by Julia Gray
'This is Terrel,' the sky-watcher said.
The boy found himself looking into the impenetrable darkness beneath the hood, searching for a glimpse of the sharakan's eyes, for some spark of life - but could see nothing.
A delicate hand emerged slowly from within the folds of the cloak.
'Take the Collector's hand,' the acolyte instructed.
Terrel reluctantly did as he was told. The sharakan's skin was cool and dry, his grip firm but gentle. Beyond that Terrel felt nothing, no connection, no sense of
illness or wellbeing. The man - like his face - was a void, invisible. It was a relief when the contact ended.
'Where do you come from, Terrel?' the acolyte asked.
The boy glanced at Farazin before replying, but on receiving the sky-watcher's nod, he spoke up in as steady a voice as he could manage.
'I come from Vadanis, in the Floating Islands.'
Terrel was surprised when this information evoked no reaction from either of the two visitors.
'You may go,' the sharakan's assistant said a moment later.
Is that it? Terrel wondered. He turned away, not sure whether to feel relieved or insulted, and saw Talker edging forward, holding the arm of one of the village women. As Terrel stepped back, he glanced around, wondering where Davi was, but the boy was nowhere to be seen.
The brief touching of hands was repeated with Talker, but on this occasion the acolyte asked no questions and simply waved him away. Then he leaned close, to consult with his master.
'There are others—' Farazin began.
'Where is the boy who is the blind man's usual guide?' the acolyte asked abruptly.
'I'm not sure,' the sky-watcher replied, looking round as Terrel had done. 'He should be here.' Spotting the boy's parents, he went over to speak to them, then came back to report. 'He's missing, I'm afraid. His parents haven't seen him since midday.'
'No matter.' The acolyte clearly saw no need to explain why the sharakan might have wanted to see the child.
'There are others . . .' Farazin repeated nervously, as several more villagers inched forward.
Watching, Terrel wondered why they were so eager. He couldn't understand the hope on their faces.
'There is no one else here of interest,' the acolyte declared, and a communal sigh escaped from the lips of the gathering.
'This gathering is over,' the acolyte announced, then turned and followed his master back to their lodgings.
The two visitors spent the afternoon ensconced in Farazin's hut, allowing only the sky-watcher himself to join them. The rest of the villagers accepted their dismissal meekly and, for want of anything better to do, returned to their daily tasks. Terrel spent his time at the infirmary, until his own weariness got the better of him and he went back to the Miranas' hut. He had been brooding ever since the gathering, and wanted to discuss it with someone he trusted. He had hoped that Ysatel would be there alone, but Kerin was with his wife, displaying his new-found overprotectiveness.
'You'll drive me crazy if you keep on fussing like this,' Terrel heard her say as he drew closer. 'And we'll never get anything done.'
'I know what's important,' Kerin responded, unabashed.
'Hello, Terrel,' she said, on seeing the boy. 'Talk some sense into him, will you?'
'Terrel's going to look after you all the time, just as I am,' Kerin claimed.
'Having a healer in the family is a wonderful thing.'
Terrel found himself teeming with conflicting emotions.
The fact that Kerin now included him as a member of the family touched him deeply, but he did not want to commit himself to having to stay in Fenduca for another eight or nine months in case he missed the opportunity of getting back to his homeland. He tried not to let any of this show on his face, and Kerin gave no sign of having noticed his confusion.
'Come and check on her now, will you?' he asked.
'Gate!' Ysatel exclaimed. 'Stop pestering the boy. And stop pestering me!'
'Please, Terrel,' Kerin persisted.
'Moons! Just do it, Terrel. It may be the only way to shut him up.'
Terrel went to them and took her hand. Although he felt rather embarrassed, that changed in an instant. In contrast to his contact with the sharakan, this felt immediate and welcoming, and he was enveloped by a waking dream of warmth and peace. The sensation was so powerful that his senses reeled and he almost fell, but Kerin caught his arm and steadied him. The dream held echoes; a small dream within another. Terrel smiled, thinking that this was how it should have been.
'Is she all right?' Kerin asked anxiously. 'Are they both all right?'
'Of course I'm all right,' Ysatel responded testily.
'All is well,' Terrel confirmed, releasing her hand and stepping back.
'Good.'
The boy had begun to feel very dizzy. He sat down on the ground with a bump, then keeled over.
'Now look what you've done,' Ysatel complained. He's worn out.'
'I only—'
Terrel heard nothing more of their conversation. He was unconscious.
When he awoke he had been covered with a blanket, and the fire was glowing brightly as evening drew in. Kerin and Ysatel were busy preparing food together, but none of the others had arrived yet. It took Terrel a few moments to clear his head, but then he sat up and stretched. 'He's awake.'
'Are you all right, Terrel?' Ysatel asked. 'Would you like some water?' He shook his head.
'So, what did you think of the sharakan?' Kerin asked, saving the boy from having to raise the subject himself.
'You should be honoured that he wanted to meet you.'
Terrel did not feel remotely honoured.
'It was one of the strangest experiences of my life,'
he said hoarsely.
Kerin was obviously taken aback by this response, but Ysatel smiled slightly.
'Are they all like that? So aloof and arrogant?' Terrel had formed a low opinion of the sharakan, and saw no point in hiding his feelings. Although he did not know whether the sharakan was typical of the rest of his kind, the boy hoped that they would not all behave so unpleasantly.
'I don't think—' Kerin began, but was interrupted by his wife's laughter.
'I told you he wouldn't be fooled,' she said. 'That's exactly how he behaved.
Aloof and arrogant.'
'What good did he do?' Terrel asked, emboldened by Ysatel's agreement. 'I thought he'd answer questions, give us some guidance, anything that might help.'
'Sharaken are not practical men,' Kerin explained, 'but we still owe them our respect.'
'Why? What amazed me was the way we accepted his rudeness. We all looked on quietly, as if his behaviour was somehow admirable. What's he done to deserve such reverence? Why should a good man like Farazin be so desperate to impress him?'
His outburst surprised even Terrel himself - he hadn't been aware just how high his feelings were running - and Kerin was clearly astonished. Even Ysatel was quiet now, and the boy began to think that he might have gone too far.
'I . . . I'm sorry. This isn't my land. I have no right to question your beliefs.'
There was a long pause.
'You've every right,' Kerin said eventually, 'if you're speaking the truth.'
'It's just that I don't understand,' Terrel said, trying to explain. 'Why did he come here? What is he collecting?'
'Recruits, possibly.'
"For the sharaken?'
Kerin nodded.
'I'm only guessing, though,' he went on. 'No one's ever been sure what they want.'
Terrel thought back, wondering whether the contact had been some kind of test
- and knowing that if it was, then he and Talker had both failed it.
"Would Davi have known that?' he asked.
'He might have guessed the same thing,' Kerin replied.
'Do you think that's why he disappeared?' Ysatel asked, her eyes wide.
'Would they have taken someone so young?' Terrel asked.
'Maybe.'
'Then I'm glad he wasn't there.'
Chapter Nineteen
Although the sharakan and his assistant left the next morning, another short month was to pass before Farazin would talk of what he and the visitors had discussed. During that time, the sky-watcher became a virtual recluse among his own people, keeping to his hut, poring over charts and muttering to himself. Terrel was not the only one who tried to talk to Farazin, but no one succeeded. Everyone was given short shrift, and told that they'd learn all they needed to know when he was good and ready.
That time did not come until many days had passed, and by then most of Fenduca's inhabitants had begun to dismiss the sharakan's visit as an irrelevance, something that had had no effect on their lives — beyond the fact that there had been no gatherings since then, and no prayer-flags had been set for the most recent full of either the Amber or Red Moon. Although this in itself was not so unusual, many villagers would have begun to feel uneasy if the situation had continued for much longer. It therefore came as something of a relief when Farazin finally emerged from his self-imposed isolation.
The gathering was held, as the last had been, on the open ground outside the sky-watcher's hut and, as instructed, many of those who came were carrying flags, the coarse material wrapped around wooden poles. The strips of cloth had once been white, but were now varying pale shades of grey or brown - the legacy of the symbols and messages which had been daubed upon them in the past. These markings had all relayed questions, hopes and pleas, and as they faded through the action of the wind and rain, the prayers were sent heavenward until the flags were used again.
'I thought this would be an appropriate time to tell you what I have learnt,'
Farazin informed them, when everyone was present, 'because tonight the Dark Moon will be full.'
After all the recent uncertainty, this news was greeted with nods of approval and expressions of relief, but with no real apprehension. Everyone knew that the other three moons were all less than half full, which meant there was little danger of a new tremor - and it was good to know that the sky-watcher was once more sure about what was happening in the heavens. However, what Farazin went on to say left many of the villagers feeling very uncomfortable.
In essence, this was a more detailed description of what Terrel already knew about the suddenly erratic behaviour of the most enigmatic of the moons, but the sharakan had evidently been no more able to explain these supposedly impossible changes than the seers on Vadanis had been. All Farazin could offer was the vague and - to Terrel - unsatisfactory comment that 'something in the dream-world above' had altered.
'I'm sure the sharaken will work it all out eventually,' the old man concluded, looking round at the rows of puzzled faces. 'The dictates of the lore haven't changed that much yet, and I can advise you now if you're unsure about anything. In the meantime, we can play our part here. This is a time of omens. Pay attention to your dreams tonight, and come to me if there's anything significant in their images.'
'Isn't the Amber Moon new tonight?' someone asked.
'Exactly,' Farazin responded. 'Ordinarily the Amber Moon is the most influential when it comes to configuring our dream space, but it's precisely because it's at its weakest that tonight is important. The Dark Moon is at its strongest, and this is therefore the best opportunity to study its mysteries without interference from the Amber. Who knows, we may even discover its secrets before the sharaken do.' He was smiling as he spoke, and his last words were greeted with muted laughter.
'Is that what the sharakan was hoping to collect when he came here?' Azian asked. 'Our dreams?'
Farazin glanced at his fellow elder, then nodded.
'In a way, yes.'
'Is that why he wanted to see Terrel and Talker?' Cutter asked.
'I suppose so,' the sky-watcher replied, 'but their kind of trading was of no use to him.'
'That's good,' one of the healers' former patients declared. 'We don't want to lose them.'
This remark was greeted with some good-natured laughter and several nods of agreement — which made Terrel feel uncomfortable.
Few of the villagers were aware of his intention to leave them before the year was out. In fact, he'd been growing more and more restless for some time. He'd been in Fenduca for almost four median months now, and in one sense was content enough. His talent for healing and his acceptance into the Mirana family were both sources of comfort and a little pride, but he was aware that he hadn't made any progress towards getting back to his own home. Indeed, he had no real idea how to start going about it. All he knew was that he had to try.
'Why did he want to see our Davi, then?' Frasu, the boy's father, asked.
'I don't know,' the sky-watcher admitted.
Davi had returned home almost as soon as the sharakan had left. The boy had come to no harm during the day and night he'd gone off on his own, and when asked where he had been - and why he'd left in the first place - his answers had been vague and evasive. He'd claimed that he couldn't remember where he'd slept, and explained his absence by saying simply that he'd 'just felt like it'. Frasu and his wife Erena had been too relieved by his return to press him further, and no one else had got much from the child. Davi had resumed his duties as Talker's guide - something that delighted the healer, but did not please the boy's parents. Terrel thought that they believed Talker might be leading their son astray, and he had done his best to persuade them that the partnership was not only worthwhile but also a positive force for good.
There had been a few very minor tremors recently -including one that Farazin had predicted near the full of
the Red and Amber Moons — but there had been no serious repercussions. Nor had there been any more mudslides. With the onset of spring, the weather had been improving steadily, which meant that the ground — even on the abandoned east bank - was becoming drier and less treacherous. However, the warmer air brought with it a huge increase in the number of insects that could bite or sting the unwary, and also made it more difficult to store food for any length of time. Because of this, there had been an increase in minor illnesses.
Terrel and Talker had both been kept busy — and Terrel was glad the blind man had not been deprived of his 'eyes'.
'Will the sharakan come back?' someone asked.
'I've no idea,' Farazin replied honestly, 'but I don't suppose it'll be any time soon. After all, the last visit was over six years ago.'
Terrel happened to be looking at Davi when the sky-watcher gave this answer, and he was not surprised to see the boy smile. Whatever he had told his parents, there was no doubt in Terrel's mind that Davi's absence that day had been deliberate.
'We should prepare the flags now,' Farazin said, 'so that we may dedicate them at the shrine before noon.'
The gathering broke up into family groups, each attending to their prayers. A few were able to make the inscriptions themselves, but most took turns in quietly relating their wishes to the sky-watcher, who transcribed them onto the cloth. It was a time-consuming process, and Terrel heard Farazin grumbling that his fingers were not as nimble as they used to be. He wished he could have offered his help, but although he was more or less fluent in his hosts'
spoken language, he had grasped only
the most rudimentary elements of the Maculian alphabet. So he kept himself apart, feeling like an outsider once more, as the flags were finished. The ceremony was completed when the poles were planted in the earth around the carved stone that acted as a shrine to the Dark Moon.
The banners fluttered and snapped in the wind as Farazin intoned the final words of the ritual. As Terrel saw Kerin and Ysatel look skyward, following the flight of their prayer, he knew they were seeking protection for their unborn child, and he added his own heartfelt plea for the baby's safe arrival.
Ysatel's health remained good as her pregnancy progressed. She was hardly affected by morning sickness, and seemed to be revelling in her condition.
When som
e of the more experienced women told her that she would find the whole process wearisome and frustrating long before she came to term, she just nodded solemnly, then smiled as soon as they were gone. This was her miracle, her chance when all hope had gone - and she was determined that nothing was going to spoil it.
Even Kerin recognized how well she was doing, how robust and clear-eyed she had become, and he was less overprotective now, allowing her to go about her own business. In truth, as she had predicted, this suited him well enough too.
During Farazin's self-imposed absence, Kerin had become the elders' leader by default, and it was he who had suggested and then implemented a plan to replace the fish-pool as soon as possible. This was now ready - a deep basin of solid rock that had been formed beneath a small cliff when a new stream had scoured away
the soil inside. This natural cistern was on the western side of the river, away from the layers of mud, and Kerin had taken advantage of the land's new contours. It had taken only minor adjustments to make the pool perfect. It was now fed by a small waterfall - the stream that had formed it having been diverted - and the exit channels were too shallow to allow any fish to escape.
As yet the pool was empty, but Aylen and Olandis were away at the time of the gathering, seeking out the wolf-fish.
The brothers were not the only villagers missing from the gathering. Cardos, the young man who'd been convinced that the soldiers were responsible for the mudslide, was also absent. No one thought anything of this; he was an impulsive and sometimes wayward individual who often hunted, or visited other villages, on his own. But their attitude changed rapidly that same afternoon, when they found out where he had gone.
The first indication that something was amiss came when the gate in the new fence below Raven's Crag was opened, and a group of soldiers came through. Led by Janizar Yahn, they marched to the natural vantage point at the top of the cliff overlooking the new fish-pool. Once there they could be seen by most of those at work in the river, and by a good number of people in the village itself. One of the closest huts to the fence was the infirmary and, at the sound of swords clashing on shields, Terrel left his work to see what was happening. Talker and Davi came out too, and a few moments later Ysatel strode up the path to join them.
