‘I see you know about Æbe’trax. Do you know why it’s forbidden?’
‘Saw you use it earlier. Haven’t figured it out by now?’
Vivian shook her head.
Acciper extended a hand. ‘Then let me show you.’
Vivian reluctantly detached Agi from her belt and handed it to Acciper. The man carefully unsheathed the knife. Its blade filled the cargo haul with a pleasant orange light. His tongue between his teeth, Acciper pointed the knife at Lucian and made a swishing movement through the air.
The sack of grains under his head tore open and Lucian woke up with a start, and begun fumbling for his glasses. Kate woke up with a jolt.
‘Ow!’
Acciper sheathed the knife and returned it to a bewildered-looking Vivian.
‘How on earth did you do that?’
‘Æbe’trax can cut through anything and is virtually unyielding, but that’s not why Alarians banned it,’ said Acciper, his hazel eyes following Lucian and Kate’s progress as they joined in the discussion.
‘Why then? How did that sack split without you touching it?’
Acciper looked from Kate to Lucian, his expression unreadable.
‘Answers can wait,’ he said, without looking at the others. ‘Need to tend to my hawk. Get some sleep.’
Acciper then put his back against the wooden wall and continued nursing his hawk.
‘Are you alright, Viv? We heard a bang,’ asked Kate, and Vivian nodded in return. Lucian scratched his armpit, pulling an orange chickpea from his hair.
‘Glad you’re awake. We need to talk,’ she told them.
Vivian ushered Kate and Lucian away from the portholes, where a brooding Acciper was busying himself with making the hawk eat a dead mouse, and recounted everything that had happened to her so far.
Kate and Lucian listened raptly and only interrupted to ask follow-up questions about the Thread that ran through Vivian’s spine.
‘The Artisan said my mind doesn’t actually retain all those languages. It’s just the Thread taking things from the Pattern.’
‘So it’s like downloading things into your brain?’ Lucian asked. ‘Way cool!’
When she got to the part about leaving Solidago, Vivian expressed her regret of not having the time to say goodbye to the Artisan. She felt horrible for leaving Kaap behind; for unknowingly dragging Lucian and Kate into this; for failing to retrieve the roots and condemning Matijas to so much suffering.
On the other side of the haul, the hawk shrieked. The noise was immediately followed by Acciper’s loud breathing.
‘ Don’t give up, love. We’re very nearly there. You hear that, Shéy? Almost there. ’
Vivian had only just become aware of the dirty roots in her pocket.
‘ That Lazuli woman loves being right, does she? Let’s prove her wrong, love. Open your eyes, Shéy! You need to stay awake. ’
‘I’ll be right back,’ she told the others, and rejoined Acciper.
‘Excuse me.’
Two hazel eyes blazed from underneath his hood, two spangled emeralds in the darkness. Acciper looked up so suddenly, it gave Vivian a startle.
‘What now?’
Vivian flashed the root. ‘I can help Shéy,’ she swallowed.
‘How’d you know—’
‘—not all sure this works on umm, giant alien hawks, but I can try.’
‘Vivian, no offence, but you only an Artisan for a little while and I had Shéy since I was ten,’ said Acciper through a trembling lip. ‘One slip and I spend my life blaming you.’
‘And if you don’t let me try and she dies on this ship, you’re going to spend the rest of your life regretting it,’ said Vivian crossly. ‘Take it from me, living with failure is easier than living with regret. If this fails, you have my permission to hate me.’
Acciper said nothing but allowed her passage. Vivian bent over an enormous plumose breast. It was bleeding freely. Shéy the hawk squirmed and fidgeted in its cocoon of furs.
‘ It’s alright, Shéy. Not going to hurt you. I’m here to help. ’
Acciper gave off a silent gasp, but Vivian ignored him. She used Agi to slice up the whispering roots into a fine orange paste.
‘ This might feel a bit cold, ’ Vivian told the hawk, spreading the root sap across its breast and wings.
The hawk shrieked, its orange eyes giving her a piercing look.
‘ Sit still now, Shéy. I’m going to stitch you. ’
As though she was listening, the hawk immediately stopped fidgeting. Vivian pulled a tiny box from her pouch from which she extracted a small curved needle, a vial of clear-blue liquid and a foot long metallic thread. She unstoppered the vial, dipping the needle in the fluid, and then poured the remaining solution over her hands. Behind her, Acciper was holding his breath.
‘ You’re doing great, Shéy. ’
The entire time Vivian worked, the hawk had barely moved. When she finished stitching its breast and wing, she placed her right hand over the stitching and said:
“ Come wind and blow away the dark spirits clinging to this flesh.”
Acciper suddenly found his voice. ‘What in chaos’s name are you doing?’
‘Shhh!’ urged Vivian. ‘She needs this. She’s lost too much blood!’
“Come fire and burn away the dark spirits eating at this flesh.”
‘Y-you can’t do that!’ Acciper pushed on. ‘Blood Weaving is illegal to everyone but Weavers—’
‘This is Artisanship, not Weaving,’ said Vivian, her fingers still pressed upon the hawk’s breast.
‘Grew up in a castle. Think I recognize Blood Weaving when I see—’
‘—shut up and let me work!’ Vivian snapped, a trace of panic in her voice.
Once more she planted her right hand right above the stitching and began chanting.
“Come earth and bury the dark spirits rooted in this flesh.”
Vivian’s eyes went into the back of her head, her blood-stained hands now trembling madly. Acciper kneeled by her side, his eyes unblinking.
“Come water and wash the dark spirits spoiling this flesh, ” Vivian chanted, and colour rushed back into the limp body of the hawk, warm and tingling, like the breath of life. The metallic stitch vanished and the wound seamlessly closed upon itself. Vivian replaced her stitching kit in her pocket and patted Shéy on its beak.
‘ Keep faith and you will fly again. ’
Acciper moved so quickly, Vivian thought he had teleported by her side. His merged eyebrows reminded her of an eagle, ready to snatch its prey.
‘Who taught you Avis’aan?’
‘P-pardon?’
‘Language of flying creatures. Where you learn it? Speak!’
‘Language of… what? I don’t speak any— oh wait. The Taal’kai would have guided my tongue.’
‘You stole Thread of All Tongues?’
‘What? Excuse me, but I didn’t steal— My Artisan Mistress wove it into me.’
‘Lovebirds said you came from the human world. That right?’
‘Yes. But what’s that got to do with—?’
‘Middling cannot be woven upon,’ said Acciper matter-of-factly. ‘They don’t speak to the Soul of the World. They don’t wield its Kaalà. In other words, middlings can’t Weave !’
‘I’ve told you before to stop calling me a middling. It’s rude, alright?’ she retorted. ‘Now listen to me Acciper, this is Healing, not Weaving. The Artisan—’
‘—has lied to you’ interrupted Acciper. ‘You Wove new blood back into the hawk. Blood recreated from known elements of the world.’
Vivian narrowed her eyes. ‘I just saved your hawk’s life. Why are you having a go at me?’
‘Because you lying to yourself. Lying to me. Not Taal’kai guiding y
our tongue. It’s yourself.’
Vivian crossed her arms. Acciper’s features mimicked that of his hawk. His voice had a slight tremor.
‘Who are you really , Vivian Amberville?’
‘I… well, my name’s Vivian and I have named myself,’ said Vivian, a tad crossed.
‘Did you now?’
‘Yes, I did!’
Something in Acciper’s tone was unsettling. It reminded her of Ala Spuria and the way they actively tried to break her identity.
Before she could answer, Acciper added, ‘save your breath, pretender. Soon enough, Pattern will show us the truth.’
Vivian watched the hawk, which now slept peacefully in its nest of furs.
‘I’m sorry your world looks so black, Acciper. We’re not all thieves and liars,’ said Vivian, getting up. ‘Some of us know nothing more than what is . Some of us remember nothing.’
‘If you not the pretender, then you the thief,’ said Acciper coldly.
Vivian turned on her heel. ‘I can well tell which sort you are, Mr. Kidnapper.’
Without saying another word, she moved to the other end of the cabin, where Kate and Lucian were giggling together as they struggled to open a large and succulent fruit. For the rest of the trip, Vivian, Kate and Lucian exchanged theories and expectations about the so-named “Weavers” while a silent Acciper sat in one corner, playing with his Swiss Army knife.
An eternity later, they were moored in the small harbour of Heliconia. It was a small village of fishermen that mostly relied on commerce to survive. On the horizon shone the magnificent orange Jaari and the miniature blue Ikko, Ærria’s two orbiting suns. It made the sky ablaze with amber light.
After having their energy replenished with fruity drinks and roasted fish-on-sticks, Acciper bought Vivian, Kate and Lucian long and airy travelling robes.
‘How about some new shoes?’ Vivian pointed at the very old pair of boots she was still wearing. If only she still had her Artisan boots, her feet wouldn’t be so sore. She loved those boots; they were made of lamia tailskins, hence practically indestructible.
‘Sorry, kids size not available,’ said Acciper, and Vivian felt a sudden desire to kick him in the teeth.
‘No human ever walked these grounds,’ Acciper continued. ‘Keep hooded at all times. Your eyes can give you away. We move east.’
Vivian momentarily forgot she was to be angry at Acciper. As much as she hated him for stealing her away, she was also rather eager to meet the Weavers. Despite the Artisan’s warning, the prospect of meeting beings capable of bending reality with nothing but their thoughts was strangely fascinating.
‘Do they live far?’
‘A mere strike east of here,’ said Acciper ‘if we take mounts.’
While Lucian seemed absolutely terrified at the idea of riding any animal, Vivian felt strangely excited. The Ambervilles had refused to let Vivian ride horses, as much as she badgered them about it.
Acciper entered a merchant’s stable only to return with two woolly animals, as tall as horses but as wide as elephants. Vivian quickly recognized them from one of the Artisan’s hand-painted illustrations.
‘Pelsinn mounts!’
The animals looked like someone had clumsily tried to sew a short, elephant trunk on the head of a cow. Pelsinn mounts had tiny horns, dark oval eyes and a fur so long it dragged on the ground, covering their hooved feet. Around each torso was a complex system of ropes, straps and harnesses.
Vivian immediately claimed her own mount and insisted upon holding the harness. Lucian didn’t trust Vivian’s lack of experience and wanted to ride with Acciper, but Kate had got to it first. After being threatened to be left behind, Lucian reluctantly accepted to sit behind Vivian.
It took a while before they arrived in Lantana. Acciper’s mount kept jumping on its hind legs and throwing Kate off. Vivian turned out to be a formidable rider. She quickly figured how to distribute her weight and which harness to pull to make the animal go where she wanted. Much to the Lucian’s annoyance, she stood up in the saddle a few times and only subsided when Acciper gave her a stern look.
The mountains parted and Vivian’s mouth fell open. Lantana was a grand city, but nothing compared to what lay above it.
Suspended five hundred feet into the air was a rock plateau, and right from its midst sprouted a magnificent citadel whose very existence had broken about a million cosmic laws. Beside her, Kate and Lucian took turns in rubbing their eyes, trying to dismiss the impossibility.
Acciper smiled.
‘Alarian School of Thought,’ he proudly told them. ‘Within those walls they train Weavers. Karura, first Weaver of his name, built the school himself on a tall mountain. Used Kaalà to put it in the skies. Weaving no less than mind over matter, thoughts becoming things. For Weavers, every intention is a creation. Karura thought the ground too mundane for Weaving. Such was Karura’s power that rock keeping it afloat continues to remain airborne long after his death. Alarian School of Thought, one of Four Wonders of our world.’
Suspended in mid-air like an oddly-shaped airship, the Weaving School acted as a reminder of the impossible made possible, of thoughts becoming things. Whoever might come to doubt it needed only look up to see a colossal floating rock with soaring buildings atop. Vivian very nearly wrung her neck trying to take it in. If only Kaap was here to see it.
Five hundred feet in the air, the School of Thought's central spire towered over surrounding buildings. Vivian's eyes widened in awe as she traced the orange sheen of the setting Jaari, dissolve into the wall's pearl polish, and her imagination took to wonder. If Kaalà alone could levitate that hunk of rock and its established buildings, surely it could solve just about any world problem. Kate seemed to be thinking along the same lines.
‘They must be gods, building somethin’ like that,’ she heard Kate say, her eyes raised in admiration. ‘How old d’you suppose their civilization is?’
‘The oldest in cosmic history,’ Vivian told Kate.
Behind her, Lucian’s smile couldn’t be wider. ‘Amazing, their civilization. Can’t wait to read all about it!’
‘If they can levitate mountains, they can send us home,’ said Kate.
Vivian wasn’t keen on going home, but for her friends’ sake, she hoped the Weavers could do it. As the quartet passed right underneath the floating island, she saw no physical way to reach it.
‘I don’t see a way in. How will you take us up there?’
‘Won’t take you anywhere,’ said Acciper. ‘No one allowed there, except Weavers and Weavership students.’
‘So where will you take us?’
‘Garlaan’s the name. A Queendom,’ he said. ‘We don’t breathe twice without Queen Alaria’s grace.’
Vivian thought he sounded sarcastic.
They passed through the city’s Western Gate, plunging deeper and deeper into Lantana. Garlaan was noticeably richer than Kranija. The roads were broad and level, floored in superior cobblestone. The air was pleasantly warm and the sky was a perfect orange, with its two orbiting suns, Ikko and Jaari, strung across a mountainous horizon. Vivian noticed the people here lived in stone houses, not cottages and that their clothes were long, light and airy.
They dismounted before a grandiose building whose every wall was covered in large stone roses. Elegantly-dressed Alarian servants took the Pelsinn Mounts by their harnesses and showed them to the stables. Vivian, Kate and Lucian were marched inside a five-turreted palace, whose entrance was guarded by four men in armour. Their breastplates were so impeccably polished they must have had nothing to do in decades.
‘This way,’ said Acciper, urging them down a marble hallway.
They were marched inside a spacious room ending in a single large chair, currently occupied by a tall skinny figure. A purple fire was maintained inside large pillars of stone, painstakingly sculpted to r
esemble the stems, buds and petals of gigantic roses. Large stained glass windows painted the air in vivid colours.
Vivian crossed the room, only to find her own face staring back at her from several directions. It was a while until she realized the walls of the throne-room were saturated in hundreds of mirrors of varying length. As they approached the throne, Acciper began whispering suggestions under his breath.
‘Don’t stare. Don’t speak unless you’re spoken to. In fact, don’t speak at all. Say something inappropriate and I wouldn’t put it past Queen Alaria to throw you to the crows. You been warned!’
Acciper grabbed Vivian by the arm, forcing her on her knees. Kate and Lucian looked to each other before doing the same.
‘Your majesty, I have– What in chaos’s name you doing here?’
In his rush, Acciper hadn’t realized his Queen was essentially a king; a young one at that. He had bowl-cut hair, a boyish face and eyes too big for his head. Whoever sat the throne was no older than Acciper.
‘Mind your tone, forge-boy. I’m filling in for mother.’
Acciper immediately returned Vivian to her feet.
‘Do not kneel before this fool.’
‘This fool’s name is Bastijaan,’ said the young king interim, his eyes riveting upon Kate, currently helped on her feet by a confused Lucian. ‘And as every self-respecting fool, I’m exactly where I’m needed the most: in a palace, in charge of more fools.’
‘Where’s the Queen, Bast?’
‘Away with business,’ Bastijaan said snootily. ‘Or have you forgotten we have a gaping hole in the fabric of reality?’
‘I forget nothing,’ said Acciper. ‘Look what it brought ashore.’
Bastijaan eyed the three humans accompanying Acciper as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.
‘Shinn’shaan spare us, the Queen sends you after my sister and you return with three middlings?’
‘Humans, if you please. Humans who survived the Shroud,’ said Acciper before pushing Vivian to the front. ‘This one’s been woven upon.’
Bastijaan leaned forward and gave Vivian a scrutinizing look.
‘Why is she watching us like that?’
Vivian Amberville - The Weaver of Odds Page 21
