“Haven’t you left yet?” she snapped.
“Ship got delayed because of the weather.” The low season had crept up on them, hitting them with storm after storm. The sailors were rattled, unwilling to leave safe harbour when the black waters churned and shook the bay, promising only destruction for anyone who ventured into the mercy of the waves. He didn’t bother telling her he had no intention of taking it. There was nothing back in Tsellyr for him anyway.
“Well, this is a private conversation.”
Janus entered the room fully and leant against the back wall, watching her scowl deepen further. “Inviting myself anyway. Got a duty to help.”
“Do you know what duty means? Have you ever dedicated your life to anything?”
Under her sharp gaze he felt the need to squirm but held himself firm. Seeing that he wasn’t going anywhere, Neyvik sighed, shaking her head, and turned back to the girls. “Ignore him. Say the rest of what you were going to tell me.”
Both girls blinked at him before Neyvik snapped her fingers in front of their eyes. They were so young, cheeks still full with puppy fat, skin splotchy and spotted. “It was an accident, I swear. I only looked away for just a moment. Honestly!”
Her accomplice nodded so enthusiastically Janus thought she was going to hurt her neck. “We just got a little tired, Neyvik-dan. It’s the rift. It’s not right. Otherwise we would have known something was coming.”
Neyvik rubbed at her eyes. “Pyllah should have been watching over you. Where is she?” She turned to look at Hika who’s eyes skirted away, biting her lip. “Hika? Where is she?”
“The last I saw her she was going into the city. There were complaints of creatures in the tailor’s shop.”
“On her own?” Neyvik scoffed.
“She only went to fetch the puzzle board so we might keep ourselves amused that day. Please, Neyvik-dan!”
Neyvik raised her palm and both girls fell silent. They weren’t so different from the military, Janus thought, no matter how they were perceived by the outside world. Neyvik ruled them with the same firm hand of a commander, clearly a role model for the younger girls even if she must have been young herself, but she demanded a certain discipline from them regardless of her obvious fondness.
“Do you understand what has happened here? What this could do? With the state the world is in we cannot afford to be sloppy.” She rose from her chair in a smooth motion, patting down her green kobi.
“You,” she said, flicking her finger over her shoulder without looking at him, beckoning him to follow.
Janus kicked himself off the wall and walked a pace behind her, trailed by Hika. Kardak still hovered outside but one look at Neyvik’s expression warned him off coming any closer, for which Janus was relieved. She rallied on the pair of them. “You say you want to help.”
Janus nodded.
“Okay. We have had calls from several people across the city with riftspawn related issues. I will take care of business in the Western Quarter. The two of you will investigate sightings in the Merchant’s Quarter. There have been several sightings of creatures disturbing the fish market. I trust you will be able to kill anything that should become a problem.”
He grunted.
“Hika will accompany you to inform me what type of riftspawn we’re dealing with. I don’t like the way things are going right now. If this continues any further, we might be past the point of return.”
Hika looked queasy, crinkling the fabric of her kobi beneath her hands. “What about you? You cannot go on your own.”
“No, I will take Mylai with me. Do not worry, I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can, but still –”
Neyvik cut across her to stare at Janus. “I’m putting my trust in you. Don’t waste it or I will end you. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“Be back before nightfall. We cannot afford to separate for too long.” Her head turned in the direction of the rift, brows furrowing.
“Surely you do not think the rift will rupture?”
“It’s already happened several times over. What’s to stop it now?”
Hika bit her lip and looked away.
Sensing the conversation between them was over, Janus tapped her lightly on the arm to guide her away. With a last nod at a weary looking Neyvik, they moved through the hall back towards the gardens. Hika left to fetch a carriage, leaving him at the mercy of a desperate Kardak who pounced as soon as he found himself alone once more.
“When you were in Tsellyr –”
“Don’t know anything. Told you that.” Shaking his bag of tobacco out of his pocket, he grabbed a pinch and rolled it up, using the candle beneath a bowl of fragrant incense to light it. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Kardak frown, wrinkling his nose as smoke curled up from his hand. Janus watched it lethargically unfurl towards the high ceiling, fading into the light streaming from the windows high above.
“I would like to join you and the lady if you are going out.”
Too weary to argue, he simply shrugged. “Where’s your partner?”
“Ren? He’s contacting the Order in Lyrshok to report back what we have found so far.”
Janus arched a brow. “How’s he going about that?”
“Ah! There are ways.” Kardak hefted his satchel under his arm. “I couldn’t really teach you though, because you don’t have the, you know…”
“Pact with a creature from another dimension.”
Kardak’s eyes fell to the floor, scuffing his shoe. “I mean, that’s one way of looking at it.”
Hika’s form appeared further down the corridor, holding the sweeping edges of her robe so she could glide towards them. “The carriage is ready.” Her eyes flickered between them and then rested on the cigarette hanging between his lips. “Please extinguish that.”
Janus sucked in a last lungful and then snuffed the flame between his fingertips, depositing the butt into a dish that had been left on a nearby table. “Sorry,” he murmured, grimacing at the look of horror on her face.
“Hello,” said Kardak, stepping forward. “I am Kardak Kurell, pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“Will you be joining us, then?” she asked as she led them to the carriage waiting outside, a simple car attached to one laisok, twitching its ears and shaking its head to rid itself of flies buzzing around its head. An iridescent pelt shone in the light.
Kardak nodded. “I can hardly in good conscience leave you ladies in such a perilous time.”
Hika paused halfway from hauling herself into the carriage. “That is very kind of you, Kardak-wei, but you need not be so thoughtful. My sisters and I can manage quite sufficiently on our own.”
Janus waited for the man to scramble in and sat on the bench opposite him, leaning his head back until it thumped against the wall. He wished Rook was here to make conversation. She would know what to say. She would be able to smooth over tempers with her childish enthusiasm for anything to do with the rifts. As scornful as she had been of the rift maidens, he thought they probably had much in common. They certainly shared the same dedication.
Knocking on the door, Hika settled into her seat when the carriage rumbled to a start. Her long dark hair had been plaited up into a crown around her head, tendrils escaping their confines and framing her round face. “How have things been in Lyrshok?” she asked.
Kardak sighed. “Not good. Not good at all. The amount of activity coming from the rift is unprecedented. Trying to keep it closed has put a serious burden on our best rift wardens.”
“How could they afford to spare the two of you, then?”
Janus smothered his laugh with a cough.
Kardak didn’t even blink. “Oh, Ren and I were sent to visit the rift wardens in Tsellyr as we haven’t be able to reach them via other methods. So much of the malicious energy appears to be sourced in the north, so we worried that something had happened. But now our ship is delayed due to the weather so we have not been able to get further t
han Rillasok for the moment.”
“Yes, it certainly is not a good season for travel. We always get bad storms this time of year.”
Janus remained silent throughout their conversation, letting the words drift over him. Storms certainly were no stranger to the tumultuous time between the high and low seasons, but even so, they had been even worse than was custom for the time of year. The first night without Rook he had awoken to roof tiles smashing upon the ground below, his investigations leading him to find broken clay scattering the garden. The back wall of the complex had crumbled, stone worn away by rain and wind, and dust and debris had scattered the ground of the temple itself, shaken loose by the elements. When lightning had speared the midnight sky, his mind had been jolted back to his time in Nirket. To the sudden, unnatural storm brought on by the Sonlin soldier. He had to be dead now but that did not mean his bound spirit was, possibly seeking revenge across the planes.
Janus could only hope that Rook had travelled safely. She did not enjoy sailing on a clear sea; sailing in the storm must have terrified her.
The carriage jerked to a sudden stop, Hika sliding in her seat. “It looks like we have arrived.” She gestured to him, closest to the door, and he moved to open it.
Stepping out to a crisp wind and a sky that had sobered in the time it had taken them to travel into the city, the dark clouds snuffing out all colour, Janus held the door open for his companions. The cold was creeping in and he was not equipped for such frigid weather, tightening the scraps of his coat around him. A shiver racked his spine as he waited for Kardak to try and help Hika out of the carriage only for her to climb out, ignoring his hand. She was not vocal like Neyvik but she had a quiet poise about her, unswayed by those around her. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she glanced at him and said, “Are you all right?” Her woollen overcoat covered the heavy draping of her kobi.
“Fine,” he gritted out.
“Where are we going?” said Kardak.
“Can’t you smell it?” he said, wrinkling his nose. The stench of fish lingered in the air, pungent on the back of his tongue. Overhead gulls circled, their caws echoing on the wind. They waited for the moment that the fishermen grew complacent, timing the precise moment they could swoop down and steal their meal from the stoop-backed men and women hauling buckets hanging from a plank over their shoulders.
“On clear mornings they come here to sell their wares,” said Hika, leading them along the promenade that lined the length of the water. On the ruffled feathers of the ocean fishing boats bobbed up and down. Most of the wooden piers here were rotten and faded, grimy with mould and barnacles. A few worn rowing boats had been knotted to the remaining pillars but Janus did not think their owners would be too upset if they were claimed by the jaws of the storm.
“It’s certainly an acquired fragrance,” said Kardak as they approached the first of the tents, thick fabric awnings covering wooden carts packed full of fish and other exotic sea life, from octopus to squid to crustaceans. The stench grew fouler the closer they came and Kardak grimaced, wrapping a scarf around his mouth and nose.
A jangling noise rang out as a particularly strong gust of wind whipped up the water in the harbour, foam spraying across the sides. Janus looked up to see a spirit chime hanging from the corner of the structure sheltering a fisherman’s cart, shaking with the ocean breeze, pieces of glass shell crashing together. Small silver bells dangled from pieces of coloured twine. Reaching out to calm its frantic warning, he caught a flash of colour in the reflection of the bell and whipped around. There was nothing there.
“Something wrong?” said Hika.
Janus grunted and shook his head, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“Let’s get going, then. This isn’t our only stop of the day.”
Hika marched up the line of tents with the stares of various men and women upon her, a few gesturing to her in faith, which she responded to with a nod and a smile. Her gait did not slow until she came to an older woman with wiry silver hair braided back and heavy earrings dangling from her ears. The woman’s eyes crinkled when she saw Hika, coming from the back of her cart to greet her warmly, hands squeezing her shoulders. “My child, it is good you have come. Please, come and sit with me.”
“Ikka-wei, I have brought some companions with me.”
“Let them join,” said Ikka, her voice as faint as a whisper. She pulled out a selection of mismatching stools and then pilfered a last from her neighbour when there was not enough.
Janus sat, catching his weight with his foot when it rocked on uneven legs. Beside him Hika folded herself onto another, and Kardak rocked precariously on the last, yelping as he nearly tumbled over. Ignoring him with a grace unprecedented, Hika crossed her hands in her lap and smiled. “So, Ikka-wei, tell me about what you saw.”
“I was out with my boy’s son, showing him how to properly catch a fish,” she began. “Namar thinks he knows so much better than his old grandma but I’ve been doing this since my hands looked like yours, my child, and I know more about the ocean than he’ll ever understand. So I knew something was wrong when a shape began to glow beneath the waves.” Her crescent eyes widened enough to make her black irises sparkle. “It was huge. Bigger than the boat, I think. Glowing orange like those fancy fish you keep in your gardens. At first I thought it was my eyes – they’re not the same as they once were, you know – but then Namar nearly jumped out of his skin with fright.”
The woman shook her head, earrings swinging wildly. Janus contemplated lighting up but figured it would make him disrespectful. To keep his fingers occupied he picked at the rip in the sleeve of his coat, pulling the threads out as Ikka continued her story.
“We nearly capsized that night. A vicious storm came from nowhere, huge waves the likes of which you’ve never seen. And the creature swam towards us, so fast I could hardly follow its movements. It tried to snatch Namar from my arms, it did. More teeth than a reef shark. I had to bat the thing off with an oar and row us back to shore as quickly as I could but to this day I don’t know how we survived.”
The man next to them trudged towards a larger bucket and tipped the contents of his own into it, a sudden stream of silver fish tumbling into it with wet smacks, the smell of fish rising over the briny scent of the sea. “Old fishwives’ tales again, Ikka? Don’t you know she’s as blind as a trench eel?” he said to Hika, stroking a thin beard.
“I know what I saw, Gogar! I’m telling you that something is stirring. Things are not as they were.”
Gogar barked a laugh and shook his head. “World’s never been right. You just never had your eyes open until now.”
“What do you mean by that, Gogar-wei?”
He looked Hika up and down and scowled. “I’m not like the fools who pretend they can’t see them. These spirits flitting through the sky and the sea. They’re in everything, even us.” His eyes flicked between them and when his gaze landed on Janus he felt himself shiver. “Nothing is any different from how it’s ever been, you just want to worry yourselves into a grave about it. What will be will be and everything else needs put to rest, if you ask me.” He continued to grumble as he poured another bucket, this one of fat, pink shrimp, into a tray.
Hika turned back to Ikka, who shook her head gravely. “Do not listen to him. He does not understand.” The tinkle of her spirit chime spelled the next storm blooming on the horizon, clouds unfurling like the petals on a black rose. “When this world comes to its ruin because we did nothing, he will be the first to grumble that we did not listen to him.”
“Thank you for your time, Ikka-wei.” They exchanged a bow.
For the rest of the morning they traversed the fish market, discussing the riftspawn sightings with the locals, some stories simple glimpses of creatures too bright and strange to be natural, others so outlandish Janus wouldn’t have believed they’d been framed as truth had he not heard the words from their mouths himself. Hika gathered information with the wit of a master spy, charming herself into th
e graces of the people with easy smiles and questions about their families and state of their livelihoods. He lingered behind her like a shadow but he tried to keep his movements natural so as to suggest he might be hired protection rather than someone to be wary of. From the odd looks he received, he wasn’t sure he succeeded.
Sometimes these things simply took coin. Stripping fried jellyfish from a stick with his teeth, he followed Hika along the coastline back to the carriage. The man at the stall had been a lot more forthcoming once he had purchased some of his wares.
“What do you plan to do with it?”
Hika whipped her head around, throwing Janus a questioning look. Behind them Kardak could be heard lecturing an old man on the classifications of spirits, the chime hanging from his stall set with wooden carvings of fish.
“The information.” The flavour of his snack was surprisingly tasty, if a little tough to chew.
“It is important we establish a good relationship with the people of our city. We support one another. Without their donations, how could we keep the monastery open?”
He raised his brows. It was perhaps a more cynical response than he had been expecting and he ruminated on it as he fought the squid.
“I know there is a problem in this city, Janus-wei.”
The use of an honorific had him biting into the squid harder than he meant to, juices running down his wrist. Wiping them with his sleeve and ignoring her horrified look, he said, “There’s a problem everywhere.”
“I cannot hope to fix the entire world.”
“Might not be able to fix the city until you do.”
“Hm. Well, I’m not in the habit of letting something go just because I fear it might not work.”
“Sounds like someone I know.”
“Let us go, then. We have much to do before the sun falls.”
The Rising Tide Page 15
