Warning Cry

by Kris Humphrey

  What do you think? she asked Flame.

  Flame narrowed her eyes. Her nostrils twitched. He smells of mackerel, she said.

  I’m not asking whether you want to eat him, said Nara. Do you think he’s trustworthy? He seems to know who we are.

  Of course he does. How many other girls keep the company of leopards?

  Nara nodded, studying the craft that sat gently bobbing at the end of the jetty. It was narrow and about ten paces long, with a short mast and a small covered section at the rear made from wooden stakes and sheeting. It seemed like a good a place to begin.

  Tuanne drew up beside her. “I don’t like this man,” she said. “He smiles too much. On the plains we say that if a stranger comes smiling into your camp then he’s surely hiding something.”

  “We’ll see,” said Nara. “Perhaps not every smiling man is a villain in disguise.”

  She led the way along the jetty, weaving around the workers and their stacked loads. The wooden slats sagged and creaked beneath her feet and the air was heavy with the smell of freshly caught fish.

  “Greetings to you, Whisperer,” said the man in green. He bowed, with his hands clasped together.

  Nara couldn’t tell whether this over-politeness was genuine, but when the man saw Nimbus he bowed to Tuanne.

  “And another Whisperer,” he said. “I am truly blessed today.”

  Tuanne gathered Nimbus into her arms and held her tightly, eyeing the man with unconcealed suspicion.

  “Let me guess,” the man said. “You’re seeking passage north? To the Inland Sea or as far as I can take you?”

  “How did you know that?” asked Nara. She looked for Flame, who was prowling around the edge of the jetty, sniffing at the boat.

  “I’ve just returned from Kahsel, at the mouth of the river. My last passenger was a Whisperer. Her name was Lucille. Her companion was a wonderful black hawk.”

  Nara glanced down at Flame. Lucille, Nara’s mentor, practised her craft in the scattered communities of the southern river plains.

  “And you would go north again?” asked Nara, aware of Tuanne’s warning gaze.

  The man nodded, suddenly sombre. “Six years ago my baby son fell ill,” he said. “A Whisperer cured his illness when no other healer could. My son would have died, but now he is a strong, healthy boy, and every day I thank the Whisperers for this blessing. I know why you must travel north – into great danger, and for the good of all of us here on the river. I am at your service.” He dipped his head, eyes closed in reverence.

  Nara glanced past him and saw Flame on his riverboat, scouring the planks and the bundles of gear with her nose. She looked up.

  Yes, said Flame. I think he is an honest man.

  Nara reached up and placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. He raised his eyes.

  “We’d be deeply grateful if you could help us reach the sea,” she said.

  The man smiled and held out his hand. “Marvellous!” he said. “I am Samuel. Very pleased to meet you.”

  “Nara,” said Nara, shaking his hand. “And this is Tuanne. And Nimbus and Flame.”

  More courtesies were exchanged as they followed Samuel back along the jetty towards his home. They would depart at daybreak, he told them.

  Although Nara was eager to continue the journey, she was exhausted from the miles they had travelled. And the dinner Samuel described in great detail as they walked really did sound delicious.

  They approached a modest dwelling, raised on a complex scaffold of stilts, and Nara leaned in close to Tuanne as Samuel began climbing the steps ahead of them.

  “Try not to worry,” said Nara. “Trust doesn’t come easily, but the more people you meet, the better your judgement will become. He’s a good man. Flame can sense these things.”

  Tuanne nodded. “I’m so used to seeing all strangers as enemies,” she said. “You have to, out on the plains. Life is different there.”

  “I know,” said Nara. “Come, let’s rest and eat.”

  They climbed the rickety wooden steps together, Tuanne holding Nimbus tight to her shoulder and Flame slinking silently behind them.

  The welcome they received from Samuel’s wife and son was every bit as warm as Samuel’s had been. The boy could not take his eyes off the two companions, staring transfixed from Nimbus to Flame and back again. He was particularly interested in Nimbus, and Nara remembered how fascinated she had been the first time she had seen a monkey. Nimbus was so human-like in her expressions – a reminder that all animals, humans included, were not so different from one another.

  Samuel cooked an extravagant meal as promised and they sat together, filling their bellies with delicious vegetables, fish and rice.

  Night drew near and Nara and Tuanne gratefully took to their makeshift beds on the floor of the family’s living space. The house creaked, swaying ever so slightly in the breeze.

  As Nara lay down to sleep she listened to the smooth, persistent murmur of the great river. She thought of how she would soon be carried on its currents, away from her home and into the strange lands of the north.

  CHAPTER 10

  It was a bright morning, still dry, and Dawn sat on the balcony of her quarters with one leg up on a small stool. She could see the clouds gathering in the east, blown by the brisk, cold wind towards the capital for what was likely to be another rainy autumn day.

  Her ankle spiked with pain as she shifted on her seat and reached for the fourth volume of Amina’s war diaries. She had been stuck here since her run-in with the Narlaw, unable to join the search because of her twisted ankle and unable to sleep. Reading and worrying were all she had left. She wondered how many Whisperers would make it to Meridar. So far there were just five of them at the palace, including herself. She had barely enough Whisperers to search for the Narlaw spy, let alone fight a war. As she stared out from the balcony, she felt powerless and frustrated.

  After Ebony and Magda had found her in the laundry chamber, lying bruised and barely able to walk, she had been carried upstairs and tended to by Moraine, a Whisperer from the north who was skilled at healing. Magda had agreed, with great disappointment, that the demon must have taken the form of a Guard of the Sun. How else could it have approached Ona’s guarded chambers so boldly? Dawn had requested for each and every guard in the palace to be brought before her. Many had come and gone. But there were others still who were at their homes in the city or on duty elsewhere.

  Dawn glanced up from her book as a shadow flitted across the outer wall of the tower, but it was not Ebony as she had hoped. She had sent the raven to the barracks of the Guards of the Sun to see if she could sense the Narlaw intruder there, although neither of them held out much hope. The demon would surely have fled into the depths of the palace. There were so many places to hide, so many places even Dawn’s Whisperer sense could not reach.

  The girl from the mountains, Alice, and the other two newly arrived Whisperers were scouring the palace grounds bit by bit. But still there was no news.

  Dawn went back to her book. If she couldn’t help in the search then she could at least try to figure out what the Narlaw were so desperately seeking in the princess’s chambers.

  She flipped to a passage near the end of the volume. It was a page she had read many times, in which Queen Amina described the final banishment of the Narlaw. That page was now marked with a slip of paper on which Dawn had scribbled the word earthstone. She sat back in her chair and re-read the lines of neat, handwritten script:

  There were close to a hundred Whisperers in the circle and we were spread across several miles of hillside, but when we channelled together it was as if we were one being, a single part of the living world. I recall the sensation of warmth and of losing myself. My body was without weight and seemed to glow with the power that passed through me. Even the earthstone shone within its bindings, a brilliant blue-white like the sun reflected on the surface of a deep, pure lake.

  The moment itself is hard to describe. Imagine a piercing cry t
hat seems to fly from every blade of grass, every wisp of air, every tiny pebble in every river – the whole of the wild earth screaming in defiance of the darkness in its midst. This is my best attempt at conveying such a feeling with these poor and clumsy words of mine.

  Afterward came silence. The demons were gone. Each one of us could feel it. A weight had been lifted from the world.

  Dawn lowered the book and stared blindly into the morning sky. The passage never failed to move her. It was such a pivotal moment in the history of Meridina – in the history of the Whisperers. But on this reading there was more to think about.

  The earthstone. Dawn had seen it mentioned before and had marked pages in Amina’s war diaries. The stone was only ever mentioned in passing and for this reason Dawn had taken it for a favourite trinket or a royal heirloom of some sort. Now she was not so sure.

  The interest the Narlaw had shown in Princess Ona seemed puzzling at first, but what if they were looking for something powerful, some vital artefact that Ona had inherited from Queen Amina?

  First had come the Yusuf-demon, its form chosen perhaps because of Yusuf’s closeness to the princess. And now a member of the Guards of the Sun, the soldiers whose duty it was to keep Ona safe and her chambers secure.

  Dawn climbed slowly to her feet, grasping at the sturdy wooden crutch that had been brought to her from the infirmary. She needed to speak to Ona, to find out what she knew about the earthstone. Its descriptions were so vague in Amina’s diaries, and it seemed that it was a different colour at each mention.

  If only Ebony were here, Dawn could have sent a message right away, but she would have to make do with one of the guards who patrolled the corridor outside. Before Dawn could draft a note to the princess, there was a knock at her door.

  Valderin strode in. “I have news,” he said.

  “You found the demon?” asked Dawn.

  Valderin shook his head grimly. “The Narlaw have broken cover in the middle lowlands and an army is coming towards the capital. They’ve already surrounded the city of Altenheim. There’s a Whisperer there, trapped by the fighting. Her hawk companion flew here to warn us.”

  Dawn stared back at the guard captain, unable to speak for a second. “We don’t have an army yet,” she said.

  “No,” said Valderin. “So far, there are only local militia outside the capital.”

  Dawn bowed her head. Two towns already gone. And how many townspeople sunk into the ghost-sleep? How many more Narlaw spilling across from the Darklands to take on human form?

  “We must go to them,” said Dawn. “How quickly can the palace guard be ready?”

  “Preparations are already under way,” said Valderin. “We will ride out today. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there is much to be done.”

  Dawn thanked him as he left. Ona and the earthstone would have to wait. First she must assemble the Whisperers and join Valderin in preparation for war. She thought about riding into battle, how it would feel in the presence of so many demons – a whole army of them. She thought of Queen Amina’s linked circle of Whisperers and how few there were at the palace now. No one had expected the Narlaw to advance so quickly across the kingdom. But it seemed they had learned from their defeat a hundred years ago and were trying to strike before the Whisperers could unite.

  Dawn hobbled back to the balcony, looking to the skies for Ebony. She was so very unprepared. Perhaps the warden had been right … the kingdom needed a real leader, like Queen Amina, not some clueless girl from a southland village. Dawn closed her eyes and laid a hand on the leather-bound cover of the war diaries. She pressed down hard, as if some fraction of Amina’s strength could be transferred to her through paper and ink alone.

  CHAPTER 11

  Nara rose early and went out on to the veranda of the stilt-house, stepping carefully around the sleeping forms of her companions. In the soft glow of dawn she caught sight of Samuel down on the jetty, preparing for the journey. Isolated clouds scudded across the sky, creating subtle shadows on the silvery surface of the river. Nara breathed the cool morning air and looked north to where the Salesi dwindled and vanished on the far horizon.

  Tuanne, Flame and Nimbus did not stay asleep for long – Samuel’s boisterous son made sure of that. He woke Nimbus by gently taking hold of her tail. The monkey screeched in surprise and leaped from where she had been sleeping – straight up into the rafters of the house. She darted to and fro above their heads, accompanied by the boy’s good-natured laughter.

  Tuanne scowled at the boy and tried to draw her companion back down.

  Flame rose drowsily, watching all of this with irritation as she stretched her long limbs and flicked her tail.

  Eventually, they were able to eat a quick breakfast together. Then they joined Samuel on the jetty.

  Nara had ridden in a boat once before – a river crossing with her parents – so she knew what to expect. But Tuanne had never been afloat before and she clambered in, wide-eyed and stiff-limbed, clutching at Nara and then at the mast before quickly dropping on to one of the seating planks. Nimbus immediately scampered into the small, covered storage area at the back of the craft and hid between the waxed sacks and coils of rope. Flame simply sauntered on board and found the driest place she could in which to curl up and doze.

  When all four of them were settled, Samuel clapped his hands together.

  “We have fine weather today,” he announced. “The river will carry us swiftly to Kahsel!”

  He unwound the rope from its mooring and pushed them away from the jetty. The boat swayed, spinning slightly before being gathered by the downstream current. Its narrow prow straightened, spearing through the shining water. They were on their way.

  Nara realized that she was further than she had ever been from home. She had barely had time to think about her family since leaving, but now, on the sudden quiet of the river, her thoughts became clear.

  Would her parents miss her?

  Nara had said goodbye to her father and she wished she had done the same for her mother and sister. But they had known she was leaving at dawn and they had not come to see her off.

  She gripped the edge of the boat and watched the tall houses of Heron’s Bend disappear from view. Samuel’s family so obviously cared for each other. And they appreciated the Whisperers, too. Nara felt anger rise in her at the way her own family had refused to value her craft. She felt a new determination to prove herself, to show that she could help save the kingdom no matter what anyone thought.

  She held that feeling tight as she moved to the front of the boat to sit beside Tuanne. They both watched Flame, who had taken to leaning against the prow, revelling in the breeze with her eyes closed and her ears flat against her head.

  “She’s enjoying herself, at least,” said Tuanne with a half smile.

  “Yes,” said Nara. “Flame has a talent for finding the most comfortable spot in any situation.”

  “You know each other well,” said Tuanne.

  Nara nodded. She glanced back at the storage area. Samuel stood behind it, controlling the tiller, and Nara felt Nimbus’s presence there, too, small and nervous, hidden from sight.

  “Now you and Nimbus are together,” said Nara, “you’ll find it easier to whisper. You’ll soon know each other like Flame and I do.”

  Tuanne squinted at the moving riverbank. “I feel so far behind,” she said. “I need to practise controlling my senses or I’ll be useless as a Whisperer when we reach the north.”

  Nara nodded in sympathy. She knew from her life on the farm how it felt to be out of step with those around her. But she also felt a strong pulse of happiness – Tuanne had referred to herself as a Whisperer for the first time.

  “You’re already good at recognizing animals by their presence,” said Nara. “Maybe this is a way to control your senses?”

  It was a difficult exercise. They were travelling at some speed and the creatures around them were quick and skittish – the fish of the river, the birds and reptiles of the r
iverbanks. But Nara listened with pride as Tuanne gradually picked them out, focusing on those quick, blurry presences and interpreting their forms.

  Tuanne kept working – casting out her senses, pushing further, pulling back and pin-pointing even the tiniest, most evasive creatures. The sun climbed across the sky and the two Whisperers only stopped their work to eat or to wave to people on passing boats.

  Samuel had been right about the weather. What little wind there was came from the south, allowing him to unfurl the boat’s small triangular sail and gain some extra speed. It also kept the travellers cool and helped rid them of the pestering insects that inhabited the river lands.

  It was mid-afternoon when the Salesi began to widen and the first outskirts of Kahsel became visible through the heat haze. Small waves started to lap at the boat’s sides, growing ever more forceful. Both girls held on to the bench beneath them and Flame drew back from the prow to sit, alert, at Nara’s feet.

  “It’s choppy today!” Samuel called from the stern. He sounded excited rather than concerned. But he was used to the water and Nara imagined that he could swim, too.

  Nara leaned close to Tuanne. “Can you swim?” she asked.

  Tuanne shook her head.

  “Me neither,” said Nara.

  They both gripped the wooden bench a little tighter.

  They plotted a course along the eastern bank, careful to avoid the larger vessels that were moored there. Kahsel was the largest settlement Nara had ever seen. Its wood and earth-brick buildings crowded the long curve of the eastern shore, right round to the beginnings of the Inland Sea. Tiny ferryboats went to and fro across the river mouth like lines of ants, men and women labouring at their oars, decks piled high with cargo or crammed with foot passengers and livestock.

  Samuel steered them expertly into a lively section of the docks. Boats bobbed and bumped together. Traders and passengers clambered about in an incredible rush. Everyone seemed to be shouting and Nara could sense Tuanne’s unease.