Corlúka scooped Delân up. The boy’s body was limp. Magdí grabbed a lantern and ran to the back door, throwing it open. They rushed out into the barn with the blonde woman staggering behind them.
‘Lay him on the hay beside the donkey and stand back.’
Delân’s lips were turning blue and his body was now twitching.
The blonde woman dropped to her knees, yelping as some of the dressings were yanked away from the wounds they were protecting. Again she pressed her fingers against Delân’s throat.
‘His heart has stopped. We have to do this now.’
She put one hand on the boy’s head and the other on the donkey’s side. A faint white light began to emanate from her hands. Closing her eyes, the woman muttered to herself.
‘What in the gods’ is she doing?’ Magdí asked.
‘I don’t know.’
The donkey began to bray before its distressed calls were suddenly cut short. Its legs gave way and it fell to the floor. It gasped for air then was silent.
The light from the woman’s hands faded, before disappearing, and she let go of the boy and fell onto her side.
Corlúka stood amazed. He had never seen anything like what he had just witnessed. But Magdí was rushing to Delân, picking him up and cradling him.
‘Corlúka, look,’ she said.
The colour was beginning to return to Delân’s face and his eyelids were fluttering.
‘Delân, you’re alive,’ Magdí exclaimed.
Delân looked up, blinking at the light from the lantern. He stretched his arms and yawned.
Magdí was crying, pulling her son closer to her. Corlúka turned Delân’s face to his.
‘My boy, are you all right?’ Corlúka asked. ‘Can you hear me?’
‘I’m hungry,’ the boy said, wearily.
Corlúka tried to speak but could only emit nervous laughter. He stood up and looked around him, it was then he saw the woman lying beside the dead donkey.
‘How did you save him? How can I ever repay you?’
The woman adjusted one of the dressings on her leg, once again wincing as she did.
‘I transferred your son’s illness to the donkey, and you do not owe me anything.’
‘Who are you?’
The woman held out a hand.
‘Fürisyn Vandinmeíer, at your service.’
‘Vandinmeíer, how do I know that name?’ Magdí asked, as she chopped vegetables and put them in a pot.
‘They used to rule the realm,’ Puthka snapped.
‘Rule it?’
Puthka took a stick and used it to move her wheelchair closer to the table. The wheels bounced on the rough stone floor and she groaned in pain as her debilitated body jerked up and down.
‘The Vandinmeíers ruled Kankulēsis almost three hundred years ago. They’d probably still be in power now were it not for the fact that someone found out they were hiding a child with no shadow in the royal palace.’
‘It can’t be her though, can it?’ Magdí mused. ‘Fürisyn looks like she’s in her twenties.’
Reaching into the pot, Puthka took a slice of carrot and popped it into her mouth. She crunched it before swallowing and then spoke in a hushed tone.
‘She’s a demon. I don’t care that she saved your boy, this woman’s nothing but trouble. You should have told that husband of yours to get rid of her when you had the chance.’
Magdí lifted the pot and placed it on the fire.
‘Listen, Mother. You can say what you want about me or Corlúka, but in my eyes, Delân comes first. I don’t care if Fürisyn came straight from the depths of hell and has devils hanging off her arse. She did what no one else in this city could do, save my son, so she can stay under this roof as long as she needs to.’
Puthka grimaced.
The silence was broken by the sound of the front door swinging open. Delân came running through it and flung his schoolbag into the corner. He bolted into the kitchen and jumped up, hugging Magdí.
‘I’m going out to play with my friends,’ he declared.
‘You’re not going anywhere until you’ve your lessons learned, mister.’
Magdí ushered Delân into the other room, ignoring his protestations. By the time they were finished, the supper was ready and Corlúka had returned home from his work as a carpenter. Magdí divided up what little food there was, serving up an extra portion and setting it by the fire to keep it warm. The family ate their meal together and exchanged stories about what they had done that day. When they had finished eating, Magdí took the extra portion and carried it to the bedroom.
Fürisyn sat up on the bed, taking care not to dislodge any of her dressings.
‘Here’s some food; I’m sorry, but it’s not much,’ Magdí said.
‘It is more than enough.’
Her voice was hoarse and broken, and she gave a sharp intake of breath whenever she moved, yet still managed to sound dignified and regal.
‘Still in pain?’
‘It is not as bad as it was,’ Fürisyn said, beginning to eat. ‘What is happening out there?’
‘They’re still looking for you. The Shadow Watchers are searching the houses.’
‘They are merely random searches. They do not have the resources to do a systematic sweep of the city so they will have to rely on whispers and tip-offs until they can get some hard evidence. You should be fine as long as you and your family keep quiet.’
‘How long for? I mean, you can stay as long as you need to, we owe you so much, but the crime of hiding you in our home is punishable by death, for all of us.’
‘I will need to stay a few more days. Did your husband get rid of the donkey?’
‘He paid two men to help him dump it in the canal. The guards will think it fell in and drowned.’
Magdí sat on the edge of the bed.
‘I just want to tell you again how thankful I am that you saved my son.’
Fürisyn put her hand up to signal for Magdí to stop. ‘You do not have to tell me this every time we speak.’
‘No, hear me out. We’re told by the temples that people without shadows are evil and sent from hell to hurt us. They tell us that your kind are demons and that we should hand you over to the Shadow Watchers whenever we find you. But what I saw in the barn that night was a miracle. How can someone who brought my son back to life be evil?’
Magdí was welling up. Fürisyn put down the bowl and took her by the hand.
‘Do not believe everything the temples tell you, Magdí. We are not how the priests say we are. But you are right, if the Shadow Watchers find me here they will kill everyone. So I will leave soon and your lives can return to normal.’
Drying her eyes, Magdí got to her feet. ‘If there’s anything I can do in return then please just tell me.’
‘Well, there is one thing.’
Fürisyn woke to hear wheels rattling in the corridor.
When she shifted in bed her body was still sore and there was a sharp pain in her side when she rolled over.
Something is wrong, she thought. This pain is getting worse instead of better.
As she checked her dressings, she heard voices coming from the living room.
That is strange. Corlúka and Magdí should be working and Delân will be at school.
Fürisyn dragged herself from the bed. Her muscles ached and she felt lightheaded. She struggled out of the room, using the wall for support. Sunlight streamed in through the windows. She could hear Puthka talking in a low voice.
‘That’s a good little boy. You take that money and agree to what I say. Got it?’
Fürisyn stood in the doorway, one hand against the wall and the other holding her side.
‘Ah, the very person,’ Puthka said with a smile. ‘We were just talking about you.’
Puthka was in a corner of the room with a boy who looked to be around ten years old standing beside her. The boy was thin and looked dirty.
‘What is going on?’ Fürisyn asked.
‘I left you some oatmeal for your morning meal,’ Puthka began. ‘Or you can have my egg if you want, I’m sure you’re hungry, you poor thing.’
‘Who is this boy?’
‘This is Jondal; he’s a very special friend of mine.’
Fürisyn raised an eyebrow and then shifted her gaze in the direction of the boy.
‘Is that right?’
Jondal shrugged his shoulders.
‘Guess so.’
The boy was clutching something in his hand so hard that his knuckles were white.
‘And just why exactly do you have a young boy as a special friend?’
Puthka took her stick and pushed her wheelchair into the centre of the room.
‘I’ve always watched over Jondal. I’ve looked out for him and made sure he was kept safe and well fed, and now he wants to do something for me in return.’
‘What could he possibly do for you?’
‘He wants to help me by taking away my ailments.’
Fürisyn stood in silence, a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.
‘Magdí told me what happened in the barn so I know what you can do,’ Puthka said.
‘I am shocked. In over three hundred years, I have never encountered such a selfish person.’
‘What?’ Puthka protested. ‘The boy’s happy to do it. Aren’t you?’
‘I suppose so.’
Fürisyn shook her head in disbelief.
‘Let me see if I have understood you correctly. You want me to transfer the problems that affect you over to this young boy? Is that right?’
‘Yes.’
‘You want me to condemn this child to a chair like yours, for the rest of his life, so you can get up and walk for the little remaining time you have left?’
‘He’s a street urchin,’ Puthka snapped. ‘There’s hundreds of them out there. What does it matter if this one can’t walk?’
‘Hey,’ Jondal protested.
‘Get over here, boy,’ Fürisyn snapped.
Jondal edged closer, his eyes darting between the two women. When Fürisyn felt he was close enough she grabbed him by the neck. Pain shot through her arm at the exertion and she spun the boy around to face Puthka.
‘Did she tell you what I do, boy?’ Fürisyn snarled. ‘I take the afflictions and the disease from people’s bodies and I force them into others, whether they like it or not. Is that what you want?’
Fürisyn could feel the pulse in the boy’s neck quickening.
‘Take a good look at the woman in that chair. Do you want her paralysis? What about the blindness she has in one of her eyes, do you like the look of that? How about the rotting teeth and the warts, would you like them too?’
Jondal began to sob. ‘I don’t want any of it.’
‘Give back that money and get out of here before I tan your hide.’
Fürisyn pushed Jondal towards the door. The exertion caused her to fall against the wall, wincing with pain. The boy dropped the coins and darted out the front door, slamming it behind him.
‘What are you doing? That was my last chance at a better life,’ Puthka yelled.
‘You heartless bitch. You would have happily had me give that boy your inflictions, even though he has his full life ahead of him, and you will be lucky to see one more harvest.’
‘He’s an orphan from the streets.’
‘He is a child,’ Fürisyn stressed.
‘You think you’re so righteous, protecting some boy who means nothing to you. You can go to hell.’
‘By the looks of things, you will be there long before me.’
The sandstone room was filled with sacks and boxes, stacked in piles against the walls. It was an hour before dawn and the temple acolytes were scurrying around lighting torches and lanterns. The high priest, Cuel, stood in the vestibule inspecting the crowbar. The broken parts of the lock lay scattered around him and the chest lid was open. He gazed at the broken window, the fragments of which now littered the floor.
‘The city guards are here, Your Excellency,’ one of the acolytes said.
‘Show them in.’
The clattering of chainmail filled Cuel’s ears as six armoured men entered. They looked around the room.
‘I’m told you had a break-in earlier tonight,’ the man in charge, the watch sergeant, said. ‘What can you tell us about it?’
‘It looks like they came in through there,’ Cuel declared, pointing at the broken window.
The watch sergeant walked to the window, inspecting it, before returning to the open chest. It was empty save for a pile of blue robes and a rusty incense burner.
‘They’re certainly no burglar,’ the watch sergeant proclaimed.
‘How do you know?’
‘They smashed the window before coming in through it. The noise from that alone could have raised the alarm. The lock wasn’t picked, it was forced open. This was a warrior, not a thief.’
The watch sergeant took the crowbar, held it up to the light and examined it.
‘No distinguishing markings. So what was taken then?’ he asked, looking around the room.
High Priest Cuel shifted before taking a deep breath.
‘A bag of gold coins and a scroll.’
‘So a bag of gold then?’
‘No. A bag of gold coins and a scroll.’
The watch sergeant stopped scanning the room and looked him in the eye. ‘But the scroll can be replaced, can it not? I mean, it’s just a rolled-up piece of paper.’
‘Not this scroll. This one is irreplaceable.’
The sergeant narrowed his eyes. ‘What exactly does this scroll do?’
High Priest Cuel gulped then rubbed his forehead.
‘It is used for summoning.’
‘Summoning what?’
‘Kröm.’
The sergeant stepped closer to the high priest and spoke quietly. ‘You had a scroll capable of summoning a god, and you kept it in a box with spare robes?’
‘How many boxes do you see in this room? How many bags, sacks and crates? There are thousands of gold pieces here; whoever broke in went straight for the scroll.’
‘It should have been put somewhere safe,’ the sergeant insisted.
‘It was locked in a chest,’ High Priest Cuel snapped. ‘No one knew it was here.’
‘Someone obviously did.’
Using the sheets, Fürisyn pulled herself across the bed and reached for her satchel. The coins moved around when she lifted it up. She set it on the bed and took out the money bag. There were at least five hundred gold coins in it.
Reaching back inside the satchel she slid out the metal cylinder, sealed with wax. Just under a foot long, the blue and green container had intricate runes on its top and bottom. Sea creatures had also been carved into it, inlaid with gold and silver, with diamonds for eyes. As the light from the morning sun came in through the window, it changed the colours of the container.
Fürisyn shook it slightly. There was a rustle. Then she pressed it gently against her nose, its smell bringing memories of her youth, growing up in the town of Kreslotté by the Bay of Thunder, flooding back.
So this is the scroll that is going to lure Kröm to us, she thought.
Corlúka knocked on the door. Fürisyn called to him to come in. She was lying on top of the bed examining the cuts on her shoulders. She had her hair tied back and was wearing one of his wife’s tunics; which although came down below Magdí’s knees, barely reached Fürisyn’s thighs. Her bloodied armour lay in a pile in the corner along with discarded bandages. Corlúka could see that her wounds had clean dressings on them.
‘Magdí said you wanted to see me.’
‘I have something I need you to do.’
Corlúka sat down on a stool beside the bed. ‘What is it?’
‘Your livelihood is suffering because you do not have a donkey.’
‘The people who hire me don’t always have wood on site, so I have to go to the lumber mill and buy it. I used the donkey and cart to transport the wood to wherever I was working in the city, but now I have to move it by hand.’
‘I have also noticed that you do not have a lot of food. It cannot have been easy having an extra mouth to feed, even if it has only been for a few days.’
‘We make do. Don’t feel like you’re imposing. You’re welcome to stay as long as you want. You saved my boy’s life.’
Fürisyn looked out the window. Then, she reached under the covers and produced a pile of gold pieces, counting out ten and placing them on the bed.
Corlúka looked on in awe. He had never seen so much gold; this was over a year’s wages to him.
‘What’s this for?’
‘I want you to buy a horse, not a donkey, and a bigger cart, and food for your family. But I also need you to get a message to Krysteról at the Dragon’s Rest Inn. Tell him I have the scroll and that I need immediate transport out of the city. Can you do that?’
Corlúka was still transfixed by the gold coins.
‘Corlúka?’ Fürisyn snapped.
‘Yes. Horse. Food. Message. Got it.’
‘I need you to do this now, Corlúka. Take Magdí; if you are with your wife, it will draw less attention to you. Try to keep a low profile and tell no one where you got the money from. Now get going.’
After she had given him directions to the inn, Corlúka scooped up the gold and set off with Magdí across the city.
Thanatüs was still busy even though most of the street traders and merchants had packed up for the day. Taverns and inns were coming alive as their patrons returned for an evening meal and a beverage.
Corlúka and Magdí walked through the city’s dusty streets until they reached the livery yards. After picking out a horse they went to the cartwright before making their way to the inn.
Shadowless Page 41
