Lands of Nowhere

by Shannah Jay

  Quinna showed the kit her empty hand, which was greeted by a whine of disappointment. 'Well, girl,' she said as she stood up, 'I think that name's a bit of a mouthful, don't you? How about we shorten it to Nim?'

  And so the kit was named.

  Herra and Cheral had exchanged startled glances as Katia spoke confidently about the kit's name. Did Katia not realise how strange the bonding was that had taken place between her and the kit?

  'There's never been any mind-sharing recorded between humans and animals,' Cheral said softly. 'I'm quite sure of that. But Katia does seem able to communicate with other species more easily than the rest of us.

  Look at the way she talks to deleff. I've always had an interest in mind-sharing, though it's not one of my Gifts. I studied it in the Archives when I was younger and thought how much easier life would be if everyone could truly understand one another.'

  'I'm not sure we're ready to share our thoughts,' said Herra. 'Too many of us still have violence in our souls.'

  'Well, perhaps one day it’ll happen,' Cheral insisted. 'In the meantime, this seems to be a new Gift and I shall study it carefully.'

  By the third day, Nim was again moving with the sure-footedness of her kind and an enforced bath in the still-welling waters of the new spring had restored her matted coat to fluffiness. Early in the morning she vanished for a while, then returned with a rock rat dangling from her jaws. Katia swallowed her instinctive nausea and looked away. While she recognised the need for animals to hunt and eat each other, she hated to see it happening.

  Nim stopped a few paces away from her, then, as if sensing Katia's discomfort, changed course and trotted over to eat her breakfast next to Quinna, whom she was starting to favour with her company more than the others when Katia was busy.

  'Good girl!' said Quinna softly. 'You need to learn to look after yourself. Can't beat it.' She ruffled the kit's head and it butted her hand when she stopped, as if to tell her to go on. 'Hey, Katia! What'll we do with her when she's fully grown?' she bellowed across the little camp site.

  They all stared at the thigh-high kit, remembering how large the adult cliff cats had been.

  'Perhaps we can leave her here, now that she's recovered?' suggested Cheral.

  Katia shook her head. 'The other cliff cats would probably turn on her if she returned to the group smelling of their enemies.' She turned to Herra. 'I can't leave her here alone! Surely we can take her with us?'

  'And what if I said no?'

  Katia's lips compressed into a straight line. 'Then I'd have to convince you that you were wrong, Elder Sister,' she declared. For a moment, Herra caught a glimpse of the woman of authority Katia would one day become and her soul rejoiced. We move on in many ways, Brother mine, she thought, and could have sworn she felt a hand press her shoulder briefly. It must be the Enhancement, for increasingly she felt a sense of communion with something beyond their senses, something or someone just out of sight, but still with them.

  Jonner yawned. 'What's all the fuss about? If Nim can hunt for herself, she'll be no trouble to us. I don't mind having her around to guard us. Traders sometimes travel with animal companions, you know. And if we can teach her a few tricks, she'll not only keep thieves away, but she'll be an attraction when we're trading, especially in the villages.' He stared at Nim and added thoughtfully, 'Even in the cities. I've never seen a tame cliff cat before, and I've been to every city in every claim. People will flock to see her, then they'll stay to buy our goods.'

  'Always supposing we can get ourselves another trading rig and deleff to pull it,' said Cheral tartly.

  'Oh, no!' Jonner groaned and thumped the heel of his hand against his forehead. 'I'd forgotten about that.

  And nobody would trust a trader who didn't have deleff pulling his wagon. I'm a ruined man! Ruined!'

  'For a ruined man you just ate a lot of breakfast,' remarked Benjan, 'so you'll probably survive another day or so.'

  Herra intervened hastily, before the bickering could start again. 'We'll worry about that turning in the path when we come to it, Jonner. Maybe the deleff will change their minds and still pull our wagons. You never know with deleff. For the moment, I'm just relieved that you don't think Nim will be a drawback when we return to the Twelve Claims.'

  'No.' Jonner looked at the kit through narrowed eyes. 'She's going to be a big girl, though, isn't she? I mean, those others we fought off were huge.' His face brightened. 'She'll probably be a real good help in a fight, too, once she's fully grown. I vote we keep her.'

  Katia raised her eyebrows at Herra.

  Herra chuckled. 'There we are, then, my friends. We not only save our world, we tame animals no one has ever seen before.'

  A ripple of laughter ran round the circle.

  The next day, the group left the top of Drymouth Ridge, though that name was now a misnomer, for the pure water continued to well from the crevice and pour down the rock face, and from the edge of the escarpment, the sparkle of its waters could be seen winding in a clear trail down into South Vale.

  And how a spring could well up on top of a cliff, Jonner thought, as they made their way towards Three Shadows Pass, was more than anyone could guess. But who knew what to expect in this strange place. It truly was the Lands of Nowhere, just like in the children's stories.

  * * *

  As the group of Kindred came down through the lower reaches of Three Shadow Pass into cool green forest country, Katia, who had been a little languid in the days following her exertions, grew visibly more energetic.

  'Can't you smell the resin trees?' she murmured happily.

  Quinna didn’t share her pleasure. 'Damned if I like this sort of terrain,' she grumbled, hefting Erlic's sling to her left hip, to give her sword hand more freedom. 'Can't see more'n a short distance in any direction, with all those trees. We could be attacked any minute.'

  'I'd know if someone were likely to attack us,' said Herra serenely. 'Hostility has a louder signal than anything else. Katia, shall we stop for a while? I'm getting hungry.'

  'Getting hungry!' muttered Jonner. 'My stomach's developed a permanent echo.'

  Katia, who had moved instinctively to take the lead once they reached wooded country, looked back, smiling. 'Let me go and find a stream. I think we could all do with a wash, as well as a drink of cool fresh water.' She reached out a hand to touch a particularly large tree that dominated this part of the high forest, and sighed with pleasure as she passed it. It wasn’t exactly like the High Alder here, but it was the nearest thing she’d seen since she had been chosen at the age of fourteen. She still missed her home and her grandfather, Kensin. She still dreamed of the familiar crags and lakes around Danak, the town of her birth in the High Alder.

  Frowning, she raised her head and sniffed the breeze, realising what else had made her feel so nostalgic. 'I think I can smell woodsmoke, Herra.'

  The whole group suddenly became alert.

  'Far away?'

  'A few minutes' walk, that's all.'

  'Whoever it is must have sentries posted,' worried Quinna. 'They could be watching us right now, for all we know.' She glanced around with narrowed eyes, but could see nothing except trees. 'Damned undergrowth!'

  she muttered. 'Here, Jonner, take Erlic for me. I want to be ready, in case we're attacked.'

  Herra moved lightly forward to join Katia. After a minute or two, she raised one hand and everyone paused. 'It's not a group,' she said after a minute. 'Only one person, I think. And not hostile.'

  'Let me go and check.' Benjan moved forward,

  Katia shook her head. 'No, let me. You still move too noisily, Benjan, though not as noisily as my Davred.'

  Her husband pulled a face at her. He considered that he was making excellent progress in moving quietly, for someone who had never even been in a wood until he came down to Sunrise, but Katia often chuckled at his attempts.

  Not waiting for an answer, Katia handed Alaran to Herra and slipped away through the trees like a shadow herself. Th
e clothing they had acquired in Quedras's camp was perfect for travelling through woodland terrain and she moved swiftly.

  She soon came to the source of the smoke, a crackling camp fire, with a metal tripod over it supporting a large cauldron. Something was bubbling away in it, something that smelled delicious.

  As she stood watching from the cover of some bushes, a voice behind her said softly, 'You're very trusting, stranger. Don't you watch your back in unknown territory?'

  Katia whirled round to find an old man leaning against a tree, grinning at her, his hands raised to show they were empty of weapons.

  'I sensed no danger, no hostility,' she replied quietly. 'Should I not trust you, then?'

  The grin broadened. 'Aye, lass, you can trust me not to hurt you. I harm no one who respects my woods.

  You've obviously spent a lot of time in woodland. You don't move like a townie.'

  'I wasn't brought up in towns,' she admitted, puzzled by him. What was he doing here?

  'Why don't you go back and fetch your friends, lass? I've got a meal nearly ready. You people travel more slowly than most groups. I heard you coming down the pass a while back.' He ambled over to stir the smoke-blackened cauldron with a great metal ladle. 'I've got porridge ready here. Aren't you going to fetch them?'

  Katia frowned, not moving. 'You were expecting us?'

  'Of course. That's why I'm here.'

  'How did you know we were coming? Are there others keeping watch on the pass?'

  'No. It's my Gift to know such things. Name's Marek. Keeper of the Pass, they call me.' He clanged the spoon against the pot. 'Go on! It'll burn if you don't hurry. We'll have plenty of time to talk later.'

  By the time Katia had brought her companions back to the clearing, Marek had set out bowls and spoons, and stood ready to serve the food. Herra drifted across to the fire to sniff the porridge and dip her fingertip into one bowl, as if unable to resist a taste.

  Marek chuckled. ''Tain't poisoned. But go ahead! You'll feel better if you check that yourself.'

  Herra smiled at him and continued to roll the porridge around her mouth. After a minute or two, she nodded. 'It's delicious. What do you put in it besides meal, Marek? Nuts?'

  'Aye. And a few handfuls of dried fruit. You need some good food in you when you've been on mountain rations for a while, like you lot must've been.' Nim bounded into the clearing and ranged herself at Katia's side, baring her teeth at the stranger. Marek jerked backwards and stiffened. As the cat made no attempt to attack him, he whispered, 'It must have been following you.'

  'It came with us,' corrected Herra. 'It's a friend of ours.'

  'Do you know what you've got there?' he asked hoarsely, his hand twitching towards his knife.

  Herra reached across to press the knife back into the sheath at his waist. 'That's Nim. She's a very good friend of ours.'

  'Cliff cats are nobody's friends, lady. Oh, she may seem tame and friendly now, while she's young, but she'll turn on you one day. They're treacherous devils, those cliff cats. You can't really tame them.'

  Katia was warming her hands by the fire. 'Nim won't turn on us. She knows she can trust me, as I trust her.'

  'I hope you're right, lass, I hope you're right.' He edged away from Nim, but his glance kept straying to Katia in open admiration. Her hair was tied back into a great fall of curls and her green eyes were gleaming like jewels. She was clad in the practical leathers of the Sandrims, with the winter jerkin over her shirt. Her feet were laced into soft calf-high boots. The outfit showed off to perfection the long slender limbs and the feminine curves that a Sister's robes usually concealed.

  From Katia, Marek's eyes moved to Cheral, who was even more to his taste as a woman. Cheral had lost some of the plumpness she had worn almost as a badge of office when she was Novice Mistress of Temple Tenebrak, but she was still a fine figure of a woman. She looked different nowadays to the Sister who had set out on this Quest - harder, sterner, more determined - and yet this only made her face more attractive, for she had also gained in humanity during the journey. She spoke less sharply to others, though she was still prone to boss her Kindred around if she thought they needed it.

  As she watched Marek eye Cheral, Katia wondered what he would say if he knew that the object of his scrutiny was over a hundred and fifty years old. She smiled at the thought, but the smile soon faded. She could guess what his reactions would be. The few people in the claims who had found out about the Sisters'

  longevity had been unable to suppress their envy or their nervousness, as if the Sisters had some form of dangerous magic in their bodies that they could communicate by mere touch.

  When Benjan and Quinna had finished off the last of the porridge, Herra leaned forward. 'How may we repay you for your hospitality, friend Marek?'

  'You can tell me your tale. I'm Storyteller to Rakmar's Band - as well as Keeper of the Pass. Rakmar is headman of the village just down the road. I winter with them.'

  Everyone looked at Herra, who appeared to be sitting lost in thought. She ignored their querying glances and looked across at Marek, fixing him with a stare from which he could not turn away.

  'And what else are you, Keeper of the Pass?' she asked softly, her eyes gleaming briefly with that other light. ' What else are you?'

  He opened his mouth and then shook his head, struggling to keep back the words.

  'Outwatch for Dsheresh,' he mumbled at last, grimacing with the effort he was making to resist her Compulsion.

  ' What do you mean, "Outwatch"? ' that inexorable voice demanded.

  'I - I let 'em know when someone comes through here.'

  ' Let who know? '

  'The SS'Habi. And - and they tell the deleff.'

  'Aaah!' She relaxed the Compulsion and he stared back at her, defiant again.

  'How did you do that?' he demanded.

  'It's one of my Gifts.'

  He snorted. 'Well, Gifts or no Gifts, you can't go past here unless the SS'Habi say so. No one can. So you might just as well make yourselves comfortable until they arrive.'

  Benjan growled in his throat. It made him furious that the deleff and SS'Habi could render him unconscious at will. Quinna, perennially optimistic, patted his shoulder. 'They'd surely have stopped us before now, Ben baby, if they'd not wanted us to leave.'

  Marek cackled, an old man's wheezy jangling of the vocal chords. 'Well, you ain't right there, swordlady!

  They let some people get all the way here an' then they pull 'em right back to Dsheresh again. I seen it time an'

  time. Nothin' anyone can do against 'em, either. They just put you to sleep with that blue stone of theirs if you try to resist.'

  Herra stepped forward. 'It remains to be seen what the SS'Habi will do, my friend, but in the meantime, my companions and I would like to wash ourselves in that brook over there.'

  'Won't be able to bathe in that brook,' said Marek, who seemed to derive a perverse satisfaction from pointing out obstacles. 'Cold as ice, that brook always is, even in summer. Run-off from the snowfields. Hurts even to set your hand in it for more'n a minute.'

  Cheral's eyes had brightened at Herra's words and she ignored Marek. 'That's an excellent idea, Elder Sister. We're all filthy.' She left Marek poking a branch into the fire and muttering to himself about how some folk would soon regret not listening to good advice, and she led the way firmly towards the brook, moving the women further along it till she found a pool suitable for their ablutions. It had not been possible to consider modesty in Dsheresh, but here a woman her age could maintain her privacy.

  'Here will do.' Cheral stripped off her leathers and paused to adjust her body temperature, then she picked some leaves from a nearby froth bush and stepped into the brook. Contrary to Marek's predictions, she had a look of pleasure on her face as she immersed herself in the icy water.

  A few minutes later she emerged, glowing but in no way adversely affected by the temperature of the water. Herra handed her a cloth in lieu of a towel and followe
d her example, stepping happily into the stream.

  Only Narla and Carryn had any real trouble with the water temperature, requiring Cheral's help to control their bodies. Cheral took the opportunity to give them a short lesson in body-control, to which the hardier Quinna listened with great interest.

  'You surely know a few useful things,' she said admiringly. 'Wouldn't mind learning some of that stuff myself.' She ducked quickly in and out of the water, spluttering and cursing at its chill.

  Downstream, Jonner's voice could be heard raised in complaint and, once, in a shrill yell of shock as Benjan lost patience and ducked him in the water.

  Marek watched the women return to the clearing, still muttering to himself. 'It's not right. Not normal, neither. Bathing in that stream at this time of year! Whoever heard of it? Dangerous, they are, this lot. They'll be took back for sure.' He kept looking around, as if he expected to see a SS'Habi platform materialising in the clearing. When nothing happened, apart from the return of the rest of the group, glowing with health, his scowl grew blacker.

  At that moment, a blue light started to flicker at the edge of the clearing and the familiar faint whistling sound heralded the arrival of a SS'Habi travelling grid.

  'Told you,' said Marek.

  'I'm not going back there!' Benjan grasped his knife.

  'Stay together!' commanded Herra, and they closed ranks, the kit standing at their side, whining softly, sensing their uneasiness.

  'Elder Ssisster.' The Elder SS'Habi acknowledged Herra and stepped off the platform. 'You have been fortunate in your escapes. First the desert, then the Rimrascals. Many fail to pass those obstacles.'

  'Not fortunate, determined,' said Herra, standing protectively in front of the group. 'What do you want now?'

  'The Giver of Words assks that you return.'

  'No. We can never return. We've vowed ourselves to this Quest and only death will stop us keeping our vow. Does the Giver of Words intend to kill us?'

  'Sss! No! No violence. Musst not!'

  'Then how shall you persuade us to return?'