“That’s good, Sal,” said Shilly softly, her hand gently on his shoulder. “Good. Almost there...”
Finally, the lines were one.
Dad? Can you hear me?
He waited, but there was no response. He shot a questioning look at Shilly, without breaking his concentration, and she gave him an urgent thumbs-up. It was working, even if there was no response.
Dad? What’s happening to you?
The silence echoed back at him like a cave.
Dad? Are you there?
Shilly frowned. “He must be able to hear you. It’s hurting my head and I don’t even have the Change.”
“Neither does my father.”
“Oh, well--”
She got no further. A reply came out of nowhere, loud and strong.
Sayed! It was a woman’s voice: the Syndic’s. Sayed, is that you? Where are you? Sayed, speak to me!
Sal recoiled from the woman’s mental touch as though it had stung him. The lines dissolved back into tumbling straw, and he felt a distant part of him snap back with a thud. The shock of breaking the connection so suddenly knocked him flat for a second--not unconscious, but overloaded. His mind couldn’t withstand the backlash, so it took the only action it could: it blanked out completely to avoid it.
(And for a timeless moment there was nothing but a distant hum all around him--embracing him, drawing him back into the Whole.)
When he could see again, Shilly was bending over him. “Are you back?”
“I--think so.” He tried to sit up and was overwhelmed with dizziness. He lay back for a moment with his hand over his eyes. “You heard her? The Syndic?”
“Yes, and I guess that means she heard you.” Her dark face was gray, and she sounded slightly nervous, as though belatedly regretting the experiment.
“Now what do we do?”
“We wait and see, I guess.” She sat down next to him and tapped his arm. “Are you feeling any better?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I’ll give you a game of Blind to pass the time, if you like.”
They didn’t have long to wait. Just as Sal was about to pin down one of Shilly’s elusive tendrils, they heard the entrance to the workshop hiss open.
“Are you two here?” they heard Lodo bellow down the tunnel.
The fog cloud vanished as their concentration shattered. They sprang apart as though caught doing something forbidden.
“We’re here,” Shilly answered cautiously.
“Ah, I thought so.” His footsteps thudded rapidly toward them. Sal waited nervously to see what expression the old man was wearing, but when he appeared he had the same air of pent-up energy as always. Upon entering the workshop, he didn’t stop until he was right on top of them, then he crouched down and took their hands in his.
“Well done!” he said, and his face broke out into a wide grin. “You clever things!”
“You heard us?” Sal almost wet himself with relief.
“Yes, and it’s thrown them into complete panic.” Lodo held their hands clasped tight. “I only wish I’d thought of it myself.”
“What happened?” asked Shilly.
Lodo settled back onto his haunches. Sal distinctly heard his hip pop. “As it turned out, I was meeting Centofanti at the very same time. She’d kept me waiting more than an hour while she dealt with some request from the Syndic, and when she finally let me through all we did was talk about the applicants for Selection. I could tell her mind wasn’t really on the topic, though. It wasn’t until she worked around to asking about the new apprentice of mine that she seemed to be interested at all in what I was saying. Someone has obviously been asking around.
“Anyway, I said pretty much what your father told them, Sal. That you were from out of town, somewhere in the borderlands, no one special, and she seemed to half-believe me, even though she’d obviously rather I was lying. It would be a big boost to her career to be the one who found you.” Lodo winked at Sal.
“And then it came. I felt your call go through me like a sledgehammer. It was very well done, Shilly--I presume you helped Sal with it.” She nodded, looking pleased. “Even though you’d aimed it at your father, the fringes spread enough for anyone nearby to hear it, and the Mayor’s offices aren’t too far from the prison. I panicked for a second, wondering what on earth you two were up to, until I traced the call back to its source, and realized.”
He stopped and folded his hands in his lap. “Seconds later, the building was in turmoil. Every Sky Warden in the place had heard it, apart from Centofanti. She’s obviously even less talented than I thought. Everyone was running around, trying to find the Syndic before you disappeared. But she had heard it well enough, and she appeared a moment later, screaming for everyone to be quiet. By the time you sent your third call, she knew where you were and she was ready to reply. She had enough composure for that, at least.
“And then you were gone again. You couldn’t have timed it better! The Syndic was beside herself. She cursed everyone she could think of: your father, the Mayor, Centofanti. She even cursed the Alcaide. And that got him in a rage, too, for it was she who had led them to Fundelry. And so it went.
“So things aren’t currently looking too rosy for the local officials. First, Holkenhill almost let you slip through his fingers--and he was practically sleeping in the room next door!--then Centofanti didn’t hear your call. I slipped out while people were still arguing about what it meant, just in case they asked me for my opinion. I’m quite happy for them to continue thinking of me as a well-meaning charlatan. You get more work done that way.”
Lodo looked very pleased with them. He ruffled their hair and clapped his hands together. “And there you go. We’re not out of the swamp yet, but the end is in sight. The last I heard, they’re thinking of hauling anchor early and heading off to Tumberi, the town nearest the workshop. That’s over a hundred kilometers west. I built the workshop there when I first left the Haunted City, in a place unlikely to be disturbed but strong in background potential.” He indicated the walls of the workshop. It was weird to think that they were, in truth, nowhere near the town just a kilometer or two away. “At the very least, their attention will be focused there, not here--or the other way around. Whatever, that makes the rest of our job that much easier.”
Sal nodded. “We have to get Dad out of the prison before they leave.”
“Or convince the Alcaide to let him go.” Lodo nodded. “I said I’d take you to see your father during the feast, and I’m as good as my word. We’ll go once everyone is occupied. If they’re as distracted by the Tumberi lead as I hope they’ll be, that will definitely work in our favor.”
“And what then?” asked Shilly. “Do you have a plan?”
“I have several. Whether any of them will work is open to debate.” He held out one hand and ticked off his fingers with the other. “First, we have to distract the Sky Wardens. Second, we have to get Sal’s father out of jail. Third, we have to get both of them away from Fundelry. Fourth, we have to stop them from being followed. The last two will be easiest if we can find the buggy, so we’ll call that five. All up, that’s a pretty tall order for anyone.” He put his hand down, his expression sober again. “If we could talk the Alcaide into letting him go, that would solve everything, but I’m not pinning my hopes on it. Just getting a chance to talk to him will be difficult, let alone getting him to listen.”
Sal was silent for a moment. Lodo had no good reason to help him, and saying “thanks” seemed woefully inadequate. Even worse would be to ask why Lodo was helping him. He simply had to accept it, for good or ill.
“Soon,” he said, “I hope you’ll see the end of my parents’ story.”
“Of Dafis and Seirian?” Lodo smiled. “I hope so too--or the Goddess knows it’ll be the end of me.”
Chapter 17. “A Heart Lost...”
The afterno
on passed in a blur of preparation. Lodo had Sal concentrating on the Mandala technique while Shilly helped him make charms. Sal had become very good at holding the Mandala in place, even while he did other things. Now, given the one task to do, and with a terrible urgency driving him on, he was pleased to see just what he could accomplish--especially when, not even a week ago, he had not had much of an idea about the Change at all.
What Shilly and Lodo were making, he didn’t know. Sal received the distinct impression that Lodo was trying to cover as many contingencies as possible. Since he didn’t know exactly what they would need, he made a little of everything. Shilly too seemed to be out of her depth, but she had stopped complaining and did as she was asked.
Finally, everything was ready, and Lodo judged that the feast was about to begin. He struck the brass cylinder with its miniature hammer. “I’ve summoned the others,” Lodo said. “They’ll help us blend in and will keep an eye on what’s going on.”
“’The others’?” asked Sal.
“The people on the beach,” Shilly explained. “The ones we can rely on.”
Sal nodded, remembering guitar-playing Derksen, and Thess, her stomach swollen with child. Josip, Von and Aunty Merinda had been there too. He was glad they were on his side, but didn’t think much of their chances against the Alcaide and the Syndic and all their entourage.
“Surprise will be the key,” said Lodo. “Their attention will be diverted. They’ll be in a hurry to wrap things up and move on while the trail is fresh. While their minds are elsewhere, or on trivia, we’ll find a space to act.”
Sal nodded. Lodo sounded like he knew what he was talking about. There was just one thing still bothering him.
“Why do they want me so badly?”
Lodo paused in his preparations and met Sal’s gaze. “When we first met, I thought I knew. I thought they just wanted to bring the vendetta to an end. If they brought your father in to face justice, they would solve the mystery of what had happened to him and Seirian. But there’s obviously more to it than that. Your father talked as though they had taken your mother away from him, and they didn’t deny it. And once they found out there was a child, it was you they were after, not your father. There’s something about you that’s special, Sal--or they think there is--and I’m not sure what that might be.”
“He’s very talented,” said Shilly, studying them both with watchful eyes.
“Could it be just that?” In the short time they had known each other, Sal had never seen Lodo look so uncertain. “Maybe I’m overestimating them. They simply may not like the idea of another wild talent flaring up without warning.”
“Another what?” asked Shilly.
“That’s a long story,” said Lodo. “Later. Suffice it to say that, if that’s what they’re trying to prevent, they’re going about it completely the wrong way.”
The old man shrugged into his coat, which hung even heavier than it normally did. “Bring your packs, Sal. We might not have time to come back to get them. Shilly, you wear his father’s.”
Shilly rolled her eyes, but slipped her arms through the worn leather straps and hefted the small pack onto her shoulders. Sal put his on with a grunt, the unexpected weight of the globe hidden inside taking him off-balance for a second. He recovered and hefted it into a better position. He could manage it. With the bracelets back on his senses were once again deadened to the Change.
“Right.” Lodo looked them over as though inspecting troops for battle. “Good enough. Let’s go.”
The square was filling with people when they arrived. It was a warm, muggy night, perfect for an outdoor event. Lodo did a quick tour of the town to light the main globes, but he didn’t light them all. Sal assumed that he was in a hurry, or didn’t want to stand out for too long. Either way, they soon joined the rest of the town around a number of large trestles containing baked fish, broth and bread free for all to eat. In the center of the square, both the Alcaide and the Syndic sat on the podium with their attendants close at hand, the ranks of black and gray and blue uniforms making them look like soldiers. Alder Sproule and the Mayor were with them, as was Amele Centofanti, looking sourly at the crowd. Holkenhill, the rest of the Alders and the town officers were forced to mingle with the villagers, although most didn’t seem to mind.
Sal was horribly nervous, despite the charms and the Mandala. He just wanted to get away, but Lodo wouldn’t let him.
“Eat first,” the old man insisted. “You’ll need your strength.”
Sal accepted a plate piled with food from Thess--who, with the rest of Lodo’s friends, was always nearby--and forced down as much as he could. He could feel the food sitting heavily in his stomach and tried to think about something else.
Shilly nudged him and pointed to someone on the far side of the square. “There’s Tait,” she said. “He doesn’t look happy about things either.”
“Who doesn’t?” Lodo asked.
She described their encounter with Tom in the dunes that morning: Tom’s disappointment at his brother’s reception, and Tait’s unwillingness to come home.
“Yes,” said Lodo, nodding. “I wondered about that. It’s not usual for a trainee to be sent home so soon. They rarely are at all, in fact. Sky Wardens are mostly posted to distant regions to make sure they don’t get too comfortable. Tait must have done something wrong, or failed quite badly, for them to want him out of the way.”
Lodo’s words gave Sal a better inkling of Tait’s position. It must have been galling to fail in the Haunted City and be sent home, only to find that his little brother had done better than he ever did. In such a light, it was easier to understand his callous treatment of Tom, even if it wasn’t forgivable.
Wine flowed freely among the adult members of the crowd. Spirits lifted steadily. Word was spreading that the Selectors would make their announcement early the next morning, rather than in the afternoon, in order to move on to more pressing business. Sal worried that that might not give them enough time, but Lodo didn’t seem overly concerned.
Finally, the old man looked around to judge the mood of the crowd, then turned to Sal and said: “It’s time for you to see your father.”
Sal put his half-full plate on a trestle and wiped his hands. His heart beat a little faster. He followed as Lodo spoke to his friends one by one, giving them each a small splinter of brown stone. Thess kissed Sal on the cheek; Aunty Merinda smiled toothlessly and wished him luck; Josip and Derksen tried to lighten his spirits by joking; even Von looked sympathetic. When it was over, Sal was relieved.
Lodo, Shilly and Sal slipped safely out of the crowd and into the shadows. The sound of talking and laughing faded behind them but didn’t quite disappear as they wound their way through the streets toward the prison. The knowledge that a large number of Sky Wardens were only a short distance away was forever with him. Sal hadn’t seen any of them drink much, so he didn’t dare hope that they would be too drunk to respond to an alarm. It was just as important as ever to be inconspicuous.
Sal had been wondering how they were going to get into the prison, and received the answer when they approached the front entrance. They stopped under the low-hanging branches of a tree and held a brief whispered conversation.
“We’re not going in the front door, are we?” asked Shilly.
“You aren’t, Shilly. You’re standing guard out here.” He gave her one of the thin slivers he had given the others. “If someone comes, snap this in two. Otherwise, don’t do anything. Just stay under cover and wait. Understand?”
She nodded. “But the officers--”
“Don’t worry about them. There will be just two at the most, and I can handle them.” To Sal he said: “You follow me and don’t say anything.”
Sal swallowed. “Okay.” He let himself be led out of the shadows and toward the front door. Their feet crunched on the road surface. Behind them, he heard a slight scufflin
g sound as Shilly took cover. When he looked over his shoulder, she was nowhere to be seen.
The door approached all too quickly. Lodo eased it open and walked right in. Sal took a deep breath and followed.
The same officer from the previous day was on duty. “Hello again, Lodo,” he said from behind the wide, wooden counter.
“Good evening, Cran. Can you let us through?”
“I don’t know. Our orders were never changed. Alder Sproule--”
Cran never finished his sentence. Lodo reached into his pocket, produced a handful of white sand and threw it into the officer’s face. Instantly, Cran’s face went blank and empty.
“You didn’t see us come in,” Lodo said. “Resume your duties as before.”
Cran didn’t respond. He simply turned and went back to his seat. He didn’t look up as Lodo guided Sal--with one finger to his lips--past the counter and down the corridor on the other side to the cells.
None of the interior doors were locked. It was almost too easy, Sal thought. If they could get the key to the cells they could easily sneak his father past the hypnotized Cran …
“Hey, where did you come from?” boomed a voice from behind them.
Sal turned, his throat in his mouth. Another officer had entered the corridor.
“We’re here to see the prisoner,” said Lodo calmly. “Cran sent us through.”
“Did he, eh? He should know better. I’ll--”
Another puff of white sand brought his objection to an end.
“We were never here,” Lodo said. “Do what you have to do, and forget about us. The prisoner does not need to be disturbed.”
The officer went back up the hallway with a slight frown on his face and disappeared around a corner.
Lodo wiped his forehead. “Pray to the Goddess there are no more than two. I’m not sure how many of them I can hold at once.”
The Stone Mage & the Sea (Books of the Change Book 1) Page 27
