Turrik had carried out Tarkanyon's instructions while Drius and Tarkanyon stayed with the woodsman's family. Arrangements were made for Tarkanyon to sit in the baby's nursery with the parents, while Drius was just outside. Evening came. The darkness felt thick and imposing. It was still and silent, but not peaceful.
Tarkanyon refilled a lamp with oil while the mother decided to leave the room for a few moments. A few minutes later the father decided to also step out, after explaining he needed to relieve himself. Tarkanyon was left alone with the child and waited, his bo placed firmly by his side.
Tarkanyon's thoughts went over the events of the last two days. Why was Bahula looking for the Wealth from him? Was Ay telling the truth about her? Why would she ask for him by name? He remembered her icy fingers in his head... so cold, so desperate. None of it made sense. How could the Wealth be in someone? What could it possibly mean that the Wealth would come with a child? And surely not here, in a mere wood cabin, with this innocent child. And not now?
But if the Wealth had come, then so would the Moncoin. The Twin Cities being at war was strange, he admitted that. But was the Moncoin involved in that? Surely not. It all seemed so... quick. Surely--
Suddenly he heard a small crack from outside the window. He sat up. But after a few minutes nothing more stirred and he relaxed.
Then again a loud crack, this time as if there was a bump against the cabin. Immediately he was up, expecting Drius or the parents to enter the room or go investigate. But no one stirred. He moved over to the window and looked outside, but he dare not open it. He waited for a few moments for someone, but still nothing.
He opened the nursery door and noticed it was very dark. No one could be seen in the passageway.
“Drius!” he cried. There was no response.
At once the window in the room flew open and a strong breeze gushed in, snuffing out the lamps. Tarkanyon ran inside the nursery but his eyes couldn’t adjust to the sudden darkness fast enough. His heart raced all the more as he heard scuffling in the corner.
“Halt!”
Something was in the room! Remembering his bearings he moved swiftly to where the cot was, looking frantically for the child.
But he found nothing.
“Halt!” he cried again. “Drius! It is outside!”
Fumbling he ran towards the window and lifted it higher, jumping out. He saw a dark figure moving through to the front of the house. He chased after it, watching in horror as it came into the moonlight. Nearby stood its black horse, neighing and ready to gallop as soon as it was given word.
“Halt!” Tarkanyon screamed again as he ran towards the figure, wondering to himself where Drius and the parents could possibly be. The figure kicked its horse which jumped into action. In the moonlight Tarkanyon's fears were proved true – the infant was in its arms. He stood wide eyed for a moment before getting his wits about him and running into the house.
The front door was locked tight so he smashed through it, immediately seeing the woodsman, his wife and Drius lying on the floor. Quickly he felt the woodsman's pulse, who was closest to him, and he realised that they were in a deep sleep.
“What dark magic is this?” he cried confusingly as he sprang outside, running to the other side of the house and into the small stable attached to the home. He cut Polin's ropes with his small knife and mounted. He plunged his horse forward in hot pursuit of the kidnapper.
Polin was swifter than the kidnapper's horse, who was following the path in the wood closely, but riding hard. Tarkanyon saw the kidnapper look back at one stage and kick the horse harder.
He began to catch up, ducking when a branch hung too low over the path. The kidnapper knew the track better than he did, but Polin was still quicker and more intelligent, knowing how to help Tarkanyon from being scuffled by any branches as the chase wore on. They soon came close enough for Tarkanyon to study the figure.
“It is a man, yes,” Tarkanyon said to himself. The man turned sharply right, still following the path. It curved in an s-shape before straightening out, and as Tarkanyon turned the corner he saw that the kidnapper had stopped and stood still in the path.
Tarkanyon, unsure of what now to expect, slowed down a little. But Polin suddenly stopped and wouldn’t budge. He was about to rebuke him when a premonition came over him. Something was awry here. Something or someone else was watching them.
The kidnapper seemed to be focused on something on the side of the road – something hiding in the forest. Tarkanyon watched closely, taking a deep breath of the cold air, and then he saw it too. In a beam of moonlight a woolly, thick hairy beast that seemed to be a dog of some kind stared at the kidnapper from near the path. Its back was curved and sloped, its shoulders higher than its hindquarters, and it seemed as if its front legs were larger than its rear legs. Tarkanyon had never seen such an animal before.
The kidnapper was cautious, as if he was trying to soothe the beast in some way. Neither crickets nor any other night creatures were making a noise. Tarkanyon suddenly noticed that. The kidnapper moved slowly and deliberately, but the infant started to cry in his arms, and the creature's eyes opened widely revealing a deep yellow colour with thick black slits.
“You will get your feast,” whispered the kidnapper to the creature. “That you shall.”
The dog wore what could only be described as a grin, staring at the infant. With clenched teeth Tarkanyon kicked Polin to move forward but he only stood still, cautious and afraid of what was ahead.
“Ride! Polin! That infant's life! What is it?” Tarkanyon whispered. The horse only stamped, but the kidnapper jerked.
“Halt! Do not come--” cried the kidnapper. A male voice. A deep raspy voice. It reminded Tarkanyon of someone. The kidnapper looked at the creature. “You shall be discovered! Hide!” he whispered loudly. “I have never let you down before, have I?” He then kicked his horse and galloped further down the path.
“Ride now, Polin! For an infant's life depends on you!” Tarkanyon shouted, kicking Polin again, but he just stamped his left foot.
Tarkanyon drew out his bo expecting the dog-creature to attack, but instead it moved away and the tension in the air lightened. Polin relaxed and Tarkanyon kicked him again; this time he reared up stronger and rode with all his might after the kidnapper.
The path opened up to the wide road they had come through in the morning. On the other end of the road was the lake. Tarkanyon could see the kidnapper riding towards where he expected – Ay's estate.
“The fool!” he shouted, wondering for a brief moment if he meant Ay or himself. He pushed Polin towards the estate and rode hard, but found himself too late again when he galloped into the courtyard. Ay was rushing out the stable with the infant in his arms. He stopped for only a moment when he saw Tarkanyon, and even in the darkness Tarkanyon saw the flash of realisation in his eyes.
“You?” he mouthed and then ran off.
“Ay!” shouted Tarkanyon. “Your riddles have now gone too far!”
Ay rushed up the stairs and through the double door entrance. Tarkanyon leaped off Polin at once, shunting his bo into the ground to use it to leapfrog further, so that he landed on the stairs. But as he raced into the main hall he could not see where Ay went, and most of the castle was still in darkness. He stood for a moment wondering where Ay may have gone and then it occurred to him.
“Bahula!” he shouted out loud and raced through the castle, trying to remember where the back door to the lake was. He fumbled his way through and finally managed to find a door out the back, noticing the boat already on the other side of the lake.
He stopped at the water's edge and was about to jump in and swim when he hesitated, his eyes wide open. Bahula was in that water.
“An infant's life depends on it!” Tarkanyon said to himself, but he still hesitated. His mind was racing – he couldn't think!
“She could be distracted with the infant,” he thought to himself. “Oh, I hope!”
He dived in. It was icy cold
. His dream came back to him. On every stroke he saw nothing but deep blackness in the water and an ill-foreboding tried to grip his heart, the darkness below tugging at him, calling him.
An ancient and cold evil was in this water. Tarkanyon knew it. Yet he sensed that it was more than just the water dragon. Something else was there, and it was watching him. He wondered if Bahula knew of it and whether she was allied with it. Each icy stroke brough more questions to his mind. He was sure he saw a flash, a light, something under the water, but he resolved to keep swimming – harder, quicker, more determined.
Eventually he arrived at the island, trying to pull himself up onto the shore. This he found difficult as the edge of the island was soft and muddy in the water, breaking off wherever he tried. Then he found a rock at the edge and managed to grip the top of it. Out he got, wiping his braids covering his face and looking back, seeing a faint light on the other end.
“Tarkanyon!” cried a voice. It was Drius.
“I hear you!” Tarkanyon shouted back. “You must get the others! I fear there is more here than we know!”
“I will!” Drius replied.
Turning around he rushed up the small path, ducking under large rocks jutting out. It was not easy to run up the path but it didn't take long. The tower's door stood ajar and Tarkanyon withdrew his bo, flinging the door wide open with it. He peered in and only saw the deep darkness going down. He tried to search for the tinder box that Ay kept by the door but there was nothing.
“Confound that riddler!” he cursed. “I do not understand any of this!”
He fumbled in his cloak and pulled out his own tinder box, lighting his bo and shoving it into the entrance to ensure there were no surprises. He hesitated a moment and licked his lips. Should he wait for the others? What of the voice in the pillar? What was Ay doing?
Shaking his head again he decided action was what was needed. This was no time to plan. He preferred action anyway. So he plunged in, avoiding the broken bricks and areas that he could remember that were worn away, racing down, down, down.
At the bottom of the stairs he saw flashing colours - glimmering blues, yellows, greens and reds — emanating from the room with the pillar. It was strangely quiet. He couldn’t bear to think what was going on with the infant. With wise caution, however, he entered the room and at once saw the little girl lying on the top of the pillar of the Voice.
Surrounding her were moving lights. The same lights in his dream! The same lights from the mountains! They were more a reflection of light than a light itself, reflecting against the ceilings, ground and the child. As they circled they changed colours.
Ay, who was sitting on his haunches towards the back of the room, saw him step in and stood up, holding his thick black gloved hand up before him.
“Come no closer,” he whispered.
As he did so, the reflections of light vibrated and became hazy, but then strengthened again.
Tarkanyon stood looking at the scene. “I am tired of your riddles,” he said. “For it seems evident that you have never been honest with me.”
The lights vibrated again, every time he spoke. He looked closely at Ay, who was staring at the infant. His eyes had a glaze about them, as if he was in a trance.
Tarkanyon became aware of a whispering hiss to his right. He knew who that was. He turned to look and saw Bahula's womanly apparition standing close by.
“So, there is no Nok after all,” Tarkanyon said. “Only the two of you.”
“The child will not be harmed,” Ay replied slowly. “They are never harmed.”
Tarkanyon looked at the child and then at Bahula. He could sense something was happening in the air, and he recalled Bahula's icy fingers searching through him. She hissed and slowly threw her head back, but there was no face under the cloak. The air grew thick and a haze grew around him, lulling him to a false peace. He tried to shake it off but it grew ever stronger.
“She must be beautiful,” Ay said dreamily, piercing through the blanket of sleep that was choking Tarkanyon; but his voice couldn't break through. “She will be beautiful.”
Time seemed to have stopped. Tarkanyon could not fight it. But eventually Bahula's hiss echoing off the walls of the room began to grow softer. She lowered her head.
“This child does not have it,” whispered Ay. He moved to the pillar and delicately lifted the little girl. The lights disappeared as if they were never even there. The room returned to a faint glimmer of red from Tarkanyon's bo and Ay's lamp.
“I do not understand,” he continued. “Twice now the Voice has spoken to us of a child with the Wealth when a newborn has come to the people, and twice now they do not have it.”
Ay looked at Tarkanyon. “What say you? Can we trust him?” he said. Bahula hissed in return. “I think he does not understand,” Ay added, “he is not for us or against us; he simply does not know. Ah!”
Merexia and Drius flooded the room. Merexia, with an incredible amount of agility, grabbed the infant from Ay and Drius gave him a blow at the back of the head. Ay fell down and Behula stepped back, disappearing through the wall, leaving only water droplets behind. The spell over Tarkanyon broke in an instant.
“Tarkanyon, what's going on?” Drius cried, leaning over Ay.
“I don’t know!” Tarkanyon replied, breathing hard.
“What were you doing, just standing there?”
Tarkanyon shook his head. “I fear I was under the influence of a deep spell.”
“Yes, Drius was too this night,” said Merexia.
Tarkanyon came to stand over Ay. He grimaced. “This man must face his king's justice.”
“What of the other?” Merexia asked, looking over where Bahula's apparition had been.
“She will be an enemy yet,” Tarkanyon said. “For she lives in the water of this lake, and we must still cross it. I fear we'll be in great danger if we try.”
Drius looked at Ay, puzzled. “Is she allied with him?”
Tarkanyon considered that a moment. “It would seem so,” he said eventually, “and that might be our salvation for crossing this lake. How is the infant?”
Merexia looked at the child. “Sleeping. Soundly, too,” he said.
“I hope it will wake,” Tarkanyon said. “Come, let's wake this tyrant and interrogate him. We must find a way to cross this lake and the water dragon might not attack if we have him.”
“Water dragon?” Drius asked.
“The woman. She is an ancient water dragon. Apparently, according to him.” Tarkanyon pointed at Ay. “Let us wake him.”
Ay awoke slowly and clearly bewildered. Eventually he seemed to realise where he was and sat up. Looking around he seemed afraid for only a moment before regaining his confidence.
“Tell us if the baby will live,” Tarkanyon asked him scornfully.
Ay shook his head but replied calmly. “Outlander, you do not – and will not – understand. Your questions cannot be answered, for you are not of Us. It is only those of Us who may know the answers you seek; those of you can not, and shall not.”
“Riddles!” shouted Tarkanyon, smacking his bo into the ground. “What will become of this infant? Answer me!”
“It is hard to say, now that you have taken her,” answered Ay.
Tarkanyon looked at him with ever more contempt. “This infant would have been in no danger if you had not stolen her. Do not accuse us of hurting this child!”
Ay simply looked at him, challenging him with his eyes.
“Will the infant live?” Tarkanyon asked again.
“The infant will live, certainly,” replied Ay. “But what will become of her? That I do not know.”
Tarkanyon shook his head and sighed deeply. “She must go home then,” he said and looked at Ay with disgust. “You will be tried.”
“It is your conscience, not mine,” Ay said, looking at him.
“First,” Tarkanyon continued, “We are to cross this lake. You will command your water dragon to leave us be.”
>
Ay thinned his lips. “She will not harm us. Her will has never been to hurt the child, and we now carry the child. She will leave us be.”
“Then you will tell us the meaning of the madness,” Tarkanyon charged. But Ay just continued to stare at him. After a few moments, realising he was going to get no quick answers, Tarkanyon commanded Drius and Merexia to bind Ay and take him out.
At the edge of the lake Tarkanyon asked Ay one more time to command Bahula to leave them. Ay simply repeated that she would not harm them. Tarkanyon looked at the boat and beckoned for Drius and Merexia to put Ay in it first.
“Well, we cannot fly,” he mumbled angrily to himself, loud enough for them all to hear. Ay was forced in to the boat and then they all hopped in. In silence Tarkanyon pushed them off. With each stroke of the oar he braced himself for an attack. Those eyes were on him, he could feel it. The hair on his neck prickled and there was an iciness about the air. He was thankful that the faint gray of morning was approaching.
Merexia and Drius were sitting ready with their bo's, while Ay simply stared at Tarkanyon. Eventually Tarkanyon lost his patience.
“What?” he barked. But Ay said nothing except look at him. Tarkanyon tried to ignore him.
There was a bump on the boat and Merexia gasped. Tarkanyon looked at Ay again.
“You command her to leave us be,” he charged.
“She will,” Ay replied, giving Tarkanyon an icy look. Tarkanyon replied with an equal look and began rowing again.
“What was that creature in the forest, the one you spoke to?” Tarkanyon asked Ay after a while.
Ay never replied. Tarkanyon opened his mouth again but realised it was useless. Besides, they were now on the other side already.
CHAPTER TWENTY