Under Fragile Stone

by Oisin McGann

  Nayalla and Noogan took first watch, keeping close to the others to conserve their warmth. Mirkrin’s skack shape slowly slunched away as he fell into a deep sleep, but Nayalla let him be. Her stomach ached with hunger and she folded her skack’s claws over her belly. Noogan cupped his hands and blew into them.

  ‘I’m cold to the bone,’ he shivered. ‘Can’t remember ever being this cold before.’

  ‘Tell me about your home,’ Nayalla said to him.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I probably haven’t been there, and I’m curious. And it’ll give you something else to think about.’

  ‘I’m from Brodfan, in Sestina,’ he told her. ‘It’s full of farmers and fishermen, mostly. It’s just a small town with little going on.’

  ‘What’s your favourite bit of it?’ she prompted.

  He shrugged, struggling to find something interesting to say about his home, but it was all so ordinary to him. There was nothing there to compare with the lives of the Myunans.

  ‘There’s a spot under the bridge where you can stand so that there are no reflections on the water because of the bridge’s shadow, and you can see clear to the bottom of the river. On the bottom there’s this head from a statue of a Noranian war hero. The statue stands in the middle of town, and some lads broke the head off it and threw it in the river a few years back. The Noranians never found it. That’s my favourite bit.’

  Nayalla smiled.

  ‘Tell me about the bit of home you hate most.’

  ‘That’d be the statue.’

  They laughed quietly together. Nayalla’s laughter was cut short by a sudden feeling that something else was listening. Like all Myunans, she had keen instincts and put great faith in them. She stood up and looked down the tunnel in the direction they had come. They were only burning two of their torches to conserve the powder, but she did not need them to tell her that there was something waiting back there in the darkness.

  ‘We can’t stay here,’ she said softly. ‘It’s followed us. It’s waiting for us to fall asleep. We need to get to a place we can defend.’

  Noogan looked in the direction that she was staring, but could see nothing.

  ‘That means leaving the water.’

  ‘We can’t stay here anyway,’ she insisted. ‘Come on, wake the others. We have to go.’

  Mirkrin’s flesh was still bruised from the cave-in that had crushed him and he gritted his teeth as he crafted his body into that of a skack. Gazing down at his claws, memories came back to him of the battle at the generator truck at the foot of Absaleth. It seemed so long ago now, and yet only a few days had passed. The tribe would be on its way back now, having left the children and elderly in a haven deep in the mountains. Those of fighting age, he was certain, would be preparing to resist the Noranians’ attempts to mine the mountain. He and Nayalla should have been with them. He could only guess where their children were, but he prayed that they were safe. At least they were not trapped down here.

  ‘You ready?’ Paternasse asked.

  He nodded. The two miners picked up all the bags, the Myunans taking up the front and rear of their little group. They all knew they were weak with hunger and thirst and lack of sleep, but with a powerful predator stalking them, they couldn’t rest until they found a safe place to hole up. They trudged on, Mirkrin keeping his eyes on the passageway behind them.

  ‘Some of this has been carved out,’ Noogan said, as he looked around.

  ‘Aye,’ Paternasse mumbled. ‘And by the same hands. But no pictures … and no care taken to civilise it. Looks like a rush job compared to the other tunnels.’

  ‘Maybe this is the limit of their territory,’ Nayalla speculated.

  ‘Aye, maybe.’ Paternasse was too cold and tired to be very interested.

  They came to a junction. The passageway split off into three separate tunnels.

  ‘Which way now?’ Noogan exclaimed in frustration.

  ‘Does it matter?’ Paternasse grunted. ‘It’s not like we’re going anywhere in partic–’

  He halted in mid-sentence and sniffed the air.

  ‘Do you smell anything?’ he asked them.

  ‘Yes,’ Nayalla drew in a breath. ‘By the gods! That’s … it’s fresh air!’

  ‘Find the draught,’ Paternasse grinned. ‘It’s fresh air all right. Just a whiff, but it’s there! Find where it’s a coming from!’

  It was the centre tunnel. As they walked further down, they could feel the faintest draught on their faces and their pace quickened. There was a dull glow ahead, indistinct but unmistakable. Daylight. They ran towards the light and the tunnel turned a sharp corner and opened into a larger cave. Nayalla, who was in the lead, slowed to a stumble when she saw the source of the light.

  ‘No!’ she screamed. ‘Not again!’

  The others caught up and let out roars of frustration. It was another of the Seneschal’s portals, a narrow, rectangular duct bored horizontally through the stone wall, barely wide enough for a fist. Walking closer, they saw that it was more than just a wall. It was a doorway, but it was sealed from the outside by a massive slab of stone. Judging by the length of the channel, it was three paces thick. Nayalla beat her fists against it, tears streaming down her face.

  ‘We’re going to die here,’ Noogan whimpered, putting his back to the wall and sliding down to the floor.

  ‘This is worse than the darkness,’ Paternasse groaned. ‘It’s like it was put here to torment us. Look at that, the outside is right there! This was a doorway once and someone’s blocked it up. We can’t move it, we can’t dig through it. They’ve killed us as sure as if they’d driven a sword through each of us.’

  ‘Help!’ Nayalla shrieked through the opening. ‘Can anybody hear me? Somebody help us!’

  Noogan stood up beside her and joined in, shouting out through the duct. Mirkrin watched them, anxiously casting his eyes back into the darkness of the cave.

  ‘We sound like we’re in trouble,’ he muttered.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Paternasse squinted at him. ‘We are in bloody trouble.’

  ‘No, I mean to the thing following us. We sound like animals in distress.’

  Paternasse looked long and hard at him.

  ‘Quiet down,’ he said to the others.

  They didn’t hear him over the sound of their own voices.

  ‘Quiet down!’ he barked at them and they looked back at him in surprise.

  ‘It’s like Mirkrin says. We sound like panicked animals. If that monster back there is like any normal predator, it’s going to be attracted to that noise. We sound weak.’

  They all gazed at each other in weary desperation.

  ‘This hole’s not as long as the last one,’ Nayalla said at last. ‘I think I could get a hand out to the other side. Somebody might see it.’

  ‘It’s worth a try,’ Paternasse agreed.

  ‘Maybe we should try it later,’ Noogan rasped.

  ‘Why’s that then?’ Paternasse asked.

  ‘Because there’s something else in here with us.’

  They all fell quiet and in the silence, a skittering sound could be heard. One they recognised immediately. The Seneschal had followed them after all.

  16 PAPPY DIDN’T RAISE NO STINKIN’ SONGBIRDS

  Emos listened as Draegar recounted the story that began with his hunt for Lorkrin and Taya after the Reisenicks had kidnapped them and ended with how he and Rug had come to find themselves at the healer’s house. For an anxious uncle, it was a disturbing tale.

  ‘I should have known better than to let them come along. They have a gift for finding trouble. But I thought it would just be a trip to the cave. What could it hurt to have them with us?’

  He looked over at Rug. He had already heard the stranger’s story, but was curious about the Reisenicks’ interest in him.

  ‘So what’s your part in all this? Why did the Reisenicks pick you up?’

  ‘I didn’t belong,’ Rug replied. ‘That’s all I know
.’

  He self-consciously put his hand on the waist pocket where his nail was nestled. Emos noticed the gesture, but said nothing. The Myunan had been watching Rug since he had joined them, and had seen that the thin man moved stiffly and sometimes looked as if he were uncomfortable, or in pain. The way he held himself was slightly awkward too, and Emos was suspicious of the way he never uncovered his face or hands. That could only mean one of two things: either Rug was deformed in some way that made him ashamed of his appearance, or he was afraid of being recognised, or perhaps even both. His voice was odd too, twangy and brittle, and his smell was unusual. It was part human, but there was something damp and rotten and cold about him. Emos eyed him as the wagon trundled along the muddy track.

  ‘They could be hunting you as much as they are Draegar and the children,’ he told the stranger. ‘Do you know Kalayal Harsq, the exorcist? Have you any idea what’s causing the earth tremors?’

  ‘I don’t know anything,’ Rug insisted, uneasily. ‘I can’t remember who I am, let alone who or what I used to know. I … I think I want to see this cave you were talking about. I couldn’t say why; it’s just a feeling I have.’

  ‘Well, you’ll see the cave,’ Emos said. ‘I don’t know yet what it will cost us. Let’s hope it brings back some memories, eh?’

  ‘It’s a strange affair, altogether,’ Draegar observed. ‘The Reisenicks seem to have lost the run of themselves.’

  ‘Ludditch is no fool.’ Emos shook his head. ‘Whatever he’s planning, he’ll have thought it out. I may be an outcast, but he must know that if the rest of our tribe hear what’s happened to Taya and Lorkrin, they’ll be out for a reckoning. They won’t stand for the children being harmed. Ludditch must be sure that whatever he’s cooking up is going to be worth trouble with the Myunans.’

  Ahead, they saw the junction where their track joined up with the main road to the west. Tall cobrush trees towered either side, forming a dark corridor, which threw a shadow over the road in the dawn light.

  ‘Perhaps Ludditch thinks they’ll be too busy with the Noranians back at Absaleth.’

  ‘I don’t know. I think we’re just a thorn in his side. There’s something bigger going on here, and if Harsq is tied up in it somehow, it can only be bad for everyone else living on this land. Something about this whole situation has got my teeth on edge. The earth tremors are part of it, and they’re definitely Harsq’s doing. He’s hurt the land’s soul.’

  ‘Aye, he’s a blight, that one,’ Draegar muttered. ‘That unholy cur’s going to get his comeuppance one day, and I wouldn’t mind having a hand in it …’

  A groan made them turn to see Tupe opening his eyes and discovering he was bound. He winced as if his head hurt and then looked around. His face twisted into a scowl as he recognised Draegar. It did not take him long to assess his situation.

  ‘Ludditch is going ta have your skins for this!’ he leered.

  ‘Tell us what we need to know and we’ll let you go,’ Emos assured him.

  ‘I’m not tellin’ yuh nothin’.’

  ‘Why is Ludditch after us? What’s it got to do with Absaleth?’ Emos squatted down in front of him.

  ‘You deaf as well as ugly, yuh diseased freak? You’ll get nothin’ from me.’

  Emos took the man’s jaw in his hand.

  ‘We’ve met before, haven’t we?’

  ‘Yeah, I know you. You’re Harprag. You can melt wood and metal an’ stuff with your fingers. Saw you do some work in Ainsdale once.’

  ‘I can do the same to the bones in your face.’

  ‘Fancy that. I ain’t talkin’. If you’re goin’ to torture me, get on an’ do it. Otherwise, get out o’ my hair. Like I say, I know you. You Myunans are all the same. Your wills’re as soft as your flesh. You want to show me pain? You want to cut me up? Go on ahead. My pappy didn’t raise no stinkin’ songbirds. Ludditch is my second and third cousin and my eldest son’s uncle. Anything you do to me, he’ll visit on you and yours. And I’d say he’ll give those cubs of yours some special treatment.’

  Emos’s face turned to stone and he grabbed the Reisenick by the scruff of his jerkin, hauling him to his feet.

  ‘I’m telling you now,’ he growled into the clansman’s face. ‘Ludditch has already earned your tribe more grief than you’d believe, grief I’ll be happy to deliver. And I promise you that what he’s started here, I’m going to finish. You tell that to your second and third cousin when you see him.’

  Lifting the Reisenick onto his toes, Emos shoved him backwards over the side of the truck, his bound body hitting the ground with a heavy thud and rolling, the clansman crying out in pain as he tumbled into the undergrowth.

  ‘Probably should’ve kept hold of him,’ Draegar commented.

  ‘He wasn’t going to give us anything. And I’ve no stomach for torture.’

  ‘Might have been useful all the same,’ the Parsinor shrugged.

  ‘Let’s just get to the cave. We can worry about Ludditch and his lot once we’ve found Nayalla and Mirkrin.’

  ‘That reminds me,’ Draegar frowned. ‘The children were telling me something about Ludditch while we were walking to the storyhouse …’

  He was distracted by the sudden appearance of two large bats over the treetops. They were wearing backpacks.

  ‘Emos!’

  The two men stood up and gaped. Taya and Lorkrin banked and came in from behind.

  ‘Turn around!’ Lorkrin shouted. ‘You have to turn back!’

  ‘Come down out of there right now!’ Emos called to them. ‘I’ve been going out of my mind worrying about you two. Are you all right?’

  ‘Ludditch is coming!’ Taya yelled at them. ‘He’s right down the road!’

  Emos’s face dropped and he swivelled to face forwards as Jube pulled the wagon out of the forest track and onto the well-worn mud of the westbound road. Down the road to their left, other trucks were visible through the thin morning mist.

  ‘Jube!’ Emos barked.

  ‘I see them,’ the miner replied, and brought the wagon to a skidding halt.

  ‘No! Don’t stop!’ Emos shouted. ‘They’ve seen us now. Put your foot down!’

  Even as Jube stamped on the accelerator, Khassiel’s wagon pulled out behind them and she and Cullum reacted immediately. With the Forward-Batterer taking the controls, she swung out the door and up onto the back of the truck, taking cover behind a crate and loading her crossbow. Cullum gunned the engine and took off after Jube. Emos swore and looked back up at Taya and Lorkrin, waving them down.

  ‘Keep your shapes!’ he told them as they landed on the flatbed, and he hugged them both tightly. He held them at arm’s length and examined them for any signs of injury. Apart from some bruises, they seemed fine. They started to talk excitedly, but he held up his hand to silence them.

  ‘You can tell me all about it later,’ he said. ‘We’re in trouble here. Be ready to fly again if I tell you. Until then, stay down.’

  Draegar picked them both up and embraced them with a growl.

  ‘I swear, you take years off my life, the pair of you!’

  He put them down and Rug greeted them shyly, patting them both on the heads. Draegar drew his sword and Emos picked up one of the blowpipes he had taken. Engined wagons had many advantages over horses and other animals: they didn’t tire, they didn’t need feeding when you weren’t using them, they carried more and made less mess. But there wasn’t a truck in existence that could outpace a horse and the Reisenicks had come prepared. The six clansmen on horseback raced towards them.

  They didn’t see Khassiel until it was too late. A crossbow bolt caught the first one in the chest and he toppled backwards off his mount. Before they had passed the equipment truck, she had reloaded and put a bolt through the head of a second man. Two of the others lifted their blowpipes, but she ducked in time to dodge the darts. Cullum swerved suddenly and collided with one of the attackers, knocking the horse onto its side and throwing the rider. Two others were dri
ven off the road and into the trees.

  The last one galloped towards Jube’s wagon, his blowpipe raised to his mouth. Rug, who had dropped to the boards when the rider approached, looked up to find himself staring straight into the horse’s face. He yelped in fright and lashed out with his fist, catching the horse on the side of the head. The animal staggered sideways, stunned by the blow, and Emos, taken aback by the thin man’s strength, seized the chance to shoot a dart into the rider’s leg. But it landed harmlessly in the man’s knife sheath. The Myunan ducked down behind Draegar, who was using his armour-plated forearms to cover his own face and chest. The clansman took aim again, blasting a breath through the pipe, but the dart bounced harmlessly off the Parsinor’s shoulder. The Reisenick drew alongside, quickly reloading his weapon. The remaining two burst out of the trees to one side and goaded their horses on, taking turns to fire darts at Khassiel and keep her from aiming her crossbow. Cullum weaved from side to side to hold them at bay.

  The Reisenick alongside the front wagon tried to take aim at Draegar’s upper arms, which had no armour. But as he levelled the pipe, Draegar turned his back and crouched down, showing only his hinged shell. The rider cursed and pulled back for a clearer shot. Jube veered suddenly, forcing the Reisenick to fall back behind the truck. As he did, Emos stood up from behind the Parsinor and fired a dart that struck the rider square in the chest. The man pulled the dart free, but was already losing consciousness. Emos slipped another dart into his mouth, raised the tube and landed the second projectile right next to the last one, finishing the job. The Reisenick toppled from his saddle and crashed to the ground, only narrowly escaping being run over by Cullum.

  One of the remaining riders galloped forward, blowpipe raised, but his comrade made the mistake of giving Khassiel time to take aim over the top of the cab. She fired a bolt into the small of the advancing rider’s back. He fell from his horse and tumbled into the trees. The last horseman hung down the side of his horse, using his mount’s body as a shield. From under the animal’s neck, he fired a shot at Emos, who dived for cover. Draegar picked up one of the planks of wood in the back of the truck and hurled it like a javelin between the horse’s front legs. The beast’s legs caught on it and it crashed to the ground, crushing its rider beneath it.