The Sky Warden & the Sun (Books of the Change)
Page 28
“No. Everything most certainly is not.”
The mage swept out of the room and closed the door behind him. They listened to his footsteps recede down the hallway. When they were gone, Skender was instantly onto Sal.
“What’s going on? What happened? What did we miss? Tell us!”
Sal considered refusing but knew he would have to endure the boy’s nagging all night if he didn’t. He gave them an abbreviated version of what had happened during his meeting with Radi Mierlo and Behenna. He didn’t mention Shilly or what Skender’s father had told him. Skender sat raptly through it, eyes wide, and seemed to pick up more than Sal had intended to say. When the story was over, Raf and Amahl expressed their indignation by promising to do anything Sal needed to help him get back at his grandmother for betraying him like that. But Skender didn’t join in. He just sat on the bed with Sal for a long while.
“Maybe it’s a misunderstanding,” he finally said. “Behenna got to her first, so she sees his side of the story. When you talk to her again, I’m sure you’ll be able to convince her that she’s made a mistake, and that going back to the Strand would only make things worse.”
Sal nodded, knowing that this was exactly what he wanted to hear. His grandmother wasn’t selfish and manipulative; he wouldn’t be forced to go somewhere he didn’t want to; he could stay at the Keep with Shilly and forget all about his mother’s family; Behenna would be sent home empty-handed, and that would be the end of it.
But he wasn’t stupid. It would never be that easy. This wasn’t a situation he could wriggle out of with a few well chosen words. In order to escape the Sky Wardens once and for all, he would have to think of another way to thwart them — something cleverer than just running away. Something he could do on his own, without anyone’s help.
Without Shilly. She had turned away from him at the Keep and again when Behenna appeared. If she thought their deal was over, so be it. He had gone most of his life without friends to rely on, and he could do it again if he had to.
“Thanks, Skender,” he said. “I hope you’re right. But right now, all I really want to do is get some sleep.”
“Of course. Tomorrow will be better. You’ll see.” Skender and the others turned down the lamp to let him rest. In silence, they undressed and got into their own bunks. The only sounds came from the creaking of the house around them and the faint sounds of traffic from the street outside.
The scraps of the Mage Van Haasteren’s dinner in his belly did nothing to quell an ache that came from a different part of him entirely.
Alone, Sal slid under the covers and thought for his life.
Chapter 13
Iron and Glass
Shilly woke the next morning to hear her two bunkmates discussing Tait. Behenna’s journeyman had joined them in the dining room after Sal had been taken away, not to eat but to ensure that the Sky Warden he served was being looked after.
“His hair, his eyes —”
“Are you kidding? I can’t get past his skin. It’s so black!”
“But that’s the best bit. It’s so soft looking. He looks like he’s made of chocolate.”
“Now I know you’re kidding.” The young women laughed softly. “You don’t really think he’s cute, do you?”
“The competition pales in comparison, Chema. Literally.” That meant it was Vita talking, the local girl who had waited at the table the previous night and who had shared the room with the two visitors afterward. “He just looks so ... different.”
“Well, there’s no accounting for taste. I’ll settle for picking his brains, thanks. The places he’s been, the things he’s seen ...”
Shilly stirred. “Don’t let him fool you,” she muttered, opening her eyes a crack. “He’s no genius.”
Vita laughed again. “I can live with that, for long enough.”
“Of course,” said Chema, moving onto Shilly’s bed. “You come from the same place as him — that village, whatever it’s called. It must be weird seeing him here.”
Shilly didn’t answer at first. It was strange, yes, to bump into someone she’d known most of her life so far away from their home, just when she’d given up all thoughts of seeing anything like home again.
But that wasn’t what she was feeling. She had grown up with him around. She knew his face as well as anyone’s from Fundelry. His narrow, handsome features and his dense mat of black hair; even though he had been at the Haunted City, training with the Sky Wardens for over three years, his voice was exactly the same as she remembered.
“Good weird,” she said, wishing she could just go back to sleep. Whatever she felt, she wasn’t interested in sharing it with perfect strangers.
“Told you,” said Vita, punching her new friend lightly on the arm. “He is cute. If only Mr Gourlay was going with you to the Nine Stars —”
“Well, you two can fight over him until then,” Chema said. “I’m not interested. There are plenty of ordinary boys like Raf around to keep me busy.”
The conversation shifted to whether or not Chema’s redheaded fellow student was more interested in her or Bethe, the student overseer, and Shilly let her attention wander. Judging by the pale light creeping through the dormitory’s sole narrow window, the day was only just dawning on the world far above the underground city. She’d never been an early riser, and missed the days with Lodo, when she could sleep in. As long as she’d finished her chores before bed each night, the old man had let her organise her own daily schedule.
The memory of him brought tears to her eyes. She fought them down, not wanting to face the interrogation of the other girls. The memory of what the golem had told her was still too painful to talk about. That he could be adrift in some terrible Void, unable to call for help while his body lay helpless, made her angry and upset. She wished there was something she could do to find him, but she didn’t even know where his body was, let alone the rest of him.
There was a knock at the door and Melantha, the steward, stuck her head through. “Vita. Help me with breakfast, please.” To Chema and Shilly she added: “The mage is up and asking for you two. I think he intends leaving early.”
The steward backed out and shut the door. Chema offered to help her dress, but Shilly said no. She forced herself out of bed and into her clothes. Her leg complained at being moved and the rest of her joined in. She could have stayed in that warm, soft bed all day, given the chance. Negotiating two flights of stairs with her crutches didn’t make her mood any better. Only when she reached the dining room and saw the generous spread waiting for them did she begin to feel like being awake. There were bowls of eggs, porridge, crispy-fried bacon, mushrooms and fruit. Not a spice stronger than pepper to be seen. Her mouth watered at the sight and smell of it.
Chema loaded up a plate and followed the sound of voices into the next room. Shilly juggled a bowl and a serving spoon and her crutches, all at the same time, not having much success with any of them.
“Can I help you with that, Shilly?” asked a voice from behind her.
She looked up with a mixture of embarrassment and relief. It was Tait, dressed in a less elegant version of his warden’s blue robes. He had no torc around his neck, just a simple necklace of glass beads. “Thanks.”
He took the plate from her. “What are you after?”
“Some toast and eggs.”
Tait served her what she asked for. “What about a drink while I’m here? They have freshly squeezed orange juice, or coffee.”
“Just water. Thanks again.”
He poured her a glass. “We didn’t get a chance to talk last night,” he said. “I wanted to say how good it is to see a familiar face here.”
She shrugged awkwardly, afraid to admit to the same feeling. It was better to seem worldly-wise. After all, they were both well travelled now. “You were probably the last person I expected to see.”
“Yes, we
ll. Who’d have thought either of us would get this far?” His smile was warm and open. “I’m just glad you’re doing okay.”
“Apart from this.” She swung her leg like the dead weight it was.
“You’re on the mend, anyway. Come on. You look like you could eat a camel.”
He indicated the door, and she crutched through it. Everyone except Sal was seated around a very long table, and her hosts welcomed her to breakfast when she appeared. Even the mage nodded politely as she took a seat on the opposite side of the table. Tait put her plate and glass in front of her, then took his own seat not far away. Vita nudged her as she went past with a load of dirty dishes, and Chema rolled her eyes.
“I was just saying,” said Radi Mierlo at one end of the table, opposite Manton Gourlay, their nominal host, “that I’m looking forward to seeing the Nine Stars. It’s somewhere you hear about all the time, but never visit. I don’t know why the Advisory Synod conducts their meetings so far away from everywhere. They make it very hard for the ordinary person to be part of the decision-making process.”
“We have elections,” said Skender, through a mouthful of bacon. His hair was standing on end at the back, and his father tried in vain to pat it down.
“Yes, but to be part of the discussion, to see the faces of the Judges as they consider their decisions, to have the opportunity to speak...” Her face was alive with the thought of it, reflecting an internal vision that probably, Shilly thought, had no bearing on what the reality would be like. “That would be a supreme moment.”
“It’s a long and difficult journey,” said the mage.
“It can’t be that bad. Some of the members of the Synod are very old, and they make it there every month.”
“They are there, yes, but there are ways to make the journey easier.” The mage considered his words carefully. “Ways we will not have access to. We can only take the road.”
“And it is a long and difficult one — yes, you said.” Radi Mierlo was clearly enjoying the verbal sparring. “We’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other then.”
“Great,” said Skender, rolling his eyes. “That should be fun.”
“Who says you’re going?” asked Raf, always ready to provoke the boy. “I’ve a crate for you back at the Keep, strong enough to keep you in until your dad gets back.”
“I have to come!” Skender exclaimed. “Dad. You can’t really be thinking of —”
“I’m not, son,” said the mage. “You can come along, if you behave.”
Skender whooped with joy, and Raf looked surprised and more than a little disappointed.
“Really?” he asked.
“Really,” said the mage, with a resigned look. “It’s time Skender saw where his future lies. And I know most of my colleagues are eager to see how the latest Van Haasteren has turned out.”
Shilly concentrated on her food while talk rolled around her. She hated morning people, and Sal’s grandmother was most definitely one of them, directing conversation with a firm, occasionally unsubtle, hand. Shilly wondered how Manton Gourlay put up with her, and supposed that this was one reason why people in the Interior didn’t like her or her family. Luckily for Sal, he had inherited none of her arrogance. Shilly doubted she could have stood more than a day on the road with him otherwise.
“Where is Sal?” she asked, the thought of him making her wonder, and the fleeting, irritated look on his grandmother’s face made speaking up worthwhile.
“Upstairs,” said Shom Behenna. “He’ll come down when he’s ready, I’m sure.”
“We’re going to see the Mage Erentaite after breakfast,” said Van Haasteren, “to discuss the Synod’s intentions. Sal has assured me that he will attend.”
“Not much point going without him,” said Skender, still flushed at the thought of the journey.
“Indeed,” said Shom Behenna. “Or Shilly.”
“Of course. What about you, dear?” Radi Mierlo asked the question lightly while she stirred a glass of a potent-smelling hot beverage. “No one’s asked you what you think about going to the Nine Stars.”
Exactly, she thought. I’m just dead wood. But she didn’t say that. “I didn’t know I’d be going.”
“I’m sure they’ll need you to testify.”
“Well, I don’t really know what to expect, so I don’t know how I think about it.”
“What about going home, then?” There was a glint in Sal’s grandmother’s eye. “How would you feel about that, if you had the chance?”
Shilly felt like she’d been led into a trap. Everyone’s eyes were suddenly on her as though her answer was critically important. She couldn’t understand why it should be. Wasn’t it obvious that she missed her home? At the same time, though, she had worked very hard to find herself a teacher of the Change, and she wouldn’t throw that away in a hurry.
Besides, she thought, who said she would go with Sal, if he was sent away? It was him they wanted not her.
“I’ve been there, you know,” said a soft voice from the far end of the table. Manton Gourlay had uttered his first words of the morning. Everyone who had previously been watching her leaned closer to hear what he had to say.
“Where have you been?” Radi Mierlo prompted.
“The Strand,” he said. “Went there on a delegation with Mage Seto. Remember him? Complete fool, but knew how to drum up patrons when he had to.”
“And what did you think?” asked Shom Behenna. “Of the Strand, I mean.”
“It’s a wonderful place. Well worth the effort. Wouldn’t want to live there, though. Too soft. Too much water. Life’s too easy. Give me sand and the sun over a sea breeze any day. And fish?” He pulled a face. “But the Haunted City is interesting. Never understood how the place managed to look so beautiful yet so ugly at the same time ...”
The memory overwhelmed him and he trailed off into silence. For a moment no one spoke. The thin, wasted man stared vacantly into space, saying nothing at all — yet still commanding more genuine interest than the woman at the opposite end of the table.
“Well,” said Radi Mierlo. “Thank you, Manton, for sharing that with us. It has certainly brought back memories of my own. I must tell you about a wonderful restaurant on the Laudato Promenade, where we used to meet the Grey Wardens of the Novitiate for dinner. Do you know them, Warden Behenna? They were very influential in my time.”
And she was off again, tugging the reins and cracking the whip over the conversation until she had broken its spirit. Shilly watched Manton Gourlay retreat back into his shell and felt sorry for him. She didn’t doubt that Radi Mierlo was bleeding him as dry as she wanted to bleed Sal.
Her thoughts must have shown on her face, for Tait caught her eye and shrugged meaningfully. She smiled back, and he toasted her with his glass of juice.
Shilly returned her attention to her meal, hating the warm flush rising up her neck and into her cheeks. She didn’t hear what Sal’s grandmother had to say after that, and she didn’t much care, either.
The meeting with the Mage Erentaite took place in a large, temple-like structure on the far side of the city. A motorised vehicle was waiting for them when they stepped out of the house. The driver handed the wheel to Manton Gourlay, who explained that he had bought the bus in a distant, lawless town called Mayr and occasionally enjoyed taking it for a drive. It was easily large enough for the entire party, comprising the Sky Warden and his assistant, the Stone Mage and his entourage, Shilly, and Sal, and Radi Mierlo.
Sal emerged as promised at the last minute, looking tired and small but determined, like an animal wrapped defensively around itself. He said nothing, just walked out of the door as soon as it opened and headed out to the bus. He appeared to have slept in his clothes. Although Shilly sat near him in the vehicle, he said as little to her as he did to anyone, giving nothing freely. His attention was drawn tightly inward —
but at the same time he was aware of everything around him. Shilly could practically hear his mind ticking over, analysing everything, thinking every action through.
He was up to something, she thought. Once she might have tried to get him to tell her, but things had changed. There were too many people around, for one, and she had learned at the Keep just how good he was at keeping secrets from her. She was still angry that he had taken some of the credit away from Sky Warden Behenna for saving her.
“Did you sleep well, my dear?” his grandmother asked him when they were settled in their seats and Gourlay pulled smoothly away from the curb.
“I slept enough, thank you,” he said, with equal measures of distance and politeness.
“I’m sorry you missed breakfast.” Radi Mierlo radiated nothing but concern. “If you’re hungry, we can —”
“I’m not hungry,” he interrupted her, his eyes flicking for a split second to the Mage Van Haasteren, “but thank you. Again.”
She pulled back with a slightly pained expression, and Shilly wondered how deep the socialite facade went and where the real woman began. Was she really hurt that Sal had rejected her, or just bothered that Sal wouldn’t cooperate in her grand scheme? Shilly couldn’t decide which.
She tried to catch his eye but he wouldn’t look at her. Feeling hurt, she retreated into her seat and folded her arms. Had Skender told him about the Taking? She doubted it, but could think of no other reason for him to be so cold to her. She hadn’t done anything to him. It was the other way around, if anything: it was he, after all, who had considered leaving her behind while he went gallivanting after his family. It served him right, she thought, whatever happened.
The bus bounced and rattled through the streets, adding more smoke to the miasma that already filled the city. Shilly was glad when they arrived. Skender’s father had described the place where the elderly mage awaited them as a communal hall for philosophers and physicians. The Grand Minster, as he called it, looked like nothing so much as a giant, up-turned flowerpot with ornamental spires added as an afterthought. Four wide archways led into the interior, a maze of halls and corridors, many of them open to the “sky” above. The air was thick with incense; brands burned at every corner, barely making up for the smoke they issued by giving a little extra light.