Death and Resurrection (The Ballad of Broken Song Book 1)

by Simon Birks

  “Try and stop,” the Ra shouted at Fijefel, but he was already being pulled away on the current.

  Sogal was on Pinto’s side. He dug his claws in as it wobbled precariously on the water.

  “Hang on,” he said to the dog. Over to his right, there was a thick set of reeds, so he tipped his body slightly, kicked his legs, and the raft altered direction.

  They hit the reeds at speed. The raft tipped and Sogal jumped, his harness snapping. Pinto had to let go, and grabbed the nearest plants. They seemed to hold him for a moment, and in that moment he looked to where Fijefel’s part of the raft was rapidly disappearing.

  He was about to shout after him again when he felt his body begin to sink. The reeds weren’t substantial enough to hold him, yet they were too thick to swim in. He felt himself going under, and was panicked by the suddenness with which everything had changed. The water was up and over his mouth, whilst his arms flailed uselessly.

  I don’t want to die.

  There was a pain in his arm. Several points of pain, in fact, and Pinto looked up to see Sogal’s jaws clamped around it. The dog was pulling him back, or at least trying to. Pinto reached forward with his free hand and grabbed some plants closer to the shore. Ignoring the pain caused by Sogal’s teeth, he pulled himself closer. The dog took a step back. Under his feet, Pinto felt ground and pushed upwards. Suddenly he was out of the water, clear of the reeds, and lay panting on the bank.

  Pinto swung onto his front and looked out in the direction that Fijefel had been travelling, but there was nothing there. His friend had disappeared.

  Revenge

  Fijefel clung onto the raft. Since he’d lost touch with the God, it’d picked up even more speed. He tried to use his body to guide it, but against the fierce flow of the river, it had little effect. He concentrated on staying afloat; with the constant barrage of water hitting his face it was nearly impossible to see where he was headed.

  Eventually he caught a glimpse. Up ahead, a lip, over which he assumed the water tumbled, but what was at the bottom? If there were rocks he wouldn’t make it, he knew. If there was just water, then he had a chance. Fijefel hoped Pinto was safe. Then he closed his eyes and hoped the same for himself.

  Not for the first time in the last few days, Fijefel felt himself launched into the air. He opened his eyes and looked down. At first he was confused. At first he thought he was looking up at the sky instead of down at the floor. It was so blue. He searched for the sun, but it was nowhere to be seen. Fijefel focused with everything he had, and saw ripples emerge in the blue; it was the sky being reflected. He wanted to feel relief. It should have been water, but something about the colour of it bothered him. It was unlike any water he’d ever seen before.

  In the few seconds he had before he hit the surface, he saw movement. Some creatures far below had turned towards him, and were swarming in his direction. A dull part of him thought perhaps that was a good thing. Perhaps they thought he was going to survive.

  Fijefel hit the water. He had let go of the raft, and now used his arms to cover his face. There were no sharp pains in his legs; it was deep enough to swim. When it felt like he’d stopped sinking, he began to kick upwards with his legs. Once, twice, three times. He was going up. He could feel the sunlight on his face. He’d have loved to see where he was going, but was worried about opening his eyes. Worried what the water might do to them.

  What if you’re going in the wrong direction?

  If he was, then it wouldn’t matter about his eyes. Still he kicked and still he swam up. Where was the surface? The guard was beginning to feel light-headed. He had to see where he was going.

  Fijefel opened one eye and squinted upwards. There was light, and closer than he thought it’d be, too. He kicked his legs with renewed vigour, and used his arms to help him.

  His eye began to sting. He could have closed it then, to stem any damage that was being caused, but he still needed it to see where he was going. He didn’t trust himself not to change direction.

  A few seconds later, his view started to darken. A big, uncomfortable tightness appeared in Fijefel’s stomach. This is it, he thought, this is the last time I’ll see anything through this eye. He felt frightened. It just wasn’t fair.

  He broke the surface of the pool, gasping. He trod water to steady himself. There were voices nearby. They sounded angry, but he couldn’t see them. He still held his right eye closed, but his left eye saw nothing but darkness.

  Fijefel wanted to scream, but knew better. He was angry at his loss of sight. It had been brought on by his own people, no less, who’d wanted him dead for their own selfish reasons. He wanted revenge, feeling its heat surging through his veins, tensing his muscles. He didn’t want them to get away with this injustice.

  Now was not the time, however, so he swallowed all of this emotion. It was a strange sensation. He focused his rage into the unvoiced scream in his mouth, and then swallowed it. He could use his rage later.

  The voices had grown louder around him. The creatures were close. Fijefel opened his right eye, hoping it still worked. Light flooded in; bright light and relief. Now he just needed to keep his head above the surface.

  He looked up in the direction of the voices. The creatures he’d seen on his way down were now closer, holding things in their hands that looked dangerous enough for him to obey whatever it was they wanted him to do. By the look of things, they wanted him to get out of the pool.

  Fijefel looked towards the shore, closed his right eye once more, and started to swim.

  *

  Sogal and Pinto lay low in the grass. Pinto had been expecting someone to come and investigate, but no one had arrived. Maybe they were helping Fijefel.

  The warrior looked back from where they’d come. There wasn’t any darkness. True, he had travelled some way down the river, but the Shroud should still have been visible from where he was.

  “This is strange,” he said to the dog.

  Sogal sat down. The animal looked hungry.

  “We’re going to need to find some food, and water,” Pinto said to the dog. “And then… and then we’re going to have to find a way to get Fijefel back.”

  Sogal wagged his tail.

  *

  Whoever these creatures were, they weren’t Fijefel’s friends. They had pulled him from the water using long poles with leashes on the ends, and dumped him on the grass. Then they had pushed and prodded him onto his feet, bound his hands with a type of restraint he’d never seen before, and shoved him forwards.

  It was only after he’d taken a few steps that he realised there was something different about the air. It was… sweeter. As if someone had mixed it with honey. His stomach dipped. This wasn’t his home; it wasn’t even his Orb.

  Fijefel looked up, and was lost for words.

  Lacquishan

  Aponser and Ja Jenza had walked north-west all day, heading in a straight line, but had found nothing but fields and small streams on the way. The streams were freshwater, which quenched their thirst, and for food, there was the odd tree with ripening fruit, and Aponser’s impressive hunting skills. Ja Jenza didn’t know how she did it, but the old woman returned with three hares at middle-meal. They had skinned and cooked them all, eating one, and packing the other two.

  The old woman didn’t say much. Neither did Ja Jenza. When there was a goal in mind, words were only needed if you deviated. Now, as they sat around a small fire, Aponser spoke.

  “He said something to you, didn’t he?”

  “Yes.” said Ja Jenza, feeling no need to lie.

  “And that’s why we’re going this way?”

  “Yes.”

  The fire crackled.

  “Can you tell me what it is we’re looking for?”

  “I’d rather not,” Ja Jenza said.

  Aponser smiled.

  “I understand,” she said. “I’m not sure I’d tell you, either.”

  Ja Jenza looked towards the Orbs.

  “Thank you again for
the food,” she said.

  “We need to eat. Plus, I can use the bones.”

  “For magic?”

  “For soup!” Aponser said, “Which, if you do it right, is pretty much the same.”

  The atmosphere relaxed. The Ja wondered whether it was just another tactic from Aponser. If it was, she was happy to play along.

  “I’m sorry your father died,” the Ja said.

  Aponser snorted.

  “He was the only parent I knew. By the time I was old enough to talk, I realised my mother wasn’t interested in me. She was a Harvester. She tricked my father into making her pregnant, with the view of using me to live.”

  “So they brought you up? The Harvesters.”

  “They don’t really operate that way. They gave me what I needed to grow. Anything else would have been a waste for them.”

  “How come you survived?”

  “I played dumb. Pretended I didn’t know how to speak or read or write. I didn’t say a thing to them. They thought I was stupid. It made them let their guard down.”

  “Why didn’t they just kill you?”

  “Because the Harvesters don’t kill anyone. There wouldn’t be any point in that. All the time you’re alive they can use you. But by playing dumb, they were less interested. They’d leave me alone for long periods.”

  “And?”

  “Well, in the end, I escaped, but that’s a story for another time.”

  Aponser stretched out on the floor.

  “Sometimes, I think I was never supposed to live this long,” she said. “Sometimes, I think I’ve cheated death, or things worse than death. I feel guilty. I feel, perhaps, my time alive has robbed other people of their existence.”

  Jenza said nothing. Nothing needed to be said.

  Aponser gazed levelly at Jenza.

  “You don’t trust me, and I don’t trust you. In many ways at least we know it of each other. Unlike all those friendships and partnerships that are built on nothing but whispers of sand.”

  The Ja felt tired, but she wasn’t going to lie down, not yet.

  “Have you ever seen the sea?” Aponser asked.

  “No,” Ja Jenza said. “Never.”

  “I’ve heard many sailors tell of islands appearing out of the sea. Stretches of land like crescent moons. The work of magic, some say.”

  “I’ve not heard of those.”

  “There’s so much of this world we do not know, Ja Jenza. I hope, in time, we will learn some more together.”

  Then, without warning, Aponser shut her eyes and said no more that night.

  *

  The woman who knew Ja Jenza as Werida walked out of the darkness. The Ja was still awake, though Aponser had been sleeping for over an hour.

  Ja Jenza wasn’t surprised to see her. Her hands had started to vibrate moments before.

  “Werida,” the cloaked woman said.

  “Are you really here?” the Ja asked.

  “What do you think?”

  “I think… you have problems answering direct questions. What do you want of me?”

  “A little of your time,” the cloaked woman said.

  “All right,” Jenza replied. “But in return I ask one thing.”

  “You wish to know my real name?”

  Jenza nodded. “Yes.”

  “My name is Lacquishan.”

  “And why are you here?”

  “I am here to warn you. The battle you saw from the balcony. It is coming.”

  “Then you should do something about it. Why keep turning up and bothering me?”

  Lacquishan sat opposite Ja Jenza.

  “Because if I tried to interfere, I would be killed, instantly. This war is not with me. It is with you. It is part of you.”

  “Well, there’s not much I can do about it.”

  “You can help to stop it before it starts.”

  “I have my own journey.”

  “It is not the right one,” said Lacquishan.

  “And by that, you mean it’s not the one you want me to be on?”

  “You are going in the wrong direction, Werida. This is the path to destruction. People need you. People in Langeph.”

  “I’m not ready to return to Langeph.”

  Lacquishan stood, adjusted her cloak.

  “There are more people involved in this than you, you know? What you’re doing is putting them all in jeopardy.”

  “Then perhaps you should be talking to them,” Ja Jenza said.

  The cloaked woman didn’t reply. She stood, turned, and within moments had been swallowed by the night.

  Air-Spies

  Pinto thought about eating the berries on the bush he and Sogal had found. They had been walking for an hour or so since climbing out of the water, and this was the first food they’d seen. The berries looked good; large, juicy and purple. Sogal had looked up at him with big eyes, as if to ask, “Are they safe?”

  Pinto shook his head.

  “No. We better keep them until we’re really desperate.”

  Sogal stopped and sniffed. Pinto followed suit, but couldn’t smell anything particularly different. It was hard to make out smells over the strangeness of the air he now breathed.

  Once again, Sogal looked at Pinto, and this time the man nodded.

  “Yes, follow it. But not too quickly.”

  Sogal’s tail wagged once, and he trotted off a few paces, stopped and turned to look at Pinto. The man smiled.

  “Impatient, eh?” Pinto said. “Me, too.”

  They had lost sight of the strange building he and Fijefel had seen when the Shroud had vanished. The dog moved at a manageable pace, as wary of their new surroundings as he was. It must have been strange for Sogal, he had even less understanding of what was happening, but he just kept on going, whatever you threw at him. It was admirable, and the man felt a sudden surge of pride for his four-legged companion.

  They travelled like this for ten minutes more, moving through trees the like of which Pinto had never seen before. Like the building, something didn’t seem quite right, but he didn’t have the time to stop and figure out what it was.

  Then Pinto thought he could smell something. Smoke, sweetly-fragranced smoke. Pinto stopped, and so did Sogal. The dog looked at Pinto again.

  “Slowly,” the man whispered.

  Sogal and Pinto crept forward.

  There was a crackle and a pop. Noises of a fire, and the aroma grew stronger. Pinto crouched down by the dog and peered. Beyond the trees stood a tented structure, not much bigger than his house had been at Broken Song. The fire was set in front of it, the smoke surprisingly thick as it left the pile of wood. Someone was there, sitting in the entrance, obscured by the smoke.

  Pinto waited. Sogal waited.

  The figure stood, walked forward. Then it went around the fire. It was a woman; a blind woman, of no more than sixty. She was dressed in layers of cloth.

  “I am not a witch,” she said. “I cannot see you. But the smoke mixes with your scent and allows me to know you are there. You… and your dog. Oh, and the berries you picked, too. Well done for not eating them. You don’t have to speak. It’s all right. I will be at my tent. I’d appreciate it if you’re here to rob me, just take my things and go. The waters robbed me of my sight many years ago, but at least I still have my life to ponder.”

  Sogal stood. Pinto stood.

  “Hello,” the man said. “I am Pinto. The dog’s name is Sogal.”

  The blind woman smiled.

  “It’s nice to meet you. You have a kind voice. Doesn’t mean you’re kind, but it makes it easier to listen to you. I expect you’re hungry?”

  “Very,” Pinto said. “Sogal, too. I will go without if there’s not enough for both of us.”

  “That will not be a problem. Come.”

  The old woman turned and made her way back to the tent. Sogal followed her, interested and eager, and Pinto followed him.

  “You move your house around?” Pinto asked the lady.

  �
��I do. They don’t much care to look this far out, but every now and then I hear one of their air-spies nearby, and it’s time to go.”

  “Air-spies?” Pinto said.

  “Indeed,” the blind woman said. “Tell me, if you care to, did you come through the Darkness?”

  “Yes, I did. With my friend and Sogal.”

  The old woman’s face dropped slightly.

  “Where is your friend?”

  “I lost him in the water. Our raft broke apart, and they… well I don’t know where he went.”

  She sighed, and put a hand to her forehead.

  “Oh, dear,” she said.

  “What?”

  “I fear your friend may have ended up in the same waters that did this to my eyes.”

  “Oh. Is there any chance…” Pinto said, then faltered.

  The old woman put a hand on his arm.

  “There’s always a chance,” she said. “That’s one of the things life has taught me. Now, let me cook you some food.”

  Cages

  Fijefel thought they might be taking him to the metal tower he’d seen when they’d come through the Shroud, but they stopped short, and for that he was happy. They led him through doors of metal poles, which housed other people behind them, like cages. Fijefel tried to catch their eyes as he passed, but no one looked his way. Every so often, he heard someone moan or wail, which made his blood run cold.

  Then they reached an open door, where they stopped and guided Fijefel in. This was not like the other rooms. The walls were solid stone, and the door thick metal. He couldn’t see out. The door shut behind him, and he was trapped in the room alone.

  He waited for whatever was next. He shut his right eye and the world went black. He opened it again and the beautiful light returned. Fijefel lay on the bed against the wall, and closed both eyes. If he was to be imprisoned, he might as well catch up on some much needed rest.

  Before sleep took him, and he entered his dreams of complete blindness, he thought of Pinto. He hoped the God was safe. He hoped the God would remember him. He hoped the God would…