Broken Earth

by C M Blackwood

  “Somewhere else.”

  “But where?”

  “I don’t know! You never even gave me a chance to consider it.”

  “Surely you knew that it would come to this? I only mean – all of that time you spent with Welk! All of that, just to learn what we know now. ”

  “Things were different then. And I’ll have you know – I never actually meant to go there. I was only doing it for Jade.” Her voice turned violent. “And I’ll have you know, just how much I regret that now.”

  “Have you already forgotten about Welk? We have to do something.”

  Dera raised her eyes slowly. “You killed Welk.”

  “You would blame me?”

  Dera was disbelieving. “I told you to come! I told you to stop! You killed him.

  Why did you have to kill him?”

  “You know, you’re just about the worst and most useless thing a person could ask for.”

  “You’re not much better.”

  It was all Heidi could do not to shove Dera off her horse.

  “Just be quiet,” she hissed.

  “Gladly. I’ve nothing to say to you, anyway.”

  And so they went on, mouths closed and hearts ripped open; things flowed out, and were pushed back in, but could not be told about with voices.

  ~

  As the smoke finally began to clear, Dain felt a small smile pulling at the corners of her lips. She saw the lone woman quite as clearly as she could have wished, though the pair were still obscured.

  It was enough of a victory for one day.

  As she turned away from the Sphere, a knock came at the door.

  “Enter,” she called.

  “Sorceress,” said a silky voice. It was low and soft, with a hint of danger in its issuance. At first Dain saw nothing; but then a thin, darkly-clad figure shimmered out of the shadows, and appeared in the chair opposite her.

  “It has been a long while since I heard from you, Biscayne. Please tell me that you have good news.”

  The King of the Lumaria shook his head, shining black hair falling into his eyes. “I am afraid not, Sorceress. Indeed, I have brought you terrible tidings. I hesitate before speaking of them, unwilling as I am to cause you any grief.”

  “Say what is on your mind.”

  Biscayne took a breath, and folded his powder-white hands atop the table. “It is your husband, my liege.”

  Dain sat up a bit straighter. “Shonin?” she said quickly. “What of him?”

  Biscayne looked her directly in the eye – an ability that only a few of his kind possessed. The Narken floundered before her gaze; and indeed, even many of the Lumaria dared not lift their eyes to hers. They seemed to think it easier to look at the ground, or at the wall. That way, they could at least be sure that they would not be killed, for looking in the wrong direction.

  “What have you to say?” asked Dain. “I warn you, I am beginning to lose my patience.”

  “Shonin Welk is dead.”

  Dain felt something crumble inside her, and then tumble down in the form of an avalanche, settling in thousands of pieces in the pit of her stomach. But she kept her face calm, and free of emotion. She stared at Biscayne, seeming simply to wait for additional information.

  “He was found in the station he positioned in Fortala. There were none of us there with him, but only himself – and the evidence of at least one other. He was killed by no man-made instrument. His skin was burnt so badly that it verily melted.”

  Dain rose from her chair, the fury that rose within her rendering her incapable of stillness. “One of the whores from Delvare,” she whispered.

  “Yes, Sorceress. It could not have been Black, as her Power does not take physical form; but that leaves two for consideration. Such an ostentatious and over-played execution makes me favour Misaria for the deed.”

  Dain said nothing.

  “Trust when I say that I will find them all,” said Biscayne. “They will be brought to you alive, for you to do with them as you wish.”

  “I have the utmost faith in you, Biscayne. But I have my own plans for what is to be done.”

  “Tell me all, Sorceress.”

  Episode II

  VIII: Little People and Wumpkin Juice

  Heidi struggled to keep her eyes open as they passed through the barren, rocky land that was Sitagrata. They were making much better time than she had thought. At the end of their third day of riding, it seemed that they were only hours away from the entrance to the mountain pass.

  As they drew nearer the range, the empty land transformed itself into something of a small town. There were a few houses, several tiny shops, and a tavern that seconded as an inn.

  Dera gave an exaggerated yawn. “Mayn’t we please stop, Heidi? I’m so tired!”

  It seemed that their anger had faded, right alongside the passing miles. There was a great deal that had been left unsaid; but rather than concern herself about it, Heidi tried simply to enjoy the temporary, unspoken truce.

  “I think we have earned a good night’s rest,” she answered.

  “Oh, thank the gods. I was sure you were going to say no.”

  They cut across the dirt lot of the inn, and tied their horses to two of row of tall wooden posts near the door. Heidi pulled a blanket from one of the packs, to throw over Eriah’s back. Then she kissed his neck, and whispered goodnight into his ear. He snorted in response.

  When Dera had finished with Dillyn, they made their way into the inn. There was no sign hanging above or to the side, and no bell to chime as they opened the door. The first floor was only a large, open room, with a few tables off to the left, and a long bar to the right. As Heidi had expected, it was nearly deserted; but a small man in a red coat rushed over to them none the more slowly for it, smiling broadly and reaching for their bags.

  “My name’s Doulo,” he said, turning and gesturing for them to follow. “I run this place with my brother, Noulo. He’s off doing something strange and inexplicable, I’m sure.”

  Heidi and Dera exchanged a glance. Then Dera went back to staring at Doulo’s orange cap, her eyes wide and her mouth thin.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” said Doulo. “He’s a harmless little fellow. Couldn’t get by without him, that I couldn’t.” He began to chuckle. “He always was a different kind of boy. They used to make fun of him when we were little; but I think he grew up just fine. I love him to death, I do.”

  “We’re looking for a room,” said Dera, obviously trying to convey the fact that she did not want to know any more about Noulo, or what kind of a fellow he may have happened to be.

  “Coming right up,” said Doulo over his shoulder, leading them up a narrow staircase to a dark, equally-confined hallway. “No one else here right now,” he said, fiddling with a key in the lock of the first door on the left. “Got the place all to yourselves.”

  “Lucky us,” muttered Dera.

  “Do you mind me asking your names?”

  “Yes.”

  “Of course not,” said Heidi, giving Dera a sharp elbow to the arm while Doulo’s head was turned. She winced, and then returned the blow. By the time Doulo looked back at them, they were both holding their arms and frowning at one another.

  “I’m Heidi, and this is Dera.”

  “Lovely, lovely!” said Doulo.

  When he had finally got the lock undone, he hefted the bags in one hand, twisted the doorknob with the other, and fell into the room.

  Dera sniggered.

  “Happens all the time,” said Doulo, laughing as he picked himself up off the floor. He set the bags upon the nearest bed, and lit the lamp on the little table beside it. He looked once more at Heidi and Dera, and then hurried out of the room.

  “What a strange little man,” said Dera, flinging herself onto the luggage-free bed.

  Quite all of a sudden, Doulo popped his head back through the doorway. Dera, thinking him gone, got a terrible start.

  “Anything you need,” said Doulo, his grin not having faded
a smidge, “don’t hesitate to ask! Noulo and I will be right downstairs.”

  “Thank you,” said Heidi.

  “All right, then. Have a good night.”

  “You, as well.”

  As Heidi went to close the door, it was she, this time, who got the start. For Doulo was back again.

  “I almost forgot to ask you,” he said. “I would have waited till morning, but I’m terribly curious, you see –”

  “What is it?”

  “Where are you girls coming from? Strange time of year to travel, that’s the only reason I ask. Hardly anybody –”

  “We’re visiting family,” said Heidi, interrupting him. “It could not wait.”

  “Anyone ill?” asked Doulo, looking concerned.

  “Everyone’s fine.” She narrowed her eyes pointedly. “But we’re awfully tired, if you don’t mind.”

  “Oh, of course,” said Doulo, smacking himself lightly in the forehead. “This mouth of mine, it could go all night! I’m terribly sorry, miss! Sleep well!”

  When he retracted his head from the doorway, Heidi moved as quickly as she could to snap the door shut.

  Dera laughed at her. “Not enjoying the company of the dwarf?”

  “He’s not a dwarf. He’s just small.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  Heidi sighed, shoving the bags off of the second bed. “I’m exhausted,” she said, flopping down without bothering to pull back the bedclothes.

  “You needn’t tell me,” said Dera, leaning over the nightstand to blow out the lamp.

  Heidi kept her eyes open for a bit after the room went dark, staring at the thin line of light between the curtains. The room was so small, she felt that the walls were suffocating her. It had been somewhat better when the light was on, and she could see them. But now she could only feel them, and try to ignore them.

  “Heidi?” said Dera.

  “What is it?”

  “I can feel someone watching us.”

  Heidi looked towards her, through the dark. “Who?”

  “You know who. I can feel her eyes; but I don’t think she can see. I can feel something around us, hanging like a curtain. Was it you?”

  “No,” said Heidi, rubbing at her closed eyelids till spots of colour danced behind them. “It must have been Jade.”

  “I suppose you’re right – because I can’t see Jade, either.”

  “She didn’t want us to follow.”

  “And here we are, anyway.”

  Heidi turned away from her. She drifted a little away from herself, digging a little hole inside her own head, and curling up at the bottom to hide.

  She reached inside her pocket, laying her hand on Jade’s letter. She closed her eyes and pictured the words, written in Jade’s somewhat messy hand; she saw the words that Dera would have trouble making out, if Heidi let her see them; the words that Heidi could read without looking twice. She knew them by heart, and did not have to look at the letter; she could see it through the darkness, shining like the light between the curtains.

  Dear Heidi,

  I have not forgotten that you wished to travel with me. Yet now I think, that it is in the best interest of us all for me to go alone. Everything has changed. Josephine is gone, and her death lies at my feet. I will kill them all, if it is the very last thing I do.

  Do not say a WORD to David. Hold yourselves together.

  Jade

  And then, as if she wished to include something that might comfort Heidi just a little better, she had written:

  Do not think, for even a moment, that I do not want you with me. It will be ten times harder, doing this without you; but I will sleep all the better knowing that you are safe, rather than lying in danger beside me.

  I do love you so, Heidi.

  ~

  Were it not for the smell of scrambling eggs and smoking meat, Heidi probably would have slept for more hours than she wished. She sat up in bed and sniffed, her stomach rumbling with hunger for more than dried pork and almonds.

  She looked over at Dera, and was thoroughly unsurprised to find that she was still fast asleep. As long as a gaping chasm did not open in the earth below, splitting wide apart to swallow the entire building, she would sleep without stirring till noon.

  “Dera,” said Heidi.

  There was only the sound of soft snoring.

  “Dera!”

  Dera rolled over in a flash, her hair tousled and her face still permeated with sleep. “What? What’s going on?”

  “Breakfast is what’s going on. Can’t you smell it?”

  “Not until you woke me, I couldn’t.”

  “Aren’t you hungry?”

  She began to mutter and mumble, swinging her legs off of the bed to slide into her boots. Heidi paid her no mind.

  Downstairs, they found a man quite as diminutive as Doulo, flipping bacon on a griddle behind the bar. He looked up as they came into the room, smiling in a very pleasant way.

  “Hullo! How was the lying and the sleeping?”

  Dera took a seat at the bar, and stared shamelessly at the small man.

  Heidi wondered at him, but simply said, “Very well, thank you.”

  “Welcome you are. Bacon you would like?”

  “Please.”

  “In your hand or in your glass?”

  Heidi was trying to think of a way to answer, when the door behind him opened, and Doulo stepped out. “Good morning!” he said.

  “Good morning,” said Heidi.

  To neither the astonishment of Heidi nor the displeasure of Doulo, Dera only glared at him.

  “This is Noulo,” he said, clapping his brother on the shoulder. “He wanted to make something nice for you. And who doesn’t love bacon and eggs?”

  “Nobody doesn’t, everyone does,” said Noulo.

  “That’s right, Noulo,” said Doulo.

  “Good gods,” said Dera, lowering her head to the bar.

  Noulo picked up two glasses. He put three strips of bacon into one, and then three into another. He looked up and smiled. “Hands go out,” he said, “and eggs go in.”

  “Don’t you think they might go better on a plate, Noulo?” asked Doulo.

  “Eggs in the hand, bacon in the glass.”

  Doulo laughed. “I’m afraid these girls aren’t used to your way of doing things, brother. Here – step aside, and I’ll dish out these lovely eggs you cooked.”

  Noulo moved out of Doulo’s way, looking a little disappointed.

  “Thank you, Noulo,” Heidi said, trying to catch his eye. He looked up only a little, seeming all of a sudden very shy. But when Heidi offered him a smile, he flushed a little, and took one of the plates from Doulo to give to Heidi.

  “Why are you talking to it?” Dera hissed.

  “He has a name, you know.”

  “Oh, I know! Small, stupid man – is that it?”

  “Why do you have to be so mean?”

  “Because it’s that way I am.”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  “What are you two whispering about?” asked Doulo genially. “No secrets here, you know!”

  “We know,” Dera muttered, pulling a piece of bacon out of her glass.

  While they ate, Doulo disappeared back into the room behind the bar. Noulo looked at the eggs that were left, and then at the stack of plates beside the griddle. He seemed to be trying very hard to figure out how to put the two together.

  After a few minutes, he had somehow managed to resist his inclination to simply scoop the eggs up in his hands. He rounded the bar with his eggs on a plate, grinning widely and holding his fork up like a trophy.

  “Oh my,” said Dera. “I simply don’t know what to say.”

  “Perhaps that’s best.”

  Noulo walked past Dera, without so much as glancing at her, but came to stand by Heidi with his grin and his eggs. “Sit with you?” he asked.

  “Of course,” said Heidi, patting the stool beside her.

  Noulo’s expression w
as no less than ecstatic.

  A moment later, Doulo came back out to join them, holding a jug of some purple-coloured liquid. “Juice?” he offered.

  “What kind is it?” Dera asked.

  “Why, it’s wumpkin juice, of course!”

  “I suppose I should have known,” said Dera with a sigh.

  “Very tasty is the wumpkin juice,” Noulo whispered to Heidi. “Try some, you should.”

  “All right,” said Heidi reluctantly.

  “Good girl!” said Doulo. “I doubt you’ve ever had it, if you’re not from around here. Or, at least, if you’ve never been exactly here, in this room.”

  It looked very thick, and chunks appeared to fall out of it as he poured. But Noulo was watching Heidi’s face expectantly, waiting for her to taste it; so she knew not what to do besides raise the glass to her lips and take a swallow.

  As something cold and slimy slipped over her tongue and down her throat, it took all of her resolve to resist the urge to spit it back up. She looked over at Noulo, and smiled sickly.

  “Very good!” said Noulo, taking her glass and gulping down the rest of it.

  “Noulo!” said Doulo, shaking his head. “You know better than that.”

  “Sorry, Doulo.”

  “Oh, it’s no matter.” He looked at Heidi. “Would you like some more?”

  “No,” she said quickly. “But I’m sure that Dera would love some.”

  Dera gave her a vicious look, as Doulo set a glass of the purple stuff down in front of her.

  “Very good!” repeated Noulo.

  “I’ll show you very good, you little –”

  “Thank you so much for breakfast,” Heidi said loudly, rising from her stool. “But we should be getting ready now.”

  “Off so soon?” Doulo asked.

  “We really should be. But thank you for everything.”

  She looked over at Noulo, who seemed very sad.

  “Oh, buck up, boy!” said Doulo. “It’s not the end of the world.”

  Noulo began to cry, and sprang from his stool to run into the back room.

  “Poor thing,” said Doulo. “It seems that he’s taken a liking to you, Miss Heidi.”

  “He’s a lovely fellow,” said Heidi kindly, giving Dera a warning look.