Palom

by L. L. McNeil

  ‘Mal…a…shash.’

  Sapora looked across the cave to see Tacio stood by the wall, reading from a plaque nailed into the rock several feet above.

  ‘This was the treasure? An Ark’s resting place?’ Tacio said.

  Sapora grinned. ‘This isn’t some ceremonial gravesite, Tacio. This is the real thing.’

  ‘Not possible.’

  ‘Anything’s possible when you believe it.’ Sapora made his way across the cave to stand beside him. ‘I’m going to write history.’ He pulled out the small knife he kept in his sleeve, and dragged it along his palm in one, clean, slice.

  Balling his hand into a fist, he let his blood trickle through his fingers before placing his palm against the soil, the tips of his claws touching the plaque.

  For a moment nothing happened, and then, once the blood seeped out, the wall cracked.

  Sapora felt his heart in his throat as the wall fell away to reveal a tunnel. It had to be four feet in diameter—a squeeze in his true form. ‘Shall we?’

  Tacio paced near the entrance. ‘Down there? I’ll…get dirty.’

  ‘You’ve lived underground your whole life!’

  ‘In spotlessly clean Varkain tunnels. This looks like a damned badger dug it!’

  ‘I may need you.’

  Tacio scratched the back of his head.

  ‘Well. Just your blood. Don’t you want to be part of the new age of the Varkain?’

  Tacio scowled at him, and Sapora felt his increased heart rate, smelled the sweat on his skin.

  ‘Just a little blood.’ Sapora pulled out the knife and handed it to Tacio. The Varkain took it begrudgingly, cut his hand in a similar way, and handed back the bloodied blade.

  ‘I hope that’s worth it,’ Tacio hissed, caressing his hand.

  ‘Perfect.’

  Sapora slipped the blade back into his sleeve and crouched down, shuffling into the tunnel.

  ‘See you on the other side,’ Tacio called down to him, but Sapora had lost interest in the irritating Varkain.

  The walls closed in on him within a few steps as the tunnel narrowed, the roof sloping down. Sapora ended up crawling on his hands and feet, until suddenly the tunnel stopped.

  He cursed, looking around—had he missed a turning? Reaching forward, Sapora pressed against the tunnel wall and found it quite solid. When he put his hand back on the ground, soil fell away under his fingers.

  Shuffling back, Sapora dug with his claws, shovelling soil and unearthing a hole in the tunnel floor. When it was wide enough for him to fit through, he clambered through it.

  Loose dirt and worms clung to his skin, clothes and hair, but he ignored it all, dropping several feet to a much wider tunnel where he could stand. Now in pitch dark, Sapora relied on his sense of smell, hearing, and touch to navigate.

  He followed it, crouching when the roof of the tunnel sloped, and squeezing through gaps sideways when it became too narrow to pass otherwise.

  The tunnel was nothing like Sereth—even the more remote parts. Spiders scurried out of his path, even over him, and loose rocks and soil fell away from the walls when he touched them.

  Smaller, side tunnels peeled off, and Sapora wondered more than once whether or not he should try those. But the smell of dirty water and the squeaking of rats made him think otherwise.

  Malashash couldn’t possibly be near vermin.

  The main tunnel dropped away suddenly, and Sapora lost his footing, almost landing face-first in the dirt. He cursed, picked himself up, and continued.

  He shifted into his true form now the tunnel was wider, and progressed quickly, his tongue keeping him away from dead ends and warning him when the tunnel curved.

  Minutes passed in silence.

  The tunnel’s walls grew smoother, and the ceiling sloped towards him.

  Forced to transform back, Sapora shuffled along in a crouch, his back aching, but the tunnel didn’t relent. The walls and ceiling pressed down on him, until he was on his hands and knees again.

  He took deep breaths to calm himself, but found he inhaled bits of dirt and spider’s web and coughed it all out again.

  Still, the tunnel continued, narrowing again until he had to lay on his belly and pull himself along with his elbows.

  He couldn’t push through this for much longer.

  A thump of soil falling made him freeze, and he felt a weight on his foot.

  Damn the tunnel.

  It couldn’t cave in.

  It couldn’t!

  Slowly, Sapora pulled himself forward another body length, careful not to disturb the walls or ceiling too much.

  He desperately wanted to transform again but wasn’t sure if it would help given how fragile the tunnel seemed to be.

  The walls pressed against his shoulders, and he thought of turning back.

  It must be the wrong way…if nothing could fit through here?

  Sapora shuffled forward again, unwilling to give up, unsure whether he’d be able to back out and try another way before he needed to rest.

  He could hardly turn his head as the earth pressed into him from all sides, and he held his breath to stop trembling.

  Had…he been mistaken?

  A whiff of something…stone?

  Sapora swallowed.

  Something other than soil?

  He pushed forward, the weight of the tunnel threatening to collapse on his back.

  The smell grew stronger, and he continued with renewed vigour, until he came at last to a circular stone lip, marking the edge of the tunnel.

  Hardly able to believe he’d reached the end, Sapora pulled himself across the edge and fell into a wide stone chamber—the tomb of Malashash.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Solvi wandered the street of Little Yomal, scared and alone. She’d visited friends who’d lived in the district while she’d studied but had never roamed the streets at night.

  Palom’s instructions hadn’t been particularly clear, and she knew she had to hurry.

  Mateli could already be back at the inn, finishing him off.

  Many of the townhouses were stacked high, three or four homes cramped in one tall building, but none seemed to have the blue flowers Palom had described.

  She clutched Palom’s small bag to her chest as she hurried up and down different streets, looking for anything close to a healer’s home. She wished he would have let her go back to Sol—there were plenty of healers there—but she couldn’t say no to his pleading. He’d begged as if his life depended on it.

  Solvi hurried down another street, relieved when she saw a pair of Ittallan at the end. Surely, they’d know of a local healer named Lathri?

  ‘Excuse me! Excuse me?’ She called, running down to where they wandered.

  They turned around to look at her, a man and a woman, and Solvi pulled up short. They swayed on their feet, leaning into one another and then stumbling away.

  Had they been drinking?

  ‘Hi, I’m looking for Lathri. She’s a healer here. Do you know where I could find her, please?’ Solvi asked.

  They stared blankly at her, and she cleared her throat. ‘Lathri. A healer in Little Yomal.’

  Still nothing

  She huffed. There wasn’t any time for this. Even drunks were usually more responsive.

  ‘Please can you help?’ She tried again, getting frantic. At this hour, there was hardly anyone about. No patrols of the Imperial Guard, no open inns. The residential area was sound asleep.

  The couple stumbled into each other again and collapsed to the floor with a thud.

  ‘Never mind…’ Solvi sighed, turning away from them. She had to have been up every street in the district by now.

  She had to hurry. Had to find Lathri before Mateli decided to try and—

  The woman grabbed her arm, trying to pull herself back up to her feet.

  ‘Solvi.’

  Electricity coursed through her, bringing her to her knees.

  ‘What are you doing here…’
r />   The voice reminded her of pali, only colder somehow. ‘I’m trying to get help…’

  ‘Help? You don’t need help.’

  ‘Not for me…’ She answered, and suddenly she was spinning in the dark like she’d just tumbled down a hill.

  ‘No. No help for you. No help for anyone.’

  She shivered, her body numbing.

  ‘You need to get away. You don’t belong here, do you?’

  ‘I don’t…?’ She thought she knew, but now the voice told her otherwise, suddenly she wasn’t sure.

  ‘No. You need to die.’

  A distant sensation somewhere on the edge of her fingertips. Fear. Sadness. Pain?

  ‘I need…’ Solvi began to repeat, and then the connection was gone.

  Solvi blinked her eyes open, cold sweat running down her forehead. She was sat on the street, the couple she’d tried to talk to flat on their backs several paces from her, and a new Ittallan stood between her and them.

  ‘Can you get up?’ She asked, her voice harsh.

  Solvi swallowed and tested her legs and found them responsive. She got to her feet, and suddenly realised she didn’t have the bag anymore. ‘Oh no!’

  ‘What’s the matter?’ The woman asked.

  ‘My bag. I had a small jewellery bag…’

  ‘To your side.’

  Solvi followed the instruction and gasped in relief when she saw the bag on the edge of the street. She grabbed it and checked everything was still there.

  Her head span, a painful, cold pressure building behind her eyes. ‘What happened?’

  ‘There’s a sickness in the city. Seems to take hold of vulnerable people. The old, the young.’ The woman glanced to the two she’d knocked to the floor. ‘Those no longer in control of their senses…Touch ‘em and you’ll get it too. But it takes a few minutes to take hold. You’re lucky.’

  Solvi nodded. ‘Thank you so much. I’m looking for Lathri, she’s a healer—’

  ‘I know her. She’s my…Well she’s a friend of mind,’ the woman said. ‘Why do you need her?’

  ‘My kali—my uncle—he’s been attacked. He’s badly hurt. He asked me to get Lathri personally. Please can you show me where she lives? I can’t find the house with blue flowers?’ Tears threatened as she thought to how much time had passed since she’d left him.

  ‘Who’s your uncle?’

  ‘His name is Palom,’ Solvi said. ‘There’s not much time. Please, please can you take me to her?’

  ‘Sure. This is becoming quite the eventful night.’

  It turned out that Solvi hadn’t been far off—the woman only led her three streets away before she spotted the towering building, blue roses cascading off the rooftop balcony. The woman made her wait outside, which suited Solvi fine—she only hoped Lathri would hurry.

  After a minute or two of waiting, the woman returned along with a man who looked just like her, and an older woman who seemed to glow white in the darkness.

  She felt her energy like a mist that spread and grew, calming her, and Solvi immediately understood why Palom had asked to see Lathri and no-one else.

  ‘Hello. Kylos tells me you’re Palom’s niece?’ Lathri said.

  She nodded, and held out the jewellery bag to her, ‘I’m Solvi. He asked me to give this to you, and please, please, Lathri, can you help him? It was Mateli…I…I don’t know if he’ll survive the night. I came here as fast as I could.’

  Lathri sighed, as though she were being given mildly inconvenient news, rather than someone who desperately needed her was on the brink of death.

  ‘Did Palom kill Mateli?’

  ‘No. He could be back any minute. That’s why you have to hurry! Please! Lathri…?’ Solvi asked, her panic and growing headache threatening to throw her manners out the window. ‘Lathri, he’s dying!’

  The healer nodded, solemn. ‘Where is he?’

  ‘The Waterside Inn, Rio Neva,’ Solvi replied immediately.

  ‘All right, then. It’s not too far.’

  Solvi grinned, her eye twitching as her headache intensified.

  ‘Aetos, would you mind coming with me? Eyes in the sky would help if Mateli is still nearby.’

  ‘I’ll take you back there,’ Solvi said, getting ready to transform again, when a blinding pain burst through her head.

  ‘Solvi?’ Lathri asked, rushing to her side and resting a hand on her head. ‘Oh dragons above, you poor thing. Kylos, would you bring her inside? Keep her warm. I doubt I’ll be back before dawn.’

  The woman crouched down and pulled Solvi into an embrace, then picked her up. Solvi squeezed an eye open. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘It’s all right. Side effect of the sickness. You’ll be fine with some rest.’

  ‘Promise?’ Solvi asked.

  ‘Promise,’ Lathri said. ‘I’ll go to Palom now. Don’t worry.’

  *

  Dawn sun streamed through the window, and Palom grunted. He’d not slept at all since Solvi left—hadn’t dared to—though his body screamed for rest.

  He knew Solvi would have rushed to Taban Yul, and he could only hope that she’d found Lathri. Surely, she would come. If not…then, he supposed he’d meet his end when Mateli returned to finish what he’d started.

  The wound on his temple still bled, but it had slowed some. Blooded linen littered his bed, and he’d struggled to rip apart the rest to create more bandages.

  Palom wanted to crawl to the river and wash away his wounds but knew that would be suicide. The fire had burnt low again, and he hadn’t the strength to pull more firewood from the store and place it in the hearth.

  He’d failed the egg as much as he’d failed himself, Solvi, his father.

  His Valta Forinja rested against the wall, and he cursed for not grabbing that when he’d had the chance. Surely it would have cleaved Mateli in two, and he wouldn’t be in this ridiculous situation.

  Palom had envisioned Mateli in his room more than once—sometimes charging him, sometimes leering over him, blood dripping from his fangs.

  He shuddered at the memory.

  If only he could pull himself from the bed…grab hold of the sword…

  An owl hooted.

  Palom hadn’t imagined anything that time, had he?

  He propped himself up onto his elbows and strained to peer out of the window.

  It hooted again, louder, this time.

  ‘Lathri…?’ He couldn’t yell, didn’t have the strength to.

  He looked around, saw only linens on the bed, nothing that he could shove or push to make noise. ‘Lathri…’ He called, weaker this time.

  Please let her have heard.

  His vision swam with the blood loss.

  A flutter of wings, the tap of talons on the window ledge.

  He looked up to see an owl fill the window-frame, its feathers a mix of brown and white, its eyes ringed with black feathers, making her yellow-orange eyes all the more striking.

  He’d recognise the colouration and markings anywhere.

  ‘Lathri…’

  She opened her wings to glide into the room, where she transformed back. ‘Palom…Why did you take on Mateli?’

  He bowed his head, chest heaving as he struggled for breath. ‘He killed…these people. I had…to protect…Sol.’

  She scowled at him. ‘It’s not your job to protect anyone! You can live your life without protecting people! You’re not a failure if you don’t!’ She lifted her hands, her energy filling the room.

  Palom winced as a torrent of warm air covered him, his wounds tingling as they healed.

  She walked closer to him, stepping around the bloody laundry until her fingers touched his face. Her magic flowed through him, filling him with strength and energy.

  ‘You…you have saved me.’

  She dropped her hand and looked more drained than he had when she’d arrived. ‘I haven’t done anything,’ she said in a tired voice.

  ‘You have?’ Palom rested a hand on her shoulder. ‘I was injured. May
be dying. Now, I am strong again, thanks to you.’

  He breathed in her scent, wished he could stay like this, with her, forever. He felt her tremble under him, wished her healing powers did not take so much energy from her. ‘I heard you before, Lathri,’ he said. ‘Before Mateli. Before this. When I came to Rio Neva forest, three Varkain attacked me.’

  ‘Palom?’ She frowned.

  ‘An owl hooted. Warned me of Varkain attack.’

  ‘It wasn’t me, Palom. Aside from now, I’ve not left Taban Yul,’ she said.

  He blinked. ‘But…I heard…I thought…’

  She shook her head, fought to stave off tears, but they spilled down her cheeks.

  ‘Lathri? What…what is wrong?’

  ‘Palom, I’ve done as much as I can for you. There’s nothing else I can do. Physical wounds heal, but you’ve a darkness in you that you have got to address.’ She rested her hand on his chest. ‘It’s in here. It’s eating you. And that sword is the catalyst!’

  ‘No, no. I listened to you! I went to Sol. I saw Manilo. He was happy. I have realised I have missed out on so many things.’

  ‘There’s more to it than facing your past.’ She wiped away her tears. ‘It’s the first step. But you have to stop dwelling on your failures when the real war is all around us and building! I’m dealing with a plague in Taban Yul unlike anything that’s gone before! Sapora is releasing criminals and Isa is lost in it all.’

  Palom took her hands in his. ‘Then run away, Lathri. Run with me. We will find safe place away from all this sickness and despair. It’s not your job to fight these battles.’

  Lathri pulled her hands away from him. ‘I’m not running away from my country’s problems! I’m staying to fight! You’re a tiger! Why aren’t you acting like one?’

  ‘I was tiger last night!’ He said, raising his voice. ‘Against Mateli, I held him off. Drove him back. He will not be attacking Sol now, because of me!’

  ‘He wouldn’t be anywhere near Sol if you hadn’t run away from the capital!’ Lathri yelled back, her emotions fuelling her anger.

  ‘So, it is okay if Mateli is in Taban Yul? Attacking you? Attacking your comrades?’

  ‘All of my allies and you? Together, Mateli wouldn’t dream of attacking! You’ve come out here, to the middle of nowhere, alone. You’re vulnerable! He knows that! Sapora knows that!’