Shadow Singer

by Marcia J. Bennett

  She moved deeper into the marketplace, her own hunger stirred by the various odors wafting out of the inns and open-air cooking stalls. Out of habit, she had brought her chalks along, but she was not ready to stop and ply her trade; nor was she willing to part with one of the two rings she had taken from the Ni-lach treasure chests.

  She looked down at her right hand. The bird images carved into the shell on top of the rings caught at colors, folding them one inside the other until the birds seemed to move in the light. No, she thought. You I keep. If I have not found Screech in a little while, I will do some chalking, just enough to earn a meal, then I’ll go looking again.

  Three hours later, Poco finally gave in to hunger. She had lost Ssaal-lr’s trail and was beginning to work her way out of the tangle of streets surrounding the marketplace. She stopped, turned, and went back the way she had come. She chose a section of the slate-walk that was large enough to work yet out of the middle of traffic.

  She quickly slid her chalks from her pouch and began to draw. She chose a sea draak for her subject, and as she drew, she sang one of the songs of the Draak Watch, a loose organization of Ni who used their voices to control draak and keep them away from the homes of Ni and the croplands of men.

  At one time no village or holding had been without at least one or two members of the Draak Watch; but now they were gone and lands that once had been tilled and planted had gone back to wilderness.

  Poco knew seven different songs used by the Draak Watch. The words were in Ni, but she had mastered them easily. Her song quickly drew a crowd.

  She was aware of the people standing around her, but she did not look up. As the last words of the song floated into the air, Poco concentrated on the picture before her. The draak moved its head as if searching for the singer who had called it from the depths. It was alive… one moment… two… then the silence was broken by hands clapping, and the draak stilled.

  Poco looked up, wondering if she alone had seen the draak move. She searched the faces above, looking for that one small flicker of surprise. But no—no one had seen the draak live.

  She looked down at the picture. Dhal would have seen, she thought. Why not others? Is it our Ni blood?

  “Another song,” someone in the crowd called out.

  “Yes, another, please.”

  Poco glanced at the few coins which had been dropped onto her cloth bag; not enough for a good meal. She nodded and moved over to a smaller piece of slate nearby.

  She sang again, chalking a picture of a ship. The crowd responded with more coins. Poco decided she had enough money for a meal and started to gather her chalks.

  Suddenly a hand dropped onto her shoulder. “Singer?”

  Poco looked up. The man standing behind her was tall and muscular. His brown hair was trimmed neatly; his beard was shaped to a point a finger’s length below his chin. He wore the dress of a sailor; sandals, knee-length pants, a loose-fitting, white shirt, and a weapons belt. But Poco knew the man had another trade, for no sailor ever had hands so well-tended. Thief or cardman, she thought.

  The man knelt beside her. “Someone told me that you are looking for a derkat.”

  Poco did not like the way the man’s dark eyes searched her face. She hesitated before answering. “You have seen one?”

  “Better than that,” he responded. “I know where you can find him. I saw him go into Eyson’s Tavern yesterday. He never came out.”

  “Was he alone?”

  “No. He was with a man.”

  “How do you know he never came out?” Poco asked.

  “I followed him,” the man answered. “I was curious. You do not see a derkat in Port Sulta every day.”

  “Do you know what happened to him?” Poco asked, wondering when the man would demand money for the rest of the information he had.

  “The derkat got into a fight with three men who did not approve of serving animals in the tavern. He killed one of them before the other two knocked him senseless. I understand that sar Eyson is holding him in the cellar.”

  Poco stiffened at the word “animal” being used to refer to derkat. She tried to hide her anger as she looked at the man. “There was a death and the authorities were not called?”

  The man shrugged, his grin supporting Poco’s guess that he was not just the curious spectator he had claimed to be. “Sometimes it is wiser to leave the authorities out of things,” he said in a lower voice. “The man who was killed was a loner. His friends were easily bought off. Verg sar Eyson plans to make a profit by selling the derkat to someone in Annaroth, an exotic-animal importer named Arre. Ever heard of him?”

  Poco nodded. “Do you know how much sar Eyson hopes to get for the derkat?”

  “I heard that the price was one hundred marks.”

  “You seem to know a lot about all of this. What is your percentage?”

  The man hesitated, then shrugged. “Twenty percent of any bid over seventy-five marks. Eyson can sell him to Arre, but it would mean time and waiting. If he can get a buyer here in Port Sulta, so much the better. Does your pet mean that much to you?”

  “He does,” Poco admitted. “But I haven’t much money.”

  The man glanced down at the rings on Poco’s right hand. “But you do have something to trade,” he said.

  “Perhaps.” Poco stood. “I suppose you can tell me where Eyson’s Tavern is?”

  The man’s smile showed strong, white teeth, and his quick look of appraisal left nothing in doubt: He liked what he saw and was not shy about making it evident. “I can tell you, Singer, but I would rather show you.”

  Poco deftly sidestepped his hand and shouldered her chalk pouch. “Good,” she said. “Then you can lead the way.”

  The man’s smile faded. The cool, steady look he gave her made Poco feel uneasy. A man-snake if ever I met one, she thought.

  The man turned without a word and headed back through the marketplace. Poco kept pace with him, walking to his left and slightly behind, where she could keep her eye on him.

  “Do you have a name?” she asked.

  The man slowed and glanced back at her. “Jesh.”

  “Do you work for sar Eyson very often?”

  “Off and on.”

  “You dress like a sailor, but you have the hands of a cardman. Do you have a profession?”

  Jesh turned and continued walking, not once pausing to see if she followed him.

  The man-snake does not like questions, she thought. Screech, what have you gotten us into? Poco checked the knife hidden in her tunic sleeve; she had a feeling she was going to need it before long.

  They left the marketplace and turned south toward the docks. The Street of Taverns was narrow and crowded with day traffic. The majority of small shops that snuggled in between the taverns and inns catered to a man’s appetite, offering exotic foods, wines, gaming, and bodily pleasures. Poco tried to disregard the leers of the men lounging in the doorways of the shops and taverns, but their lewd comments were not so easily ignored, and soon her face warmed with color. She had known of streets like this in Port Bhalvar, but she sensibly had avoided them.

  Suddenly someone bumped into her from behind. Poco turned, but before she could draw her knife Jesh was standing at her shoulder, glaring at the bearded man who had appeared out of nowhere.

  “Something you want?” Jesh growled at the man.

  The stranger’s eyes widened as he shook his head. “No, Jesh. No, nothing. I just thought I knew her. I was—”

  Jesh looked at the man, then with a tip of his head, ordered the man to leave.

  The man scuttled away, heading for the nearest doorway.

  Poco turned and found Jesh watching her. His glance fell to where her hand still hovered by her knife hilt.

  “Stay closer to me and you won’t need that,” he said.

  “How much farther?” she asked.

  “We are almost there,” he replied.

  As they continued on, Poco looked from one side of the street to the
other, suddenly wishing she had not been so independent and had brought Dhal along.

  Jesh stopped before a large, log building. Weathered to a light gray color, it reminded Poco of a water draak carcass she had seen on the banks of the Gadrocci river near Janchee, its bleached bones sticking skyward. Wooden steps led up to a porch where a small group of dockside loungers sat enjoying an early drink. Several of the men spoke to Jesh as he climbed the steps, but he merely nodded and kept walking. At the main doors he stepped aside, indicating that Poco should precede him.

  Poco hesitated, then went in. Jesh followed close behind. She felt his hand drop onto her shoulder, steering her to the right.

  “Over there,” he said. “Verg is probably in his office.”

  Poco shrugged away from his hand and walked across the room. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the semidarkness of the interior. At that moment, the dingy eating hall was empty, but after supper hour the room would fill with drinkers and gamblers and those looking for excitement.

  When they reached the other side of the room, Jesh stopped at a door and knocked. A voice from inside told him to enter.

  Poco stepped aside as Jesh reached for the doorknob. “You first,” she said.

  “You don’t trust me,” he said, smiling.

  “I trust my instincts, and they tell me to let you go in first.”

  “All right, I’ll go first, and when you are satisfied that it is safe, follow.”

  Jesh opened the door, then pushed it all the way back to the wall so Poco could see inside. Then she followed him through the doorway and quickly glanced around. The room was empty but for Jesh and a man who sat behind a large desk on the other side of the room.

  Verg sar Eyson stood and came around the end of the desk. He was dressed in a white shirt, a blue overvest, and a pair of dark pants. He was heavyset and balding, and he had the blotchy face of a man who liked to drink. He stopped in front of Poco, his heavy-lidded eyes sparkling with interest. “What have you brought me this time, Jesh?”

  “Someone who is interested in finding a certain derkat,” Jesh replied. “Singer, this is Verg sar Eyson, the owner of this establishment.”

  “Do you have a name, Singer?” Verg asked.

  “My name is Pocalina.”

  Verg looked Poco up and down with the expression of a man checking over merchandise for sale. Poco was accustomed to such rude appraisals, and stifled her disgust by reminding herself that Ssaal-lr’s life might depend upon her convincing this man to trade with her.

  Sar Eyson leaned back against his desk. “So, you have an interest in the derkat I am holding.”

  “Yes,” Poco answered.

  Sar Eyson nodded and returned to his chair, sitting down heavily. “What kind of an interest?”

  “He is a friend. I want him freed.”

  Verg glanced at Jesh, who was leaning against the wall to Poco’s right. When Verg looked at Poco again, his glance went from her head to her toes and back to her face, assessing.

  “Has Jesh told you what the derkat did?” Verg asked.

  “He said that he killed a man.”

  “You say that as if you do not believe it, Singer.”

  “Oh, I believe it,” Poco said. “But I would bet that if he killed someone, he had just cause.”

  Verg frowned. “Well, he did kill a man, and he caused a lot of damage while he was about it! Damage that someone has to pay for. Are you willing to pay?”

  Careful, Poco thought, careful. “How much?” she asked.

  “One hundred marks should cover it.”

  “I don’t have one hundred marks, but I have something that is worth that much.” Poco held up her right hand, showing him the ring on her middle finger. She had carefully removed the second ring during her walk from the marketplace.

  “It is made by the Ni-lach and is worth three times what you are asking,” she said.

  Verg held out his hand. “Let me see it.”

  “First I want to see Screech.”

  “Screech?”

  “The derkat,” Poco answered.

  “Damn good name for him,” Jesh observed. “Those noises he makes are enough to stir a herd of draak. We had to knock him out just to get some sleep last night.”

  Poco felt her heart clench. She turned to Jesh. “I want to see him, then we can talk about a trade!”

  Verg stood and moved around the desk. “All right, come on. He is in the cellar. Jesh, you had better come along too, just in case he decides to give us trouble.”

  Poco followed Verg down an unlighted corridor that ended in the tavern kitchens, where a door led to the cellar. Verg and Jesh each lighted a candle to take down into the darkness. Poco walked between them, uneasy and all too aware of the danger of a trap.

  Verg stopped before a large door at the bottom of the steps and slid back the heavy bolt. Poco followed him into a dark room; she was acutely aware of Jesh close behind her.

  Several stools and a small table stood in the center of the room. On the table sat an oil lamp, which Verg lighted with his candle. Poco looked around the room, but saw nothing but a jumble of empty wooden-slat crates and a pile of loose sacks. Then something moved in the far corner, and yellow eyes shone out of the shadows.

  “Screech?” Poco said, starting toward the corner.

  A hand caught her arm, holding her back. “Better be careful, Singer,” Jesh said. “If he is as mad right now as he was last night, he might not recognize you as a friend.”

  “Let me go!” Poco’s command was reinforced by the point of her knife, pressed against Jesh’s stomach.

  Jesh released her and raised his hands in a gesture of peace as he backed away. “Easy, Singer. I was just trying to warn you.”

  Poco backed toward the corner. The sound of chains clanking against the floor made her turn, and she saw that Screech was trying to move. The short chains linking his wrists and ankles prevented him from rising.

  Screech coughed a greeting.

  Poco answered in kind. “Stay quiet, friend,” she said, as she touched his shoulder. “I am going to try to buy your freedom.”

  Suddenly Poco felt the sharp prick of claws in her left leg. She looked down and saw Screech’s fingers moving in sign language. She tried to read his signing, but the shadows made it difficult.

  “…..me. Wants Healer. Watching us……. Used me to……... Don’t trust them. …...Ni-Lach——”

  “All right, Singer!” Verg snapped. “You have seen him. Now let us do some trading.”

  Poco turned. “He is hurt. I want some light to see if—”

  “No! You’ve seen him! He is alive, and if you want him to stay that way, you will let me see your ring. Right now! Jesh, bring her over here!”

  Poco returned to the table before Jesh could act on Verg’s orders. She slipped her knife back into her wrist sheath and pulled the ring from her finger.

  Verg looked the ring over carefully, holding it to the lantern light. Then he looked up. “Is this the only piece of Ni jewelry you own?”

  “It is worth more than you are asking,” Poco replied.

  “Yes,” Verg said, “it probably is. But seeing this and the armband your pet was wearing makes me wonder what other valuables you and your boyfriend possess—you know, the one who goes around with his head covered. You make quite a trio: a derkat, a chalk artist, and—who is your other friend, Singer? We are most curious, Jesh and I. We have even made bets on his parentage. According to one of the merchants we talked to, your hooded friend has the eyes of a Ni.”

  Poco cursed silently to herself, realizing that she and Dhal had been watched since their arrival in Port Sulta. And she knew why: Because of the few pieces of Ni jewelry they had used in trade that first week.

  She pulled her knife and threw herself at Verg. Catching his arm, she jerked him forward a step. As he tried to regain his balance, she ducked around behind him and stuck her knife into his side.

  “Stand still!” she yelled at Jesh, who had started toward
her. “Stand still or I kill him!”

  Jesh came to a lurching stop, his leg bumping the table. The lantern started to tip over. Verg lunged forward to catch it.

  Poco felt her knife drag across something soft. Verg cried out; as he fell over a stool, one of his legs slammed into Poco’s side. Before she could recover her balance, Jesh grabbed her knife hand and slammed her up against the nearest wall.

  Poco heard Ssaal-lr’s scream of rage just before her head struck the stone wall.

  Chapter 5

  POCO’S FIRST AWARENESS WAS OF COLD, THEN OF PAIN in the back of her head. For a moment she could not remember where she was. She started to roll over and accuse Dhal of taking all the blankets, when she heard voices. She opened her eyes and saw Jesh standing with his back to her. She swallowed convulsively as everything came back to her.

  She took a few seconds to get herself under control. When she opened her eyes again, she saw that Jesh was looking over a piece of clothing, carefully searching pockets and hems with long, nimble fingers. Poco knew that the clothes he was searching were hers, for she was stripped to the skin and could feel the cold stone beneath her back, buttocks, and legs. Her lack of clothing made her feel vulnerable so she searched for a quick way out.

  She rolled her head to the side, careful not to alert either of the men to her return to consciousness. She looked under the table, past the chair upon which Verg sat, and found a pair of yellow eyes watching her.

  Seeing that she was awake, Screech made a small movement with his head, indicating that he wanted her to remain still.

  “Find anything?” Verg asked.

  Jesh dropped Poco’s pants onto the table. “Nothing. Have you checked the pouch she carried?”

  “Yes. Just chalks and a few coins. Let me see that necklace she was wearing.”

  “It is made of wood,” Jesh said, handing it to Verg. “But it is Ni. I can tell that stuff anywhere. Personally, I think the rings are the best of the lot, including the armband the derkat was wearing.”

  “I agree.” There was a moment or two of silence, then Verg spoke again. “I wish we could find their new camp. I would bet my soul that there is more where this came from.”