by V M Jones
‘Well, you can launch a campaign to help them another time, Kenta,’ said Rich. ‘Right now, we’ve got more important things to do.’
We took the left fork and followed it deeper into the city, looking about us curiously. Mostly, there were houses on either side, but now and then I saw what looked like an inn, and once caught a glimpse of a grassy courtyard and a splash of bright flowers through a half-open gate. Fat, speckled birds like small chickens pecked between the cobblestones, scuttling away with curious, chuckling cries when we came too close.
We passed two women in aprons standing at their front doors exchanging gossip. They stopped talking and watched us pass, tight-lipped, with narrow, suspicious eyes. Occasionally we’d catch a glimpse of one of the beggars — not squatting at a street corner waiting for a coin, but slipping away round a corner, crouched in an alley, or motionless and almost invisible in the shadows.
It was beginning to seem a long time since breakfast. When we rounded a corner and saw a wide open, grassy square ahead of us with a shady tree in one corner, we headed straight for it and sank down thankfully. To my relief, Tiger Lily showed no inclination to emerge from her snug nest in my bag, but merely opened one golden eye a slit, gave a token purr, and settled back to sleep.
‘This must be the village green,’ said Jamie, his mouth full of apple. ‘Look at all the shops. I’ll bet they have a market here, too.’
Gen wasn’t listening. ‘Oh, look!’ she said. ‘There’s one of those sweet donkey things, and it has a little foal! Can I go and stroke it? If I promise not to talk to anyone?’
Sure enough, tethered to a hitching post on the edge of the green was a donkey, and its tiny foal. The mum was a dusty brown colour, with a mop of black mane in a clump on her head like a feather duster. The baby was creamy white, with a dark brown mane and long, knobbly legs — it did look kind of cute. Their droopy ears gave them both a mournful, gloomy expression.
In the end, Gen, Kenta and I all went over to say hello to them. They seemed friendly enough, and especially liked having their heads scratched. To my surprise, I could feel two little nubs of horn, like a calf’s, under the mother’s mop of stiff hair.
The girls were ooh-ing and aah-ing over the foal when suddenly the mother stretched her neck out and upwards, pulled her long lips away from her teeth, rolled her eyes, and emitted the longest, loudest burp I’d ever heard. I jumped back; the two girls squealed and shrieked and burst into fits of giggles.
A cheery voice spoke up from behind us.
‘You should know better than to tickle a glonk. You be lucky you didn’t get a rear-ender!’
I wheeled round, my heart lurching. Facing us stood a boy about our own age, so different from the silent, hostile townspeople that he could have come from another planet.
‘What’s a rear-ender?’ Gen couldn’t resist asking.
The dimple in his cheek deepened. He was about Jamie’s height, and his face sparkled with mischief and fun. His brown hair was cropped short and stuck up in front in an untidy cow’s-lick, giving him a comical, startled air. ‘What a question for a lady to ask!’ he laughed. ‘Well, if you don’t know, I sure ain’t going to demonstrate!’
Right on cue the foal flipped up its fluffy brown bunny tail and let rip an ear-splitting fart. That set the girls off again, of course, and the boy and I grinned at each other.
‘My name’s Kai,’ he told me. ‘Who be you?’
‘I’m … er … Adam,’ I mumbled.
I didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed when Richard rescued me, as we’d agreed to do if necessary: ‘Hey, Adam — come over here a minute!’
I gave the boy an apologetic smile, muttered ‘Sorry — gotta go,’ and we made our escape.
Kai wasn’t alone for long. The village green was like the hub of a wheel, with streets like spokes joining it from every angle. Soon, from all directions, boys came running — almost as if it was break time at school. One of them was carrying what looked like a kind of soft football. With a great deal of jostling and discussion, they quickly separated into two groups.
We watched curiously as the teams ranged themselves into straggling lines, one at each end of the green. Whatever the game was going to be, it seemed slow to start.
Kai strutted out to the front of his team ‘You’ve got one more,’ he called. ‘You’ll have to choose someone to sit out!’
‘Well, we won’t, so put that in your gob and chew it!’ retorted the leader of the other team, a dark-haired, belligerent-looking boy.
‘If it wasn’t the final, I wouldn’t care,’ said Kai. ‘We’re short one, so there ain’t nothing we can do about it. But you have one extra, so it be your call. Choose your weakest player to be arbiter. But playing an extra man just ain’t fair!’
‘It’s not our problem if one of your players didn’t show. It be the way the geld falls — too bad for you!’
‘Hob couldn’t help it — his pa’s sick, and he has to mind the shop!’
‘Oh, boo-hoo — hark to the baby cry! Are you playing or aren’t you? Because if we don’t start soon, we’ll all have to go back to trentice, and we’ll win by default!’
The two boys stood there, glaring at each other.
Then, taking everyone by surprise, Kai wheeled round and ran over to our tree. ‘Can you play force-back?’ he demanded.
‘Force-back?’ We looked at him blankly.
He rolled his eyes impatiently, and glanced up at the sun — his equivalent of looking at his watch, I guessed. ‘Aye! You know — two lines, kick the fob, try to catch it, force the other team back. Force-back!’
Suddenly, I could hear Q’s words in my mind, as clearly as if he was next to me: Like a computer game, it’ll be about observing, acting and reacting. And sometimes, you’ll have to trust your instincts.
‘Go on, Rich,’ I said, giving him a shove. ‘I bet you can play a simple game of force-back, no problem!’
Richard’s face lit up — but his grin was a faint shadow of Kai’s, as he held out one hand and pulled Rich to his feet. Talking earnestly, Kai led Richard to his place in the line, and the game began.
Half an hour later a great shout went up from Kai’s team, and we watched as Richard was hoisted onto their shoulders and paraded round the village green. I couldn’t help grinning, but I was wincing inwardly — this wasn’t exactly the low profile we’d agreed to keep. Still, it was hardly surprising: not only had Rich stolen the show with his massive, accurate kicks, but he’d shown the strength and determination of a rhinoceros. Kai’s team had scored a crushing victory, and it was almost entirely thanks to Richard.
The other boys straggled away, and Kai and Rich came over to the tree and flopped down, grinning all over their faces and smelling distinctly of sweat.
‘You have a permanent place in my team if you want one, Rich,’ said Kai, wiping his damp face on his sleeve. ‘You are a fearsome adversary. And yet you say you ain’t never played force-back before?’ He shook his head in disbelief.
Richard reached for his bag, and, before I could stop him, pulled out his water bottle and took a long swig. ‘Rich —’ I said, but it was too late.
Q had given us the most rugged, basic bottles he’d been able to find in any of the outdoor shops in Winterton — military-type canteens, complete with shoulder straps and camouflage netting. I reckoned they were pretty cool, and by the look on Kai’s face, he thought so, too.
‘By Zephyr,’ he breathed, and held out his hand. ‘I ain’t seen nothing like that before. Where did you get it?’
Very reluctantly, with a sheepish glance at the rest of us, Richard handed it over.
Kai was clearly waiting for an answer, screwing and unscrewing the lid and tapping the sides.
‘From a merchant in our home town,’ I mumbled.
Kai settled himself comfortably. He obviously had no intention of leaving for school, or trentice, or wherever his friends had gone. His gaze was friendly, curious and open. ‘Your home town
? And where is that?’
There was an awkward silence. Suddenly I had a brainwave. ‘Where we are from, it isn’t polite to question strangers.’
But Kai wasn’t having any of it. He pulled a face and gave me a friendly shove. ‘Oh, don’t give me that glonk-widdle, Adam,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Come on — where are you from? And where be your parents? And for what purpose have you come to Arakesh?’
He leaned back on one elbow, smiled broadly and waited for us to answer.
Second sight
Gen made one last valiant attempt to deflect him. ‘Shouldn’t you be at school?’ she asked, sounding rather prim. ‘I mean — we wouldn’t want you to get into trouble.’
‘You women be all the same. From cradle to grave, always yapping at us menfolk to be going about our business,’ grumbled Kai good-naturedly. ‘In answer to your question, my lady: if I should be anywhere, it’s at trentice, and not at school, whatever that may be. But this week I’m trenticed to my own pa at the inn, and I know the business well enough already, from the wine stains on the floor to the cobwebs in the thatch.’
‘Does your father own an inn?’ asked Jamie. I could practically see visions of a square meal and a comfortable bed materialising in his head.
‘Indeed he does — the Brewer’s Butt, in Bend Lane.’
Jamie sniggered. ‘Is it really called the Brewer’s Butt?’
‘Aye, it is — brewer for he who brews the ale, and butt for the wooden cask it’s brewed in,’ retorted Kai, but there was a mischievous twinkle in his eye, and I wondered whether the name had another meaning in his world, as well as ours. ‘And now, it be your turn. Where do you hail from?’
Thanks to Gen I’d had a moment to collect my thoughts. As I started to speak, taking it slowly and choosing my words with care, I hoped I’d made the right call.
‘We have journeyed from a town far away, in a distant land.’
Kai nodded. So far, so good, but he was watching me narrowly, and was clearly no fool. And that was partly why I’d decided to stick as closely to the truth as possible — that, and the fact that I liked him, and could tell the others did too.
‘Aye, and what be the name of this town?’
‘It’s called … Winterton.’
Kai nodded again. ‘Well, I can see that be true enough, any road. It be the reason for your pale faces, like grubs that ain’t never seen the sun. Well, go on.’
I took a deep breath, and a huge gamble. ‘We have travelled here alone, without our parents’ knowledge,’ I told him. ‘You see, we have a sick friend — a friend who is going to die. And we have come to Arakesh to seek a potion that might heal her.’ I didn’t say the word magic — I didn’t want to sound like a complete idiot.
Kai’s eyes widened, and he glanced round warily. ‘Well, my friends, if you seek the Healing Potion, you seek in vain,’ he said quietly. ‘Unless you bring with you a wagonload of gelden.’
Excitement rippled through our little group like an electric current. Jamie sat bolt upright, his eyes bright. ‘You mean it does exist?’ he hissed.
‘Exist? Of course it exists — as even a hoo-hoo grub from Winterton must surely know,’ snorted Kai.
‘See the tower up yonder?’ He pointed off across the green; sure enough, the tall tower Gen had noticed was just visible above the houses. ‘That be the temple — the Sacred Temple of Arakesh. But you’ll know this — that’s why you’re here.’
‘No, we don’t know,’ said Richard. ‘We didn’t even know for sure the potion was real.’
Kai raised his eyebrows, and shook his head. ‘Winterton must be distant indeed. Well, then: in the days of yore, more than fifty spans ago’ — he dropped his voice again, and glanced back over his shoulder — ‘when good King Zane was on his throne, the Potions of Power were at hand to all who needed them.
‘There were still the Curators, to hear the applicants and weigh the need, and even in those days, you would only be granted the Potion of Insight if you were a mage, and the Potion of Power if you were a warrior of a certain level. The Healing Potion was for the apothecaries, of course, and those who could afford to paid to use it, according to their means. But it was freely given to us humble folk.’ He sighed. ‘They say in those distant days common people wore what clothes they pleased, and music and laughter rang through the streets of Arakesh.’
Well, things sure had changed. ‘Aren’t you allowed to wear whatever you want?’ asked Jamie in amazement. ‘Do you have to wear, like, uniforms, or something?’
Kai looked at him blankly. ‘Uniforms? Nay, Pinky — unless the uniform colours of the earth be what you mean. For the wearing of colour is a privilege reserved only for Curators and those of noble blood. Within the borders of Karazan, even a lass of three summers playing in a meadow don’t dare place a bright flower in her hair, lest it be noted. Yet they say the king wears a cloak of cloth woven like a rainbow and his queens have entire chambers for their gowns alone, with not a single one of the selfsame hue.’
I exchanged a glance with Rich. Thank goodness Q had insisted on keeping our costumes as close as possible to the ones worn by the villagers in Quest for the Golden Goblet!
‘The gulf between those of high birth and us humble folk is as great as that between the soil and the stars,’ Kai was telling us bitterly. ‘And what holds the two apart is not free air and the four winds, but fear and pain. Now that King Karazeel rules Karazan, gelden have mouths, and their language is the only one the king or the Curators hear. And it is their weight, more than the weight of need, that sways the balance at the temple.’
Well, I couldn’t make sense of much of what he’d said, and by their blank looks I could see the others were also struggling. But even I could tell it wasn’t good news. There was a gloomy silence.
‘So what it all boils down to is this,’ said Kenta slowly. ‘The magic potions do exist, and you can get them from the temple — that building over there — but only if you have enough money.’
‘Aye — ain’t that what I just said?’
‘How much is enough?’ Richard asked bluntly.
Kai gave a short laugh. ‘A king’s ransom, that be how much — more than I, or you, or even Pa, would ever have, if we worked night and day and spent not a single cobbler more our whole lives long.’
‘Do you know anyone who has the potion?’ Gen asked hopefully. ‘Who might be able to spare us — you know — just a tiny drop?’
Kai must have heard the desperation in her voice, because for once he kept a curb on his tongue, and simply smiled at her, shaking his head.
‘There must be a way,’ I said slowly. ‘There has to be. At the very least, we should go to the temple and look. Maybe we could — I don’t know — sneak in somehow, and …’
I didn’t say it. I didn’t have to. The others were all looking down, picking at the grass. Only Kai seemed unperturbed. ‘Aye, there’s a thought,’ he said, sounding more cheerful. ‘To take from the coffers of King Karazeel, the coffers fat with gelden from merchants and farmers … and innkeepers — aye, that would be no crime in my eyes.’ The dimple disappeared. ‘But if you were caught …’ He shook his head. ‘King Karazeel makes an example of all who steal from him. It would be the axe and entrails on the walls of Shakesh, children or no. That — or worse.’
None of us asked Kai what he meant — none of us wanted to know.
‘Maybe we should just go home.’ Jamie’s voice wasn’t much more than a whisper.
Kai glanced across at him. ‘Nay,’ he said kindly, ‘you should not despair. Let your boat go with the river’s flow; the tide may yet turn.’ He jumped to his feet. ‘And now, I’m away to Hob’s to tell him of our force-back victory.’ His eyes gleamed. ‘Will you come with me? He will not forgive me if I deny him the chance to clasp the wrist of such a master of the fob, Rich. And who knows? Hob has a heavy head on his shoulders, and may be able to help you in your quest — and I swear you can trust him as far as an arrow flies.’
Som
ehow it didn’t surprise me that Kai knew the byways of Arakesh like the back of his hand. We followed him through the cobbled streets in the golden sunshine, ducking occasionally down narrow alleyways, and taking a number of shortcuts through what I suspected were private courtyards.
In no time at all he was pushing open the door below a faded wooden sign reading Second Sight, and had disappeared inside. I paused outside for a moment to wait for the others, curious to see what kind of place it would be.
The windows fronting onto the narrow lane were of thick, irregular glass, making it virtually impossible to see inside. The fact that they were none too clean didn’t help. The others straggled up, and we stood in a cluster round the window, all pretending to admire the invisible merchandise, but really having a whispered conference.
‘You shouldn’t have told him so much,’ hissed Jamie.
‘Well, I think Adam did the right thing.’
‘It is clear we are unlikely to make any progress without assistance.’
‘I like Kai, and I think we should trust him,’ chipped in Gen. ‘I think we should go on in, meet this Hob, and see where it takes us.’
I looked round at the four faces: Jamie’s clouded with worry; Kenta silent and alert; Rich as laid-back as ever; and Gen earnest and intense, her wild hair tangled and a smudge of dirt on her long nose.
I gave them all what I hoped was an encouraging grin, and we headed in.
My first impression was that Second Sight was some kind of a junk shop. Shelves and dusty display cabinets lined the walls, a chaotic assortment of merchandise cluttering every surface. Somehow the light filtering through the window and from one or two lanterns managed to make the whole place seem even darker.
The jingle of the bell above the door was followed almost immediately by a loud crash as Jamie knocked over a suit of armour standing in the shadows.
A skinny, red-haired boy appeared from the back of the shop, Kai in his wake. To my relief, he didn’t seem too fussed about the jumble of metal scattered over the floor. ‘Happens all the time,’ he said casually, giving it a kick. ‘Designed to take knocks a lot worse than this. Can’t see why Pa don’t put it over on the other side with the rest of the weaponry.’ He held out his hand to Richard. ‘I’m Hob — and I’ll wager you’re Rich. Thanks for taking my place at force-back.’
