“Don’t worry,” Nara said, grasping her hand, although she couldn’t help but feel anxious herself. She had never been surrounded by so many people, such noise and activity.
Samuel climbed past them to the front of the boat, securing it to the dock with a coil of rope.
“Stay here,” he said. “I’ll be back soon. Don’t leave the boat.”
He pushed away through the crowds.
Tuanne turned to Nara. “Where’s he going?” she asked.
“I don’t know.”
Nara looked down and saw that Flame was gone. She glanced around, suddenly panicked. But Flame had simply moved to the rear of the boat. She was hunkered down in the shade of the storage space with Nimbus, both of them peering out at the masses of bustling, shouting people. If the docks were an unnerving place for Nara, then she knew they would be twice as bad for the animals.
Luckily, they didn’t have long to wait – Samuel soon returned.
“Come,” he said. “I’ve secured you passage on a freighter. It leaves in one hour.”
He held his hand out and Nara reluctantly rose to her feet. She straightened as the boat wobbled beneath her. Now was the time to be strong. She remembered her oath to the Red Sands tribe.
“Let’s go,” she said to Tuanne.
As Tuanne rose and took her hand Nara glanced back at Flame.
Are you ready? she asked.
If I must, said Flame.
Flame turned and poked her nose into Nimbus’s hiding place. Nara couldn’t tell what passed between the two, but when Flame padded down the length of the boat, she had Nimbus by her side.
Tuanne reached down and took her companion in her arms, stroking the tufted white-and-red fur of the monkey’s back. She nodded, and the four of them climbed from the boat and followed Samuel into the throng.
Although Flame drew plenty of astonished looks, the people of the docks were far too busy to stop and stare. Nara strode and side-stepped and jostled her way through behind Tuanne. Samuel looked back often to make sure they were still with him and when they reached the freighter he took Nara’s hand and bowed solemnly.
“Thank you for your kindness,” said Nara. “We are indebted to you.”
“There’s no need for thanks,” Samuel replied. “The only debt is my own.”
He introduced them to the captain of the freight ship – a quiet, stocky man who was too busy with the loading of cargo to do more than glance and nod in their direction.
They left Samuel on the dock and climbed the narrow gangplank on to the broad deck of the ship. Where Samuel’s vessel had been sleek and quiet, this one was vast, laden with casks and crates. It was loud, too. Men and women stomped across the deck and shouted to each other as they carried great coils of rope or metal pulleys as large as a person’s head. The deck hung several paces above the level of the dock and its three great masts rose much higher still. Ropes dangled everywhere, knotted around sails and more were coiled in huge piles all about the deck. The ship was called the Wandering Star.
“This way,” muttered the captain, appearing beside them and taking Nara by surprise.
He led them into one of several low, cramped cabins built up at the rear of the ship. Nara glanced back at the dock and waved goodbye to Samuel before he slipped out of view. She wished he was coming with them.
The Wandering Star left Kahsel docks in the first cool hour of the early evening. There was a great clamouring and shouting aboard, and Nara stood in the cabin doorway to watch the crew run, lift and drag the sails into position. Meanwhile, the crews of two large rowing boats heaved the ship out of the busy harbour. The long towing ropes creaked and Nara watched the grimacing rowers, amazed at their strength. As the ship entered open water and the support boats bobbed away to the sides, Nara looked out to sea. There, ahead of her, was nothing but water – no land on the horizon, just green and white waves fading to a hard, deep grey like hammered lead.
I hope the Middle Country is ready for us, said Flame, appearing at Nara’s side.
Nara placed a hand on her friend’s head and stroked her distractedly. I never imagined it could be so far, she said.
No, said Flame. These are strange times to be a Whisperer. We must be ready for anything.
Night fell and the waves of the Inland Sea rose and crashed against the Wandering Star with relentless fury. The ship’s crew yelled and grunted at their posts, struggling to stay on course and to keep the sails from tearing in the unpredictable winds. The captain bellowed as he walked among them.
In the cabin it was impossible to sleep. No one was spared from the seasickness, and Tuanne and Nara took turns dashing out of the flimsy cabin door to empty their stomachs over the rail. Halfway through the night Nara returned from outside to find Tuanne in a terrible panic.
“Nimbus!” she cried. “She’s gone. Have you seen her? Have you seen Nimbus?”
“Where would she go?” asked Nara.
Nimbus had hidden beneath the corner bunk of the cabin as soon as they had boarded, but she was no longer there. The cabin was tiny. There was nowhere else to hide.
“She must have gone outside,” said Tuanne. “There’s a storm! Maybe she’s been washed over the side…”
Nara grabbed Tuanne by the hand. “We’ll find her,” she said. “We’re Whisperers, remember?”
Tuanne met Nara’s gaze, utterly distraught. But she nodded.
“Come,” said Nara. “Reach out with me.”
They left the cabin, lurching across the narrow gangway and grasping the railing as the ship tilted and sea spray blasted over them. Flame slinked out of the cabin behind them, adding her keen eyes, ears and senses to the search. All of the sails were down and few of the crew remained on deck. There was nothing to be done now but ride out the storm.
Nara darted to the base of the main mast and threaded her arm through a loop in a tight coil of rope, gesturing for Tuanne to do the same. Together they closed their eyes and cast out with their senses.
Nara felt little besides Flame and Tuanne at her side and the crew – tucked away in their quarters or stoically manning their posts. Beneath the sea there were shimmers of life, but the sickening movement of the deck kept her from focusing on anything for long.
She whispered to Tuanne. What do you feel?
Tuanne radiated urgency and fear. Moments passed before she replied.
Up, she said simply. This was only the second time Tuanne had tried to whisper to Nara. The mast, she said.
They looked up together and there, clinging to the rigging with all four feet and her tail, was Nimbus.
Whisper to her, said Nara.
“I can’t,” Tuanne shouted.
Words are nothing but vessels of meaning, said Nara. Speak that meaning to your companion. Ask her to come down.
Nara clung to the mast and waited as the storm howled around them. She glanced down at Flame, who crouched beside her with her fur slicked flat by the wet. She seemed almost as worried about Nimbus as Tuanne.
When Nara looked back at Tuanne she had Nimbus wrapped around her shoulders.
“I’m not sure,” Tuanne shouted, “but I think she said she was bored!”
“Bored?” Nara’s laugh was instantly dragged away on the wind. “You have a strange one there,” she shouted.
The monkey tilted her white-tufted head at her as if taking offence.
Tuanne unhooked her arm from the mast. “Shall we go?” she said.
Nara smiled, and she and Flame followed the other two along the lurching, spray-soaked deck.
At some point during the night the storm must have blown itself out, because Nara woke to a tranquil, gently swaying cabin and the surprising knowledge that she had managed to sleep. From outside she heard the crying of gulls. A crack of bright light shone beneath the cabin door.
Before Nara could even sit up on her bunk there was a thump at the door.
“Wake up, ladies! You made it!”
Nara stumbled on to her feet, rearrangin
g her clothes. She threw open the door and stood dumbstruck. Ships of every kind filled the dark green sea – too many to count. Above them birds wheeled in a grey-blue sky and, beyond that, sprawling over steep hills, was a city the likes of which Nara had never seen. Everything was made of stone, even the huge walls of the docks, a heavy-looking grey that gave the impression of strength and defiance.
She glanced along the rail and found the captain leaning there, staring out at the city. A smile creased his sunburned face – the first she had seen since boarding the ship.
“Welcome to Endhaven,” he said, without turning his head. “The Middle Country.” Then he spat into the sea and strolled away in perfect rhythm with the rolling of the deck.
CHAPTER 12
Kahsel had been shocking enough in its clamour and chaos, but Nara’s arrival in Endhaven felt like being cast into an entirely different world. Everything was different – not just the imposing grey stone of the buildings, but the people, too – their faces and their clothes, their ways of speaking. As Nara passed tentatively along the docks, leading her friends in single file, she felt both dread and excitement at being so very far from home.
They dodged through the bustle of traders, passengers and dockworkers. Packhorses clopped and stamped, waiting for cargo or dragging it away into the city in teams. The cobbles underfoot were slippery and damp, as if it had recently rained. Nara had heard about this – how it rained all year round in the north. How did people plan their crops with such weather?
She stopped to let a fast-moving wagon pass and looked back to check everyone was still there. Tuanne had a wild, defensive look in her eyes and was clutching Nimbus close to her chest.
Flame looked around suspiciously. This place smells awful, she said.
I know, said Nara. Too many people.
They crossed the docks and plunged into a narrow uphill street that ran directly north. It was impossible to walk at any speed with so many people around, and Nara peered into the dingy openings of shops and alleyways as she shuffled past them. Faces glanced or glared or stared back at her blankly.
“Need a ride, dear?” A man dressed in shabby clothes had appeared in front of her, walking backwards as he talked. “Somewhere to stay?” he asked.
“No,” said Nara. “Thank you.”
“Where you headed?”
“We’re meeting someone,” she lied.
He sidestepped out of her way without further comment.
As they left the Wandering Star, Nara had asked the captain where they might find transport towards Meridar. The Corn Exchange was where the northbound carriages waited, the captain had said, and nothing more. Now all they had to do was find it.
At the top of the hill, the street opened out into a small square. Lanes and alleys led off in all directions. Nara stopped, and she and Tuanne were barged and cursed at by those trying to pass through. Flame crouched, growling quietly, and the few passers-by who spotted her gave the group a wide berth.
Nara tried to stop someone to ask directions and, on the third attempt, an elderly woman carrying a vat of something that smelled revolting finally paused to help. The woman raised her arm wordlessly towards another narrow street before hobbling on her way.
When they finally made it to the large open square that was the Corn Exchange, Nara led them to a quiet corner.
“We need to find a carriage that can take us to Meridar,” she said. “I’ll ask around. Perhaps I should do that on my own…”
I’ll be glad to stay out of the crowds for a while, said Flame.
Nara looked at Tuanne, who nodded. She had barely spoken since disembarking.
“This place,” Tuanne said. “It makes me nervous. The noise and the people – the way they stare at us.”
“I know,” said Nara. “But we’ll be free of it soon. I’ll find a carriage to take us to the capital.”
“Couldn’t we walk?” asked Tuanne.
“It’s too far – we need to move fast. Who knows how far the Narlaw have pushed into Meridina by now.”
Tuanne reluctantly agreed and Nara set off on the hunt for transport. She scanned the square and spotted ranks of carts and carriages on the far side. She took a deep breath and strode across. Very soon, she realized that they were in trouble. Between them, they had no money. The coach drivers asked her what she did have, nodding at her bow and arrows, sometimes even asking about the value of the animals. Nara carried on, but with a sinking feeling. No one cared that she was a Whisperer – or that the palace would no doubt pay for the journey on her arrival. It wasn’t until she reached a final cluster of carriages that Nara met with someone who could help.
Her name was Bryony, a stout middle-aged woman with short sandy hair and an air of good-natured cycnicism. “Don’t listen to them – they’re only out for themselves,” she said. “As far as this ignorant lot are concerned, the Narlaw don’t even exist. Just because they haven’t seen any demons yet, they think everything’s just fine.”
Nara liked her immediately. “Have you heard any news from the north?” she asked.
“Only that some Narlaw have crossed the mountains,” said Bryony. “And the palace are calling in the regional militias for training. It looks like war’s coming.”
Nara nodded gravely and felt a sharp chill of fear.
Within the hour they were trundling through the outskirts of Endhaven, into a land of rolling green hills, hedges and woodlands.
I guess this is what all the rain is for, Nara murmured to Flame.
Flame lay beside her on the hard bench of the carriage. Green is all very well, she said. But how is a cat like me supposed to hunt in it?
Nara smiled. You do stand out a bit.
She looked across at Tuanne, jostled by the bumping of the cartwheels. Nimbus had crept beneath the bench, curled behind Tuanne’s pack and her quiver of arrows. The little monkey was watching Flame, her black eyes shiny and alert and her white-and-red fur tufting out untidily.
The cart was uncovered and, although the sky felt low and heavy compared to the vast shimmering blue of the savannah, Nara began to feel herself relax again.
They stopped for lunch in a copse of trees on the edge of a quiet village – so quiet, in fact, that it seemed almost deserted. Bryony said it was because of the Narlaw. Word of the invasion in the north was spreading, and people had begun to move south, leaving their homes in fear of a coming war. Whatever the reason, finding food in the village proved difficult and their midday meal was sombre and unsatisfying.
Only Bryony seemed in high spirits, regaling the group with tales of the rude, ungenerous and strange passengers she had carried over the years. Nimbus’s spirits looked to be improving, too. She scampered over and sat with Flame as the others ate, watching the big cat closely as she rested in the dappled shade.
They drove on and Nara suggested to Tuanne that practising her whispering might distract them as they travelled. Tuanne listened carefully as Nara explained how she had been taught by her mentor. Then Tuanne tried her best to send the meaning of her thoughts across her bond with Nimbus.
You have to listen, too, said Nara. Nimbus wants to whisper to you just as much as you do to her. Search the bond for your companion’s thoughts.
The sky darkened and a drizzle of rain set in. Bryony handed out a pair of old blankets, which Nara and Tuanne spread over themselves, letting Flame and Nimbus shelter between their feet. They passed more villages and one large town with even fewer people in its streets than any before. The only other travellers they saw on the road were heading south.
At one point they passed what seemed to be a whole village on the move. Five or six carts were fully laden with people, furniture, sacks of belongings and caged hens. The refugees nodded solemnly to them and Nara nodded back.
Up front, Bryony shook her head and muttered to no one in particular.
Shortly after that they came across the first signs of Narlaw.
The rain had stopped and they had just crossed a long, sto
ne bridge over a river. Tuanne was deep in her Whisperer trance, and Nara was alternately watching Tuanne and the roll of the hills on the horizon.
Nara sensed the poisoned earth before she saw it. Her stomach tightened. Tuanne woke suddenly from her trance and Flame stirred beneath the bench. Bryony stopped the cart and together they stared at the desolation.
The hillside was in ruins. All grass, crops and hedgerows were gone, replaced by a cracked desert of mud, pooled with dirty rainwater. A copse of what used to be trees lay like bones halfway up the hill, white and lifeless. There was a farmhouse not far from the road. Its roof and windows were gone and its stone walls were blackened with fire damage.
How many demons came through here? Flame asked.
I don’t know, said Nara.
She followed the broad swathe of devastation by eye. It led north-east, across the road and over the low hills on the other side of the valley.
It’s not so bad over there, she said, pointing to the east. Perhaps they stopped here to feed.
Nara realized that Tuanne and Bryony were watching her, awaiting a decision.
“We should carry on,” she said. “This will be the fate of the whole kingdom if the Whisperers don’t unite.”
Bryony lowered her head and nodded.
Tuanne reached down and took her bow in her hand.
“We can’t fight this many,” said Nara. “We’ll need to be clever to find a way through to Meridar.”
“And if the demons find us?” said Tuanne. She gripped her bow as if she meant to banish the Narlaw army with her arrows, one by one.
“If they find us,” said Nara, “then we will have to fight.”
For the remainder of the day the road led them north. They stopped only to water the horses, sharing out what few provisions Tuanne and Nara still carried in their packs and eating as they rode. They didn’t cross the trail of the Narlaw again, although Nara was wary. She kept her senses trained on the hills and woods around them and she knew from Tuanne’s posture that she was doing the same. Her training would have to wait.
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