Secrets of Arkana Fortress (39 page)

              ‘You feel something you can’t quite place? That’s the leftovers from your magic; only a caster can sense it – to the normal mind there’s nothing there.’

              This was yet another piece of the puzzle that was Mikos’s heritage, and all he could do was stone-wall, making no movement or sound.

              ‘Mikos?’

              ‘This is why I can’t let go of this whole thing. I just have to see this through, regardless of whether or not I agree with it.’ His mouth stayed open for a moment before shaking shut. ‘I’m a caster, aren’t I? I think… it’s finally beginning to hit me.’

              Byde placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. ‘You’re not alone anymore… and neither am I.’

              ‘What are we to do next? Do we have any idea on direction?’

              With a hesitant sigh, Byde lifted Mikos to his feet. ‘Before we go anywhere I need to fill you in on a few things.’

              Mikos blinked. ‘What things?’

              ‘About what we’re up against… unimaginable danger.’

              They both shivered inside.

Chapter 27

‘It’s called a coconut,’ said Carlo proudly as he held the hairy object in his hand.

              Evie looked at it distastefully. ‘Where’d the hell you get it?’ she asked with a snooty expression.

              ‘At the market down the road.’ Carlo pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. ‘They were on offer – four for one rubos.’

              ‘Well… what are coconuts then?’ She looked up at him expectantly.

              Carlo blinked for a few moments, looking to the coconut and back at Evie’s screwed up expression. ‘Erm…’

              ‘You don’t have a clue, do you?’

              ‘Erm…’

              ‘You’re an idiot, aren’t you?’

              Carlo lowered his hand and looked around the room innocently. ‘Erm…’

              ‘The word you’re looking for is ‘yes’,’ she snickered.

              He tossed the sphere onto the hard wooden floor, the object landing with a ‘thud’. It rolled to Evie’s feet where she lodged it between her heel and the floor. She bent down to pick it up before she shook it gently, then again with more force. ‘There’s liquid in it.’ She glanced over at the table and pointed. ‘Hand me that knife, please.’ After being given the knife she jammed its sturdy point into the shell, wiggling it backwards and forwards until there was a sufficient gap for whatever liquid there was inside to pour out. She got up and grabbed an empty mug from the dresser in her room. With great care she watched a milky substance dribble into the vessel until it was halfway full. She gave it a careful sniff like a cat does with its food.

              ‘Not much smell to it,’ she remarked before she sipped some of it. ‘But it’s bloody tasty.’ She licked her lips and downed the rest, giving a resounding belch when she had finished it. ‘Four for one rubos you said?’ she said with a whitish smile.

              ‘Yeah.’ Carlo nodded with a look of hesitancy.

              ‘Get some more.’ She poured the rest of the milk out into her mug and gulped it down with a newfound thirst.

              ‘The guy on the stall said it’s got tasty flesh,’ Carlo explained with a slightly confused look at Evie.

              She set the coconut down onto the dresser top and started to palm the knife back into the hole she had made, eventually cracking it in half. She shaved off a piece of the white body and nibbled it daintily. ‘Wow… that’s good,’ she remarked before she gave herself a half full mouth.

              Carlo’s face started to look relaxed, and he began to smile.

              ‘Heard any news?’ Evie eventually asked amidst a mouth full of coconut flesh.

              His face dropped faster than it had brightened. Every single day she had asked if there had been any news from her uncle, and every day he had bitten his lip as he watched her face grow dark from all the worry. He shook his head for the hundredth time. ‘Nothing on the grapevine I’m afraid, Evie.’

              She cursed and looked out of the window overlooking the harbour, her body resting against the wall. A circle of gulls glided around a freshly docked ship, its sails being drawn down for the duration of its stay. Men hung from the rigging shouting and bellowing at each other. Two regal-looking human males, armed with swords and bows, casually made their way down the gangplank to the dockside laughing and joking; they were nudging each other and pointing at a group of feline workers.

              ‘Is there any way we can find out?’ she asked with a glimmer of hope in her pale-looking eyes.

              Carlo sighed and shrugged his shoulders. ‘Short of going back to Donnol? No.’

              ‘What are we waiting for anyway?’

              ‘Word from your uncle Dedrick of course.’

              ‘But what if we hear nothing? What then?’

              He had to stop his urge to snap at her – he was undoubtedly growing tired of the questions. ‘I don’t… know.’

              Evie huffed and shot up to her feet. ‘I’m going to go for a walk.’

              ‘To where?’

              She glared at Carlo, a distinct frustration aimed his way. ‘Anywhere but this bloody room, OK?’

***

A few days had passed since their escape from Traseken and each of them grew weary from their trek westward. Their only way to go north was to proceed to Pillin, hire a ship, travel to Cryldis Island, and then from Hocklino over to Donnol. Going back to the great city in the north was a terrible risk given the circumstances surrounding Kelken and Breena’s last visit.

              A fresh, salty sea breeze blew along the coastline as the four companions hiked north from Creepers Cove, so called because of the vine-like plants that infested the area. Nobody had known where they had come from, but many theorised that it was a work of magic to protect some long lost treasure.

              Pillin was just a couple of miles in the distance; they could already see the faint plumes of smoke and the far-off dots that were birds whipping about the skyline, no doubt in search of a feast. The port town was a renowned place of activity – the most active location in the southern territories for miles around.

              When they entered the outskirts the group were immediately overwhelmed with how much action there was going on around them. Carts were being pulled in and out of the town; muscled, rugged-faced workers hoisted crates and the like from place to place; and ships rang their bells to tell people they were coming and going.

              Breena pointed up at a towering mechanism that was gradually lifting a gigantic crate of only the gods knew what into the air. The air swirled with heated metals and burned wood, mixing heavily with its salty tinge. A faint smell of fish and silt wafted through the wide street along with a gust of wind, making Franlet cover her nose with her prosthetic hand.

              ‘Damn that smells bad,’ she snorted through her chunky metal fingers.

              San Kiln laughed a husky purr. ‘Gives me an appetite, let me tell you,’ he said with a wink at the Bullwark.

              Franlet grunted and waved her remaining arm at him, annoyed. ‘You can bloody well keep the whole lot.’

              They continued on through the busy street until they reached the harbour, shouts of anger echoing from the docks and the ships. There was something much more apparent in this town other than its active life – people on the streets; homeless.

              Breena paused for a few minutes to watch an old homeless man rocking back and forth in a corner full of filth and rubbish. She stood, suddenly horrified, stone still as the man locked his eyes on hers and, for a split second, smiled before snarling at her.

              ‘Woah.’ She stepped back quickly, bumping into Kelken who cursed as he turned around. ‘A Psyloss sufferer,’ she remarked, a tiny pang of fear suddenly present in her usually confident voice.

              Her father grabbed her arm and pulled her back a little. ‘Don’t antagonise him then.’

              It began to dawn on them that there were a lot more Psyloss victims out in the open streets than in the cities of Donnol and Yingtzo. The military in Donnol were known for keeping a lid on the number of Psyloss outbreaks that occurred, and it seemed that Yingtzo were as well. How the town operated with all these sufferers roaming around was the biggest question in all of their minds.

              San Kiln had noticed, however, that there were plenty of armed men and women standing around with a wary eye – he assumed they were there to keep the victims away from trouble. He raised a paw and smoothed his wind beaten fur on the top of his head back. ‘What are we doing now?’

              Kelken breathed in the mixture of smells in the air and screwed his mouth up. ‘We look for a ship to sail us to Cryldis, San.’

              ‘Don’t we get a rest first?’ he asked deeply.

              Breena seconded that.

              ‘Oh alright.’ Kelken looked around and pointed to a nearby building with a tavern sign hanging from a metal hook above the door. ‘That place for an hour – we’ll grab some food and some rest.’

              Franlet swung her cloak around her feet and sniffed the air lightly. ‘Good thing too… rain’s on the way.’ She trudged over with her heavy gait, stopping by the door.

              Kelken looked up at the sky and saw the ominous clouds swooping towards the town. ‘Get inside before it pisses down.’ He stood aside while Breena hobbled to the doorway, followed by San Kiln who was scanning the tavern front intently. ‘What’s up with you?’

              The feline scratched the back of his neck then licked his hand instinctively. ‘I’m wondering who owns the place.’

              ‘Oh… shit, yeah. I nearly forgot about that.’ He looked at the other two and smiled softly. ‘Nothing important,’ he stated as if to dismiss any questions pre-emptively.

              Breena massaged her forehead. ‘Whatever, dad; I’m starving… and thirsty.’

              For San Kiln there was a sense of dread about the place that made his mouth dry – to face it again was gut-wrenching.

***

They had eaten and rested for an hour. San Kiln had found out that his son was not in Pillin whatsoever – he was visiting a small place in the south to try and set up a trade agreement for supplies. He wasn’t told too much as he kept his identity secret – the last thing he wanted was a fuss. He could not tell, though, if he was relieved or disappointed that his son was away. In many ways he wanted to see him to apologise, but on the other hand there was too much lingering anxiety that he feared he would not be able to deal with.

              He leaned against the outside doorframe of the tavern flicking his foreclaw in and out while he waited for the others. He had had his fresh fish dinner, wolfing it down like he was possessed. As soon as he had seen his son’s name above the bar on a plaque he had fallen silent, the past creeping up on him like a night assassin. His chest was heavy with doubt.

              A small commotion at a fruit stall across the street snapped him back into the real world. A dark-haired woman was getting aggressive with the owner about the price of something he had for sale. He distinctly heard a few expletives followed by accusations of ‘being ripped off’ and ‘daylight robbery’. The argument went on for a good 15 minutes or so until a black-haired man ran over to them, seemingly out of nowhere, and held the raging girl in a restraining grip. She batted about, screaming until her face was red with pulsating anger and resentment.

              ‘What the fuck is going on over there?’ asked Kelken as he emerged from the doorway with Breena and Franlet, who was chomping on some dried meat.

              San Kiln chuckled and put his claw away again. ‘Some woman’s having a strop about being overcharged for something.’

              ‘That all? Not the end of the world then.’ Kelken patted San Kiln on the shoulder. ‘Let’s go get ourselves a ship.’

***

‘I said let me the fuck go, Carlo!’ Evie screamed as she kicked her legs out at the stall owner who was standing protectively in front of a tray full of coconuts. ‘Four for three rubos? You sold them to Carlo at four for one rubos! You think I’m a mug? Naïve? You’re a robbing bastard.’

              Carlo grunted and swung around to get her away from the seller. ‘Will you calm down? For the love of the gods there’s another seller a few streets down we can get them cheaper at.’ Evie whipped her elbow around, narrowly missing his head. ‘If you hit me, woman, I will take you down – I don’t care who you are.’

              She growled again. ‘I will dropkick you on your ass! I will…’ She trailed off as she caught a glimpse of fiery red hair across the street. It belonged to a slender woman dressed in elegant green and brown leather armour and a battle skirt. ‘I know her,’ she whispered to herself. She scanned the rest of the people with her – a Bullwark, a cat and… ‘Him! It’s him!’ she blurted out, her arm outstretched.