Sand of the Soul

by Voronica Whitney-Robinson

  Upon hearing those words, the novices looked around at each other.

  “You could give us directions,” Steorf told him. “If the way is truly so treacherous, we wouldn’t want any of your ‘Children’ to come to harm.”

  Tazi kicked him under the table, not at all pleased with what sounded at best like an insult and at worst, a thinly veiled threat.

  “It will save much more time to show you the path rather than try to explain it to you,” the Lurker replied.

  Secretly, Tazi was grateful he had not outwardly taken any offense at Steorf’s words.

  “That would be best,” Tazi agreed, before Steorf could add anything else. “I think the sands are running out for us.”

  The Lurker rose from his chair and smoothed his robes. He motioned to one of the Children of Ibrandul to approach him. When the novice reached his side, the senior priest spoke softly in the Child’s ear. The novice nodded vigorously several times before the priest finished. Steorf looked at Tazi during the exchange, concern plain in his expression.

  “I don’t think we have a choice,” she whispered in reply to his unasked question.

  “There are always choices,” he whispered back. “Sometimes only wrong ones, though.”

  Tazi chewed her lip thoughtfully.

  “One of the Children of Ibrandul will take you to a small chamber where you can prepare for the excursion,” the Lurker explained. “You will find food and water, and an assortment of weapons and supplies.”

  “Weapons?” Steorf asked, with one eyebrow raised.

  “Ibrandul helps those who are in need, but it never hurts to be ready for anything,” the priest added.

  With that, the Mysterious Lurker retired to a chamber beyond their counsel room. The glow spells glinted off the silver circles covering his outer robe, and Tazi was once again reminded of how much they looked like scales.

  Without further conversation, one of the Children of Ibrandul motioned for them to follow him. He led them back through the main tunnel to another side room. Once inside, Tazi and Steorf saw that it was just as the Lurker had said. The room held several chairs, a workbench, a smaller table laid with a minor feast, and a wall covered with an assortment of weapons. Tazi walked over to the wall and removed a small scimitar with an ornate handle. She admired the weight and balance of the sword.

  “I will leave you for a brief while,” the Child of Ibrandul informed them, “before returning with two others for the undertaking.”

  Tazi thanked him, and he left, shutting the door behind him.

  “What are you thinking?” Steorf hissed at her the moment the door shut.

  Tazi placed a finger to her closed lips and made a circling gesture with her other hand to indicate the entire room. Steorf moved over to stand next to her. When he spoke again, he pitched his voice more softly though Tazi could see he was still angry.

  “This room seems to be safe,” he told her.

  “I thought,” she whispered back, “that Asraf said differing types of magic didn’t work in the temple.”

  “I think he meant that they didn’t work against each other,” Steorf explained. “Since the Lurker took us to that inner chamber, I’ve been testing the waters, so to speak.”

  “What did you learn?” she inquired.

  “As long as I’m not too intrusive, I do have limited use of spells. I’ve been able to detect magical artifacts, for instance, and devices for eavesdropping. That council room had several of both.”

  “Well?” Tazi asked and looked at him expectantly.

  “We should be free to talk,” he reassured her. Without hesitation, he added testily, “What are you thinking?”

  Tazi shook her head at him and walked away a few paces. She briefly checked for less magical means of spying and, satisfied that there weren’t any of those either, she returned to Steorf’s side.

  “If you could manage to keep your temper,” she replied with equal frustration, “I might have time to actually do some thinking calmly, instead of having to soothe ruffled feathers.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked, genuinely puzzled.

  “Between you and that priest baiting each other,” she explained with a touch of ire, “I’ve felt like some kind of juggler, simultaneously trying to keep you calm, him happy, and listen to everything that was being said. But more importantly, I’ve been trying to hear what wasn’t said.”

  “So you don’t trust them,” he replied, pointedly ignoring her assessment of his behavior.

  “I don’t know what or who to trust,” she replied honestly.

  She sat down on one of the stools near the workbench, rested her elbow on the table, and rubbed at her lip thoughtfully.

  Steorf moved beside her and said, “I’m sorry I haven’t been much help.”

  “I know you mean well enough,” she answered, “and I know at times I’m hardly one to talk about bridling anger, but we’re walking a slippery slope here.”

  “You didn’t answer my question. Do you trust them?”

  “As I said, I have some doubts about a lot of this. The Lurker,” she elaborated, “definitely appears uncomfortable, but whether it’s because he’s apprehensive of us or anxious what role his god and, perhaps, his people might play in all of this, I just don’t know.”

  She rose from the workbench and went over to stare at the wall of armaments.

  “Fannah seems at ease with them,” she continued. “I’ll tell you”—she paused to face him, knowing her next words would wound—“I’m basing my decisions on her instincts.”

  Steorf pursed his lips together and was suddenly preoccupied with the inventory on the wall. The uncomfortable silence stretched out between them.

  “I suppose,” he finally commented without making eye contact with her, “that is the wisest course of action you can take. Out of all of us, she is the only one who really knows Calimport, and she has had dealings with these cultists before.” He laughed ruefully. “Not only do I have nothing unique to offer you in this city of sorcery, I’ve already let you down.”

  Tazi suddenly understood why he was so quick to jump at every opportunity. It was to impress her.

  “You,” she said into his face, “have not let me down this time. You are right that sorcery is on every street corner, and thank Selûne that I know yours is the kind I can trust. You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

  Steorf finally looked her in the eye.

  “Keep in mind,” he prompted her, “that Fannah has been away for some time. Things may have changed, and they may no longer be what she remembered.”

  “There are many things that have changed,” she replied quietly.

  More loudly, she said, “Once again, you make a good point. Don’t think for an instant that I don’t value your judgment here as well.”

  Suddenly uncomfortable, Tazi turned her attention back to the wall of weapons. She scanned the collection until her eyes came to rest on an unusual pike. She touched it briefly and turned to face Steorf.

  “Remember the night we went out on one of our first wildings?” she asked. “We ran afoul of that fishmonger and he tried to run us through with his pike. And I thought he was going to be such an easy mark. If you hadn’t stepped beside me, I would’ve been skewered for sure.”

  She laughed a little, but in retrospect thought that his actions then might have been a little more than just those of a bodyguard. Perhaps many of his actions had been more than just services rendered.

  “I still carry the scar,” he told her.

  “You do?”

  “I carry many things, Tazi.”

  The moment lingered between them, and he moved very close to her. Steorf took her hands in his, and Tazi didn’t resist. He rubbed her delicate fingers in almost the same manner as she had done to his wounded ones earlier. Tazi stared at him solemnly, not certain what was going to happen next. Then a realization dawned on her.

  “Your hands,” she exclaimed softly, not quite breaking the mood.

>   Steorf smiled ever so slightly as she examined them, though he didn’t release his light grip on hers.

  “They’re smooth again,” Tazi noticed with delight. “Not a scratch on them! You have been testing the waters, haven’t you?”

  Steorf merely shrugged, but Tazi knew he was pleased that she had noticed. His subtle smile faded, and he squeezed her hands again. Tazi tilted her head to one side and parted her lips. She regarded him questioningly, and her heart beat a little faster. Steorf leaned forward, and the door behind them suddenly swung open. They broke apart, startled by the intrusion.

  Tazi took a step back and watched as three of the Children of Ibrandul entered the room. The first was the novice who had brought them to the room, the second was one Tazi hadn’t seen before, and the third was Asraf.

  “Are we interrupting?” Asraf asked. Tazi thought he sounded somewhat mocking.

  “We were just discussing our next move,” Tazi answered him, afraid of what Steorf might say and also glad to have a moment to consider what had almost happened between them.

  She glanced at Steorf and was relieved to see that he looked calm. In fact, he startled her by going over to Asraf and inspecting the young man’s face.

  Tazi thought that except for his nose, Asraf appeared fine. His nose, though it was no longer bloodied and discolored, definitely had the telltale lump indicating it had been broken.

  That must be the reminder the Lurker said he was going to leave, she thought.

  “Not bad work,” Steorf commented easily, turning the novice’s face from side to side.

  “You had doubts?” the youth retorted, though he winced at Steorf’s touch.

  “Of someone else’s work,” Steorf answered, nodding his head slightly, “I always have doubts.”

  Tazi sighed but the youth took no umbrage with Steorf’s insult. He tried to straighten and look Steorf in the eye. Tazi could see that though there had been some cosmetic work and he was cleaned up, the youth was not yet recovered entirely from Steorf’s attack.

  Asraf gave him a lopsided grin and Tazi realized he was younger than she had originally thought. While his body was not completely healed, his attitude had improved. Either the Lurker had admonished him or he had just decided not to be bothered by what the gharabs said any longer. He caught Steorf’s hand in his and returned the favor.

  “I could compliment you on your work, as well,” he said, not missing the fact that Steorf’s hands were no longer injured, either.

  Steorf extracted his fingers from the acolyte’s inspection.

  “Yes,” he answered, “you could.”

  Tazi shook her head and realized not much had changed after her discussion with Steorf. He was still proud and stubborn.

  Would I really want him to change all that much? she wondered.

  “What’s next?” she asked Asraf.

  “If you two have had enough time to refresh yourselves—” he paused and looked at them both shrewdly—“we should go.”

  Before Steorf could say something Tazi was certain would be in anger, Tazi asked, “You’re coming with us?”

  She could see from the corner of her eye that Steorf’s jaw had tightened.

  “Of course,” Asraf replied easily.

  “Oh,” Tazi muttered. “This is going to be an interesting trip.”

  CHAPTER 7

  TUNNELS OF THE MUZAD

  “Which way now?” Tazi asked.

  She, Steorf, Asraf, and the other two Children of Ibrandul had been maneuvering through the lower tunnels for just a short time. Already Tazi felt some disorientation. Every tunnel looked the same, with very few distinguishing features. The rocks were just rocks to her, no different from each other than blades of grass in a meadow.

  “I don’t understand how you’re able to tell one tunnel from the next,” she marveled.

  “You wouldn’t,” replied the only clean-shaven novice in the group.

  Tazi wasn’t certain if he was being condescending to her or not. She did notice that none of the Children of Ibrandul had bothered to give their names to her or Steorf. In fact, they only knew Asraf’s name because the Lurker had referred to him by name in front of them.

  Are they not supposed to tell us their names, or is it a subtle way to snub us? Tazi wondered.

  “That’s why we’re fortunate to have you to lead us,” she said diplomatically.

  When she received no response, she turned to Steorf and raised her eyebrows as if to say, “I tried.” But he maintained his silence as well and she gave up her attempts to make conversation.

  I wonder how my father manages to manipulate a room full of different merchants and get anything done? she wondered as she started to envy his ability to maneuver others so expertly. A compliment didn’t work, so maybe a somewhat pertinent question might.

  “Just how long ago was the last Dark Bazaar?” Tazi asked.

  None of the Children of Ibrandul were quick to respond. After a look passed between the three, the beardless novice finally answered her.

  “More than likely, it occurred last night.”

  “But you don’t know for certain,” Steorf remarked.

  Tazi knew he was pleased to show her that their guides were far from omniscient.

  “We’ve never been to one,” Asraf chimed in.

  “Why not?” Tazi asked, glad that at least Asraf was willing to offer some information without too much solicitation.

  “They are very grave occasions,” the beardless novice interrupted him. Tazi watched as he cowed Asraf with one serious glare. “As our Mysterious Lurker tried to explain to you, we have never needed to resort to these measures for information.”

  Tazi was definitely sure that the beardless acolyte was belittling them.

  “Desperate times call for equal measures,” Tazi replied, tired of the verbal fencing and insulting innuendo. “We aren’t afraid to take any chance to save Fannah, no matter what the cost.”

  Steorf nodded in agreement.

  She and Steorf marched on in silence for a while after that, behind the three Children of Ibrandul.

  Tazi shivered occasionally as they descended into the cooler depths, and she thought longingly of her jellaba back at the temple. While her leathers would not slow her down like a robe might, her arms were left bare, and she shivered.

  She also tried to look carefully at the different rock formations to see if there were discernable landmarks. In a few of the tunnels they went through, the group had to pass single file as the walls were extremely narrow. Others opened up into comfortable passageways that allowed them all to walk abreast of each other. Most of them had a little light, and Tazi recognized some of the first tunnels they walked through as main thoroughfares of sorts. They were lit with semi-permanent glow spells.

  As they progressed deeper into the system, the lights grew more sporadic. Tazi relied completely on the Children of Ibrandul’s unerring ability to navigate in the darkness.

  “Do you really know these tunnels that well?” she finally broke down and asked Asraf.

  The young Calishite fiddled with his black and purple robes and sneaked a peak at the other Children of Ibrandul. Tazi realized he did want to talk to her but was hesitant to speak, so she slowed her pace imperceptibly. As a result of that, she and Asraf fell a bit behind Steorf and the other two.

  “I think I would probably get lost down here if I were alone,” Tazi said. “Did it take you long to learn the layout of all of these tunnels?”

  “Oh,” Asraf answered after he saw that his two companions were just beyond hearing, “I haven’t learned about all of the tunnels. I don’t think I could know them if I dedicated the rest of my life to studying them.”

  “There are that many under Calimport?” Tazi asked, wanting to keep him talking.

  “There are as many tunnels as there are grains of sand in the Calim Desert,” he answered with a little reverence in his voice.

  “And yet you know your way well enough in these,” she replied.<
br />
  “I know many,” he answered proudly. “And I certainly know where most of the dangerous ones are in our area, but even some of the ones we’re passing through right now are new to me.”

  “But you move through the darkness as though it were day,” she said.

  Asraf gave her a smirk in the gloom and answered, “That’s because I walk the Dark Path of Ibrandul. It’s a very basic spell that all the novices know.”

  “It lets you see in the dark,” Tazi deduced.

  Asraf laughed.

  “You’re quick,” he complimented her, “but that’s not quite it. The spell doesn’t let me see in the dark so much as it lets me know where things are. You recognize the difference?”

  Tazi tipped her head.

  “Of course I do. I’m quick,” she said, smiling warmly.

  Asraf laughed again, and Tazi thought his voice had some of the same musical qualities that Fannah’s possessed.

  Steorf heard their merriment and dropped back to join them. Tazi could see that the beardless novice and his silent companion didn’t notice their exchange. The two had switched to speaking Alzhedo and it looked to Tazi as though they were arguing over some marks on the wall. The silent novice was motioning back, but his beardless friend shook his head fiercely and pointed forward.

  Wouldn’t it be funny if they were lost for a change? Tazi laughed to herself.

  “What trouble are you brewing back here?” Steorf asked Tazi, but included Asraf with a glance.

  Tazi could see that he was trying to make amends for his first encounter with Asraf.

  I don’t know if Asraf will understand what he’s doing, she thought.

  “Nothing that any quick person couldn’t work their way out of,” she said aloud, with a wink to Asraf.

  “Are you both going to wink your way to the Dark Bazaar?” he asked them.

  “If that’s what it takes, that’s what we’ll do. Right, Asraf?” Tazi asked as she clapped him on his shoulder.

  The smiling Child of Ibrandul grew silent. Tazi was afraid she might have offended him either by making a joke of the Dark Bazaar or by using his name or both. She was about to ask him which was true when the other two Children of Ibrandul backtracked to them.