Darksong

by Isobelle Carmody

  She sipped at the drink and set it down as the lad from the bar returned. ‘Ma says she has some vegetable pie with a good crust and she says you would do better to drink your juice unmixed with cirul.’

  ‘Thank your mother for her advice,’ Glynn said. ‘This seems a nice enough place.’

  The lad looked about and sighed unconsciously. ‘Not too many folk come here now. Green legionnaires from the Iridomi chieftains honour guard were in a few too many times, breaking things up and causing a ruckus. People do not want to have their cirul upended in their laps, no matter how pure it is nor how reasonable the price.’ He said this with a sort of mechanical anger that told Glynn he had probably said it often enough for it to have lost its essence. ‘Now the locals want to buy us out and close the place.’

  ‘Did your mother complain about the harassment to the palace legionnaires?’ Glynn asked, genuinely curious.

  The boy gave her a cynical look. ‘Green legionnaires do anything they want and no one dares to complain.’

  ‘But if they do the same thing wherever they go, a group of you could have protested.’

  He almost sneered. ‘They only do it in places like this where people come who cleave to Darkfall. Now, them that cleave do it in private and most wonder what they were cleaving for. And few of them come here.’ He hesitated and Glynn guessed that he was debating whether to ask if she was myrmidon.

  ‘Maybe I’ll have that pie now,’ she said, realising that she needed to be alone if she was going to try contacting Solen again. But she would wait until she had eaten.

  As she picked at the pie, which had been brought out by a dispirited-looking girl, Glynn wondered if the Draaka really imagined that it was possible to learn anything of importance in a single unplanned trip to an unknown nighthall or if it was only a way to keep Tarsin from questioning her about her darklin visions.

  Two men strolled into the room, and glanced casually about before making their way to the bar. Their eyes had settled only briefly on Glynn’s face but her feinna senses told her both of the men had emanated satisfaction. They had almost certainly been sent to keep an eye on her and she now regretted not having tried to reach Solen at once.

  The lad at the bar threw her a questioning look when she set her empty glass down with a thump, and she beckoned to him and quizzed him at length about the various juices available, keeping her voice low enough to ensure that the men would not know the nature of their conversation. She kept him talking as long as she could and, when he went away, she cast her eyes around the room. The nearest couple were a trio of older, rather slovenly-looking women talking in lowered voices. Her feinna-enhanced hearing brought their words clearly to her as soon as she desired it.

  ‘… have to get over him. No man is worth half a woman. Tell her what I said about Lilly,’ one woman said.

  ‘She listens now no more than she did when I told her he was no good. She told me to mind my own man. Little scratchflyt.’

  ‘A scratchflyt hisses and spits when it is afraid, poor lass,’ the third woman sighed. ‘The sad thing is that now the young ones take a man to their beds and hearts without any hope of being loved or treated well. They have come to think it is the lot of women to be ill-treated drudges. And their thinking it makes the men think it, too. But I remember being young and dreaming of some handsome sweet-hearted lad who would take me in his arms and adore me.’

  ‘And look what yer got!’ one of the others cackled. But she sobered quickly. ‘Yet I know what you mean. They’ve no ideals any more and that will not change until the Unykorn is free.’

  ‘Maybe it will never be free …’

  ‘We have to keep hope, Calla. For the young ones, though they laugh at us. Because in our youth, it was still possible to dream, even if the dream soon soured. Why should they not have their dreams?’

  ‘My girl would say she prefers her nightmares,’ one of the others sighed. ‘Contrary slattern.’

  ‘Ah that is the way they all are. Listen, if your lass wants, there is work over at the mansion where my Kata does cleaning. It’s rough labor, but it pays well enough. Work is the best way to heal a heart.’

  Glynn felt the two men watching her again, and turned her eyes to a lad sitting with a man.

  ‘Da?’

  ‘We will see. I have to speak with my master but maybe he will take you on. You know it will not please your mother, though, that you would go down the sewers. She had higher hopes for you than that.’

  ‘I will tell her that I am a man and I will be like my da.’

  His father laughed and ruffled the boy’s hair, and Glynn’s feinna senses detected a rush of guilt mingled with pride in the older man.

  Again her gaze drifted, this time to the two men watching her. She had decided it would be odd if she did not subject them to the same scrutiny as she was giving others in the room. ‘… she is looking at us?’

  ‘Keep your voice down!’

  ‘She could not hear us at such a distance. Just behave naturally.’

  ‘Why did they not simply hire us to do their prying? What sense is there in watchers for a watcher?’

  ‘I was told she watches for a particular person, so maybe she is the only one who can identify him.’

  ‘A man?’

  ‘A woman I think. Do not look at her you fool.’

  ‘Why does she stare at us? Do you think she knows that she is watched?’

  ‘She was sent to get information, and it looks to me as if that is what she is doing.’

  ‘So what are we watching for?’

  ‘I was told only that we are to take note of anyone in whom she shows particular interest. If possible, we are to find out their names.’

  ‘Sounds vague.’

  ‘Who cares. We’ll be paid well enough and it is hardly painful to sit here and drink cirul.’

  ‘I like mine with a bit of olfactor punch in it.’

  ‘We have to keep our wits about us.’

  Glynn shifted her gaze to a group playing a dice game, though she continued to listen to the two men, but they had begun to talk about some scheme to double the coin they were to earn for watching her.

  Three women entered, clearly very drunk. Glynn did not need to enhance her hearing to listen to their words, since they were bellowing loudly enough to make the other occupants of the nighthall wince. The lad at the bar gave them a look which clearly weighed the coin they might spend against the trouble they might cause. Some instinct prompted Glynn to intervene and, in a moment, he was serving the women with a smile and so much courtesy that they looked startled and suspicious. Glynn sighed inwardly, thinking that she must learn how to temper the emotions she projected.

  Then she bit her lip and cursed her stupidity, realising that she had just squandered the energy she needed to reach Solen. She would have to wait again.

  An hour later, Glynn tried to contact Solen and failed. She did not bother to try again. She had come up with a secondary plan and now it would have to do. Rising unsteadily, she stumbled just enough to suggest that she was slightly drunk. To her dismay, both of the men watching her rose purposefully. They meant to follow her! Casting her eyes around the room, she found herself looking at the drunk women. They were full of grievances and aggression, and the cirul they had consumed had exaggerated them. It was a small matter to provoke what was seething in them.

  As Glynn passed out through the door to the privvy, she glanced back and grinned wickedly to see two of the three women standing and haranguing the men. She found her way to the yard but there was no gate out. Glynn stood back, hoisted her skirts, and then took a run at the wall before hurdling smoothly over it. Landing balanced on both feet on the other side she ran lightly uphill to the carriage. The important thing was to get it moving before the men inside realised that she had gone.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Aluade demanded sharply, when she appeared at the window.

  Glynn prayed that she was right in guessing that Aluade knew almost nothing of her erra
nd. ‘I heard a man in there talk of the person that the Draaka wanted me to find out about. They say she is in another nighthall even as we speak. It is called the … The Scarlet Sether. We should go there and …’

  ‘I was told that you were to come here and nowhere else,’ Aluade said and, to Glynn’s horror, she took up the knife. ‘Get on the carriage and we will return to the palace. It is almost dusk anyway.’

  Glynn stammered, ‘But the Draaka will be angry if …’

  ‘Silence!’ Aluade said, and she tapped the knife purposefully on the wicker casket. ‘Now get aboard.’

  ‘Do you wish to go?’ the carriage driver asked Aluade.

  ‘Not yet, but get into place and be prepared,’ Aluade ordered imperiously. She glanced back at the nightshelter and Glynn realised with horror that she knew about the men and meant to wait for them. In another minute, she would become suspicious about the fact that they had not followed Glynn out.

  Aluade gave her an irritated look. ‘I told you to get aboard the carriage, dolt.’

  Glynn went around to the front of the carriage to where Aluade could not see her, knowing that there was only one thing to be done. She stood waiting until the driver had finished tightening the tether straps and climbed into his place, then she climbed up and squeezed onto the seat beside him. He gave her a look composed equally of puzzlement and irritation but, as she had hoped, he said nothing, assuming she was following Aluade’s instructions.

  Glynn took a deep breath, grasped the edge of the carriage firmly and struck. It was not hard for her to gather and intensify her own fear, and push it from her into the carriage driver’s mind. He gave a gasping curse and flailed his whip, and the aspi broke into a fast trot.

  ‘What the … stop! Stop, driver!’ Aluade shouted, but he was deaf to her.

  ‘Stop! I command it. You … you will be whipped for this, driver!’ Aluade screeched.

  ‘I will stop him, Lady!’ Glynn bellowed, and she swung her arm from the elbow, dealing a swift sharp blow to the driver’s carotid artery, rendering him unconscious. Grasping his shirtfront to stop him toppling off the seat, she grabbed for the reins and shook them hard. The aspi increased its speed.

  ‘Driver! Stop!’ Aluade shrieked.

  ‘I can not stop him,’ Glynn screamed back, pulling the reins ruthlessly to one side to turn the aspi into a side street. The carriage bounced off the corner, but made the turn. Aluade screamed.

  ‘He has gone mad!’ Glynn cried out over her shoulder. Then she saw a small cluster of children ahead blocking the end of the lane. Feeling the blood drain from her face, she hauled back on the reins as hard as she could and the carriage came to a shuddering halt.

  The street was mercifully empty, other than for the children, who had not even noticed them yet. Glynn let the driver fall sideways then she leapt from the carriage and rushed to the door. A white-faced Aluade was sprawled across the seat, eyes wide with fright. To Glynn’s relief, the wicker cage was still sitting on the seat, unopened.

  ‘Lady, I … I hope I have not killed him,’ Glynn babbled.

  ‘What did you do?’ Aluade demanded, gathering her wits and picking up the thin black knife.

  Glynn knew that she had only a few seconds more to take advantage of the woman’s bewilderment. ‘I hit him,’ she gasped. ‘I had to! He would not stop. I thought he would kill us. You have to tell them I did nothing wrong. Look, he is there,’ she pointed and, as she had hoped, Aluade instinctively leaned against the bars to look out of the window.

  Glynn’s hand snaked between the bars and she grabbed the Iridomi by her forearm in a tight grip. ‘Let me go! Let me go or I will kill the beast. I will torture it before your eyes!’ Aluade shrieked and fought against Glynn’s hold. From the corner of her eye, Glynn saw the children begin to rise and look around. In another minute, one of their parents would come out to investigate the commotion.

  ‘Unlock the door now or I will break your wrist,’ Glynn threatened as viciously as she could.

  Aluade made a stab at her hand with the knife, but Glynn had been waiting for it, and her other hand darted out and caught the second wrist. ‘Open it or I will break both wrists,’ Glynn snarled.

  Aluade gave a sobbing laugh. ‘You think I have the means to unlock the door? Draakira Leta put me in here with the beast in its cage and then she locked me in and took the key. So you see you have done all of this for nothing, and I promise that your beast will pay dearly for your escape.’

  Glynn stared at her, paralysed with indecision, for her feinna senses told her that the Iridomi was telling the truth and, if she released the woman, the first thing she would do would be to take her revenge on the feinna.

  Aluade’s fury turned to puzzlement and then incredulity. ‘You … you will not leave the beast? You must be mad.’

  All of the fury went out of Glynn. ‘I can’t leave it,’ she whispered. ‘I can’t.’ She could feel her fingers slipping on the oiled flesh, and knew she must act. Dragging the Iridomi to the bars, she released one arm and, before Aluade could gather her wits, drove the stiffened fingers of her free hand through the bars and into the tattooed temple. It was not a hard blow, but a calculated one, and Aluade collapsed, her unconscious weight pulling her other arm free. In the silence that followed, Glynn heard her own ragged breathing and the sound of voices coming nearer. She glanced up and found the children had vanished. Heart pounding, she ran to the front of the carriage, hauled the driver to the ground and a little to one side, then she took his seat and the reins.

  ‘Please … please aspi, I have never eaten any of your cousins. Help me to get us out of here,’ Glynn muttered. Then she put her foot by the wooden brake pedal as she had seen the driver do, and gave the best imitation she could of his clicking noise. To her intense relief, the aspi gave a shiver and began obligingly to move forward. Glynn licked her lips. So far so good. They reached the end of the street without mishap and Glynn pulled a little on one rein and heaved a sigh of relief as the aspi obeyed.

  She had no idea which way to go, or indeed where to go, but her plan was to get to some quieter part of the city as fast as possible, where she could get something and smash open the door before the Iridomi woke. But when she spotted the city wall above some house roofs, it struck her that the safest thing would be for her to drive the carriage right out into the wilderness. Then she need not worry about anyone coming upon her.

  Using the wall as a guide, she made straight for it, reasoning that she could simply go along it then until she came to a gate. To her intense delight, when she came to the road which ran along the city wall, she could actually see a city gate further up the hill. Slowing down, it occurred to her belatedly that there was every chance the gate would be guarded, but in fact there was no one, although further up the road a troop of green legionnaires was marching down towards the gate. Glynn shook the reins hard and gave a loud cry that made the aspi rear and break into a wild gallop. In seconds, they passed through the gate, travelling at such a speed that the carriage tipped onto two wheels and clipped the stone gateway, sending up a shower of fragments.

  At once they were surrounded by trees and thick undergrowth on both sides of the road, which wound its way up ahead. Glynn gave a wild yell of triumph because, despite all the obstacles, she and the feinna were free of the Draaka. She would drive the carriage until she reached a safe place, use a rock to batter her way into it and escape on foot with the feinna. When she had put some distance between them and the carriage, she would contact Solen.

  Realising that they were beginning to speed up because the road had begun to slope down, Glynn tugged at the reins, but the aspi had the bit between its teeth and all at once it began to bolt. When the road curved, the carriage tipped over onto two wheels, and Glynn’s heart leapt into her mouth. Fortunately the weight of the vehicle was sufficient to bring the two raised wheels back to the ground with a bone-shuddering crash, but Glynn dreaded to think of what must be happening in the cabin. She began to drag frant
ically at the reins.

  Her tugs irritated the aspi and, with one jerk of its great head, it pulled the reins from her hands. She gave a desperate cry and dived after them, but they snaked away and then fell to the trail to lash about under the thrashing hoofs of the aspi. Glynn froze in horror, knowing that any second the animal would tread on the rein.

  We could be lucky, she thought.

  For a moment it seemed as if it might be so, but then, just as they were rounding another bend, there was a sickeningly abrupt jerk that threw Glynn from the bench seat. As she fell, she saw the whole carriage rise in a terrifying arc above her, blotting out Kalinda’s light.

  segue …

  The watcher segued, following the falling arc of the blonde girl, and found itself inside the mind of the musician, whom it recognised from the dreams of both the Unraveller and her sister, and from its own segues. This man was important, and it needed to know why and how.

  Music was running through the man’s mind; the strangely unsettling music of this world, which seemed to have become a vehicle for disharmony and despair, just as the dreams of its makers had done. On Keltor, music could not carry Chaos as this music did. It was actually impossible. Songs could be about despair and darker emotions, but the music itself was always a form of the Song. But in this world, music was a battlefield where harmony and disharmony warred. It was as if the Song had split in two.

  And the man somehow understood this. Like the boy, he was profoundly aware of what lay within the music and, mentally, he began to reshape it. Without knowing it, he was striving to bring the chaos within the music into harmony. As he struggled with what he could neither name nor see nor even really understand, his weary aura grew brighter and stronger. A man passing him stared at him in surprise, as did a young black woman a moment later. The man did not see their reactions because he was elated by the music that he was creating. He was using the same music as Hard Goth, but he was arranging it differently, altering the emphasis here and there, and exposing and enhancing the thread of hope hidden within it.