Silver Road (The Shifting Tides Book 2)

by James Maxwell

  Trying to ignore the city folk scurrying about the square – there were so many of them! – Liana bent further over the pool and washed the mud from her face. She then straightened and set her jaw with determination as she scanned the area.

  She wasn’t far from Phalesia’s main entry gate, and had headed directly for the basin as soon as she’d seen it so that she could check her appearance. So far no one had pointed at her and screamed. She was managing to blend in. There was just one piece of her disguise left, the most critical part of all.

  She had been considering this idea ever since the loss of her parents. Eldren were close, but she wasn’t one of them. She couldn’t change. She was more like the humans.

  There had been a brief moment, when Zachary and Aella had taken her in, showing her love and warmth, giving her a home for as long as she wanted it, when she’d believed she might be accepted. Dion had been kind to her, and shown her that she wasn’t the only one struggling to embrace the beast within. Eiric had seemed to like her.

  But then came the attack.

  Aella was now lost, turned while defending Liana, who because of her own fear of changing wouldn’t defend herself. Racked by grief, Zachary had vanished after his wife, although it was clear that the only choice he had was to end her life. Eiric had torn away the necklace he’d given her, a gift that had made her happier than he could know. He’d turned his back on her.

  She now had no choice but to find a new path. Life among humans would be difficult, but unlike eldren they valued privacy and individual destiny. Zachary always said that of all the Galean peoples, Phalesians were the friendliest toward eldren, which was why she’d chosen this city over Xanthos. Eventually, she would find her place.

  With her thoughts on the final element of her disguise, Liana left the square, following a narrow street that opened onto the avenue that was the lower city’s main thoroughfare. She kept to the edge of the street, which was clearer than the center because of the filth and garbage in the gutter. Trying to emulate the city folk around her she walked briskly, with purpose, even though she only vaguely knew where she would find what it was she needed.

  Her eyes alighted on a strip of market stalls ahead, and she slowed as she approached. The vendors all called out for her to inspect their wares: ceramics for her table, powders for her skin, blankets for her bed. Liana saw that the other women scanning the stalls were ignoring the cries of the vendors, so she did the same.

  At the fourth stall she stopped.

  The old man with a wispy white beard was selling trinkets: bracelets and earrings, rings and decorated cups, along with small statues of gods and goddesses. Liana scanned the array but couldn’t find what she was looking for. She was about to leave when the old vendor finished a conversation with a woman his own age and smiled down at her.

  ‘If you tell me what you’re looking for, young lady, I might be able to help you.’

  Liana took a deep breath as she turned to face him. When she spoke, her voice initially quavered, but grew in resolve as she went on. She could do this.

  ‘I’m . . . I’m looking . . .’ She cleared her throat. ‘I’m looking for a necklace.’

  She touched her bare throat, as if to feel for something, only to discover it now missing.

  His eyes creased with sympathy. ‘Lose it, did you? Get it stolen?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said.

  Sympathy became mirth. ‘Well? Which is it?’

  ‘I lost it.’ Liana looked down.

  ‘Let me guess . . .’ He made a show of pondering. ‘Copper?’

  She nodded.

  He grinned. ‘I’m a man of iron, myself.’ He indicated his chain of black metal links supporting a medallion imprinted with a hammer. ‘It’s no wonder I’m still working at my age.’ He let it fall and shrugged. ‘Silver and I’d have wealth and fortune. Iron says I know how to make things, but it doesn’t mean I’m good with the money I make.’ He barked a laugh.

  ‘Can . . . Can you help me?’

  ‘I can’t, but my brother can. Unlike me he’s a true artist, a man of copper. He’ll be able to help you.’

  ‘Where can I find him?’

  Liana had to get a necklace or suspicion would fall upon her. Everyone knew that eldren didn’t like pure metal, and couldn’t willingly touch it, and the wise men at the temples – magi, she remembered they were called – were likely aware that an eldran couldn’t change shape when confined by metal. Perhaps the practice was a legacy of the war between the Aleutheans and the eldren long ago. At any rate, it made it difficult for an eldran to hide among them.

  With a necklace, despite her reddish hair and lithe frame, she would be accepted as human.

  ‘Just head further along the avenue, in the direction of the upper city. Before the steps, turn left, and his house is the third along. Has an oversized iron chain out the front, you can’t miss it. His name is Ambrose.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Liana said.

  ‘Good luck.’

  She left the vendor behind, thinking that the exchange had turned out better than she’d hoped it would. If all the city folk were as amiable, she might like it in Phalesia. Perhaps, like the late queen of Xanthos, she would find a human husband one day and have children . . .

  Following the directions, she turned off the avenue and soon found the house with the iron chain out the front. Steeling herself, she boldly approached the open door and called out.

  ‘What is it?’ A fat man with a moustache and beard covering his mouth eventually came to the doorway. He had deep-set eyes, a curl to his lip, and a bald head. A leather apron covered his wide belly and he held a little hammer that was like a child’s toy in his massive hand.

  He looked Liana up and down, sizing her up immediately. ‘I’m not sure if I can help you.’

  ‘Please.’ Liana swallowed. He wasn’t as friendly as the old man at the market stall. ‘Are you Ambrose?’

  He frowned. ‘I am.’

  ‘I need a necklace.’

  ‘Silver? Copper?’ He scratched at his neck. ‘I’m guessing copper.’

  ‘I don’t want it to be pure,’ Liana said. ‘A mixture of metals.’

  His scowl deepened. ‘The priests say the metal should be pure.’ He sighed when he saw Liana’s set jaw. ‘Bronze, then. Copper and tin alloy. I have one ready-made, but there’s a flaw. And you won’t have the medallion to go with it, not unless you’ll take copper.’

  ‘Just the necklace will do,’ Liana said.

  He gave a gruff nod. ‘Come in, then.’

  It was a strange moment for Liana as she crossed the threshold and for the first time entered a human dwelling. Eldren talked, of course, and some had visited Phalesia several times. But following the jeweler, as she passed through the furnished room at the front, traveled down a hall, and headed to the side chamber that was evidently a workshop, Liana felt nervous. She had a ceiling over her head. There were stone walls on all sides, formed of blocks that had been cut and fashioned with metal tools. She could smell the vague aromas of human food and already the presence of metal was making her skin itch.

  Ambrose glanced behind to make sure she was keeping up. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ she said. ‘But perhaps I can stay here, rather than follow you to the workshop?’

  He made a non-committal sound and rounded the corner, leaving Liana in the communal cooking and eating room. She heard sounds of him rummaging around inside and then he returned a moment later.

  ‘Here you go,’ he said, holding up a necklace formed of delicate bronze hoops. He ran the chain through his fingers until he came to a link that was misshapen. ‘There’s the flaw. I tried fixing it but the metal’s too weak. It’ll hold, provided you don’t pull too hard. It’s more about the appearance, but’—he ran his eyes over her, taking in the grubby tunic and uncombed hair—‘I’m guessing in your case the lower price will help. Let’s see if it fits.’

  Ambrose leaned in close to her and she smelled his sweat
as he fastened the chain around her neck. He then stood back and nodded.

  ‘Not bad,’ he said. ‘Let’s talk about payment.’

  Liana looked up to meet his eyes. ‘I don’t have any money.’

  His nostrils flared and he gritted his jaw as his body tensed. As he drew in a breath, she saw a vein in his neck sticking out and thought for a moment he might strike her, but instead he let out the breath and spoke in a voice like rolling gravel. ‘Give me the necklace’—he held out his hand—‘and get out. Right now, and don’t come back.’

  ‘Please, there must be a way,’ she pleaded. ‘I need it. Let me work for you. I’ll do anything.’

  The jeweler paused for a minute and glanced from side to side. He tilted his head, considering. Stroking his moustache and beard, he reached around and slowly untied the leather apron covering his girth. He kept his eyes on Liana, as if waiting for her to balk, but she merely frowned, puzzled.

  He tossed the apron to the side and stretched. ‘How old are you?’ he asked.

  ‘Nearly . . . Nearly nineteen.’

  ‘You sure you want to do this?’

  Liana nodded.

  He now reached out and rested his meaty fingers on her chin. Lifting her head, he leaned forward, and before she knew what he was doing, his lips were on hers and he was kissing her.

  Liana didn’t know what to do. It was the last thing she expected to happen. She froze, unresisting, wide-eyed and terrified.

  Ambrose broke the kiss and met her eyes, gauging her reaction.

  As Liana looked up at him, a terrible sound split the silence.

  The snarl was utterly strange even to her. It was the bestial cry of a cornered animal, trapped but willing to fight back. The jeweler’s eyes shot wide open and he suddenly looked afraid.

  ‘What . . . What are you?’

  A rumble now came from deep within Liana’s chest. Eyes narrowed, she stared into the man’s face as he began to slowly back away. ‘Go,’ he said. ‘Get out of here.’ His voice rose to a shrill scream. ‘Go!’

  Townsfolk in a bewildering array of costumes passed the striking red-haired young woman with the shining necklace. A radiant sun shone down from overhead and with no shade in the street the heat bounced back, reflected by the pale stones underfoot. Liana walked in a daze, her task accomplished, but wondering at the wild beast that lurked inside her.

  She also had no plan for what she should do next.

  She’d heard that humans had occupations, but that most of them required years of training and were performed by men. She had seen the priestesses though, in their smart uniforms, given respect wherever they traveled. Aella had thought she would make a good healer, and she’d heard that it was the priests and priestesses who learned the healing arts. Perhaps she could become a priestess? Other women sat on stools beside the avenue and worked with needle and thread. Liana had sewn clothing back in the Village, but she was worried that the women’s patterns and stitches looked complicated, and she wouldn’t be able to work with iron needles.

  Peering into the open doorway of a house as she passed she saw an old weaver with a loom, passing a thread horizontally through a rainbow of strands and then clamping it all down before beginning on the next row. She knew what it was from the stories, and guessed the weaver was making a mat or a carpet, but it looked far too difficult for her. She supposed it was another trade that required a large amount of skill. Would the woman teach her? Even as she thought of it, the weaver looked up and noticed Liana’s attention, directing a fierce scowl at her that sent her walking hurriedly away.

  Reaching the end of the avenue, Liana climbed steps that felt like they would never end. The houses on both sides were grander, with more white stone used in their construction and fewer of the mud bricks she’d seen in the lower city.

  Finally cresting the end of the steps, her mouth dropped open when she saw she was in another square, similar to the one with the water-filled basin, but containing a huge stone statue of an old man. His face was noble and wise and he held two tablets to his chest while his free arm pointed into the distance.

  None of the other city folk making their way between the upper and lower city paid it any attention at all. With an effort she tore her attention away from the statue and kept moving.

  Another avenue beckoned, and she once again tried to copy the pace of the Phalesians. She knew enough not to stare, but surreptitiously she tried to guess their occupations as they went about their business.

  The consuls were easy; they were the men in white tunics and were generally old, with gray or white hair and lines of concern written across their foreheads. They mostly walked in groups of two or more and at all times appeared to be deep in discussion, making points with hand gestures. Mothers with children in tow were even easier, as were fishermen and soldiers, priests and beggars. But there were many others whose role she couldn’t begin to hazard a guess at. They were dressed in finery or poor clothing, sometimes carrying metal tools or baskets of goods. She wondered if she’d ever feel at home in this strange place.

  The street she was following was smaller than the broad avenue she’d left behind, connecting the city gates and the endless stairs, but it was even more filled with people, like an endless stream of ants crossing a stick from one leaf to another. Hoping that at some point inspiration would strike, and she would think of an occupation that might suit her, she reached the street’s end, heading toward the upper city, but couldn’t see what was to come through the press of people.

  Trying not to feel overwhelmed by the sheer number of humans bustling to and fro, she at least began to relax about being spotted. With so many people around, and such incredible variety of physical appearance and clothing, there was little chance that she would be singled out as different.

  Then she saw that the path dropped away in a series of glistening marble steps, broad and wide. Despite the press of people against her back, she stopped and stared, and this time she was so consumed by what she was seeing that her awareness of the crowd melted away.

  An immense rectangular area opened up ahead, occupying a large portion of the city’s available space. It was big enough that even the volume of people entering was accommodated easily, perhaps helped along by the fact that for every dozen people who descended the steps another dozen ascended in the opposite direction, creating a constant flow in and out of the plaza. The stones of the floor were paved in alternating rose and tan colors, creating a decorative pattern. A market containing dozens of rows of stalls filled the end closest to the harbor, and as she lifted her gaze further still she could see deep blue water and fishing boats.

  There were wide steps in front of her and along the rectangle’s entire left side, and now the huge temples drew her attention. City folk climbed the steps and followed pathways that forked as they led to the shining structures with wide circular columns and triangular roofs. The largest of them all was a long building with a stone statue outside that also held two stone tablets but made the statue she’d seen earlier look tiny.

  On the right she could see high cliffs and a plateau on the summit of a broken peak. A cluster of people appeared to be gathering at the base of the cliff, near the stairway cut into the stone. Turning further she saw a region of houses and hills, almost out of view.

  She had heard stories of this place, but she had never believed it was as big as they’d said it was.

  ‘The agora,’ she whispered.

  15

  At that moment Liana felt a bump from behind as the press of the crowd knocked her forward. Stumbling into the stair in front, she almost fell, but arrested her motion and was faced with no choice but continuing on with the mob. Carried along by their numbers, she felt adrift, like a leaf floating on the river. But rather than disperse, as she’d expected, the throng continued past the agora. She realized that the voices she was hearing were excited. Some people sounded angry, others curious, but everyone was heading in the same direction, and they were eager to reach their
destination quickly.

  Skirting the market, the stream of people continued all the way to the steep cliff at the right-hand edge of the embankment. They joined the crowd already there and Liana now realized that everyone had come to watch something happening at the top of the cliff, where an array of stone columns was the only thing she could make out from her position.

  Suddenly the crowd began to shift and move, as some force shuffled the onlookers. Liana felt pressure and turned, seeing a column of more than twenty soldiers crying out for people to stand clear as they pushed through. Along with the people around her, she backed away, pressing herself against the woman behind her to give the menacing men as much space as possible. Finally the soldiers were through, and their officer then formed them up in a line in front of the steps.

  ‘Back!’ he cried. ‘Everybody back!’

  Occasionally glancing up at the summit high above, the officer wasn’t satisfied until the crowd had cleared a wide space from the steep rocky slope. He then left a dozen soldiers to keep order and led the remainder up the steps cut into the cliff. Soon everyone present was watching them climb.

  Liana noticed that some of the men carried stout wooden poles, leaned against their shoulders like spears. She wondered what they were doing. One soldier hefted a heavy iron box, carrying it with both arms all the way to the summit.

  Then the soldiers had made it to the top, and the crowd grew restless. The time trickled past and still Liana couldn’t understand what had made the people so curious, and why some of them were so angry.

  ‘Look out!’ a strong voice cried. ‘Stand back!’

  Along with everyone around her, Liana held her breath.

  And then it happened.

  An extremely heavy golden object, a chest, rolled and prodded by sweating and grunting soldiers, approached the edge of the plateau. It reached the precipice and wavered, leaning out and back in, with hundreds of eyes on it, tensed, everybody holding their breath.