‘The Makers will know if the Monster does not tell their words properly,’ Bily said. ‘And they hate disobedience.’
The wise one nodded. ‘That is the difficulty. And yet it must be possible for the Broken Prince to change things, because the dreams say that he brings with him the means for change.’
‘It may be that when he is Prime Listener, he will discover how change can be wrought,’ Ishla said.
‘But before all else, we must change his metal,’ said the wise one, sounding suddenly weary. ‘If it is possible.’
Bily waited on the steps for a long time, waiting to be summoned into the Temple, but finally Ishla suggested he go back to Seshla’s hut.
‘There is no telling how long it will take the wise ones to complete their examination of the Changebringer,’ she said.
The old wise one in the pool, who had seemed to have fallen into a deep sleep, opened her eyes. ‘We must speak with the Broken Prince before his examination is complete, and that cannot be done until he wakes,’ she said in her cracked voice. ‘I will tell the others what I have learned from you.’
Bily realised belatedly that Seshla had brought him here at the request of this wise one, and he was now being dismissed. He hesitated, wanting very badly to see the Monster, but Seshla lay a hand on his shoulder and said that nothing would be done without the Monster’s agreement. Even so, it was not until Ishla promised to fetch him the moment the Monster woke, that Bily finally allowed Seshla to usher him away.
She led him in a different direction from the Temple pool, saying they had better go and get some food from the cooking huts.
‘I ate all of those pancakes,’ Bily protested, but the she Monk said the food was to take back to her hut.
‘All meals are prepared and usually eaten communally,’ the she Monk explained, pointing to tables with bench seats that were set around the hot pools. They were all empty and mist was swirling around them. Then she pointed to a cluster of three domed huts just beyond the tables. ‘Those are the cooking huts. When an ice blizzard is brewing, as now, everyone takes enough food back to their huts to eat over several days.’
‘Several days!’ Bily murmured, thinking of Zluty and the diggers.
‘Do not be afraid,’ Seshla said, mistaking his anxiety for fear. ‘The Hidden Place is mostly protected from mainland weather by the ice peaks, but it is better to be ready for the worst.’
They waited for the Monks cooking to prepare what the she Monk had requested, and by the time they carried off the baskets of food they had been given, it had grown much colder. Gusts of wind swept along the paths and under the bridges, making the mist churn and roil.
Bily was glad to get inside Seshla’s hut, and had just begun to get warm when he heard someone coming along the tunnel entrance. Thinking it might be Ishla or a messenger from the wise ones to tell him that the Monster had awoken, his heart began to hammer with excitement. But moments later, a strange young she Monk crawled into the hut and stood up.
Bily gazed in amazement at her, for she had very long fur on the top of her head, which she had pulled up into a great unruly tree. Some of it was braided, and upon these pieces she had hung a multitude of ornaments. Her pelt had been trimmed to the skin in patterns that coiled around her face and her arms and around eyes that were a deep violet brown that reminded him of the Monster’s tail tip and paws touched by firelight. Indeed there were several bits of hair that seemed to have been painted red!
Bily was so busy staring at her that it took him a moment to take in that she was also staring avidly at him.
‘Ishla asked me to come and tell the mysterious Softling everyone is gossiping about that she has decided to go and sleep in the Temple to watch over the Changebringer. She said to tell you that she has not forgotten her promise,’ the she Monk said. ‘I do not know what she meant, but perhaps you do.’
Bily was still too dazzled by the she Monk to answer sensibly, because he had never imagined a person might decorate themselves as if they were a wall hanging or a clay pot.
‘Now look what you have done! You have stolen his voice away,’ Seshla scolded the newcomer. The two she Monks glared at one another, then they burst out laughing and hooted and capered uproariously.
‘Bily, this is my friend, Finnla,’ Seshla said, when they had calmed down. She clapped the other Monk on her shoulder and grimaced. ‘You are covered in snow, you great silly! Look, it is melting on my rug!’
‘It is falling outside,’ Finnla said absently, gazing raptly at Bily, but she let Seshla take her cloak from her. Bily was enchanted to see the lining was woven in gold and yellow strands that reminded him of Zluty’s pelt. Shyly and with a pang of longing for Zluty, Bily stroked its softness while the Monks exclaimed at how rare it was to have a Long Night begin with an ice blizzard, and now here was a second brewing and snow falling on the Hidden Place.
Seshla invited the she Monk to have a bite to eat and Finnla sat down promptly. To Bily’s delight, another of the very small Monks – even smaller than Zest – crept out of the bag Finnla had set to one side and crawled into her lap. Seeing his interest, she picked the tiny creature up and held it between them. It looked as her intently as she made a little chittering sound.
‘Her name is Wisp,’ she told Bily, and bid him hold out his hand.
Bily obeyed and made himself still, while he offered a crooning greeting with his mind, just as he had once done to the birds or diggers when he had lived in the cottage. The tiny creature tilted its head and then leapt into his hand. Finnla looked astonished, but Bily sat very still, enchanted, as she ran up his arm to his shoulder, then scrambled onto the top of his head to sit between his ears.
Feeling the tufts of fluff on his ears being groomed by tiny claws, Bily laughed softly. The sound made the little Monk freeze. She looked down at him warily as if astounded to find there was a person connected to the ears. He did nothing save croon at her with his mind again, whereupon she scampered down to his lap. Finding his tail curled neatly beside him, she gave a chirp of unmistakable delight and began stroking the long thick fluff wonderingly. Suddenly she burrowed into it and arranged it into a sort of nest, which she curled into before coiling her own tail daintily around her.
Bily looked up to find both she Monks beaming at him.
‘My little cousin likes you,’ Finnla said. ‘You are very fluffy.’
Finnla remained with them for several hours, insisting on braiding a bit of Bily’s fur and threading in beads. She had a merry laugh, and despite Bily’s worries about the Monster and his fears for Zluty and the diggers, he found himself laughing often, especially at her merciless mimicking of the ponderous wise ones in their endless bath. Seshla roared with laughter when she put on one of Ishla’s famous tantrums that she said everyone knew were merely drama without any real anger.
Finnla also asked a great many questions about the cottage on the plain and Bily’s life there with Zluty. Seshla wanted to know more about the Northern Forest after he mentioned it, but Finnla was interested in his dye-making experiments and pottery ideas. It was lovely to talk about those things, and he regretted that he did not have the paintbox given to him by the diggers to show her. It was not until she was putting her cloak back on in readiness to leave that she mentioned that she made things.
‘Things!’ Seshla mocked.
‘Hush,’ Finnla told her, and invited Bily to visit her hut. Then she left, having scooped up the sleeping Wisp and tucked the little creature inside her cloak.
Seshla and Bily cleared away the eating things and then slept for a time, until Vesh came to wake them, saying the Great One was ready to go seeking Bily’s brother and his digger friends and wanted her rider.
‘You must hurry, the Great One says, because although the blizzard has ended, she smells that another is brewing, and looks nasty.’
They emerged from the hut and Bily was just pleading to go and help look for Zluty and the diggers when Ishla arrived.
Seshla shook h
er head regretfully. ‘We must go alone else there will not be room for your brother and the two diggers on the back of the Great One. But also, if another ice blizzard is brewing we will have to move fast. Even so, we may need to take shelter for days on end if it catches us before we can return.’
Bily bit his lip.
‘Come now,’ Ishla said heartily. ‘We two healers have weighty matters to discuss! I would like to know more of your potions and you have not yet seen our water gardens. I think they will be of interest to a healer, for there is a section devoted to healing herbs. Also, some of the wise are eager to discuss with you your theory that strong emotions unsettle Makers metal. And what of the Broken Prince? One of the other healers is watching over him now, but we think it will not be long before he wakes and wishes to speak with you.’
Bily sighed and turned back to Seshla to ask, ‘Can I at least come with you to visit the Nightbeast?’
‘Of course,’ Seshla said. ‘But you will need a thick cloak. It is desperately cold at the Long Pool.’
Once Bily was rugged up to her satisfaction, and she had got her own cloak and Riders’ bag, Seshla asked the healer if she would like to go with them.
Ishla shook her head, shuddering. ‘It is too far and too cold for my old bones. Come to me when you return,’ she told Bily, and departed.
‘Let’s go,’ Seshla said. Then she added softly, ‘Ishla’s bones are only old when she does not want to do something. The rest of the time she is outraged if anyone suggests she is not as fit as when she was a rider.’
‘Ishla was a rider of the Nightbeast before she was a healer?’ Bily asked as they made their winding way through the settlement.
‘Not just a rider,’ Seshla said. ‘She was a First Rider, even as I am. The truth is that she avoids the Great One because it hurts her that they are no longer together. I can imagine how it must feel, not to be able to ride and roam beyond these white walls that are our cage and our protection,’ she added a little bleakly.
‘The Great One must be very old,’ Bily murmured.
Bily and Seshla made their way out of the mist-shrouded Monk settlement along a road that ran North across a coldwhite plain. The mist thinned outside the settlement. Seshla said this was because there were only a few hot pools on the plain. Beyond the plain, Bily could now see the wall of ice peaks and was startled to realise how big the island was. It was also much colder and he was glad Seshla had insisted they wear thick cloaks.
The one he was wearing had been borrowed from Vesh, and Bily had promised the youngling he would return it.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ the he Monk had said, and for the first time the brightness in his face had dimmed. ‘When I go to serve the Makers, I will not remember the cloak.’
That was the moment Bily wished the Monster could stop the Makers. They had killed Redwing’s kind and emptied the minds of countless poor little diggers, and now Vesh and all the other young he Monks were to be turned into the great aggressive Monks that had taken Zluty captive in Stonehouse. The worst of it was that the he Monks would not even have the memories of their youngling days to comfort them as they endured the cold hard life that awaited them. Nor could they refuse to go even if they wanted to, because any rebellion would bring the wrath of the Makers down upon their people.
‘How are the young he Monks taken from here to Stonehouse, and how are they made to forget their home and families?’ asked Bily.
‘There is a machine in the Temple,’ Seshla said. ‘It tells us which are to be taken. They are always the brightest and cleverest and strongest. Many are those passed over earlier, so that they can stay and sire younglings. When they are chosen, their memories are drained from them by the Makers machine and they are put into metal eggs and taken to the altar on the edge of the mainland. The he Monks and Listeners come after the Long Night to collect them.’
Bily felt sick. ‘You would allow that to happen to Vesh?’
‘Allow!’ Seshla’s snaky tail lashed. ‘I would fight to keep him and all of those taken, but I can no more do that than Vesh can refuse to go, because the Makers would destroy the Hidden Place if they thought we were not compliant.’
Bily felt ashamed. ‘I did not mean to judge.’
The she Monk sighed.
‘I judge myself. Yet it may be that Vesh will be saved, if your Monster agrees to help us.’
‘But whatever the Monster will do, that will not save Vesh if his memories are already taken.’
‘We secretly keep the memories taken in our vaults. They could be put back into him,’ Seshla said quietly, looking at him sideways.
‘Scent memories!’ Bily said.
The she Monk nodded, looking surprised. ‘Did Ishla speak of them to you?’
Bily shook his head. ‘The diggers who are descended from those that destroyed the stone storm machine have the scent memories of their ancestors who fled North. They must have learned how to make the scent memories here.’
Seshla shook her head. ‘The rebel diggers did come here, but they taught us the making of scent memories. It was after we were sent to this Hidden Place by the Makers, and after Stonehouse was built, that the diggers came. In a way, they planted the seeds of rebellion in us. Before that, my people did not question the Makers plans.’
‘Why did you take the diggers’ memories?’ Bily asked.
‘We had no choice. They wanted to return to their clans, but they knew if they were captured by he Monks or the Listeners, they would be made to talk about us. We took their memories using the same machine that is used to take the he Monk’s memories. But the diggers first showed us how to preserve their memories, and when we released them on the mainland, they carried them in neck pouches. All we did was tell them how to ensure that the scent memories would not wake until they were carried North again.’
Bily wanted to ask what the Monks would do if the Monster refused to go to the Velvet City and become Prime Listener, but he saw a huge pool ahead. Its black water was warm enough to give off a soft mist that hung above the surface of the water, but it was not thick, and through it he could see the island narrowed and stretched out in a long finger that appeared to push through the ice peaks. The path they had been following ran round the edge of the pool and along the finger, vanishing into darkness.
Bily guessed this must be the Long Pool, and the finger of land really did cut through the ice peaks, because that was the way the Nightbeast reached the sea. He wondered where she was. Then she opened her green eyes and he gasped to see she was lying in the water right in front of him, submerged up to her neck. Her strange shifty pelt shone dark as the water.
‘Greetings, First Rider, little Softling,’ she said very formally to them in her furry voice.
Bily bowed as Seshla did, thinking how he had always imagined the Monster’s voice would be brown, if it were a colour. The Nightbeast’s voice was darker – a deep purple, almost black.
She stood, and water poured in great noisy cascades from her midnight fur as she stepped onto the bank. Steam rose around her in a cloud, and when she shook her head, scattering droplets, Bily stepped back hastily, unable to repress a shudder at the thought of being so wet, even if the water was warm. When the Nightbeast had shaken herself thoroughly, her fur was nearly dry. He was fascinated to see it was also beginning to lighten because she was standing on cold fluffs.
‘I wish I could come with you,’ Bily said wistfully.
‘Of course you do, little Softling,’ the Nightbeast said with a chuckle that tickled his mind. ‘But you will be safer here.’
‘Wouldn’t it be better for you both to wait until this blizzard ends before you go out?’ Bily asked.
‘It would,’ Seshla answered. ‘But each blizzard will get worse and we do not want to risk your brother getting West of the mountain range before we find him because the Listeners have planted devices that carry what they see to the Makers.’
‘Thank you, Great One, for helping find Zluty and the diggers,’ Bily said s
olemnly.
‘I prefer your name for me, Softling,’ the Nightbeast said. ‘It is lighter than Great One, which is heavy with awe and sits like a stone on my head.’
Seshla made a little mocking bow. ‘Henceforth you shall be called Nightbeast. A proclamation will have to be issued about it when we return, for you must not be burdened so cruelly with awe.’ Her eyes were laughing and the Nightbeast swatted playfully at her rider with her enormous tail.
Seshla said goodbye to Bily then, and bid him hurry back to the settlement, but he lingered to watch her mount the Nightbeast. They set off at once around the pool and he tried to imagine them coming to the end of the finger of land, where Seshla would dismount and board one of the little floating vessels moored there. She had told him these were used to take the eggs containing the Monk younglings to the place where they would be collected by the Listeners. She would paddle along in the wake of the swimming Nightbeast to the mainland.
Only when they had gone out of sight, did Bily turn to make his way back along the path to the Monk settlement, hidden in the mist at the wide Southern end of the island.
Finnla found Bily wandering lost among the huts.
‘You should not be outside with a blizzard looming,’ she said.
Bily looked up to see that most of the sky was now starless black.
‘I have been wandering in circles in the mist, and then I could not find anyone to ask the way to Ishla’s hut,’ Bily said. ‘Will you show me the way?’
‘Ishla sent me to find you,’ the she Monk said, taking his hand. ‘She was summoned to the Temple. The Broken Prince woke and is asking for you.’
As if it felt his shock, the wind gave a long mournful moan and then there was a strange shuddering in the air.