe it, Halfman. Guard the visionweaver then and, if you can, get her on a ship to Myrmidor.’ She frowned and looked at Bleyd, perhaps remembering his precarious situation. ‘Maybe you should go with them.’
‘I will stay,’ Bleyd said decisively, and it seemed to Ember that some weight slipped from his shoulders. ‘I am tired of being rescued and passed around like a prize. Besides all else, it is partly my fault that Hella is caught up in this, since I suggested we stay with her.’
Fridja stepped toward Ember and embraced her rather formally. ‘I thank you for the songs you sang today. They will always be a light in the darkness for me.’ She glanced at the dwarf, nodded and then she was gone into the shadows. Bleyd looked at Ember and she stiffened, thinking that he, too, meant to embrace her. But he merely bowed and went after the myrmidon spy mistress.
‘Luck to you both,’ Soonkar murmured after them.
‘What are we going to do?’ Ember asked, after a moment.
‘We are going to see a girl about a ship,’ Soonkar said, and she saw the white flash of his teeth beneath the foxy mask he had resumed. ‘But I think we will wait until closer to Kalinda-rise when there are enough folk about that a man and a woman strolling towards the piers do not stand out.’
‘Why did you leave Iridom?’ Ember asked, when they were both seated again, to stave off any questions he might be brewing.
Perhaps the halfman understood, for he answered equably, ‘As a young man I tasted all of the sensual delights offered by this sept. I ruled a clever gang of ruffians and I used the urchins much as Fridja does now. But when I grew older, I realised that I had spent my youth and vigour swallowing illusions and amassing power in an attempt to compensate for the grotesque form in which I have been bound.’ He sighed. ‘Somehow all the anger and bitterness I had felt at living my life as a halfman faded when I acknowledged it. That was when I met the seerat. He was visiting Iridom. He had been invited by a woman to tell fortunes at a grand celebration. We became friends.’ He smiled. ‘The story of our friendship deserves a balladeer to tell it and so I will not. Suffice it to say that I chose to accompany him back to Vespi and have served him since.?
??
Ember thought of the seerat and Faylian hurrying down to the shore only to find that the ship had gone. Soonkar frowned when she told him what she had seen. ‘The seerat knows Faylian, but I would not say they were particular friends or confidants. Perhaps she wove of the problems you would encounter here and wanted to send you a warning through the seerat. He would have told her that I had left his service too, and when he heard what lay ahead, maybe he thought to warn me as well. But I can not imagine why they would come together to the ship.’
‘What did you say to the seerat when you left?’ Ember asked.
‘I told him that the time had come for me to seek the meaning of my existence. It was enough. You see he told me twenty seasons past that I would leave him when that time came.’
‘It sounds as if you were close.’
‘I loved him,’ the halfman said simply. ‘He is one of the rare men who have soulweaving tendencies, not that anyone but the soulweavers knows it. He uses the seerat guise to work for Darkfall.’
‘You worked with him?’
‘The skills I had learned in the steamy underworld of Iridom were useful to him.’
Something in the halfman’s words bothered Ember but she could not think what. It was becoming harder to concentrate. The pain in her spine had increased but she was so exhausted that she was in danger of falling asleep despite all the worry and danger.
‘Sleep awhile,’ Soonkar said gently. ‘I will wake you when it is time to go.’
Ember dreamed of her mother, singing as she swept the porch, her eyes fierce with regret. She dreamed of her father holding Glynn on his knee, and both of them laughing crazily at something no one else could understand; her mother’s disapproving smile as she glanced in and the dimming of Glynn’s brightness.
She dreamed of the day that the police had come to tell her about their parents dying in the accident, and her own feeling of remoteness. She had been alone and finally the insistence of the knocking had brought her to the door. It had been an older policeman. ‘Is there anyone else home?’ he had asked, because she had not wept or looked shocked or horrified, but had only thanked him for the news as if he had sold her a raffle ticket. No doubt he had thought that she was in shock.
She floated up from the dream enough to wonder at her lack of reaction. Did I really feel nothing? she wondered.
I felt nothing, dark Ember boasted, rising up from the depths. You would never have the wit or courage for such a response.
Is that what courage is? Ember wondered. Indifference?
She sank into another dream of the hospital where she had waited to see if they could find anything to arrest the tumour. There had been a male nurse; ugly but with soft eyes and big gentle hands. The day before she had left the hospital the nurse had looked at her with a kind of horror and she had been too indifferent to wonder why. But now she realised that what she had taken for horror had been revulsion; not of her illness, but of dark Ember.
Ember shuddered into a dream of the red-haired Sean. He was walking along an industrial-looking street in their world, hands thrust deep in his pockets. His shoulders were hunched and she, watching him, wondered if he was trying to make up his mind whether or not to join the gang of the dark-haired boy. What had his name been? The boy stopped to look on the wall at a poster advertising something called the Night of the Comet. She remembered with faint astonishment that Glynn had been looking for the comet the night they disappeared, wondering whether it would be easier to see in Australia. There had been endless predictions about what the comet might bring about. Superstitious nonsense; though, given what had happened to her, she was less inclined to think that everything known was all there was to know. There was still mystery, even if the people of her world were blind to it.
She frowned, thinking how often in the stories of her world blindness had been used to describe people who chose not to see; who were wilfully ignorant. Even before I was blinded by the tumour, I was blind, Ember thought. There were so many things she had chosen not to see.
Fool! dark Ember hooted. When you are entirely blind you will cease to exist and there will be only me.
Ember twisted away and found herself dreaming of the one occasion when her father had managed to entice her on one of his camping trips with Glynn. It had been not long before the tumour began to manifest. She had disliked the roughness of the experience, and had shivered in the cold sitting by the camp fire, while being uncomfortably warmed from the front. She had absorbed her mother’s unvoiced contempt of the trips, she thought, and had believed herself too cultured and civilised to enjoy them. This realisation shamed her. Sitting by that fire with her twin sister and father, she had mentally withdrawn, instead of cherishing them and the moment, believing her music to be far too important to waste time on such mindless things as the pungent scent of the wet bush and damper bread on a stick. What a fool she had been, she thought now with the same weariness that seemed to come over her whenever she thought of her life before Keltor. How had she failed to appreciate the soft peace of that night; the cracking of the fire, the quietness that lay so warmly between Glynn and their father? Ember felt a pang of grief at what she might have shared with them.
I was blinded by my own choice, long before the tumour blinded me … she thought sadly.
She drifted deeper and found herself dreaming of the old man from the Greek taverna who had played his guitar and sung the night she had been swept to Keltor. He was walking along a cliff path and beyond him lay the sea, shimmering under a full pale moon. Behind him, higher on the hill, whitewashed stone buildings glowed on the barren, rocky slope. The old man walked in the same preoccupied way as the red-haired boy, and Ember had the odd thought that he, too, was making a decision, or contemplating a decision made.
Why am I dreaming of these people? she wondered, but all at once she was dreaming again of Shenavyre, walking in a forest clearing and singing. But this time, she was the one walking about and singing. Realising it, she stopped with a thrill of terror, remembering what always came next in the dream: danger swooping from above. Instinctively, she looked up.
To see a huge looming shadow swooping down on her.
‘Wake, Visionweaver,’ Soonkar called urgently. ‘You are having a nightmare.’
‘I was … It was me all the time …’ Ember panted, blinking up at the impossibly handsome face of the halfman shifting and fluid in the candlelight. Her confusion and terror ebbed. ‘Yes. A nightmare,’ she murmured, and relaxed. She wondered if she had screamed.
‘We should go anyway,’ the halfman said and he helped her to pull on her shoes and then he gently straightened her mask and veil before pulling on his own fox mask. At last, he held out his hand. Ember laid her own in it without hesitation, wondering why she was able to accept the halfman’s attentions without the stiffness with which she had greeted Bleyd’s efforts. Perhaps it was because the halfman did not worship her beauty as Bleyd had done, but saw her as a means to an end.
She shivered as they slipped from the cellar door into the pre-dawn, unable to decide what she really felt about Soonkar’s idea that she would somehow bring him to enlightenment. She had told him that she could offer nothing, but he had shrugged, saying that he wanted nothing but to serve her. His calmness made her feel safe, she realised. Outside, it was unexpectedly cool and the murky mist-steam seemed to have thickened into a genuine fog. Soonkar lit a lantern, took her arm and directed their steps without hesitation, despite the insubstantiality of the world about them. The pain running through Ember’s body, and the feeling of disorientation that it produced, made her feel as if the world had begun to dissolve, and she wondered if, in fact, she might not still be dreaming in the cellar.
Before long, they were in a more commercial street, and now there were other people out, appearing and disappearing through the veils of fog, wearing all manner of masks. The majority of them were roughly made, and Ember supposed that they were servitors or poorer people out about their business, rather th
an nobles who would probably lounge in their beds until noon. The feeling that she was still dreaming persisted, and if the dwarf had not been propelling her along, she might simply have stopped and gazed about. She had a vague memory of Alene talking of a time in which soulweavers were so valued that if they fell into a trance in the street, they would be cloaked from the rain, and their lips moistened reverently by passing people.
It grew steadily brighter, though the fog remained thick and felt coldly damp.
‘The mood of the weather has changed,’ Soonkar murmured at one point, looking up. These were the first words he had spoken since they had crawled out of the cellar, and they wakened Ember from the trance-like state into which she had fallen. She forced herself to ignore the pain and look about, telling herself that in a few hours she might well be on a ship bound for Myrmidor. Hopefully the Stormsong, because Revel would not care about the state of her attire. Admittedly she wore a long cape that Soonkar had produced, to disguise the bedraggled state of her gown. He had brought it back with him after his fact-finding expedition. But the veil had muddy spots and streaks from where she had fallen in the sewer pipe and, although she had done her best to wash in the cellar, she knew her dress must reek of the sewer waters into which she had fallen. If they must board another ship, she would have to find somewhere to wash and tidy herself. She still had the a’luwtha bag, and therefore the pouches of coin that Sharra’s mother had given her, so there would be no difficulty in paying for a new dress and a passage for them both to Myrmidor. It was the time this would waste that dismayed her. So far, she had managed to contain the pain, but it would not be long before she would be unable to hide it.
‘What was your arrangement with Revel, by the way?’ Soonkar asked suddenly, breaking into her thoughts.
‘Alene soulweaver friendbinded her to take Bleyd and me to Myrmidor on the Stormsong. Or to put us on a ship at Vespi, if she could not do it herself. Didn’t she tell the seerat?’
‘She told him that she was carrying you two because her father would wish it.’ He glanced at her.