The Broken World Book One - Children of Another God (22 page)

Talsy gasped
and shied as a twig scratched her face like a clawed hand reaching
from the darkness. She wiped a trickle of blood off her cheek, the
scratch burning as she stumbled after the Mujar. A root caught her
ankle, and she fell with a yell of surprise, her hand yanked from
Chanter's grip. He stopped and turned, frowning. Talsy tried to
rise, but roots whipped up to snake around her legs, pin her to the
ground and push knobs into her flesh.

"Chanter!"

Talsy panicked
as the roots tightened, while the Mujar gazed into the forest.

“
Chanter!” Terror washed through her as the roots coiled up her
legs, reaching her hips.

He held up a
hand. "Hush."

Talsy bit her
lip, quelling the urge to scream at him to do something. The Mujar
remained just out of reach, and stared into the darkness without
expression.

The air filled
with the faint sound of beating wings, accompanied by a breeze. The
trees around them moved with slow precision, the branches twisted
as if by invisible hands. The roots stopped their progress up her
hips and held her in a painful clasp. The beating of wings softened
to a whisper of feathers, and a warm draught stirred the stale,
cold air. The twisting trees' slow rearrangement formed two huge,
empty pits amongst the tangled wood. The brooding presence grew
strong, and waves of hatred chilled her blood.

The Mujar
raised a hand and beckoned to the darkness, which swelled from its
pits, bringing with it the clean smell of fresh cut timber. Chanter
bent and touched one palm to the ground, thrusting his other hand
into the tangible dark presence. It swallowed his hand to the
wrist, and a soft shiver went through the forest. A sigh wafted
like wind in the branches, accompanied by a faint creaking of wood.
Leaves rustled as a shiver of icy Dolana quivered the air.

Chanter paused,
then lifted his other hand and reached into the darkness, which
engulfed his arms to the elbows. He withdrew one arm and raised it,
and a tiny shred of mist drifted from his fingers, followed by a
soft patter of rain on the leaves above. Freeing himself, he
lowered his hands. A glimmer of fire brightened the air in a tiny
cluster of flames that burnt before him for a moment.

Talsy stared at
him, entranced. He had invoked the Powers so gently that even a
timid deer would not have been alarmed. Now he weaved them together
with deft twisting motions, fire and water, air and earth. A
shimmering rainbow cord appeared in his hands, aglow yet wet,
sighing with wind yet glittering with grit. He reached into the
darkness with it, groped, and pulled back.

The cord twined
around a being that made Talsy gasp with wonder, drawing it from
the shadows. If it had a form she could not divine it. Its outline
wavered constantly, yet it had eyes of pearly sorrow and tears that
glittered amongst its soft folds of emerald green and deep brown. A
mouth moaned with the soft sadness of growing trees, and hands
gripped Chanter's with gentle loam fingers and tender green shoots.
Great wings of anguish trailed it, formed into shining petals of a
million colours that dragged at the air.

The Mujar drew
it forward with his shining elemental cord, and a great sigh went
through the trees. The twined branches parted, allowing light to
pour down in dapples of gold, and a breeze stirred the leaves. The
forest came alive as it filled with warmth and sunlight, and the
shadows gave way to rich brown bark and the verdure of leaves.
Chanter held the being trapped with his cord, its sorrow and
anguish running from it like a silver stream of emotion.

"Kuran," said
Chanter. "Your hatred is killing you and your trees. Let it
go."

The forest
replied in a whisper of sound so faint Talsy could hardly hear the
words it bore.

"Mujar, ever
are you life, yet death stalks the land, and the city of men will
fall."

"The fate of
men is their own, but you will die too without the joy to
live."

"When the city
of men falls, the forest will rejoice."

Chanter nodded.
"That is the way of Kuran, but when Marrana comes to gather, be not
amongst the fallen."

"Release me,"
the Kuran breathed. "I mean you no harm, Mujar."

"No harm to me
and mine, then shall I release you."

"No harm," the
forest whispered. "Lay claim and it is yours, walker of life,
though sorrows it shall bring you."

"Sorrows shall
dog me ever; this is no concern of yours."

"Take it then!"
The words spat from a cracking tree that split apart to reveal
golden wood, its leaves falling in a green cloud. With a tearing
groan, the tree fell amid splintering branches. The Kuran writhed
in Chanter's grasp, and he opened his hands, releasing the rainbow
cord that sundered into sparkles of flame, drops of water, a gust
of air and a shower of dust. The Kuran vanished, taking with it the
sun, the soft warm air and greenness. The dark silence clamped down
once more, returning the forest to its former gloom.

Chanter turned
and helped Talsy to her feet, the roots falling away. She rubbed
her aching legs and shivered. The Mujar tugged her forward, and she
stumbled over the black, twisted ground behind him. He walked
faster now, dragging her along. Wet, hanging moss slapped her and
cobwebs festooned her face in a silver veil. She tried to follow
Chanter's steps, placing her feet where his had been, finding a
sure path from root to root, unhindered by the twisted wood. The
forest parted for him, but the trees rattled and sighed, hating
her. Leaves lashed her, yet did not harm her. The forest Kuran, now
thoroughly aroused, made its presence felt as it chased her from
its depths, speeding her steps with its animosity.

Talsy noticed
that no saplings grew in this forest, and many of the old, twisted
trees were long dead, grey and bleached. The stench of decay, mixed
with mould and musty wood, hung in the still air. Chanter hurried
on, and she panted as she tried to keep up, the atmosphere tainting
her tongue with dust. A branch snapped off behind her, crashed to
the ground and shattered into slivers of dead grey wood. She ran
faster, her lungs burning with effort.

A glimmer of
light showed through the trees ahead, and they burst into warm
sunlight. Talsy stumbled and collapsed, unable to take another
step. Sitting on the warm green grass, she looked back at the dark
forest as it sighed a rank breeze. Chanter stood beside her,
staring at the wood with narrowed eyes. Deep within the forest, a
tree fell with a tearing crash, and branches rattled as if a strong
wind stirred them.

"What was that
all about?" she gasped.

"The Kuran
hates Truemen. She wanted to kill you."

"Why?"

The Mujar
glanced around. "Because of this." He made a sweeping gesture.

Talsy turned to
look at a sloping field of stumps. Thousands of trees had once
grown here. Their grey stumps extended far down the hillside to the
edge of the cultivated land that surrounded a vast stone city
sprawled along the coast. Miles of green fields dotted with stumps
stretched away in either direction, the dark forest bordering them
on one side and a golden beach on the other. Further up the coast,
waves frothed against tall white cliffs and gulls rode the sea
breeze, too far away for their cries to be heard. Grazing beasts
cropped the grass in vast herds, moving amongst the stumps and an
occasional bleached log.

"The Kuran once
had a vast forest," Chanter explained. "It stretched all along the
coast, from the mountains to the sea. Then Truemen came and cut it
down to build ships and houses. They burnt the wood in their fires
and furnaces and cleared the land for their beasts. Hatred consumes
her now, and she's killing her trees."

"But she has
power. Why can't she fight back?"

"She has little
power. All she commands are the trees. The deeper into the forest
you go, the more powerful she is, but on the edges she can do
little but rattle branches."

"So as long as
Truemen cut down the trees on the edge of the forest, she can't
harm them."

"No. I doubt
any Trueman ventures deep into that wood."

She rubbed her
aching legs, then rose and sat on a stump. Chanter gazed across the
land.

"Why did you
say she might die? Surely she's immortal if she's an elemental or a
wood spirit?" Talsy asked.

Chanter shook
his head. "She is neither. A Kuran is part of the wood, like a
soul. They exist only in old forests, and are many thousands of
years old. If the forest dies, she will die with it. Her hatred has
driven away the birds that spread the seeds and the bees that
pollinate the flowers. No young trees grow, and the old ones will
die. Her life span has no limit, but she can be killed."

Talsy
considered this, frowning. "What did she mean, 'death stalks the
land, and the city of men shall fall'?"

"She was
speaking of the Hashon Jahar."

"Was it a
prophecy?"

He shrugged.
"Sort of. Come, let's find somewhere to camp."

Picking up the
bag, he set off down the sloping field, angling away from the
distant city. Talsy followed, studying the sprawling coastal
metropolis. It seemed that the forest's wood had mostly been used
to build ships, for the city was made almost entirely from stone.
Tall buildings, the likes of which she had never seen before, rose
above the thick wall that pinned the city to the sea. Square
towers, their walls spotted with many narrow windows, stood proud
but ugly, topped by grey slate roofs. Some buildings owned arched
doorways, carved balconies and balustrades of white rock. One stood
out from the rest by virtue of a domed roof that appeared to be
made of pale green crystal. Certainly this was a mightier city than
Horran, prosperous and well kept. Talsy longed to explore it, but
respected Chanter's aversion to it. She would rather stay close to
him than go into the city, and she trotted to catch up with
him.

"Is that
Rashkar?"

He glanced back
at her. "No, that's Jishan. Rashkar is on the far side of the
Narrow Sea."

"Where's
that?"

"Right in front
of you." He gestured to the blue expanse before them. "On a clear
day you can see the far side."

Talsy squinted
across the sparkling water, but could make out nothing but haze in
the distance. "How will we get across?"

The Mujar
entered a copse of tall trees and dumped the bag. A spring bubbled
from lichen-covered rocks and trickled away along its mossy bed, a
line of silver amid the green. Chanter selected a log and sat,
looking up at her with a smile.

"I'll swim or
fly. You have a choice."

She knelt to
unpack the bag. "What's that?"

"Either you can
buy passage on a ship, or purchase a boat and I'll tow you
across."

Talsy
considered these options while she started a fire and set a pot of
water on it. Now that she owned a tinderbox, she no longer needed
Chanter to light fires. She placed the remains of an antelope in
the pot and added vegetables, then sat back. Either choice meant
going into the city, which she did not like.

"Are those the
only two choices?"

He shook his
head. "I could carry you on my back, but you'd get wet. It wouldn't
be pleasant. Or I could build a raft, but that would also be
uncomfortable and slow."

Talsy pondered.
A ship would be by far the most comfortable method, but it would
also mean she would be parted from Chanter for the voyage. She was
not sure that she had enough money to buy a boat, even a small one,
and a raft would take time to construct.

"How long will
it take to swim across?"

His brows rose.
"Odd choice. Quite a long time. A day and a night, at least."

"That's too
long for me. I'll go into the city tomorrow and see if I have
enough money to buy a boat, if not, I'll go on a ship."

"Of course,
there are other choices, but I don't want to draw attention to
myself. I still have to free this boy in Rashkar. It will be easier
if no one knows I'm there."

Talsy stirred
the stew, thinking about a Mujar's powers. If he could part a
mountain, he could certainly part the sea, or make a bridge of ice
for her to walk over. The thought made her shiver, and she glanced
at him. With a friend like him, nothing was impossible, but was he
her friend? Was it only clan bond that kept him with her, and how
strong was that? If the effort of looking after her became too
great, would he abandon her without a qualm? What did he feel for
her? Was a Mujar capable of feelings? He treated her with kindness
and respect, but had not touched her except to give her warmth or
comfort. He had protected her from the Kuran, but had yet to
announce that her wish was fulfilled.

Talsy still
pondered this when she crawled into the tent to sleep, stretching
out on the thin bedroll. Chanter joined her as he always did, to
lie beside her and share his warmth before he disappeared into the
night for his wild wanderings.

Chapter Ten

The following
morning, she walked to the city, and Chanter accompanied her to the
outskirts. When he decided that it was too dangerous to go closer,
he leapt into the air and transformed into a gull with a rush of
Ashmar. Talsy walked on, knowing that he kept watch high above. By
the time she trudged through the city gates, the fascination of the
great metropolis held her in its spell. The massive stone walls
loomed over her, daunting in their solid, meticulous construction
from chiselled stones that fitted together with almost seamless
precision.

At the gates,
two bored guardsmen leant on their spears and watched her pass.
Within the walls, tall buildings seemed to crowd over the paved
streets. Statues watched her pass with blank stone stares and
well-dressed citizens stepped aside with grave courtesy. The clean,
wide streets crossed each other at exact angles and measured
distances apart. Carts and drays rattled along them, and fancy rigs
drawn by high-stepping horses carried wealthy ladies in printed
gowns. Shopkeepers displayed their wares under gay awnings and
greeted passers-by with polite smiles. It all seemed ordered and
peaceful to Talsy, civilisation at its height.