Watcher's Web (18 page)

“Alla, get out
of the way,” she said in a low voice.

The Pengalis’
eyes widened, as if they felt the tingle of energy, too. In that
moment, the young boy ran into the courtyard.

All remaining
Pengali scrambled after him. The injured soldier tripped up a
female, causing another Pengali to stumble, but they jumped up, or
were dragged up by their kin, and kept going. The soldier with the
crossbow shouted, moving the weapon to get an aim on the flow of
targets, but the Pengali were already gone. Some into the
courtyard, others into the hallway. Splashes of water made Jessica
realise how they had come in: through the ducts in the back wall.
The soldiers ran into the courtyard, shouting, and the next moment
someone ran into the room, panting.

“What happened
here? How did they get in?” Iztho. His eyes wide, nostrils
flaring.

“I don’t know.
I woke up and they were inside.”

“There were
two guards outside your door. I told you to warn them, didn’t
I?”

“Calm down.
They were only Pengali. Harmless. They were helping me.”

He flung his
arms wide. “Helping you with what? Helping you be noticed by the
council? Helping to make sure you never get out of here?”

“No. I don’t
know. They don’t seem dangerous.”

“
They
don’t seem dangerous.
I’ll tell you something: those guys who killed the other
passengers—they were Pengali, too. They were harmless primitives?
And here I am, risking my reputation to get you back safe, and
you—”

Jessica folded
her arms over her chest. “These Pengali are not dangerous.”

For a moment,
he glared at her, then he harrumphed and stomped across the room.
“All right. Go ahead. Be stubborn about it. We can’t reverse the
damage. By now all the town will know that you’re here. Go back to
sleep. In case you have any more stupid ideas, I’ll stand guard
myself.”

He strode out
of the room. Gravel in the courtyard crunched under his feet.
“That’s the last time I’ll do anything for an obnoxious woman.” The
door slammed and rattled shut behind him.

Chapter
15

N
OW SHE FELT
guilty. He was right about one thing: it was true that she didn’t
know much about this world. She sat back down on the mattress and
glared angrily into the dark, her arms folded over her
chest.

Well then,
maybe he should tell her. Whose fault was it that she didn’t know
much anyway?

She let out a
forceful breath.

Acting like a
spoilt teenager was not the answer either. She hadn’t exactly been
friendly to him, and maybe he hadn’t been sure how much he could
tell her. Perhaps he suspected she might not be what she seemed to
be either. And maybe he had a whole lot more to teach her than the
Pengali could. She could at least speak to him and find out what he
was willing to share.

When he
returned in the morning, she would apologise to him, and from then
on, she would not let his arrogance rile her so much.

But when he
swept into the room in the morning, apologies were long
forgotten.

“Time to get
up.” The heels of his boots sounded like gunshots on the stone
floor.

Jessica
groaned, rolling on her back and staring into the semidarkness. All
her muscles ached and felt stiff from the hard mattress. “Is it
light outside?”

He flipped on
the light, which shone mercilessly in her face.

“It is light
now.”

He now looked
even less like a faded hippie. His hair rippled over his shoulders
like mercury. He wore, of all things, a thick fur cloak—in this
heat! The medallion he had shown her yesterday was now prominently
displayed on his chest. He also wore earrings, golden loops through
his earlobes. He looked in his element, groomed, comfortable.

“Did you sleep
well?”

“Well enough.”
But even as she said this, a wave of fatigue engulfed her.

He raised his
eyebrows. “You look tired.”

Look tired?
She was tired. Damn Pengali, damn different days, damn everything.
Her whole body was out of whack, but she was not going to crumple
and let him play the knight in shining bloody armour. “I’m all
right.”

“I’ve brought
some breakfast and you better eat it quickly. We have a lot to do
today.”

“Doing
what?”

She stumbled
to her feet and followed him into the living room, where a bowl
stood on the table. Some sort of translucent noodles.

He explained
while she ate.

“I had some
excellent results yesterday. I used some of my contacts in town,
and I’m fairly confident I’ll be able to get you out.”

“You mean—take
me home?”

“It will be
the first step, but we’re not there yet.”

Jessica took a
bite. Noodles dangled down her chin. “So what comes first?”

“I have to
apply for a permit for you to leave town, and that isn’t as easy as
it sounds, because you have no documents and the entire town is
looking for you. So obviously you will have to travel in some sort
of disguise, and I think I’ve found a solution. But first you need
to be made presentable, and you need to learn to behave in a way
fitting to the personality your documentation will say you
are.”

Geez, he was
speaking in legalese. “And that is?”

“As my
wife.”

Fucking
what?

“Traders’
wives travel with their husbands, often under the same licence, and
unless they plan to travel separately, they don’t need their own
documentation. However, Traders’ wives are refined women. Polite,
educated, softly spoken, cultured.”

Everything you are convinced I’m not. Fuck you. You’re
doing this on purpose.

He turned on
her, pointing his finger at her chest.

“Don’t get any
ideas. I don’t like it either. It’s my reputation on the line.
Everyone in the Trader Guild knows the Andrahar heir does not have
a woman. I don’t intend to change that, so you keep quiet, and we
might get out of here without too much trouble—”

“You know
what? I don’t like your threats, and I don’t like being
intimidated.”

“Do you want
to go home or not?”

“I do, but I
don’t want to sell my fucking soul to do it.”

His
nostrils flared. “Lady, don’t you
dare
suggest that I will
ever
lay a
finger on a woman who is not willing.”

She stared at
him. Believed every word he said.

“If you are a
lady, don’t use that sort of language either.”

“So it’s OK
for you, but not for me?”

He stared at
her, blew out forcefully through his nostrils. “You are truly like
no woman I’ve ever met.”

“Then you’ve
only ever met dishrags, not real women.”

“
I
didn’t
mean
that as compliment.”

“I didn’t
expect it to be. Do whatever you like. Just don’t expect me to
follow mindlessly.”

Again, a wordless
stare. Longer this time. Something she couldn’t quite put her
finger on softened in his stance.

He sighed.
“Meanwhile . . .” He dug in a basket on the floor.
The cloak fell aside and strapped to his arm was, clearly visible,
a metal contraption that looked too much like a gun to be anything
else.

The
only weapon that’s legal to own.
Yeah—right. What was that, then? A water
pistol?

He put a
bundle of fabric on the table. Red, thin woven cotton. “I borrowed
this dress.”

Jessica picked
it up. Folds of fabric tumbled onto her lap, releasing a musty
smell. It was a simple dress made of thin material, straight,
long-sleeved, the material crumpled beyond redemption.

“Put it
on.”

She gestured
at the sarong. “Can’t I just wear this?”

“No. That’s
what I’m trying to get through to you. You have to dress
appropriately. Covered shoulders, no bare knees. Dress code is very
important.”

Jessica
glared. But there was nothing for it; she didn’t have the energy to
fight over it. She picked up the dress and went to the bedroom. In
the darkness she slipped off the sarong, folded it, and pulled the
dress over her head. It reached only to just below her knees and
the hem hung much lower at the back than at the front. Pulling the
front made the sleeves twist around which caused the seams to cut
into the soft skin under her arms.

She ran a hand
through her hair, fingers catching in knots. The action freed a
whiff of the gooey soap Ikay had used.

Her mind
filled with doubt. The way Iztho was talking, she would soon be out
of here and would never find out who these people were, where they
had come from and where they had gone.

When she
entered the living room, Iztho pulled a face. “I’m sorry. That
really
is
dreadful.”

“I’m glad you
agree with me for once.”

He met her
eyes in a wordless stare. Was it pity she saw there? Well, she
didn’t want his pity.

“Yes, we will
have to do something about that as soon as we can. Here, put these
on as well.” He passed her a pair of sandals.

Jessica
dropped the sandals on the floor and wriggled her feet into them.
The straps cut across the tops of her toes, but they fitted better
than the dress; they were probably a man’s.

Then they were
ready to go. She followed him into the courtyard and out the door
into the alley. They started off down the hill. The suffocating
heat of the previous night had dissipated and the alley was bathed
in cool, blue-tinged shade. Sunlight only touched the very top of
the wall to their left, the light still yellow and feeble, the
shadows ringed with a distinct double edge.

Three soldiers
joined them, one in front, two behind.

It seemed that
Iztho really had organised their safe passage, if even she’d had
doubts about him. Jessica remembered that she had intended to
apologise for last night, although she didn’t really want to broach
the subject of the Pengali. It would only lead to more
arguments.

Jessica asked,
“How far are we going?”

“To a
guesthouse on the other side of town. It’s a fair walk.”

“Doesn’t this
town have gliders or shuttles or trains, or boats?” She looked down
the alley, where she could see nothing except walls interrupted at
regular intervals by timber doors. When she arrived last night, she
had seen no form of transport other than boats. No engines, no
motorised equipment, no technology other than the rechargeable
pearls used as light source.

“No. No trains
or boats.”

“What sort of
place is this?”

“It’s Barresh.
It’s poor, it’s a backwater and it’s total anarchy. You don’t think
this stuff-up with the Exchange could have happened anywhere
else?”

“Anywhere
else? How many other places are there? Other . . .
planets?”

“Colonies.
There are many.”

“How
many?”

Giant space
ports with large ships going in and out. Modern equipment, blinking
lights. Like in that kitchen she had seen in Daya’s mind. He was
now in another place where it was cold. She eyed Iztho’s cloak.
Obviously intended for a cold climate.

He met her
eyes, a wary expression on his face. “The less you know, the easier
your return will be.”

“You mean you
can’t tell me, or you’re not allowed?”

“You don’t
give up, do you?”

“No.” Now she
was getting angry again. Never mind the bloody apology. The man was
an arrogant prick. “You told me I’m here because someone did
something wrong. Don’t you think that means I’m entitled to know a
bit more about what happened?”

Another sharp
glance. He said nothing. It seemed the conversation was over.

His eyes
scanned rooftops and alleys, his hand under his cloak, where his
weapon was hidden. The sunlight glinted off the crossbow carried by
the soldier in front. The two soldiers behind them had caught
up.

At the bottom
of the hill, the small market lay deserted at this early hour. Only
a giant lizard sat under the tree, scratching the dirt where the
fishmonger had displayed his wares yesterday. It scuttled up the
tree trunk at their approaching footsteps.

The soldier in
front led them around a corner to the left, away from the water.
Here, they entered a wide, tree-lined street bordered by hills
where every bit of ground had been built on. In addition to that,
the hills seemed to be hollow. Tunnels led off the street at
regular intervals and inside Jessica could see the lights of
markets, eating houses and shops.

Pengali ambled
in and out of these entrances. No one was in a hurry. Older males
gathered in groups, their jaws working as they chewed some green
substance; mothers carried children and youngsters laughed. They
wore rags and walked bare-footed, showing none of their skin
patterns.

Many of them
watched the small procession of non-Pengali from the corners of
their eyes. At Jessica’s passing, hands moved in unspoken signals,
first close, then on a balcony, then further down the street. As if
through an inaudible radio system, the news spread through the city
faster than they could walk.

There was no
getting away from their stares.

On and on they
walked. The soldier in front, Jessica next to Iztho in wordless
brooding, and the other two soldiers behind. Most of the people on
the street were Pengali, but some were taller, and looked more like
short and stocky Earth people, except for their strangely round
faces with closely-spaced eyes and large nose. Every now and then
they would pass a Pengali male or female who was well-groomed and
dressed in turquoise. Most of these lugged bags filled with various
items of produce, bulbs, bundles of leaves and fruit. They didn’t
stop to speak to anyone except vendors and then only briefly. But
they signalled just as much as the others.