Second Sight: Second Tale of the Lifesong

by Greg Hamerton

  “The cable from Chink is taking longer to weave than it should,” Glavenor commented.

  Their footfalls were absorbed by the thick bridge as if it were solid rock. They hurried away from the gates with more than one glance back toward the open arch.

  The harbour was almost empty of boats. Only a tall-masted ketch was at anchor, and a skiff was tied to the wharf. Some men were offloading crates and stacking them against the wall of a wide-roofed warehouse nearby. Most of the harbour was blackened by the fire. Many of the buildings close to the water’s edge had been burnt to the ground, and a dark spike protruding from the water showed where a sunken boat still lay. There had been many more boats at anchor that night when Ashley had witnessed Tarrok lighting his blaze. Divers must have been working hard to clear the wreckage. Already, a new wharf was under construction, and a tall building, half-clad in new timbers, grew at its head. A pile of planks lay beside it, awaiting the break of day.

  Tabitha led them directly to the skiff. A thickset man stood in the bowels of the boat lifting crates to the wharf.

  “Mulrano?” Tabitha asked.

  The man grunted.

  “Kingsman Rood told us you’d be here. It’s Tabitha, Tabitha Serannon. You brought me here.”

  The man stopped in his work, and looked up to the three of them. He had bluff features and bushy brows. He cocked his head as he looked at the cowled figure of Glavenor.

  “Hu he?” he asked.

  His speech was tortured, as if he was speaking around a mouthful of twigs. Then Ashley remembered. Tabitha had told him of the poor fisherman from Southwind who’d had his tongue cut out by the Shadowcasters to prevent him testifying against them. Ashley supposed Mulrano was working so late at night because so many of the boats in Stormhaven had been burnt out. Someone had to deliver the perishable essentials to Stormhaven. He probably earned better money at it than by trying to string fish out of the lake.

  “It’s just Garyll,” Tabitha reassured Mulrano. Glavenor lifted his cowl.

  But if anything, the fisherman looked more wary than ever. He pointed to Garyll then gestured at his own neck.

  “You can be at ease, goodman Mulrano,” Garyll said. “I’ll not be threatening you in any way. I’m not the Swordmaster any more, and I’ve come to learn the truth about you. I believe you are an honest man, from what Tabitha has told me.”

  “Mulrano, we need passage to Southwind,” Tabitha explained. “Quick passage.”

  Mulrano was silent. Ashley couldn’t make out if he was glowering, or grinning.

  He hadn’t even tried to probe the fisherman’s mind, when a gruff voice sounded within his head.

  “The last time he helped you it cost him dearly,” Ashley recited. “All of his boats holed but one, and a sunken canoe, but he shall hear you and help you, because you are friends with the Riddler. He is actually very impressed with Garyll, because he killed the Darkmaster.”

  Mulrano stared at Ashley. Then he shook his fist at him, and clambered out of the boat onto the wharf.

  Ashley backed away. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I ... You said it so clearly. Ahh—”

  What had he been thinking! He shouldn’t have spoken those thoughts out loud!

  Luckily Tabitha laid a restraining hand on the fisherman’s arm, and Mulrano seemed content not to chase Ashley. “We don’t mean to alarm you,” Tabitha said. “We need to leave for Southwind at once. We had to give the guards the slip.”

  Mulrano glared one last time at Ashley then nodded at Tabitha, as if he understood how these things went.

  “Thank you, Mulrano,” said Tabitha. “I’ll pay for my passage this time.”

  He shook his hands in the air, plainly refusing her offer. He made a gruff noise in his throat, and beckoned Garyll closer to shake his hand. They looked one another in the eye for a long moment. When Mulrano released Garyll’s hand he tilted his head Ashley’s way, and shrugged meaningfully.

  “He’s Ashley Logán, he’s a Lightgifter,” said Garyll. “He’s not coming with us, but he is to be trusted.”

  They couldn’t leave without him! He had to talk to Tabitha. He hadn’t finished what he’d begun. Ashley stepped closer to the others. “When shall I see you again, Tabitha? I have to speak to you.”

  Tabitha shook her head as if she couldn’t guess how long she would be gone. “If you want to talk, Ashley, come with the boat to Southwind. He’ll be coming back tomorrow morning, won’t you, Mulrano?

  Mulrano grunted in acknowledgement, but then he pointed an accusatory finger at the young Gifter, pointed at his own head, and stirred the air.

  “I meant no disrespect when I spoke, sir,” Ashley said hastily. “It’s just ... you strained to get the words out, they were plain to me. Sometimes I-I can’t help finding people’s thoughts in my own head. I wanted to help.”

  Mulrano considered this for a moment then extended his broad hand. Ashley was relieved to be let off the hook, but he had to rub his fingers after the firm introduction. Light! The man had a stronger grip than Glavenor.

  Mulrano jumped down into his boat again, and began hauling crates up to the wharf at a feverish pace. Garyll slid them away into a cluster and, in less than a minute, the last of the skiff’s load was clear. An old man whom Ashley hadn’t noticed before approached from the darkness of the warehouse, and a heavy bag of coins was passed down to Mulrano. Then the three of them boarded the skiff, Mulrano cast off, and they were away.

  The wind tugged at the sail and drove the boat forward to scatter a wave of pearls from the bow.

  _____

  Tabitha breathed Garyll in. He smelled good. She sat in the curl of his arms, where the warmth of his body protected her from the stiff breeze driving the boat. The mouth of the harbour diminished in their wake.

  A stray curl of hair touched her forehead, and she brushed it aside.

  Things had become strange on Stormhaven. She had come to the isle in great honour, but had to flee from it in secret. In truth, it was a relief to escape from the city. She felt she was leaving her fame behind. She would be with Garyll now, they would travel quickly to the Penitent’s pass and face whatever came upon them, together. Their future was like an arrow shot into the dark. After the crown they would go, beyond the Shield, into what remained of the legendary Oldenworld. When they had found the prince, Tabitha would drive onward and not rest until she had found Ethea.

  There was a problem. If she kept the Kingsrim as she sought out Ethea, she would be taking it farther from Eyri, which would cause the kingdom ever greater danger. The crown had to be returned to the king, and soon. Stormhaven, with its mighty stonewood walls, did nothing to keep the order of the realm intact. Mellar did. Without his crown, it seemed the king would crumble.

  The granite headland of the isle’s western heights obscured the city; only a dispersed glow escaped. The stray curl of hair touched her forehead again, and she left it to wander in the breeze this time. It would just get loose again.

  Maybe Garyll could bring the crown back while she went on, but with only two of them, she would be alone in Oldenworld, alone against the unknown threats—alone against Ametheus. A cold doubt turned in her stomach, but the danger could not be helped. No one else could be expected to take the risks she would have to, to save the Goddess. She didn’t even have the first idea of how she would save Ethea, only that she had to find the Goddess, in that place beneath the Pillar, in the lowlands, where the sky was red and hot. She tried not to think of that powerful figure in the split robe, looking out of that unbalanced megalith, hunching under his glass-eyed roof, throwing his Chaos like knots of ruin across the lands.

  She steadied her breathing. For now, the night air was clean on her face; the stars were clear and bright above. She savoured the simplicity.

  Ashley was watching her. He seemed eager to speak. She supposed that she was being rude by not engaging him, for he had come out of his way to discuss his concerns. Helping him with his problem might keep her mind off her own. She ow
ed him a hearing, at least. She liked him, he was a gentle-natured young man, sensitive yet energetic and quite brave as well. His blond hair streamed back with the wind like silk, and his fine features gave him a pure innocence that was charming to behold. Maidens across the realm would chase him for a husband, if they weren’t chasing him already.

  He turned his gaze down and away from her, as if embarrassed by something, and in that instant the touch of her loose hair upon her forehead was gone. Loose hair? Maybe he was not as innocent as his face led people to believe. She vowed to think as quietly as possible around Ashley in future.

  “What did you want to say, Ashley?”

  “I’d like to help, Tabitha. I’d like to come with you on your quest.”

  Tabitha held his eye. “What do you know about the journey?”

  “Well I…that is, it is…you’re going a long way?”

  “What do you know?”

  “More than I should,” he admitted, looking desperately embarrassed. “I understand there’s much danger. I’d like to help, your gr-Tabitha.”

  Tabitha frowned at the swallowed word. “Only if you’re coming as a friend, and not a disciple.”

  He smiled. “I promise.”

  “He’ll need a pack,” said Garyll. “And a weapon of sorts.”

  He had a useful talent, so long as it was turned away from them, not toward them. “We can equip him in Southwind, can’t we Garyll? We need to find horses there as well, don’t we?”

  “You need to get some rest before you climb on a horse, my love.”

  “I’ll sleep when I know we cannot be stopped,” she said, but she was very tired, and she knew it showed. “We have to get away.”

  “If I had some sprites I could help you,” Ashley offered.

  She knew what he was asking. “I can’t make Light essence for you, Ashley. Not at the moment.”

  He looked disappointed. “Do you think I’ll ever be able to learn to use the clear essence?” he asked.

  Tabitha looked at him critically. She was sure she’d caught a glimpse of disturbance around him when he’d reached for her thoughts. “I think you already do, Ashley. The way you hear other people’s thoughts, I don’t understand it, but I can see your ability when I look for it. The essence spreads around you in tendrils. I felt your touch, just now. I’ll know it now if you try again.”

  He mumbled an apology, looking again like an honest boy caught stealing sweets from a jar.

  “I know you don’t mean any harm, but be careful how you use your talent. Sometimes things are thought that are never meant to be said. A woman likes to have her secrets.”

  “So does a man,” added Garyll from behind her. “So does a man.”

  The conversation died away after that, and Tabitha dozed against Garyll’s warm chest. The night became colder, and very quiet. Somewhere on the water a bird hooted. A fish flopped into the Amberlake. The moon was out, a great pale eye on the horizon. It seemed they had only just settled into the journey when Mulrano aimed higher upwind to meet the approaching western shore of Southwind. The jumbled buildings of the lakeside village rose out of the darkness. The boat eased up to a jetty where many vessels lay tethered, the lake lapping against their hulls. Mulrano untied the mainsheet and the sail flapped loose, a sudden whip-crack in the night. He cursed and furled it against the mast. He glared into the night, but there was nothing to see.

  A huge yawn crept up on Tabitha. She was stiff and too tired to care. All she wanted was somewhere to lie down.

  “Kum,” said Mulrano, as soon as they were on the jetty. He gathered their packs before they could shoulder them, and strode away along the planks. Tabitha staggered as the jetty tilted beneath her feet, but Garyll steadied her. Mulrano’s boatshed was dark, as was the house crouched over and behind it. Then a light was struck within the house, and they saw the stairs ahead of them leading up to an open door.

  “I think he means to offer us a bed,” Garyll suggested. “I was going to hammer on the inn’s door.”

  “He is a good man,” Ashley added, in a whisper. “He is dead tired himself. He’s been running supplies to Stormhaven all week. He was going to sleep in the harbour at Stormhaven, but he brought us here anyway.”

  Mulrano seated them in his lounge. He had lit a tall lamp and set a kettle upon the stove. The roof was low, thick-beamed, the walls planked with a warm-coloured oak. The carpet was soft beneath her feet, the chair deep and safe. As the solidity of the room embraced Tabitha’s senses, she remembered another night when she had welcomed its refuge. She had sat in this room with the Riddler, so long ago, after their day-long flight from the Shadowcaster—another night Mulrano had been kept from his bed—a good man, indeed.

  Mulrano hung his heavy coat upon a hook then came to stand before her.

  “Whe you gong?” Mulrano asked.

  “Sorry Mulrano, but it’s a secret,” Tabitha replied. “Somewhere we don’t want anyone to follow us to.”

  “Ah wong tawk,” he said.

  “Already you talk more than I expected,” said Garyll. “It is good to see you defy your tortures.”

  Mulrano turned away quickly. He collected four mugs from a shelf.

  “Peppahmingk? Cbahk? Mehihah,” he asked then grunted, his brow furrowing. “Mememah!”

  He thumped his fist against the counter. “Meheehok!”

  “Mellilot,” Ashley said. “He wants to know if anyone would like some of the herb in their drink. It gives a really good sleep, especially if it’s to be a short deep one.” Mulrano glared at Ashley, and Ashley looked immediately alarmed, but a smile grew beneath the fisherman’s frown, then he burst into laughter. He wagged a firm finger in the Lightgifter’s direction.

  Tabitha knew the herb. “Thanks, I’ll have some, Mulrano. Just don’t make it too strong. We need to be gone by first light. We might have some Swords following us.”

  “Kay. Ah wake hu up,” Mulrano said, including them all in his gesture. “Hu dingk?

  “Peppermint for me,” said Ashley.

  “Good for me too,” Garyll said.

  While Mulrano prepared their mugs, Tabitha’s eyes strayed around the room. A great chart hung on the wall. It had many lines drawn on it over the Amberlake, linking trees and buildings inked near the shore with features on the rim like Fynn’s Tooth, Riversend and the edge of the Zunskar mountains. Where the lines intersected each other, symbols and numbers cluttered the chart. Tabitha supposed it had something to do with positioning his boats on the Amberlake to find the best fish. But one inscription at the edge of the map caught her eye. She rose and approached the chart, and stood to one side to allow the light of the lamp to fall fully upon the parchment. High up in the forest above Llury, one of Mulrano’s reference points was unmistakable.

  “Do you know anything about the Penitent’s pass?” she asked over her shoulder.

  Mulrano brought her steaming mug with him, and passed it to her when he reached her side. He tapped against the chart with a thick finger.

  He exhaled then waved his hand at her. “Uh-uh, uh-uh. Hu go up heah?”

  Tabitha delayed her answer by taking a sip from the mug. He had mixed some honey in with the mellilot. It was soothing, and warm. It was no use denying that they were going to the Pass.

  “Yes,” she answered. “We might have to leave Eyri.”

  “Cahngk. No way ouk!” he said. “Nok foo Pengikank pahff.”

  “Why? What’s there?”

  Mulrano screwed up his face, but although it was obvious he wanted to say something, he only chewed on the words. At last he turned to Ashley, and tapped his forehead with his forefinger.

  “He had some friends when he was young. They used to dare each other to do stupid things, like jumping from galloping horses or ... What is that? Oh, standing on hot coals! You really did that?” Ashley raised his eyebrows. “They went up to the pass, ignoring the warnings of the folk of Llury, or probably because of them. But there is a good reason why the old pass is avoided. H
is two friends fell down from the crushing magic there. He crawled in to fetch them, and dragged them away, but they were dead.”

  “Oh dear. Dear oh dear oh dear. I’m so sorry, Mulrano.”

  Mulrano waved his hand dismissively, as if it was too long in the past to worry him now.

  “Did you get through the pass?” Ashley asked. “Is there anything beyond it?”

  Mulrano shook his head. “Ing ang back. Nok ouk.” He screwed up his face again, obviously distressed.

  “What’s wrong?” Tabitha asked.

  “It’s sore to try and speak,” said Ashley. “What’s left of his tongue strains against his scars. That’s why he’s usually silent.”

  “Oh, forgive me, Mulrano. I didn’t mean to be such a nuisance. We shouldn’t be keeping you up, anyway. You’ve been so good to us.”

  He nodded to show it was all right then he pointed to them and rested his head on his clasped hands. He stomped to a big chest, pulled three thick blankets from it, and laid them on the floor beside the windows. He meant for them to sleep on the floor. The carpet was dense and soft—it would do fine. Mulrano’s simple hospitality was refreshing. He showed no danger of revering or worshipping the Wizard of Eyri, and that frankness made Tabitha trust him all the more. He had offered them a place on the floor, not his own bed.

  Mulrano looked at Ashley before he left, and shook his head, chuckling to himself as he left. When Mulrano had left the room, they sat close to the lamp and finished off their drinks. When they had taken their blankets and Garyll had snuffed out the lamp, Tabitha lay in the dark listening to the lapping of the lake and the sudden wind that gusted at the windows.

  “I hope the Shield has weakened since he tried the pass,” she whispered to Garyll.

  Garyll grunted in acknowledgement. “He was turned away, and he’s as solid as an oak.”