Talon (The Astor Chronicles Book 1) (25 page)

I was relieved to feel Lira’s hand, her fingers cool against my clammy palms.

As we passed down the main boulevard the crowds thickened until we had to use shoulders and elbows to carve ourselves a path. Rekala pressed her dog form side reassuringly against my leg whenever she got the chance. Like me she was tense with anxiety.

I gripped Lira’s hand tightly. She struggled to keep close to me among the pushing bodies. Sarlice and Austo swam in and out of my vision. The stink and heat of others set my skin to crawling. Sweat collected on my back and neck. Just when I thought I could take it no longer, and was preparing to join my kin in dog form, the bodies halted.

‘By the trees,’ Austo muttered as Lira and I came up behind them. ‘They’ve pushed their blasphemy before, but never have I seen such as this.’

Sarlice lurched forward shouting, but Austo grabbed her back. People murmured fearfully all around me, but none raised their voices too loudly. Through a gap in the crowd I could make out a figure standing near a sawn log that was stained red. Two shrubs gave off a sickly sweet stench as they burned, and a boy with three knives sticking out of his body lay dying. As his last breath escaped the crowd throbbed with anger.

The figure behind the log held up one hand to silence them.

‘This child was willing to place his life in Zei’s hands.’

A sickly sweet smell wafted through the air. Rekala and Kestric sensed the salty, sour smell of sweat, the metallic tang of blood and the reek of fresh carrion. Being the smell of a human’s blood, it repulsed them. Both were standing with their hackles raised, snarling.

‘Now cleansed, arise son, with the blood of Zeidarb in your veins. Arise with everlasting life!’

The dead child got to his feet, pushed back his blond hair with blood still in his hands and shouted in triumph. His voice wasn’t even broken yet. I was pushed back as the crowd surged forward. I couldn’t see what happened next, but I heard men and women hollering in fright. Some ran, but most stood transfixed. They had heard of Zeika immortality, but few had ever seen the rite before.

I heard the child chant loudly, then I caught a glimpse of him holding his elbows up with hands pointing at the ground—the revering stance of Zeikas. The ground seemed to respond, rumbling and throwing up a dozen rocks.

‘Zei’s powers are open to anyone. Come now to the altar. Bring your own idols with you, for Zei is in every god and every god is embodied in Zei,’ the first figure said.

A cheer went up from somewhere and the river of bodies flowed once again. Lira’s hand slid out of mine and her cry was lost in the shuffling. I managed to free myself from the throng by grasping a post near an open tent flap. Inside was a Zeika shrine. Crowds poured in either empty-handed or carrying all kinds of things. Some clutched statues, trinkets or pictures to their chests, dragged in animals or even sick people. One body wrapped in black cloth was carried in on a stretcher.

My stomach turned. The afternoon was bright outside, but the inside of the tent was dark. The shrine glittered with green fire and strange eddies of smoke flew in circles above the altar. A group of young men around my age nearly swept me inside in their eagerness. When I stood up, the crowd had hushed and all eyes were turned upwards.

A flood of terrifying shapes filled the skies. They weren’t tyraks—those I could have copied with, ludicrously. These were the viperjays, come already. I folded over and heaved my guts out until there was nothing but air. My entire body quivered and went cold.

Thunderous flapping deafened me. My muscles worked of their own accord, propelling me through the people, arms flailing. I felt my elbow press against the flesh of others, pushing them aside, shoving. My eyes felt like they would tear apart. My throat burned with the taste of bile.

Flat on my back. The black shapes whizzed by overhead. Black. Black. Black. Teal—an inch of sky. Black. Black. Black. Red.

Sarlice’s red-brown curls framed a stern face as she bent over me.

‘They’re birds, Ambassador Talon, get a hold of yourself.’

Part of me was relieved to see Lira was not around to witness my shame. Sarlice pulled me up with one arm and gripped me by the shoulder to move me on. I gritted my teeth and buried my eyes and thoughts in the materials that made up my shoes; leather boots of fine hide, horse-hair rubber soles, steel buckles—scuff marks across the caramel coloured toes. Caramel…

‘No food,’ I said aloud as my belly lurched and my head whirled. The noise of the flapping viperjays was terrifying. Would they attack me even here—their sharp beaks plunging into my wrists, filling my blood with toxic venom? I sicked up bile and air into Sarlice’s clutching arms. She did not back away or complain.

The Silver Shell was nearly empty by the time we got there. Clusters of people outside made no effort to move out of the way, though some waved their hands in front of their noses, so we barged our way through. Sarlice sat me down at a table and helped herself to a barrel of water behind the bar. Once inside, the noise of the viperjays dulled to a sound like rough wind accompanied by relentless squawking. I rubbed at my eyes, but they would not stop staring. A film of water glazed my sight.

‘Lira, where’s Lira?’

‘I’m sure she’s fine,’ Sarlice replied. ‘We just got separated by the crowd. She’ll come back here to find us.’

‘No, she’s not safe. It’s Zeikas.’ I could hear the hysteria rising in my voice.

‘Just stop, Talon,’ Sarlice said. ‘The Rada are looking for her.’

Sarlice pressed a cup and rag into my hands and left me alone for a few minutes. I took several enormous gulps of air and grabbed my hair with both hands in an attempt to pull myself together. I splashed water over my face and throat, using the damp rag to clean myself.

Sarlice returned with a new shirt on. She also carried oil and cloth to clean her sword and warbow. This unexpected behaviour drew my attention away from my fear. Sarlice’s shortsword was straight dark metal in an ornate Lythian sheath. The black hilt smelt of well-oiled leather. I watched her for some time, content to sit and wait for my heartbeat to slow and the sweat to dry on my skin.

Eventually my pulse returned to normal and I felt steady enough on my feet to get some fresh clothes out of my pack. As Sarlice had done, I stepped inside the storage cupboard Austo had put our gear in to get changed. I took the dirty clothes out to the laundry where a tavern worker was cleaning patrons’ clothes. The boy, who looked about nine, wrinkled his nose and gave me a sullen look.

‘I’ll get you some fresh water when I’m done,’ I said.

‘Room number?’

‘Um… the storage cupboard.’

He grunted. I returned to Sarlice in the common room. She was oiling the arrowheads in her quiver to protect them from rust. I reached past her to get one so I could help.

‘How did you get that scar?’ she asked, looking at my wrist.

‘When I was twelve, a south crag hawk tried to catch one of Verlisa’s kits. Verlisa was my father’s Rada-kin, a treelion. I was sitting right beside them, playing with them, at the time, and I threw my arms over them. The hawk’s talons snagged in my wrist instead of one of the cubs and it cut deep.’

‘It must have been very painful,’ Sarlice commented.

‘It tried to fly away, but only succeeded in dragging its claws deeper. Verlisa slew the hawk and summoned my father on the waves. He carried me to the village medic. It took ten minutes to stop the bleeding. I passed out. They thought I was going to die. Did you know there are certain parts of the body that bleed more than others?’

‘Yes….’

Lira stumbled through the doorway. A rich scent permeated the air, fruity sweet but also smoky and sour. I went to her side, catching one slender wrist.

‘Are you well?’ I queried.

She took a deep breath and murmured, ‘Aye.’

With a weary glance at the crowds outside, Sarlice asked how long we were staying in Sarm.

‘Two days,’ I said.
Enough time for the viperjays to pass
.

‘But we must press on,’ she argued. ‘There’s no space here, and our supplies will only last so long before we must work for more. We have a long way to go, Talon.’

Lira frowned at her.

‘Two days is not that long,’ I replied. ‘We could do with the rest.’

Chapter Thirteen—The Immortal Children

T
he Rada-kin spent the next day hunting and sleeping in an abandoned mill on the outskirts of town. Austo managed to find a replacement Rada to take his shift at the Silver Shell tavern so he could take Sarlice for a tour around the town and surrounding countryside. Lira forsook the offer to join them so she could remain with me in the tavern.

We passed the day playing darts, discussing the customs of Telby and Jesath, eating fruit and bread, drinking ale, and listening to travelling minstrels. It occurred to me that Sarlice and I could have performed even better at Tasset if we had combined our storytelling skills with a bit of music. Thinking back to the way Sarlice had opened up to me then, I realised she’d retreated since Lira had joined us.

It was disappointing that our friendship had been hampered by a newcomer, but I didn’t understand why it had to be that way. Lira was a sweet girl, with looks and wits far beyond her years. Lira was fiercely loyal to me, which was a good feeling—never before had a woman bestowed so much undivided attention upon me.

‘Your turn,’ the pale-skinned woman chimed.

I got to my feet, positioned myself at the line that was cut into the floorboards and sighted down the dart. Doing my best to account for the lack of breeze in the room, the condition of the flights and the weight of the dart, I tried to guess the arc it would travel when I threw it with a precise amount of force. It hit home one square away from the number I’d been aiming for.

‘Miss!’ Lira declared. ‘Are you deliberately letting me win?’

I laughed at her. ‘You’re not winning.’

She pouted and stood to take her turn. While she was preparing to take her turn she kept her eyes on the dart board, but threw me a question. ‘Talon, I was wondering if you could get a message to my Uncle Enreve in Jesath using the waves.’

‘I don’t know,’ I replied. ‘You may be better off asking Sarlice to get Kestric to do it. They’re more experienced than Rekala and I. I’m certain Kestric can reach further, reducing the number of Rada-kin relayers needed.’

‘Nay,’ she replied, tossing the dart and missing by two spaces. ‘I’d rather keep this between you and me.’

‘Very well,’ I said, ‘but I’m curious to know why. I trust Sarlice with my life.’

‘You may trust your life to whomever you wish,’ she said gently, ‘but I do not do so lightly.’

‘Are you concerned someone may be after you? I thought it was wild animals that killed your family.’

She sat beside me, so close I could smell her musky perfume and I suddenly lost interest in the game of darts.

‘Please keep your voice low. It
was
wild animals, Talon, but that doesn’t change the fact that I am now the sole surviving heir to the family fortune. If someone wanted to make a lot of money all they would need to do is take me hostage and my uncle would be forced to pay a ransom. He dotes on me like my own father did.’

She looked down and I noticed a tear glisten in her eye for a moment before it escaped down her perfect cheek. I wiped it away with my scarred hands, feeling rough and indelicate in comparison. She looked up into my eyes and I was once again struck by her innocence and loveliness.

‘I’ll do anything I can to help you,’ I said, ‘but it’s too far for me to reach Jesath. It is hard for me to even reach a Rada I know in Jaria.’

‘What about Rekala?’ she asked. ‘Your own icetiger would be able to keep a secret, surely?’

‘Yes,’ I replied, ‘but I’m still not comfortable keeping anything from Sarlice.’

‘Please, just humour me.’

She must have her reasons
. ‘Fine, I’ll do it,’ I replied. ‘But you know there will have to be relayers between Rekala and the receiver in Jesath, don’t you?’

‘I understand,’ she replied. ‘We’ll just have to hope their humans don’t say anything to anyone else.’

‘I will ensure they know it’s a matter of some delicacy,’ I said.

After waking up Rekala and explaining the situation to her, I waited patiently while she paced around the empty mill trying to focus her wave senses. Reaching a Rada-kin she had never even met was challenging, and she had to hop from presence to presence asking for referrals to the most appropriate relayers. I observed while the jackrabbit she’d contacted in Telby City connected with a llama in Ubu, who in turn reached for a Lythian bull in the Barh desert, followed by an eagle, a horse, a maned wolf and an oryx.

Eventually she said,
‘The Rada-kin wave has reached a rock cat in Jesath by the name of Deom.’

The strain in her mind made me cringe and I had to sit down to avoid getting dizzy. Although it was only the jackrabbit that Rekala was communicating with, she had a vague sense of the others all crowded onto one train of thought like a rope stretched across rapids. It was hard to see those at the far end, but they were there in the mist of the waves. I could see them in

Rekala’s mind but there was no way I could reach out to any one of them myself.
Maybe one day
.

‘Rekala has made a connection,’ I told Lira. ‘The Rada of a rock cat in Jesath is prepared with scroll and ink to write down your message.’

Lira cleared her throat. ‘It is for Enreve of the Demaeda family. Dear Uncle Enreve. Your brother Tirof and his family have perished in the Telbion wilderness, all except me, Lira. I’m in Sarm right now and I’m on my way to Jesath with two Rada companions who have been most kind. I expect them to be repaid in full when I get there. Uncle Enreve, any assistance you can arrange for us on our route would be greatly appreciated. I am in need of coin, clothing, food and a mount to replace mine. We expect to be in Telby within two weeks. Your niece, Lira.’

‘We’ll check in with the wave-callers in each city for his reply,’ I began, ‘and Rekala has told him he can get Deom to contact her via another Rada-kin link.’